Da See | foi GRY SNR aoe at Py he ual LSE LA ese Braet ead nity ces r fy ras ee oa be « o a Pattee x aka Piece BU eee BSAA ARTA DARIUS et niet OSD sigh Seana eet eet ) : Soa pe pk aol pepe ned ee “en ix it PORES FER CEL RR err Ph os aS : Hy Soar abe Cath aa aN SAR RN ea se Ahn eeey nn As Paoreennyeie noma Ra eeae 5 LBA ert Aen AP te are apes car ENERGIE ER Aa gt anger int SRchaeR AAAS eae jae aN rete ee Siren aces Ne a SA eA aT SE Ae sity Ai Anns AR ARIAS eae Tapeh oe Os ns coer x i hha ett nee. 3 9 a Pn PAP IAAP Pry 1 ARR A ee A ADA | es eae perio hacia ne io Zi ents A ry SH EG KL oeeD yadet eh Pate eh Rela eets MAORI ES ne eg Na ea et seen Pepe Nwtet, LP LAR ARA RD Ramet pie fared rant SA Melos Lad tl ak “1 oe Meapana un kon aoed Bop ad cee} NP Soon reno PD Ap phen PR RRN VA hadhoas Ppl oe ea hake at pe tere paetrr yy he pny ty or Lent moira gn eT rN RID Mon man iat ae tes es S oo eeercor anna ps ort rier Ph need etait ton! a os ee rem om wrraaan rEg A ph adad entered iereeiee hs delenit eel aie er 2 ner ee pero sere Seats lpgamnmneacierey a nee ltnana gia mr A Aa rile sent here une aeens srw yearend ere tae are reas . Aaee rl PACAP Aer er ER AP AALS arnt m3 ota Set - ee berauad : - os Cerne Pains eras Cio st a ‘ an ee ears $e Seep OTN OUND AORnG Ry Ree Ne es amie lore shee Se Ad ae CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY STEWART H. BURNHAM FUND T TO LIFE OF NAPOLECDS BONAPARTE AT TWENTY-TWO YEARS OF AGE After a portrait by Greuze, 4 LIFE of NAPOLEON BONAPARTE ITH a Sketch of JOSE- PHINE, Empress of the French. Illustrated from the collection of NAPOLEON En- gravings made by the tate Hon. G. G. Hubbard, and now owned by the Congressional Library, Washington, D. G., supplemented by Pictures from the best French Collections a 1% BY IDA M. TARBELL New Work THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1918 All ‘rights reserved Lo 74 775% ‘OPYRIGHT, 1894, BY 4. S. McCLURE, LIMITED COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY Ss. S. McCLURE, LIMITED COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY YHE S. S. MCCLURE Co, COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. abbed ee [ pre el Lag CONTENTS THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON: CHAPTER pace I. YourH anp Earty Svurrounpincs.—Scuoot Days AT BRIENNE II. In Paris.—LieuTeNANT oF ARTILLERY.—LITERARY WorK.— THe REVOLUTION . 7 s III. RoBespierre.—OvutT oF Work.—First Success , 5 IV. CourtsHip AnD MarriAGE.—DEVoTION TO JOSEPHINE . V. Irattian CAMPAIGN.—RULES oF WaR ‘ s VI. RETURN To PARIS.—EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN.—THE 18TH Bru- MAIRE f ‘ , 5 6 VII. StatesMAN AND LAWGIVER—THE FINANCES.—THE IN- DUSTRIES.—T HE Pusiic Works . - VIII. ReturN oF THE EMIGRES—THE CONCORDAT.—LEGION OF Honor.—Cope NAPOLEON ‘ 5 Pe F % IX. OpposiTiIoN TO THE CENTRALIZATION OF THE GOVERN- MENT.—PROSPERITY OF FRANCE d é ‘ X. PREPARATIONS FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND.—FLOTILLA AT Bou- LOGNE.—SALE oF LOUISIANA . ‘ 4 : ; XI. Emperor OF THE FRENCH PEoPLE.—KING or ITALY XII. CAMPAIGNS OF 1805, 1806. 1807.—PEAcE oF TILSIT . 3 XIII. Extension or NApoLeon’s EMpire.—FAMILy AFFAIRS ei XIV. Bertin DecrEE.—PENINSULAR War.—THE BONAPARTES ON THE SPANISH THRONE . : : , 5 : : XV. DISASTERS IN Spatn.—ErFurt MEETING—NAPOLEON AT Maprip 2 ‘ ‘ 5 , 3 17 27 43 53 61 89 105 119 - 133 143 . 181 163 179 19! 199 8 CONTENTS CHAPTER PA XVI. TALLEyRAND’S TREACHERY.—CAMPAIGN OF 1809 3 : XVII. Divorce oF JoSEPHINE.—MARRIAGE WITH Marie LOUISE.— BirTH OF THE Kinc or RoME XVIII. Trouste with THE Pore.—THeE ConscripTioN.—THE TIL- sir AGREEMENT BROKEN : j XIX. Russtan CaAmpaicn.—Burninc or Moscow.—A New ARMY . 5 , x ¥ , c XX. CAMPAIGN OF 1813.—CAMPAIGN OF 1814.—ABDICATION . : XXI. Erpa.—THE Hunprep Days.—THE SEcoND ABDICATION . XXII. SurrenDER To ENcGLISH.—StT. HELENA.—DEATH 3 ‘ XXIII. THe Seconp FUNERAL . - . : - . SKETCH OF JOSEPHINE—EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH: I. Famiry.—Earty SuRRoUNDINGS.—ALEXANDER DE BEAUHAR- NAIS.—MARRIAGE.—SEPARATION FROM HUSBAND 7 ‘ II. JosEPHINE IN THE REVOLUTION.—IMPRISONED AT LES CARMES.—STRUGGLE FOR ExXISTENCE.—MARRIAGE WITH BonAPARTE : ‘ ‘ ; 5 ‘ III. Bonaparte Gors To ITALy.—JosEPHINE AT MILAN 1706- 1797.—TRIUMPHAL TouR IN ITALY.—BONAPARTE LEAVES For Ecyptr 5 e : - ‘ IV. Bonaparte 1s Mave First CoNSUL.—JOSEPHINE’s TACT IN’ . 3) Pusiic Lire.—Her PersonaAL CHARM.—MAaLMAISON V. THE QUESTION oF SUCCESSION.—MARRIAGE oF HorTENSE.— JOSEPHINE EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH PEOPLE—TuHE Coro- NATION . s : é . ; : ; VI. Etiquette REGULATING JoSEPHINE’S LIFE.—RoyaL Jour- NEYS.— EXTRAVAGANCE IN DRESS : : VII. JoserHine not ALLOWED To Go To PoLAND.—Frar oF Dr- VORCE.—THE RECONCILIATION OF 1807-1808.—TuHr Cam- PAIGN OF 1809 AND ITS EFrrect oN NAPOLEON 2 2 2 3¢ CONTENTS 9 CHAPTER PAGE VIII. Naroteon RETURNS TO FRANCE.—JOSEPHINE’S UNHAPPI- NESS.—NAPOLEON’s VIEW oF A Divorce.—THE Way IN WHICH THE Divorce was EFFECTED . ‘ r - 413 IX. Arrer THE Divorce.—NAVARRE.—JOSEPHINE’S SUSPICIONS OF THE EMPEROR.—HER GRADUAL RETURN TO HAPPINESS 423 X. EFFECT ON JOSEPHINE oF DISASTERS IN RuSSIA.—ANXIETY During CAMPAIGN oF 1813.—FLIGHT FROM Paris.— DEATH IN I814 2 ‘ - : : - 440 HanpwriTInc oF NAPOLEON AT DIFFERENT PERIODS. + 453 TABLE OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY : , 5 - 464 CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE oF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE . - 469 INDEX 3 : ° * ‘s . ‘ - 477 PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION THE chief source of illustration for this volume, as in the case of the Napoleon papers in McCiure’s MaGazZzINE, is the great collection of engravings of Mr. Gardiner G. Hub- bard, which has been generously placed at the service of the publishers. In order to make the illustration still more comprehensive, a representative of McCLure’s MaGAZzINE and an authorized agent of Mr. Hubbard visited Paris, to seek there whatever it might be desirable to have in the way of additional pictures which were not within the scope of Mr. Hubbard’s splendid collection. They secured the assistance of M. Armand Dayot, Inspecteur des Beaux-Arts, who pos- sessed rare qualifications for the task. His official position he owed to his familiarity with the great art collections, both public and private, of France, and his official duties made: him especially familiar with the great paintings re- lating to French history. Besides, he was a specialist in Napoleonic iconography. On account of his qualifications and special knowledge, he had been selected by the great house of Hachette et Cie, to edit their book on Napoléon raconté par l’Image, which was the first attempt to bring together in one volume the most important pictures relating to the military, political, and private life of Napoleon. M. Dayot had just completed this task, and was fresh from his studies of Napoleonic pictures, when his aid was secured by the publishers of McCiure’s MaGazing, in supplementing the Hubbard collection. The work was prosecuted with the one aim of omitting no important picture. When great paintings indispensable II 12 PREFACE to a complete pictorial life of Napoleon were found, which had never been either etched or engraved, photographs were obtained, many of these photographs being made especially for our use. A generous selection of pictures was made from the works of Raffet and Charlet. M. Dayot was able also to add a number of pictures—not less than a score—of unique value, through his personal relations with the owners of the great private Napoleonic collections. Thus were obtained hitherto unpublished pictures, of the highest value, from the collections of Monseigneur Duc d’Aumale; of H. I. H., Prince Victor Napoleon; of Prince Roland; of Baron Lar- rey, the son of the chief surgeon of the army of Napoleon; of the Duke of Bassano, son of the minister and confidant of the emperor; of Monsieur Edmond Taigny, the friend and biographer of Isabey; of Monsieur Albert Christophle, Governor-General of the Crédit-Foncier of France; of Mon- sieur Paul le Roux, who has perhaps the richest of the Na- poleonic collections; and of Monsieur le Marquis de Gir- ardin, son-in-law of the Duc de Gaéte, the faithful Minister of Finance of Napoleon I. It will be easily understood that no doubt can be raised as to the authenticity of documents borrowed from such sources. , The following letter explains fully the plan on which Mr. Hubbard’s collection is arranged, and shows as well its ad- mirable completeness. It gives, too, a classification of the pictures into periods, which will be useful to the reader. S. S. McCuurz, Esq. WUSSTINCRON, Clstoben, 1854, Dear Sir:—It is about fourteen years since I became interested in engravings, and I have since that time made a considerable collection, including many portraits, generally painted and engraved during the life of the personage. I have from two hundred to three hundrd prints relating to Napoleon, his family, and his generals. The earliest of these is a portrait of Napoleon painted in 1791, when he was twenty- two years old; the next in date was engraved in 1796. There are many PREFACE 13 in each subsequent year, and four prints of drawings made immediately after his death. There are few men whose characters at different periods of life are so distinctly marked as Napoleon’s, as will appear by an examination of these prints. There are four of these periods: First Period, 1796- 1797, Napoleon the General; Second Period, 1801-1804, Napoleon the Statesman and Lawgiver; Third Period, 1804-1812, Napoleon the Em- peror; Fourth Period, the Decline and Fall of Napoleon, including Waterloo and St. Helena. Most of these prints are contemporaneous with the periods described. The portraits include copies of the por- traits painted by the greatest painters and engraved by the best en- gravers of that age. There are four engravings of the paintings by Meissonier—“ 1807,” “ Napoleon,” ‘Napoleon Reconnoitering,’ and 1814.” ; First Periop, 1796-1797, Napoleon the General.—In these the Italian spelling of the name, ‘“‘ Buonaparte,” is generally adopted. At this period there were many French and other artists in Italy, and it would seem as if all were desirous of painting the young general. A French writer in a late number of the ‘“ Gazette des Beaux-Arts’ is uncertain whether Gros, Appiani, or Cossia was the first to obtain a sitting from General Bonaparte. It does not matter to your readers, as portraits by each of these artists are included in this collection. There must have been other portraits or busts of Bonaparte executed before 1796, besides the one by Greuze given in this collection. These may be found, but there are no others in my collection. Of the por- traits of Napoleon belonging to this period eight were engraved before 1798, one in 1800. All have the long hair falling below the ears over the forehead and shoulders; while all portraits subsequent to Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt have short hair. The length of the hair affords an indication of the date of the portrait. SEconD Pertop, 1801-1804, Napoleon the Statesman and Lawgiver.— During this period many English artists visited Paris, and painted or engraved portraits of Napoleon. In these the Italian spelling “ Buona- parte’? is adopted, while in the French engravings of this period he is called “Bonaparte” or “General Bonaparte.” Especially noteworthy among them is “The Review at the Tuileries,’ regarded by Masson as the best likeness of Napoleon “when thirty years old and in his best estate.” The portrait painted by Gérard in 1803, and engraved by Richomme, is by others considered the best of this period. There is already a marked change from the long and thin face in earlier por- traits to the round and full face of this period. In some of these prints the Code Napoléon is introduced as an accessory. Tuirp Pertop, 1804-1812, Napoleon the Emperor—He is now styled “ Napoléon,” “ Napoléon le Grand.” or “ L’Empereur.” His chief painters in this period are Léfevre, Gérard, Isabey, Lupton, and David 14 PREFACE (with Raphael-Morghen, Longhi, Desnoyers, engravers)—artists of greater merit than those of the earlier periods. The full-length por- trait by David has been copied oftener and is better known than any other. It has been said that we cannot in the portraits of this period, exe- cuted by Gérard, Isabey, and David, find a true likeness of Napoleon. His ministers thought ‘it was necessary that the sovereign should have a serene expression, with a beauty almost more than human, like the deified Czsars or the gods of whom they were the image.” ‘“‘ Advise the painters,” Napoleon wrote to Duroc, September 15, 1807, “ to make the countenance more gracious (plutét gracieuses).” Again, “ Advise the painters to seek less a perfect resemblance than to give the beau ideal in preserving certain features and in making the likeness more agreeable (plutét agréable).” Fourtu Pertop, 1812-1815, Decline and Fall of Napoleon—We have probably in the front and side face made by Girodet, and published in England, a true likeness of Napoleon. It was drawn by Girodet in the Chapel of the Tuileries, March 8, 1812, while Napoleon was attend- ing mass. It is believed to be a more truthful likeness than that by David, made the sare year; the change in his appearance to greater fulness than in the portraits of 1801-1804 is here more plainly marked. He has now become corpulent, and his face is round and full. Two portraits taken in 1815 show it even more clearly. One of these was taken immediately before the battle of Waterloo, and the other, by J. Eastlake, immediately after. Mr. Eastlake, then an art student, was staying at Plymouth when the “ Bellerophon” put in. He watched Napoleon for several days, taking sketches from which he afterwards made a full length portrait. The collection concludes with three notable prints: the first of the mask made by Dr. Antommarchi the day of his death, and engraved by Calamatta in 1834; another of a drawing ‘“‘ made immediately after death by Captain Ibbetson, R. N.;” and the third of a drawing by Cap- tain Crockatt, made fourteen hours after the death of Napoleon, and published in London July 18, 1821. These show in a remarkable man- ner the head of this wonderful man. The larger part of these prints was purchased through Messrs. Wun- derlich & Co., and Messrs. Keppel of New York, some at auctions in Berlin, London, Amsterdam, and Stuttgart; very few in Paris. GARDINER G. HuBBaRD. ’ The historical and critical notes which accompany the illustrations in this volume have been furnished by Mr. Hub- bard as a rule, though those signed A. D. come from the pen of M. Armand Dayot. PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION The Life of Napoleon in this volume first appeared as a serial in Volumes III and IV of McClure’s Magazine. In 1895 on its completion in serial form it was published in book form, illustrated by a series of portraits from the Hub- bard collection which had been used in the magazine and by numerous other pictures drawn from the principal French Napoleon collections. The illustrations in the present edi- tion have been selected from those used in the first. The variety and extent of these illustrations are explained in the Preface to the First Edition here reproduced. The Life of Napoleoa is supplemented in the present work by a sketch of Josephine. The absence of any Life of Josephine in Eng- lish drawn from recent historical investigations is the rea- son for presenting this sketch. Until within a very few years the first Empress of the French People has been pic- tured to the world as her grandson Napoleon III desired that she appear—a fitting type for popular adoration—more of a saint and a martyr than of a woman. The present sketch is an attempt to tell a true story of her life as it is revealed by the recent diligent researches of Frederic Mas- son and by the numerous memoirs of the periods which have appeared, many of them since the passing of the Second Empire. If the story as told here is frank, it is hoped by the author that it will not be found unsympathetic. 15 BORN 1746; DIED 1785. ER, OF NAPOLEON. APARTE, FATHER, CHARLES BON 16 PENCIL SKETCHES BY DAVID, REPRESENTING BONAPARTE AT BRIENNE, BONAPARTE GENERAL OF THE ARMY OF ITALY, BONAPARTE AS EMPEROR. LIFE OF NAPOLEON CHAPTER I NAPOLEON’S YOUTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS—HIS SCHOOL DAYS AT BRIENNE “TF I were not convinced that his family is as old and as good as my own,” said the Emperor of Austria when he married Marie Louise ‘to Napoleon Bonaparte, “T would not give him my daughter.” The remark is suffi- cient recognition of the nobility of the father of Napoleon, Charles Marie de Bonaparte, a gentleman of Ajaccio, Cor- sica, whose family, of Tuscan origin, had settled there in the sixteenth century, and who, in 1765, had married a young girl of the island, Letitia Ramolino. Monsieur Bonaparte gave his wife a noble name, but little else. He was an indolent, pleasure-loving, chimerical man, who had inherited'a lawsuit, and whose time was ab- sorbed in the hopeless task of recovering an estate of which the Church had taken possession. Madame Bonaparte 17 18 LIFE OF NAPOLEON brought her husband no great name, but she did bring him health, beauty, and remarkable qualities. Tall and impos- ing, Mademoiselle Letitia Ramolino had a superb carriage, which she never lost, and a face which attracted attention particularly by the accentuation and perfection of its fea- tures. She was reserved, but of ceaseless energy and will, and though but fifteen when married, she conducted her family affairs with such good sense and firmness that she was able to bring up decently the eight children spared her from the thirteen she bore. The habits of order and econ- omy formed in her years of struggle became so firmly rooted in her character that later, when she became mater regum, the “Madame Mére” of an imperial court, she could not put them aside, but saved from the generous income at her disposal, “‘ for those of my children who are not yet settled,” she said. Throughout her life she showed the truth of her son’s characterization : “A man’s head on a woman’s body.” The first years after their marriage were stormy ones for the Bonapartes. The Corsicans, led by the patriot Pascal ‘Paoli, were in revolt against the French, at that time mas- ters of the island. Among Paoli’s followers was Charles Bonaparte. He shared the fortunes of his chief to the end of the struggle of 1769, and when, finally, Paoli was hope- lessly defeated, took to the mountains. In all the dangers and miseries of this war tnd flight, Charles Bonaparte was -accompanied by his wife, who, vigorous of body and brave of heart, suffered privations, dangers, and fatigue without complaint. When the Corsicans submitted, the Bonapartes went back to Ajaccio. Six weeks later Madame Bonaparte gave birth to her fourth child, Napoleon. “T was born,” said Napoleon, “ when my country was perishing. Thirty thousand Frenchmen were vomited upon our soil. Cries of the wounded, sighs of the oppressed, and tears of despair surrounded my cradle at my birth.” NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 19 Young Bonaparte learned to hate with the fierceness pecu- liar to Corsican blood the idea of oppression, to revere Paoli, and, with a boy’s contempt of necessity, even to despise his father’s submission. It was not strange. His mother had little time for her children’s training. His father gave them no attention; and Napoleon, “ obstinate and curious,” dom- ineering over his brothers and companions, fearing no one, ran wild on the beach with the sailors or over the mountains with the herdsmen, listening to their tales of the Corsican rebellion and of fights, on sea and land, imbibing their con- tempt for submission, their love for liberty. At nine years of age he was a shy, proud, wilful child, unkempt and untrained, little, pale, and nervous, almost without instruction, and yet already enamored of a soldier’s life and conscious of a certain superiority over his comrades. Then it was that he was suddenly transplanted from his free life to an environment foreign in its language, artificial in its etiquette, and severe in its regulations. It was as a dependent, a species of charity pupil, that he went into this new atmosphere. Charles Bonaparte had be- come, in the nine years since he had abandoned the cause of Paoli, a thorough parasite. Like all the poor nobility of the country to which he had attached himself, and even like many of the rich in that day, he begged favors of every de- scription from the government in return for his support. To aid in securing them, he humbled himself before the French Governor-General of Corsica, the Count de Mar- boeuf, and made frequent trips, which he could ill afford, back and forth to Versailles. The free education of his children, a good office with its salary and honors, the main- tenance of his claims against the Jesuits, were among the favors which he sought. By dint of solicitation he had secured a place among the free pupils of the college at Autun for his son Joseph, the LAETITIA RAMOLINO, NAPOLEON’S MOTHER. LORN 1750, DIED 1836, 20 NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 21 oldest of the family, and one for Napoleon at the military school at Brienne. To enter the school at Brienne, it was necessary to be able to read and write French, and to pass a preliminary exam- ination in that language. This young Napoleon could not do; indeed, he could scarcely have done as much in his native Italian. A preparatory school was necessary, then, for atime. The place settled on was Autun, where Joseph was to enter college, and there in January, 1779, Charles Bonaparte arrived with the two boys. Napoleon was nine and a half years old when he entered the school at Autun. He-remained three months, and in that time made sufficient progress to fulfil the requirements at Brienne. The principal record of the boy’s conduct at Autun comes from Abbé Chardon, who was at the head of the primary department. He says of his pupil: “Napoleon brought to Autun a sombre, thoughtful character. He was interested in no one. and found his amusements by himself. He rarely had a companion in his walks. He was quick to learn, and quick of apprehension in all ways. When I gave him a lesson, he fixed his eyes upon me with parted lips; but if I recapitulated anything I had’ said, his interest was gone, as he plainly showed by his manner. When reproved for this, he would answer coldly, I might almost say with an imperious air, ‘I know it already, sir.’ ” When he went to Brienne, Napoleon left his brother Jo- seph behind at Autun. The boy had not now one familiar feature in his life. The school at Brienne was made up of about one hundred and twenty pupils, half of whom were supported by the government. They were sons of nobles, who, generally, had little but their great names, and whose rule for getting on in the world was the rule of the old régime—secure a powerfnl patron, and, by flattery and ser- vile attentions, continue in his train. Young Bonaparte heard little but boasting, and saw little but vanity. His first lessons in French society were the doubtful ones of the para- 22 LIFE OF NAPOLEON site and courtier. The motto which he saw everywhere practised was, ‘“‘ The end justifies the means.” His teach- ers were not strong enough men to counteract this influence. . The military schools of France were at this time in the hands of religious orders, and the Minim Brothers, who had charge of Brienne, were principally celebrated for their ignorance. They certainly could not change the arrogant and false notions of their aristocratic young pupils. It was a dangerous experiment to place in such surround- ings a boy like the young Napoleon, proud, ambitious, jeal- ous; lacking any healthful moral training; possessing an Italian indifference to truth and the rights of others; already conscious that he had his own way to make in the world, and inspired by a determination to do it. From the first the atmosphere at Brienne was hateful to the boy. His comrades were French, and it was the French who had subdued Corsica. They taunted him with it some- times, and he told them that had there been but four to one, Corsica would never have been conquered, but that the French came ten to one. When they said: ‘“‘ But your fa- ther submitted,” he said bitterly: “I shall never forgive him for it.” As for Paoli, he told them, proudly, “ He is a good man. I wish I could be like him.” He had trouble with the new language. They jeered at him because of it. His name was strange; la paille au nez was the nickname they made from Napoleon. He was poor; they were rich. The contemptuous treat- ment he received because of his poverty was such that he begged to be taken home. “My father [he wrote], if you or my protectors cannot give me the means of sustaining myself more honorably in the house where I am, please let me return home as soon as possible. I am tired of poverty and of the jeers of insolent scholars who are superior to me only in their fortune, for there is not one among them who feels one hundredth part of the noble sentiment which animates me. Must your son, sir, NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 23 continually be the butt of these boobies, who, vain of the luxuries which they enjoy, insult me by their laughter at the privations which I am forced to endure? No, father, no! If fortune refuses to smile upon me, take me from Brienne, and make me, if you will, a mechanic. From these words you may judge of my despair. This letter, sir, please believe, is not dictated by a vain desire to enjoy extravagant amusements. I have no such wish. I feel simply that it is necessary to show my companions that I can procure them as well as they, if I wish to do so. : “Your respectful and affectionate son, “ BONAPARTE.” Charles Bonaparte, always in pursuit of pleasure and his inheritance, could not help his son. Napoleon made other attempts to escape, even offering himself, it is said, to the British Admiralty as a sailor, and once, at least, begging Monsieur de Marbceuf, the Governor-General of Corsica, who had aided Charles Bonaparte in securing places for both boys, to withdraw his protection. The incident which led to this was characteristic of the school. The supercilious young nobles taunted him with his father’s position; it was nothing but that of a poor tipstaff, they said. Young Bona- parte, stung by what he thought an insult, attacked his tor- mentors, and, being caught in the act, was shut up. He im- mediately wrote to the Count de Marbceuf a letter of re- markable qualities in so young a boy and in such circum- stances. After explaining the incident he said: “Now, Monsieur le Comte, if I am guilty, if my liberty has been taken from me justly, have the goodness to add to the kindnesses which you have shown me one thing more—take me from Brienne and with- draw your protection: it would be robbery on my part to keep it any longer from one who deserves it more than I do. I shall never, sir, be worthier of it than I am now. I shall never cure myself of an im- petuosity which is all the more dangerous because I believe its mo- tive is sacred. Whatever idea of self-interest influences me, I shall never have control enough to see my father, an honorable man, dragged in the mud. I shall always, Monsieur le Comte, feel too deeply in these circumstances to limit myself to complaining to my superior. I shall always feel that a good son ought not to allow another to avenge such an outrage. As for the benefits which you have rained upon me, BONAPARTE AT BRIENNE. The original of this statue is in the gallery of Versailles. It dates from 1851, and is by Louis Rochet, one of the pupils of David d’Angers. 24 NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 25 they will never be forgotten. I shall say I had gained an honorable protection, but Heaven denied me the virtues which were necessary in order to profit by it.” In the end Napoleon saw that there was no way for him but to remain at Brienne, galled by poverty and formalism. It would be unreasonable to suppose that there was no relief to this sombre life. The boy won recognition more than once from his companions by his bravery and skill in defending his rights. He was not only valorous; he was generous, and, “ preferred going to prison himself to de- nouncing his comrades who had done wrong.”’ Young Na- poleon found, soon, that if there were things for which he was ridiculed, there were others for which he was ap- plauded. He made friends, particularly among his teachers; and to one of his comrades, Bourrienne, he remained attached for years. “ You never laugh at me; you like me,” he said to his friend. Those who found him morose and surly, did not realize that beneath the reserved, sullen exterior of the little Corsican boy there was a proud and passionate heart aching for love and recognition; that it was sensitiveness rather than arrogance which drove him away from his mates. At the end of five and one-half years Napoleon was pro- moted to the military school at Paris. The choice of pupils for this school was made by an inspector, at this time one Chevalier de Kéralio, an amiable old man, who was fond of mingling with the boys as well as examining them. He was particularly pleased with Napoleon, and named him for pro- motion in spite of his being strong in nothing but mathemat- ics, and not yet being of the age required by the regulations. The teachers protested, but De Kéralio insisted. “T know what I am doing,” he said. “If I put the rules aside'in this case, it is not to do his family a favor—I do 26 LIFE OF NAPOLEON not know them. It is because of the child himself. I have seen a spark here which cannot be too carefully cultivated.” De Kéralio died before the nominations were made, but his wishes in regard to young Bonaparte were carried out. The recommendation which sent him up is curious. The notes read: “Monsieur de Bonaparte; height four feet, ten inches and ten lines; he has passed his fourth examination; good constitution, excellent health; submissive character, frank and grateful; regular in conduct; has distinguished himself by his application to mathematics; is passa- bly well up in history and geography; is behindhand in his Latin, Will make an excellent sailor. Deserves to be sent to the school in Paris.” CHAPTER II NAPOLEON IN PARIS—-LIEUTENANT OF ARTILLERY—LITER- ARY WORK-—NAPOLEON AND THE REVOLUTION Ecole Militaire at Paris, the same school which still faces the Champ de Mars. He was fifteen years old at the time, a thin-faced, awkward, countrified boy, who stared open-mouthed at the Paris street sights and seemed singularly out of place to those who saw him in the capital for the first time. Napoleon found his new associates even more distasteful than those at Brienne had been. The pupils of the Ecole Militaire were sons of soldiers and provincial gentlemen, educated gratuitously, and rich young men who paid for their privileges. The practices of the school were luxuri- ous. There was a large staff of servants, costly stables, several courses at meals. Those who were rich spent freely; most of those who were poor ran in debt. Napoleon could not pay his share in the lunches and gifts which his mates offered now and then to teachers and fellows. He saw his sister Eliza, who was at Madame de Maintenon’s school at St. Cyr, weep one day for the same reason. He would not borrow. ‘“ My mother has already too many expenses, and I have no business-to increase them by extravagances which are simply imposed upon me by the stupid folly of my com- rades.” But he did complain loudly to his friends. The Permons, a Corsican family living on the Quai Conti, who made Napoleon thoroughly at home, even holding a room 27 | was in October, 1784, that Napoleon was placed in the 28 LIFE OF NAPOLEON at his disposal, frequently discussed these complaints. Was it vanity and envy, or a wounded pride and just indigna- tion? The latter, said Monsieur Permon. This feeling was so profound with Napoleon, that, with his natural in- stinct for regulating whatever was displeasing to him, he prepared a memorial to the government, full of good, prac- tical sense, on the useless luxury of the pupils. A year in Paris finished Napoleon’s military education, and in October, 1785, when sixteen years old, he received his appointment as second lieutenant of the artillery in a regiment stationed at Valence. Out of the fifty-eight pupils entitled that year to the promotion of second lieutenant, but six went to the artillery; of these six Napoleon was one. His examiner said of him: “Reserved and studious, he prefers study to any amusement, and enjoys reading the best authors; applies himself earnestly to the ab- stract sciences; cares little for anything else. He is silent and loves solitude. He is capricious, haughty, and excessively egotistical; talks little, but is quick and energetic in his replies, prompt and severe in his repartees; has great pride and ambitions, aspiring to anything. The young man is worthy of patronage.” He left Paris at once, on money borrowed from a cloth merchant whom his father had patronized, not sorry, prob- ably, that his school-days were over, though it is certain that all of those who had been friendly to him in this period he never forgot in the future. Several of his old teachers at Brienne received pensions; one was made rector of the School of Fine Arts established at Compiégne, another librarian at Malmaison, where the porter was the former porter at Brienne. The professors of the Ecole Militaire were equally well taken care of, as well as many of his schoolmates. During the Consulate, learning that Madame de Montesson, wife of the Duke of Orleans, was still living, he sent for her to come to the Tuileries, and asked what he NAPOLEON IN PARIS 29 could do for her. ‘‘ But, General,’ protested Madame de Montesson, “I have no claim upon you.” “You do not know, then,” replied the First Consul, “that I received my first crown from you. You went to Brienne with the Duke of Orleans to distribute the prizes, and in placing a laurel wreath on my head, you said: ‘ May it bring you happiness.’ They say I am a fatalist, Madame, so it is quite plain that I could not forget what you no longer remember ;”’ and the First Consul caused the sixty thousand francs of yearly income left Madame de Montesson by the Duke of Orleans, but confiscated in the Revolution, to be returned. Later, at her request, he raised one of her rela- tives to the rank of senator. In 1805, when emperor, Na- poleon gave a life pension of six thousand francs to the son of his former protector, the Count de Marbceuf, and with it went his assurance of interest and good-will in all the cir- cumstances of the young man’s life. Generous, forbearing, even tender remembrance of all who had been associated with him in his early years, was one of Napoleon’s marked characteristics. His new position at Valence was not brilliant. He had an annual income of two hundred and twenty-four dollars, and there was much hard work. It was independence, how- ever, and life opened gayly to the young officer. He made many acquaintances, and for the first time saw something of society and women. Madame Colombier, whose salon was the leading one of the town, received him, introduced him to powerful friends, and, indeed, prophesied a great future for him. The sixteen-year-old officer, in spite of his shabby clothes and big boots, became a favorite. He talked brilliantly and freely, began to find that he could please, and, for the first time, made love a little—to Mademoiselle Colombier— a frolicking boy-and-girl love, the object of whose stolen ‘Buouv,y sjosuerg Aq Supured eve wor “AONAIVA LV ALYVAVNOG 30 NAPOLEON IN PARIS 31 rendezvous was to eat cherries together. Mademoiselle Mion-Desplaces, a pretty Corsican girl in Valence, also re- ceived some attention from him. Encouraged by his good beginning, and ambitious for future success, he even began to take dancing lessons. Had there been no one but himself to think of, everything would have gone easily, but the care of his family was upon him. His father had died a few months before, February, 1785, and left his affairs in a sad tangle. Joseph, now nearly eighteen years of age, who had gone to Autun in 1779 with Napoleon, had remained there until 1785. The intention was to make him a priest; suddenly he declared that he would not be anything but a soldier. It was to undo all that had been done for him; but his father made an effort to get him into a military school. Before the ar- rangements were complete Charles Bonaparte died, and Joseph was obliged to return to Corsica, where he was pow- erless to do anything for his mother and for the four young children at home: Louis, aged nine; Pauline, seven; Caro- line, five; Jerome, three. ‘Lucien, now nearly eleven years old, was at Brienne, re- fusing to become a soldier, as his family desired, and giving his time to literature; but he was not a free pupil, and the six hundred francs a year needful for him was a heavy tax. Eliza alone was provided for. She had entered St. Cyr in 1784 as one of the two hundred and fifty pupils supported there by his Majesty, and to be a demoiselle de St. Cyr was to be fed, taught, and clothed from seven to twenty, and, on leaving, to receive a dowry of three thousand francs, a trousseau, and one hundred and fifty francs for travelling expenses home. Napoleon regarded his family’s situation more seriously than did his brothers. Indeed, when at Brienne he had shown an interest, a sense of responsibility, and a good 32 LIFE OF NAPOLEON judgment about the future of his brothers and sisters, quite amazing in so young a boy. When he was fifteen years old, he wrote a letter to his uncle, which, for its keen analy- sis, would do credit to the father of a family. The subject was his brother Joseph’s desire to abandon the Church and go into the king’s service. Napoleon is summing up the pros and cons: “First. As father says, he has not the courage to face the perils of an action; his health is feeble, and will not allow him to support the fatigues of a campaign; and my brother looks on the military pro- fession only from a garrison point of view. He would make a good garrison officer. He is well made, light-minded, knows how to pay compliments, and with these talents he will always get. on well in society. Second. He has received an ecclesiastical education, and it is very late to undo that. Monseignor the Bishop of Autun would have given him a fat living, and he would have been sure to become a bishop. What an advantage for the family! Monseignor of Autun has done all he could to encourage him to persevere, promising that he should never repent. Should he persist, in wishing to be a soldier, I must praise him, provided he has a decided taste for his profession, the fin- est of all, and the great motive power of human affairs. . . . He wishes to be a military man. That is all very well; but in what corps? Is it the marine? First: He knows nothing of mathematics; it would take him two years to learn. Second: His health is incompatible with the sea. Is it the engineers? He would require four or five years to learn what is necessary, and at the end of that time he would be only a cadet. Besides, working all day long would not suit him. The same reasons which apply to the engineers apply to the artillery, with this exception; that he would have to work eighteen montk> to be- come a cadet, and eighteen months more to become ani officer. No doubt he wishes to join the infantry. . . . And what is the slender infantry, officer? Three-fourths of the time a scapegrace. Bn 58s 2 A last effort will be made to persuade him to enter the Church, in default of which, father will take him to Corsica, where he will be under his eye.” It was not strange that Charles Bonaparte considered the advice of a son who could write so clear-headed a letter as the one just quoted, or that the boy’s uncle Lucien said, NAPOLEON IN PARIS 33 before dying: “ Remember, that if Joseph is the older, Na- poleon is the real head of the house.” Now that young Bonaparte was in an independent posi- tion, he felt still more keenly his responsibility, and it was for this reason, as well as because of ill-health, that he left his regiment in February, 1787, on a leave which he ex- tended to nearly fifteen months, and which he spent in ener- getic efforts to better his family’s situation, working to re- establish salt works and a mulberry plantation in which they were concerned, to secure the nomination of Lucien to the college at Aix, and to place Louis at a French military school. When he went back to his regiment, now stationed at Auxonne, he denied himself to send money home, and spent his leisure in desperate work, sleeping but six hours, eating but one meal a day, dressing once in the week. Like all the young men of the country who had been animated by the philosophers and encyclopedists, he had attempted literature, and at this moment was finishing a history of Corsica, a portion of which he had written at Valence and submitted to the Abbé Raynal, who had encouraged him to go on. The manuscript was completed and ready for publication in 1788, and the author made heroic efforts to find some one who would accept a dedication, as well as some one who would publish it. Before he had succeeded, events had crowded the work out of sight, and other ambitions occu- pied his forces. Napoleon had many literary projects on hand at this time. He had been a prodigious reader, and was never so happy as when he could save a few cents with which to buy second-hand books. From everything he read he made long extracts, and kept a book of “ thoughts.” Most curious are some of these fragments, reflections on the beginning of society, on love, on nature. They show that he was passionately absorbed in forming ideas on the great questions of life and its relations. 34 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Besides his history of Corsica, he had already written several fragments, among them an historical drama called the ‘ Count of Essex,”’ and a story, the ‘ Masque Proph- éte.’ He undertook, too, to write a sentimental journey in the style of Sterne, describing a trip from Valence to Mont-Cenis. Later he competed for a prize offered by the Academy of Lyons on the subject: “To determine what truths and feelings should be inculcated in men for their hap- piness.” He failed in the contest; indeed, the essay was severely criticised for its incoherency and poor style. The Revolution of 1789 turned Napoleon’s mind to an ambition greater than that of writing the history of Corsica —he would free Corsica. The National Assembly had lifted the island from its inferior relation and made it a depart- ment of France, but sentiment was much divided, and the ferment was similar to that which agitated the mainland. Napoleon, deeply interested in the progress of the new liberal ideas, and seeing, too, the opportunity for a soldier and an agitator among his countrymen, hastened home, where he spent some twenty-five months out of the next two and a half years. That the young officer spent five-sixths of his time in Corsica, instead of in service, and that he in more than one instance pleaded reasons for leaves of absence which one would have to be exceedingly unsophisticated not to see were trumped up for the occasion, cannot be at- tributed merely to duplicity of character and contempt for authority. He was doing only what he had learned to do at the military schools of Brienne and Paris, and what he saw practised about him in the army. Indeed, the whole French army at that period made a business of shirking duty. Every minister of war in the period complains of the incessant de- sertions among the common soldiers. Among the officers it was no better. True, they did not desert; they held their places and—did nothing. ‘‘ Those who were rich and well NAPOLEON IN PARIS 35 born had no need to work,” says the Marshal Duc de Bro- glie. “ They were promoted by favoritism. Those who were poor and from the provinces had no need to work either. It did them no good if they did, for, not having patronage, they could not advance.” The Comte de Saint-Germain said in regard to the officers: “ There is not one who is in active service; they one and all amuse themselves and look out for their own affairs.” Napoleon, tormented by the desire to help his family, goaded by his ambition and by an imperative inborn need of action and achievement, still divided in his allegiance be- tween France and Corsica, could not have been expected, in his environment, to take nothing more than the leaves al- lowed by law. Revolutionary agitation did not absorb all the time he was in Corsica. Never did he work harder for his family. The portion of this two and a half years which he spent in France, he was accompanied by Louis, whose tutor he had become, and he suffered every deprivation to help him. Na- poleon’s income at that time was sixty-five cents a day. This meant that he must live in wretched rooms, prepare himself the broth on which he and his brother dined, never go to a café, brush his own clothes, give Louis lessons. He did it bravely. “I breakfasted off dry bread, but I bolted my door on my poverty,” he said once to a young officer com- plaining of the economies he must make on two hundred dollars a month. Economy and privation were always more supportable to him than borrowing. He detested irregularities in finan- cial matters. “ Your finances are deplorably conducted, ap- parently on metaphysical principles. Believe me, money is a very physical thing,” he once said to Joseph, when the latter, as King of Naples, could not make both ends meet. He put. Jerome to sea largely to stop his reckless expenditures. (At BONAPARTE AT THE TUILERIES, AUGUST 10, 1792. After a lithograph by Charlet. Lieutenant Bonaparte on the terrace of the Tuileries, watching the crowd of rioters who were hastening to the massacre of the Swiss Guards. 36 NAPOLEON IN PARIS 37 fifteen that young man paid three thousand two hundred dollars for a shaving case “ containing everything except the beard to enable its owner to use it.”) Some of the most furious scenes which occurred between Napoleon and Jo- sephine were because she was continually in debt. After the divorce he frequently cautioned her to be watchful of her money. “Think what a bad opinion I should have of you if I knew you were in debt with an income of six hundred thousand dollars a year,” he wrote her in 1813. The methodical habits of Marie Louise were a constant satisfaction to Napoleon. “She settles all her accounts once a week, deprives herself of new gowns if necessary, and im- poses privations upon herself in order to keep out of debt,” he said proudly. A bill of sixty-two francs and thirty-two centimes was once sent to him for window blinds placed in the salon of the Princess Borghese. “ As I did not order this expenditure, which ought not to be charged to my bud- get, the princess will pay it,’ he wrote on the margin. It was not parsimony. It was the man’s sense of order. No one was more generous in gifts, pensions, salaries; but it irritated him to see money wasted or managed carelessly. Through his long absence in Corsica, and the complaints which the conservatives of the island had made to the French government of the way he had handled his battalion of Na- tional Guards in a riot at Ajaccio, Napoleon lost his place in the French army. He came to Paris in the spring of 1792, hoping to regain it. But in the confused condition of public affairs little attention was given to such cases, and he was obliged to wait. Almost penniless, he dined on six-cent dishes in cheap restaurants, pawned his watch, and with Bourrienne devised schemes for making a-fortune. One was to rent some new houses going up in the city and to sub-let them. While he waited he saw the famous days of the ‘“‘ Second Revolution ” 38 LIFE OF NAPOLEON —the 20th of June, when the mob surrounded the Tuileries, overran the palace, put the bonnet rouge on Louis XVI_’s head, did everything but strike, as the agitators had in- tended. Napoleon and Bourrienne, loitering on the out- skirts, saw the outrages, and he said, in disgust: “ Che coglione, why did they allow these brutes to come in? They ought to have shot down five or six hundred of them with cannon, and the rest would soon have run.” He saw the roth of August, when the king was deposed. He was still in Paris when the horrible September massacres began—those massacres in which, to “save the country,” the fanatica] and terrified populace resolved to put “ rivers of blood” between Paris and the émigrés. All these ex- cesses filled him with disgust. He began to understand that the Revolution he admired so much needed a head. In August Napoleon was restored to the army. The fol- lowing June found him with his regiment in the south of France. In the interval spent in Corsica, he had abandoned Paoli and the cause of Corsican independence. His old hero had been dragged, in spite of himself, into a movement for separating the island from France. Napoleon had taken the position that the French government, whatever its ex- cesses, was the only advocate in Europe of liberty and equal- ity, and that Corsica would better remain with France rather than seek English aid, as it must if it revolted. But he and his party were defeated, and he with his family was obliged to flee. The Corsican period of his life was over; the French had opened. He began it as a thorough republican. The evo- lution of his enthusiasm for the Revolution had been natural enough. He had been a devoted believer in Rousseau’s principles. The year 1789 had struck down the abuses which galled him in French society and government. After the flight of the king in 1791 he had taken the oath: NAPOLEON IN PARIS 39 “TI swear to employ the arms placed in my hands for the defence of the country, and to maintain against all her enemies, both from within and from without, the Constitution as declared by the National Assembly; to die rather than to suffer the invasion of the French ter- ritory by foreign troops, and to obey orders given in accordance with the decree of the National Assembly.” “The nation is now the paramount object,” he wrote; “my natural inclinations are now in harmony with my du- ties.” The efforts of the court and the émigrés to overthrow the new government had increased his devotion to France. “ My southern blood leaps in my veins with the rapidity of the Rhone,” he said, when the question of the preservation of the Constitution was brought up. The months spent at Paris in 1792 had only intensified his radical notions. Now that he had abandoned his country, rather than assist it to fight the Revolution, he was better prepared than ever to become a Frenchman. It seemed the only way to repair his and his family’s fortune. Po The condition of the Bonapartes om arriving in France after their expulsion from Corsica was abject. Their prop- erty “ pillaged, sacked, and burned,” they had escaped pen- niless—were, in fact, refugees dependent upon French bounty. They wandered from place to place, but at last found a good friend in Monsieur Clary of Marseilles, a soap- boiler, with two pretty daughters, Julie and Désirée, and Joseph and Napoleon became inmates of his house. It was not as a soldier but as a writer that Napoleon first distinguished himself in this new period of his life. An in- surrection against the government had arisen in Marseilles. In an imaginary conversation called le souper de Beaucaire, Napoleon discussed the situation so clearly and justly that Salicetti, Gasparin, and Robespierre the younger, the depu- ties who were looking after the South, ordered the paper published at public expense, and distributed it as a campaign co Giro-Damsco PORTRAIT OF BONAPARTE, DONE IN CRAYON BY ONE OF HIS SCHOOLFELLOWS. This sketch, which used to figure in the Musée des Souverains, became after- wards the property of Monsieur de Beaudicourt, who lately presented it to the Louvre. It possesses an exceptional interest. Executed at Brienne by one of the schoolfellows of the future Cesar, it may be considered as the first portrait of Bonaparte taken from life. Under it are these words written in pencil: “Mio caro amico Buonaparte. Pontormini del Tournone. 1785.” 40 NAPOLEON IN PARIS 41 document. More, they promised to favor the author when they had an opportunity. It soon came. Toulon had opened its doors to the Eng- lish and joined Marseilles in a counter-revolution. Napo- leon was in the force sent against the town, and he was soon promoted to the command of the Second Regiment of artil- lery. His energy and skill won him favorable attention. He saw at once that the important point was not besieging the town, as the general in command was doing and the Convention had ordered, but in forcing the allied fleet from the harbor, when the town must fall of itself. But the com- mander-in-chief was slow, and it was not until the command was changed and an officer of experience and wisdom put in charge that Napoleon’s plans were listened to. The new general saw at once their value, and hastened to carry them out. The result was the withdrawal of the allies in Decem- ber, 1793, and the fall of Toulon. Bonaparte was mentioned by the general-in-chief as “ one of those who have most dis- tinguished themselves in aiding me,” and in February, 1794, was made general of brigade. It is interesting to note that it was at Toulon that Napo- leon first came in contact with the English. Here he made the acquaintance of Junot, Marmont, and Duroc. Barras, too, had his attention drawn to him at the same time. The circumstances which brought Junot and Napoleon together at Toulon were especially heroic. Some one was needed to carry an order to an exposed point. Napoleon asked for an under officer, audacious and intelligent. Junot, then a sergeant, was sent. ‘‘ Take off your uniform and carry this order there,” said Napoleon, indicating the point. Junot blushed and his eyes flashed. “I am not a spy,” he answered; “find some one beside me to execute such an order.” “You refuse to obey?” said Napoleon. 42 LIFE OF NAPOLEON “Tam ready to obey,” answered Junot, ‘‘ but I will go in my uniform or not go at all. It is honor enough then for these Englishmen.” The officer smiled and let him go, but he took pains to find out his name. A few days later Napoleon called for some one in the ranks who wrote a good hand to come to him. Junot of- fered himself, and sat down close to the battery to write the letter. He had scarcely finished when a bomb thrown by the English burst near by and covered him and his letter with earth. “Good,” said Junot, laughing, “I shall not need any sand to dry the ink.” Bonaparte looked at the young man, who had not even trembled at the danger. From that time the young sergeant remained with the commander of artillery. CHAPTER III NAPOLEON AND ROBESPIERRE—OUT OF WORK—GENERAL« IN-CHIEF OF THE ARMY OF THE INTERIOR HE favors granted Napoleon for his services at Tou- lon were extended to his family. Madame Bona- parte was helped by the municipality of Marseilles. Joseph was made commissioner of war. Lucien was joined to the Army of Italy, and in the town where he was stationed became famous as a popular orator—“ little Robespierre,” they called him. He began, too, here to make love to his landlord’s daughter, Christine Boyer, afterwards his wife. The outlook for the refugees seemed very good, and it was made still brighter by the very particular friendship of the younger Robespierre for Napoleon. This friendship was soon increased by the part Napoleon played in a cam- paign of a month with the Army of Italy, when, largely by his genius, the seaboard from Nice to Genoa was put into French power. If this victory was much for the army and for Robespierre, it was more for Napoleon. He looked from the Tende, and saw for the first time that in Italy there was “a land for a conqueror.”” Robespierre wrote to his brother, the real head of the government at the moment, that Napoleon possessed “transcendent merit.” He engaged him to draw up a plan for a campaign against Piedmont, and sent him on a secret mission to Genoa. The relations be- tween the two young men were, in fact, very close, and, con- sidering the position of Robespierre the elder, the outlook for Bonaparte was good. 43 44 LIFE OF NAPOLEON That Bonaparte admired the powers of the elder Robes- pierre, is unquestionable. He was sure that if he had “ re- mained in power, he would have reéstablished order and law; the result would have been attained without any shocks, because it would have come through the quiet exer- cise of power.’ Nevertheless, it is certain that the young general was unwilling to come into close contact with the Terrorist leader, as his refusal of an offer to go to Paris to take the command of the garrison of the city shows. No doubt his refusal was partly due to his ambition—he thought the opening better where he was—and partly due, too, to his dislike of the excesses which the government was practising. That he never favored the policy of the Terrorists, all those who knew him testify, and there are many stories of his efforts at this time to save émigrés and suspects from the vio- lence of the rabid patriots; even to save the English im- prisoned at Toulon. He always remembered Robespierre the younger with kindness, and when he was in power gave Charlotte Robespierre a pension. Things had begun to go well for Bonaparte. His pov- erty passed. If his plan for an Italian campaign succeeded, he might even aspire to the command of the army. His brothers received good positions. Joseph was betrothed to Julie Clary, and life went gayly at Nice and Marseilles, where Napoleon had about him many of his friends—Robes- © pierre and his sister; his own two pretty sisters; Marmont, and Junot, who was deeply in love with Pauline. Suddenly all this hope and happiness were shattered. On the goth Thermidor Robespierre fell, and all who had favored him were suspected, Napoleon among the rest. His secret mis- sion to Genoa gave a pretext for his arrest, and for thirteen days, in August, 1794, he was a prisoner, but through his friends was liberated. Soon after his release, came an ap- pointment to join an expedition against Corsica. He set NAPOLEON AND ROBESPIERRE 45 out, but the undertaking was a failure, and the spring found him again without a place. In April, 1795, Napoleon received orders to join the Army of the West. When he reached Paris he found that it was the infantry to which he was assigned. Such a change was considered a disgrace in the army. He refused to go. “A great many officers could command a brigade better than I could,” he wrote a friend, ‘“‘ but few could command the ar- tillery so well. I retire, satisfied that the injustice done to the service will be sufficiently felt by those who know how to appreciate matters.” But though he might call himself “ satisfied,” his retirement was a most serious affair for him. It was the collapse of what seemed to be a career, the shut- ting of the gate he had worked so fiercely to open. He must begin again, and he did not see how. A sort of despair settled over him. ‘He declaimed against fate,” says the Duchess: d’Abrantés. “I was idle and discon- tented,” he says of himself. He went to the theatre and sat sullen and inattentive through the gayest of plays. “He had moments of fierce hilarity,” says Bourrienne. A pathetic distaste of effort came over him at times; he wanted to settle. “If I could have that house,” he said one day to Bourrienne, pointing to an empty house near by, “ with my friends and a cabriolet, I should be the happiest of men.” He clung to his friends with a sort of desperation, and his letters to Joseph are touching in the extreme. Love as well as failure caused his melancholy. All about him, indeed, turned thoughts to marriage. Joseph was now married, and his happiness made him envious. “ What a lucky rascal Joseph is!” he said. Junot, madly in love with Pauline, was with him. The two young men wandered through the alleys of the Jardin des Plantes and discussed Junot’s passion. In listening to his friend, Napoleon thought of himself. He had been attracted by Désirée Clary, NAPOLEON IN_ PRISON. After a lithograph by Motte. Bonaparte, master of Toulon, had already attained fame when the events of Thermidor imposed a sudden check on his career. His relations with the younger Robespierre laid him open to suspicion; he was suspended from his functions and put under arrest by the deputies of the Convention. 46 NAPOLEON AND ROBESPIERRE 47 Joseph’s sister-in-law. Why not try to win her? And he began to demand news of her from Joseph. Désirée had asked for his portrait, and he wrote: “I shall have it taken for her; you must give it to her, if she still wants it; if not, keep it yourself.”” He was melancholy when he did not have news of her, accused Joseph of purposely omitting her name from his letters, and Désirée herself of forgetting him. At last he consulted Joseph: “If I remain here, it is just possi- ble that I might feel inclined to commit the folly of marry- ing. I should be glad of a line from you on the subject. You might perhaps speak to Eugénie’s [Désirée’s] brother, and let me know what he says, and then it will be settled.” He waited the answer to his overtures “ with impatience ’’; urged his brother to arrange things so that nothing “‘ may prevent that which I long for.” But Désirée was obdurate. Later she married Bernadotte and became Queen of Sweden. Yet in these varying moods he was never idle. As three years before, he and Bourrienne indulged in financial spec- ulations; he tried to persuade Joseph to invest his wife’s dot in the property of the émigrés. He prepared memorials on the political disorders of the times and on military questions, and he pushed his brothers as if he had no personal ambition. He did not neglect to make friends either. The most im- portant of those whom he cultivated was Paul Barras, revolu- tionist, conventionalist, member of the Directory, and one of the most influential men in Paris at that moment. He had known Napoleon at Toulon, and showed himself disposed to be friendly. “I attached myself to Barras,” said Napo- leon later, “‘ because I knew no one else. Robespierre was dead; Barras was playing a réle: I had to attach myself to somebody and something.” One of his plans for himself was to go to Turkey. For two or three years, in fact, Napo- leon had thought of the Orient as a possible field for his genius, and his mother had often worried lest he should go. 48 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Just now it happened that the Sultan of Turkey asked the French for aid in reorganizing his artillery and perfecting the defences of his forts, and Napoleon asked to be allowed to undertake the work. While pushing all his plans with extraordinary enthusiasm, even writing Joseph almost daily letters about what he would do for him when he was settled in the Orient, he was called to do a piece of work which was to be of importance in his future. The war committee needed plans for an Italian campaign; the head of the committee was in great perplexity. Nobody knew anything about the condition of things in the South. By chance, one day, one of Napoleon’s acquaintances heard of the difficulties and recommended the young general. The memorial he prepared was so excellent that he was invited into the topographical bureau of the Committee of Public Safety. His knowledge, sense, energy, fire, were so re- markable that he made strong friends and became an im- portant personage. Such was the impression he made, that when in October, 1795, the government was threatened by the revolting sec- tions, Barras, the nominal head of the defence, asked Napo- leon to command the forces which protected the Tuileries, where the Convention had gone into permanent session. He hesitated for a moment. He had much sympathy for the sections. His sagacity conquered. The Convention stood for the republic; an overthrow now meant another pro- scription, more of the Terror, perhaps a royalist succession, an English invasion. “T accept,” he said to Barras; “ but I warn you that once my sword is out of the scabbard I shall not replace it till I have established order.” It was on the night of 12th Vendémiaire that Napoleon was appointed. With incredible rapidity he massed the men and cannon he could secure at the openings into the palace NAPOLEON AND ROBESPIERRE 49 and at the points of approach. He armed even the members of the Convention as a reserve. When the sections marched their men into the streets and upon the bridges leading to the Tuileries, they were met by a fire which scattered them at once. That night Paris was quiet. The next day Napo- leon was made general of division. On October 26th he was appointed general-in-chief of the Army of the Interior. At last the opportunity he had sought so long and so eagerly had come. It was a proud position for a young man of twenty-six, and one may well stop and ask how he had obtained it. The answer is not difficult for one who, dismissing the prejudices and superstitions which have long enveloped his name, studies his story as he would that of an unknown individual. He had won his place as any poor and ambitious boy in any country and in any age must win his—by hard work, by grasping at every opportunity, by constant self-denial, by courage in every failure, by spring- ing to his feet after every fall. He succeeded because he knew every detail of his business (“ There is nothing I cannot do for myself. If there is no one to make powder for the cannon I can do it’’); because neither ridicule nor coldness nor even the black discourage- ment which made him write once to Joseph, “ If this state of things continues I shall end by not turning out of my path when a carriage passes,’ could stop him; because he had profound faith in himself. “‘ Do these people imagine that I want their help to rise? They will be too glad some day to accept mine. My sword is at my side, and I will go far with it.’ That he had misrepresented conditions more than once to secure favor, is true; but in doing this he had done simply what he saw done all about him, what he had learned from his father, what the oblique morality of the day justified. That he had shifted opinions and allegiance, is equally true; but he who in the French Revolution did not shift opinion BMonuypmik ca ) itr ees = = = PEN PORTRAIT OF BONAPARTE IN PROFILE. By Gros. This drawing, which I discovered among the port- folios of the Louvre, is one of the most precious documents of Napoleonic portraiture. Tt was the gift of Monsieur Delestre, the pupil and biographer of Gros. In this clear profile we see already all that characteristic expression sought for by Gros above every- thing, and superbly rendered by him soon after in the portrait of Bonaparte at Arcola. J imagine that this pen sketch was prepara- tory to a finished portrait.—A. D. 50 NAPOLEON AND ROBESPIERRE 51 was he who regarded “ not what is, but what might be.” Certainly in no respect had he been worse than his environ- ment, and in many respects he had been far above it. He had struggled for place, not that he might have ease, but that he might have an opportunity for action; not that he might amuse himself, but that he might achieve glory. Nor did he seek honors merely for himself; it was that he might share them with others. The first use Bonaparte made of his power after he was appointed general-in-chief of the Army of the Interior, was for his family and friends. Fifty or sixty thousand francs, assignats, and dresses go to his mother and sisters; Joseph is to have a consulship; “a roof, a table, and carriage” are at his disposal in Paris; Louis is made a lieutenant and his aide-de-camp ; Lucien, commissioner of war; Junot and Mar- mont are put on his staff. He forgets nobody. The very day after the 13th Vendémiaire, when his cares and excite- ments were numerous and intense, he was at the Z‘ermon’s, where Monsieur Permon had just died. “He was like a son, a brother.” This relation he soon tried to change, seek- ing to marry the beautiful widow Permon. When she laughed merrily at the idea, for she was many years his senior,. he replied that the age of his wife was a matter of indifference to him so long as she did not look over thirty. The change in Bonaparte himself was great. Up to this time he had gone about Paris “ in an awkward and ungainly manner, with a shabby round hat thrust down over his eyes, and with curls (known at that time as oreilles des chiens) badly powdered and badly combed, and falling over the col- lar of the iron-gray coat which has since become so cele- brated; his hands, long, thin, and black, without gloves, be- cause, he said, they were an unnecessary expense; wearing ill-made and ill-cleaned boots.” The majority of people saw in him only what Monsieur de Pontécoulant, who took 52 LIFE OF NAPOLEON him into the War Office, had seen at their first interview; “A young man with a wan and livid complexion, bowed shoulders, and a weak and sickly appearance.” But now, installed in an elegant hétel, driving his own car- riage, careful of his person, received in every salon where he cared to go, the young general-in-chief is a changed man. Success has had much to do with this; love has perhaps had more. CHAPTER IV NAPOLEON’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE—HIS DEVOTION TO JOSEPHINE N the five months spent in Paris before the 13th Vende- | miaire, Bonaparte saw something of society. One in- teresting company which he often joined, was that gathered about Madame Permon at a hotel in the Rue des Filles Saint-Thomas. This Madame Permon was the same with whom he had taken refuge frequently in the days when he was in the military school of Paris, and whom he had visited later, in 1792, when lingering in town with hope of recovering his place in the army. On this latter occasion he had even exposed himself to aid her and her husband to escape the fury of the Terrorists and to fly from the city. Madame Permon had returned to Paris in the spring of 1795 for a few weeks, and numbers of her old friends had gathered about her as before the Terror, among them, Bonaparte. Another house—and one of very different character—at which he was received, was that of Barras. The 9th Thermi- dor, as the fall of Robespierre is called, released Paris from a strain of terror so great that, in reaction, she plunged for a time into violent excess. In this period of decadence Barras was sovereign. Epicurean by nature, possessing the tastes, culture, and vices of the old régime, he was better fitted than any man in the government to create and direct a dis- solute and luxurious society. Into this set Napoleon was in- troduced, and more than once he expressed his astonishment to Joseph at the turn things had taken in Paris. 53 54 LIFE OF NAPOLEON “ The pleasure-seekers have reappeared, and forget, or, rather, remem- ber only as a dream, that they ever ceased to shine. Libraries are open, and lectures on history, chemistry, astronomy, etc.. succeed each other. Everything is done to amuse and make life agreeable. One has no time to think; and how can one be gloomy in this busy whirlwind? Women are everywhere—at the theatres, on the promenades, in the libraries. In the study of the savant you meet some that are charming. Here alone, of all places in the world, they deserve to hold the helm. The men are mad over them, think only, of them, live only by and for them. A woman need not stay more than six months in Paris to learn what is due her and what is her empire. . This great nation has given itself up to pleasure, dancing, and theatres, and women have become the principal occupation. Ease, luxury, and bon ton have recovered their throne; the Terror is remembered only as a dream.” Bonaparte took his part in the gayeties of his new friends, and was soon on easy terms with most of the women who frequented the salon of Barras, even with the most in- Auential of them all, the famous Madame Tallien, the great beauty of the Directory. Among the women whom he met in the salon of Madame Tallien and at Barras’s own house, was the Viscountess de Beauharnais (née Tascher de la Pagerie), widow of the Marquis de Beauharnais, guillotined on the 5th Thermidor, 1794. At the time of the marquis’s death his wife was a prisoner. She was released soon after and had become an intimate friend of Madame Tallien. All Madame Tal-’ lien’s circle had, indeed, become attached to Josephine de Beauharnais, and with Barras she was on terms of intimacy which led to a great amount of gossip. Without fortune, having two children to support, still trembling at the mem- ory of her imprisonment, indolent and vain, it is not re- markable that Josephine yielded to the pleasures of the society which had saved her from prison and which now opened its arms to her, nor that she accepted the protection of the powerful Director Barras. She was certainly one of the regular habitués of his house, and every week kept court for him at her little home at Croissy, a few miles from Paris. NAPOLEON’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE 55 The Baron Pasquier, afterwards one of the members of Napoleon’s Council of State, was at that moment living in poverty at Croissy—and was a neighbor of Josephine. In his “ Memoirs” he has left a paragraph on the gay little outings taken there by Barras and his friends. “ Her house was next to ours,” says Pasquier. “ She did not come out often at that time, rarely more than once a week, to receive Barras and the troop which always fol- lowed him. From early in the morning we saw the hampers coming. Then mounted gendarmes began to circulate on the route from Nanterre to Croissy, for the young Director came usually on horseback. “ Madame de Beauharnais’s house had, as is often the case among creoles, an appearance of luxury; but, the super- fluous aside, the most necessary things were lacking. Birds, _ game, rare fruits, were piled up in the kitchen (this was the time of our greatest famine), and there was such a want of stewing-pans, glasses, and plates, that they had to come and borrow from our poor stock.” There was much about Josephine de Beauharnais to win the favor of such a man as Barras. A creole past the fresh- ness of youth—Josephine was thirty-two years old in 1795 — she had a grace, a sweetness, a charm, that made one for- get that she was not beautiful, even when she was beside such brilliant women as Madame Tallien and Madame Récamier. It was never possible to surprise her in an at- titude that was not graceful. She was never ruffled or irritable. By nature she was perfection of ease and repose. Artist enough to dress in clinging stuffs made simply, which harmonized perfectly with her style, and skilful enough to use the arts of the toilet to conceal defects which care and age had brought, the Viscountess de Beauharnais was altogether one of the most fascinating women in Madame Tallien’s circle. BONAPARTE, GENERAL OF THE ARMY IN ITALY. Profile in plaster. By David d'Angers. Collection of Monsieur Paul Ile Roux. This energetic profile presents considerable artistic and iconographic interest. It is the first rough cast of the face of Bonaparte on the pediment of the Pantheon at Paris. Some months ago, Baron Larrey told me an interesting anecdote regarding this statue. The Baron, son of the chief surgeon to Napoleon I., and himself ex-military surgeon to Napoleon III., happening to be with the emperor at the camp of Chalons conceived the noble idea of trying to save the pediment of the Pantheon, then about to be destroyed to satisfy the Archbishop of Paris, who regarded with lively displeasure the image of Voltaire figuring on the facade of a building newly consecrated to religion. At the emperor’s table, Baron H. Larrcy adroitly turned the conversation to David, and informed the sovereign, to his surprise, that the proudest effigy of Napoleon was to be seen on this pediment. Bonaparte, in fact, is represented as seizing for himself the crowns distributed by the Fatherland, while the other personages receive them. On hearing this, Napoleon ITI. was silent; but the next day the order was given to respect the pediment. The plaster cast I reproduce here is signed J. David, and dates from 1836. The Pantheon pediment was inaugurated in 1837.—A. D. 56 NAPOLEON’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE 57 The goodness of Josephine’s heart undoubtedly won her as many friends as her grace. Everybody who came to know her at all well, declared her gentle, sympathetic, and helpful. Everybody except, perhaps, the Bonaparte family, who never cared for her, and whom she never tried to win. Lucien, indeed, draws a picture of her in his “ Memoirs ” which, if it could be regarded as unprejudiced, would take much of her charm from her: “Josephine was not disagreeable. or perhaps I better say, everybody declared that she was very good; but it was especially when goodness cost her no sacrifice. . . She had very little wit, and no beauty at all; but there was a certain creole suppleness about her form. She had lost all natural freshness of complexion, but that the arts of the toilet remedied by candle-light. . . In the brilliant companies of the Directory, to which Barras did me the honor of admitting me, she scarcely attracted my attention, so old did she seem to mie, and so in- ferior to the other beauties which ordinarily formed the court of the voluptuous Directors, and among whom the beautiful Tallien was the true Calypso.” But if Lucien was not attracted to Josephine, Napoleon was irom the first; and when, one day, Madame de Beauharnais said some flattering things to him about his military talent, he was fairly intoxicated by her praise, followed her every- where, and fell wildly in love with her; but by her station, her elegance, her influence, she seemed inaccessible to him, and then, too, he was looking elsewhere for a wife. When he first knew her, he was thinking of Désirée Clary; and he had known Josephine some time when he sought the hand of the widow Permon. Though he dared not tell her his love, all his circle knew of it, and Barras at last said to him, “ You should marry Madame de Beauharnais. You have a position and talents which will secure advancement; but you are isolated, with- out fortune and without relations. You ought to marry; it gives weight,” and he asked permission to negotiate the affair. 58 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Josephine was distressed. Barras was her protector. She felt the wisdom of his advice, but Napoleon frightened and wearied her by the violence of his love. In spite of her doubts she yielded at last, and on the gth of March, 1796, they were married. Shortly before, Napoleon had been ap- pointed commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy, and two days later he left his wife for his post. From every station on his route he wrote her passionate letters : “Every moment takes me farther from you, and every moment I feel less able to be away from you. You are ever in my thoughts; my fancy tires itself in trying to imagine what you are doing. If I picture you sad, my heart is wrung and my grief is increased. If you are happy and merry with your friends, I blame you for so soon forgetting the painful three days separation; in that case you are frivolous and destitute of deep feeling. As you see, I am hard to please; but, my dear, it is very different when I fear your health is bad. or that you have any reasons for being sad; then I regret the speed with which I am being separated from my love. I am sure that you have no longer any kind feeling to- ward me, and I can only be satisfied when I have heard that all goes well with you. When any one asks me if I have slept well, I feel that I cannot answer until a messenger brings me word that you have rested well. The illnesses and anger of men affect me only so far as I think they may affect you. May my good genius, who has always protected me amid great perils, guard and protect you! I will gladly dispense with him. Ah! don’t be happy, but be a little melancholy, and, above all, keep sorrow from your mind and illness from your body. You remember what Ossian says about that. Write to me, my pet, and a good long letter, and accept a thousand and one kisses from your best and most loving friend.” Arrived in Italy he wrote: “T have received all your letters, but none has made such an im- pression on me as the last. How can you think, my dear love, of writ- ing to me in such a way? Don’t you believe my position is already cruel enough, without adding to my regrets and tormenting my soul? What a style! What feelings are those you describe! It’s like fire; it burns my poor heart. My only Josephine, away from you there is no happiness; away from you, the world is a desert in which I stand alone, with no chance of. tasting the delicious joy of pouring out my heart. You have robbed me of more than my soul; you are the sole thought of NAPOLEON’S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE = 59 my life. If I am worn out by all the torments of events, and fear the issue, if men disgust me, if I am ready to curse life, I place my hand on my heart; your image is beating there. I look at it, and love is for me perfect happiness; and everything is smiling, except the time that I see myself absent from my love. By what art have you learned how to captivate all my faculties, to concentrate my whole being in yourself? To live for Josephine! That’s the story of my life. I do everything to get to you; I am dying to join you. Fool! Do I not see that I am only going farther from you? How many lands and countries separate us! How long before you will read these words which express but feebly the emotions of the heart over which you reign! . . .” “Don’t be anxious; love me like your eyes—but that’s not enough— like yourself; more than yourself, than your thoughts, your mind, your life, your all. But forgive me, I’m raving. Nature is weak when one loves ze “T have received a letter which you interrupt to go, you say, into the country; and afterwards you pretend to be jealous of me, who am so worn out by work and fatigue. Oh, my dear! . . . Of course, I am in the wrong. In the early spring the country is beautiful; and then the nineteen-year old lover was there, without a doubt. The idea of wast- ing another moment in writing to the man three hundred leagues away, who lives, moves, exists only in memory of you; who reads your letters as one devours one’s favorite dishes after hunting for six hours!” JUNoT (1771-1813). 60 CHAPTER V THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN—-NAPOLEON’S WAY OF MAKING WAR aration from Josephine. Extraordinary difficulties surrounded his new post. ‘Neither the generals nor the men knew anything of their new commander. “ Who is this General Bonaparte? Where has he served? No one knows anything about him,” wrote Junot’s father when the latter at Toulon decided to follow his artillery com- mander. In the Army of Italy they were asking the same questions, and the Directory could only answer as Junot had done: “As far as I can judge, he is one of those men of whom nature is avaricious, and that she permits upon the earth only from age to age.” He was to replace a commander-in-chief who had sneered at his plans for an Italian campaign and who might be ex- pected to put obstacles in his.way. He was to take an army which was in the last stages Bs poverty and discouragement. Their garments,were in rags. Even the officers were so nearly shoeless that when they reached Milan and one of them was invited to dine at the palace of a marquise, he was obliged to go in shoes without soles and tied on by cords carefully blacked. ’They had provisions for only a month, and half rations at that. The Piedmontese called them the “rag heroes.” Worse than their poverty was their inactivity. “ For 61 B UT Napoleon had much to occupy him besides his sep- 62 LIFE OF NAPOLEON three years they had fired off their guns in Italy only because war was going on, and not for any especial object—only to satisfy their consciences.” Discontent was such that counter-revolution gained ground daily. One company had even taken the name of “ Dauphin,” and royalist songs were heard in camp. Napoleon saw at a glance all these difficulties, and set himself to conquer them. With his generals he was reserved and severe. “It was necessary,” he explained afterward, “in order to command men so much older than myself.” His look and bearing quelled insubordination, restrained familiarity, even inspired fear. “ From his arrival,” says Marmont, “his attitude was that of a man born for power. It was plain to the least clairvoyant eyes that he knew how to compel obedience, and scarcely was he in authority before the line of a celebrated poet might have been applied to him: “Des egaux? dés longtemps Mahomet n’en a plus.’” General Decrés, who had known Napoleon well at Paris, hearing that he was going to pass through Toulon, where he was stationed, offered to present his comrades. “I run,” he says, “ full of eagerness and joy; the salon opens; I am about to spring forward, when the attitude, the look, the sound of his voice are sufficient to stop me. There was noth- ing rude about him, but it was enough. From that time I was never tempted to pass the'line which had been drawn for me.” * Lavalette says of his first interview with him: “ He looked weak, but his regard was so firm and so fixed that I felt myself turning pale when he spoke to me.” Augereau goes to see him at Albenga, full of contempt for this favorite of Barras who has never known an action, determined on in- subordination. Bonaparte comes out, little, thin, round- shouldered, and gives Augereau, a giant among the generals, THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 63 his orders. The big man backs out ina kind of terror. ‘‘ He frightened me,” he tells Masséna. “ His first glance crushed me.” He quelled insubordination in the ranks by quick, severe punishment, but it was not long that he had insubordination. The army asked nothing but to act, and immediately they saw that they were to move. He had reached his post on March 22d; nineteen days later operations began. The theatre of action was along that portion of the mari- time Alps which runs parallel with the sea. Bonaparte held the coast and the mountains; and north, in the foot-hills, stretched from the Tende to Genoa, were the Austrians and their Sardinian allies. If the French were fully ten thou- sand inferior in number, their position was the stronger, for the enemy was scattered in a hilly country where it was difficult to unite their divisions. As Bonaparte faced his enemy, it was with a youthful zest and anticipation which explains much of what follows. “The two armies are in motion,” he wrote Josephine, “ each trying to outwit the other. The more skilful will succeed. I am much pleased with Beaulieu. He manceuvres very well, and is superior to his predecessor. I shall beat him, I hope, out of his boots.” The first step in the campaign was a skilful stratagem. He spread rumors which made Beaulieu suspect that he in- tended marching on Genoa, and he threw out his lines in that direction. The Austrian took the feint as a genuine movement, and marched his left to the sea to cut off the French advance. But Bonaparte was not marching to Genoa, and, rapidly collecting his forces, he fell on the Aus- trian army at Montenotte on April 12th, and defeated it. The right and left of the allies were divided, and the centre broken. By a series of clever feints, Bonaparte prevented the va- 64 LIFE OF NAPOLEON rious divisions of the enemy. from reénforcing each other, and forced them separately to battle. At Millesimo, on the 14th, he defeated one section; on the same day, at Dego, another; the next morning, near Dego, another. The Aus- trians were now driven back, but their Sardinian allies were still at Ceva. To them Bonaparte now turned, and, driving them from their camp, defeated them at Mondovi on the 22d, It was phenomenal in Italy. In ten days the “rag heroes,” at whom they had been mocking for three years, had defeated two well-fed armies ten thousand stronger than themselves, and might at any moment march on Turin. The Sardinians sued for peace. The victory was as bewildering to the French as it was terrifying to the enemy, and Napoleon used it to stir his army to new conquests. “ Soldiers!” he said, “in fifteen days you have gained six victories, taken twenty-one stands of colors, fifty-five pieces of cannon, and several fortresses, and conquered the richest part of Piedmont. You have made fifteen hundred prisoners, and killed or wounded ten thousand men. “Hitherto. however, you have been fighting for barren rocks, made memorable by your valor, but useless to the nation. Your exploits now equal those of the conquering armies of Holland and the Rhine. You were utterly destitute, and have supplied all your wants. You have gained battles without cannons, passed rivers without bridges, performed forced marches without shoes, bivouacked without brandy, and often without bread. None but republican phalanxes—soldiers of liberty— could have borne what you have endured. For this you have the thanks of your country. “The two armies which lately attacked you in full confidence, now fly before you in consternation. . . . But, soldiers, it must not be concealed that you have done nothing, since there remains aught to do. Neither Turin nor Milan is ours. . . . The greatest difficulties are no doubt surmounted; but you have still battles to fight, towns to take, rivers to cross. Ae Not less clever in diplomacy than in battle, Bonaparte, on his own responsibility, concluded an armistice with the THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 65 Sardinians, which left him only the Austrians to fight, and at once set out to follow Beaulieu, who had fled beyond the Po. As adroitly as he had made Beaulieu believe, three weeks before, that he was going to march on Genoa, he now de- ceives him as to the point where he proposes to cross the Po, leading him to believe it is at Valenza. When certain that Beaulieu had his eye on that point, Bonaparte marched rapidly down the river, and crossed at Placentia. If an unforeseen delay had not occurred’ in the passage, he would have been on the Austrian rear. As it was, Beaulieu took alarm, and withdrew the body of his army, after a slight re- sistance to the French advance, across the Adda, leaving but twelve thousand men at Lodi. : Bonaparte was jubilant. ‘‘ We have crossed the Po,’ he wrote the directory. “The second campaign has com- menced. Beaulieu is disconcerted; he miscalculates, and continually falls into the snares I set for him. Perhaps he wishes to give battle, for he has both audacity and energy, but not genius. . . . Another victory, and we shall be masters of Italy.” Determined to leave no enemies behind him, Bonaparte now marched against the twelve thousand men at Lodi. The town, lying on the right bank of the Adda, was guarded by a small force of Austrians; but the mass of the enemy was on the left bank, at the end of a bridge some three hundred and fifty feet in length, and commanded by a score or more of cannon. Rushing into the town on May toth the French drove out the guarding force, and arrived at the bridge before the Austrians had time to destroy it. The French grenadiers pressed forward in a solid mass, but, when half way over, the cannon at the opposite end poured such a storm of shot at them that the column wavered and fell back. Several 66 LIFE OF NAPOLEON generals in the ranks, Bonaparte at their head, rushed to the front of the force. The presence of the officers was enough to inspire the soldiers, and they swept across the bridge with such impetuosity that the Austrian line on the opposite bank allowed its batteries to be taken, and in a few moments was in retreat. “Of all the actions in which the soldiers under my command have been engaged,” wrote Bonaparte to the Directory, “none has equalled the tremendous passage of the bridge at Lodi. If we have lost but few soldiers, it was merely owing to the promptitude of our attacks and the effect produced on the enemy by the formidable fire from our invincible army. Were I to name all the officers who distinguished themselves in this affair, I should be obliged to enumerate every carabimier of the advanced guard, and almost every officer belonging to the staff.” The Austrians now withdrew beyond the Mincio, and on the 15th of May the French entered Milan. The populace greeted their conquerors as liberators, and for several days the army rejoiced in comforts which it had not known for years. While it was being féted, Bonaparte was instituting the Lombard Republic, and trying to conciliate or outwit, as the case demanded, the nobles and ‘clergy outraged at the introduction of French ideas. It was not until the end of May that Lombardy was in a situation to permit Bonaparte to follow the Austrians. After Lodi, Beaulieu had led his army to the Mincio. As usual, his force was divided, the right being near Lake Garda, the left at Mantua, the centre about halfway between, at Valeggio. It was at this latter point that Bonaparte de- cided to attack them. Feigning to march on their right, he waited until his opponent had fallen into his trap, and then sprang on the weakened centre, broke it to pieces, and drove all but twelve thousand men, escaped to Mantua, into the Tyrol. In fifty days he had ewept all but a remnant of the THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 69 Austrians away from Italy. Two weeks later, having taken a strong position on the Adige, he began the siege of Mantua. The French were victorious, but their position was pre- carious. Austria was preparing a new army. Between the victors and France lay a number .of feeble Italian govern- ments whose friendship could not be depended upon. The populace of these states favored the French, for they brought promises of liberal government, of equality and fraternity. The nobles and clergy hated them for the same reason. It was evident that a victory of the Austrians would set all these petty princes on Bonaparte’s heels. The Papal States to the south were plotting. Naples was an ally of Austria. Venice was neutral, but she could not be trusted. The English were off the coast, and might, at any moment, make an alliance which would place a formidable enemy on the French rear. While waiting for the arrival of the new Austrian army, Bonaparte set himself to lessening these dangers. He con- cluded a peace with Naples. Two divisions of the army were sent south, one to Bologna, the other into Tuscany. The people received the French with such joy that Rome was glad to purchase peace. ° Leghorn was taken. The malcontents in Milan were silenced. By the time a fresh Austrian army of sixty thousand men, under a new general, Wurmser, was ready to fight, Italy had been effectually quieted. The Austrians advanced against the French in three col- umns, one to the west of Lake Garda, under Quasdanovich, one on each side of the Adige, east of the lake, under Wurm- ser. Their plan was to attack the French outposts on each side of the lake simultaneously, and then envelop the army. The first movements were successful. The French on each side of the lake were driven back. Bonaparte’s army was 68 LIFE OF NAPOLEON inferior to the one coming against him, but the skill with which he handled his forces and used the blunders of the enemy more than compensated for lack of numbers. Rais- ing the siege of Mantua, he concentrated his forces at the south of the lake in such a way as to prevent the reunion of the Austrians. Then, with unparalleled swiftness, he fell on the enemy piecemeal. Wherever he could engage a division he did so, providing his own force was superior to that of the Austrians at the moment of the battle. Thus, on July 31st, at Lonato, he defeated Quasdanovich, though not so decisively but that the Austrian collected his division and returned towards the same place, hoping to unite there with Wurmser, who had foolishly divided his divisions, sending one to Lonato and another to Castiglione, while he himself went off to Mantua to relieve the garrison there, Bonaparte engaged the forces at Lonato and at Castiglione on the same day (August 3d), defeating them both, and then turned his whole army against the body of Austrians under Wurmser, who, by his time, had returned from his relief expedition at Mantua. On August 5th, at Castig- lione, Wurmser was beaten, driven over the Mincio and into the Tyrol. In six days the campaign has been finished. “The Austrian army has vanished like a dream,” Bonaparte wrote home. It had vanished, true, but only for a day. Reénforce- ments were soon sent, and a new campaign started early in September. Leaving Davidovich in the Tyrol with twenty thousand men, Wurmser started down the Brenta with twenty-six thousand men, intending to fall on Bonaparte’s rear, cut him to pieces, and relieve Mantua. But Bonaparte had a plan of his own this time, and, without waiting to find out where Wurmser was going, he started up the Adige, intending to attack the Austrians in the Tyrol, and join the army of the Rhine, then on the upper Danube. As it THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 69 happened, Wurmser’s plan was a happy one for Bonaparte. The French found less than half the Austrian army opposing them, and, after they had beaten it, discovered that they were actually on the rear of the other half. Of course Bona- parte did not lose the opportunity. He sped down the Brenta behind Wurmser, overtook him at Bassano on the 8th of September, and of course defeated him. The Austrians fled in terrible demoralization. Wurmser succeeded in reaching Mantua, where he united with the garrison. The sturdy old Austrian had the courage, in spite of his losses, to come out of Mantua and meet Bonaparte on the 15th, but he was de- feated again, and obliged to take refuge in the fortress. If the Austrians had been beaten repeatedly, they had no idea of yielding, and, in fact, there was apparently every reason to continue the struggle. The French army was in a most desperate condition. Its number was reduced to barely forty thousand, and this number was poorly supplied, and many of them were ill. Though living in the richest of countries, the rapacity and dishonesty of the army con- tractors were such that food reached the men half spoiled and in insufficient quantities, while the clothing supplied was pure shoddy. Many officers were laid up by wounds or fatigue ; those who remained at their posts were discouraged, and threatening to resign. The Directory had tampered with Bonaparte’s armistices and treaties until Naples and Rome were ready to spring upon the French; and Venice, if not openly hostile, was irritating the army in many ways. Bonaparte, in face of these difficulties, was in genuine despair : “Everything is being spoiled in Italy,” he wrote the Directory. “The prestige of our forces is being lost. A policy which will give you friends among the princes as well as among ‘the people, is necessary. Diminish your enemies. The influence of Rome is beyond calculation. It was a great mistake to quarrel with that power. Had I been con- sulted I should have delayed negotiations as I did with Genoa and “BONAPARTE A LA RATAILLE D’ARCOLE, LE 27 BRUMAIRE, AN V.’’ THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 71 Venice. Whenever your general in Italy is not the centre of everything, you will:run great risks. This language is not that of ambition; I have only too many honors, and my health is so impaired that I think I shall be forced to demand a successor. I can no longer get on horse- back. My courage alone remains, and that is not sufficient in a position like this.” “It was in such a situation that Bonaparte saw the Aus- trian force outside of Mantua, increased to fifty thousand men, and a new commander-in-chief, Alvinzi, put at its head. The Austrians advanced in two divisions, one down the Adige, the other by the Brenta. The French division which met the enemy at Trent and Bassano were driven back. In spite of his best efforts, Bonaparte was obliged to retire with his main army to Verona. Things looked serious. Alvinzi was pressing close to Verona, and the army on the Adige was slowly driving back the French division sent to hold it in check. If Davidovich and Alvinzi united, Bonaparte was lost. “Perhaps we are on the point of losing Italy,” wrote Bonaparte to the Directory. “In a few days we shall make a last effort.” On November 14th this last effort was made. Alvinzi was close upon Verona, holding a position shut in by rivers and mountains on every side, and from which there was but one exit, a narrow pass at his rear. The French were in Verona. On the night of the 14th of November Bonaparte went quietly into camp. Early in the evening he gave orders to leave Verona, and took the road westward. It looked like a retreat. The French army believed it to be so, and began to say sorrowfully among themselves that Italy was lost. When far enough from Verona to escape the attention of the enemy, Bonaparte wheeled to the southeast. On the morning of the 15th he crossed the Adige, intending, if pos- sible, to reach the defile by which alone Alvinzi could escape from his position. The country into which his army 72 LIFE OF NAPOLEON marched was a morass crossed by two causeways. The points which it was necessary to take to command the defile | were the town of Arcola and a bridge over the rapid stream on which the town lay. The Austrians discovered the plan, and hastened out to dispute Arcola and the bridge. All day long the two armies fought desperately, Bonaparte and his generals putting themselves at the head of their columns and doing the work of common soldiers. But at night Arcola was not taken, and the French retired to the right bank of the Adige, only to return on the 16th to reéngage Alvinzi, who, fearful lest his retreat be cut off, had with- drawn his army from near Verona, and had taken a positiun at Arcola. For two days the French struggled with the Austrians, wrenching the victory from them before the close of the 17th, and sending them flying towards Bassano. Bonaparte and his army returned to Verona, but this time it was by the gate which the Austrians, three days before, were pointing out as the place where they should enter. It was a month and a half before the Austrians could col- lect a fifth army to send against the French. Bonaparte, tormented on every side by threatened uprisings in Italy; opposed by the Directory, who wanted to make peace;.and distressed by the condition of his army, worked incessantly to strengthen his relations, quiet his enemies, and restore his army. When the Austrians, some forty-five thousand strong, advanced in January, 1797, against him, he had a force of about thirty-five thousand men ready to meet them. Some ten thousand of his army were watching Wurmser and twenty thousand Austrians shut up at Mantua. Alvinzi had planned his attack skilfully. Advancing with twenty-eight thousand men by the Adige, he sent seventeen thousand under Provera to approach Verona from the east. The two divisions were to approach secretly, and to strike simultaneously. THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 73 At first Bonaparte was uncertain of the position of the main body of the enemy. Sending out feelers in every direc- tion, he became convinced that it must be that it approached Rivoli. Leaving a force at Verona to hold back Provera, he concentrated his army in a single night on the plateau of Rivoli, and on the morning of January 14th advanced to the attack. The struggle at Rivoli lasted two days. Noth- ing but Bonaparte’s masterly tactics won it, for the odds were greatly against him. His victory, however, was com- plete. Of the twenty-eight thousand Austrians brought to the field, less than half escaped. While his battle was waging, Bonaparte was also directing the fight with Provera, who was intent upon reaching Man- tua and attacking the French besiegers on the rear, while Wurmser left the city and engaged them in front. The at- tack had begun, but Bonaparte had foreseen the move, and sent a division to the relief of his men. This battle, known as La Favorita, destroyed Provera’s division of the Austrian army, and so discouraged Wurmser, whose army was ter- ribly reduced by sickness and starvation, that he surrendered’ on February 2d. The Austrians were driven utterly from Italy, but Bona- parte had no time to rest. The Papal States and the various aristocratic parties of southern Italy were threatening to rise against the French. The spirit of independence and revolt which the invaders were bringing into the country could not but weaken clerical and monarchical institutions. An active enemy to the south would have been a serious hindrance to Napoleon, and he marched into the Papal States. A fort- night was sufficient to silence the threats of his enemies, and on February 19, 1797, he signed with the Pope the treaty — of Tolentino. The peace was no sooner made than he started again against the Austrians. When Mantua fell, and Austria saw herself driven from 74 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Italy, she had called her ablest general, the Archduke Charles, from the Rhine, and given him an army of over one hundred thousand men to lead against Bonaparte. The French had been reénforced to some seventy thousand, and though twenty thousand were necessary to keep Italy quiet, Bona- parte had a fine army, and he led it confidently to meet the main body of the enemy, which had been sent south to pro- tect Trieste. Early in March he crossed the Tagliamento, and in a series of contests, in which he was uniformly suc- cessful, he drove his opponent back, step by step, until Vienna itself was in sight, and in April an armistice was signed. In May the French took possession of Venice, which had refused a French alliance, and which was playing a perfidious part, in Bonaparte’s judgment, and a republic -n the French model was established. Italy and Austria, worn out and discouraged by this “ war of principle,” as Napoleon called it, at last compromised, and on October 17th, one year, seven months, and seven days after he left Paris, Napoleon signed the treaty of Campo Formio. By this treaty France gained the frontier of the Rhine and the Low Countries to the mouth of the Scheldt. Austria was given Venice, and a republic called the Cisalpine was formed from Reggio, Modena, Lombardy, and a part of the States of the Pope. The military genius that this twenty-seven-year-old com- mander had shown in the campaign in Italy bewildered his enemies and thrilled his friends. “Things go on very badly,” said an Austrian veteran taken at Lodi. “ No one seems to know what he is about. The French general is a young blockhead who knows noth- ing of the regular rules of war. Sometimes he is on our right, at others on our left; now in front, and presently in our rear. This mode of warfare is contrary to all system, and utterly insufferable.” e THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 75 It is certain that if Napoleon’s opponents never knew what he was going to do, if his generals themselves were fre- quently uncertain, it being his practice to hold his peace about his plans, he himself had definite rules of warfare. The most important of these were: “ Attacks should not be scattered, but should be concen- trated.” “ Always be superior to the enemy at the point of at- tack.” “Time is everything.” To these formulated rules he joined marvelous fertility in stratagem. The feint by which, at the beginning of the campaign, he had enticed Beaulieu to march on Genoa, and that by which, a few days later, he had induced him to place his army near Valenza, were masterpieces in their way. His quick-wittedness in emergency frequently saved him from disaster. Thus, on August 4th, in the midst of the excitement, of the contest, Bonaparte went to Lonato to see what troops could be drawn from there. On entering he was greatly surprised to receive an Austrian parlementaire, whp called on the commandant of Lonato to surrender, be- cause the French were surrounded. Bonaparte saw at once that the Austrians could be nothing but a division which had been cut’ off and was seeking escape; but he was embarrassed, for there were only twelve hundred men at Lonato. Sending for the man, he had his eyes unbandaged, and told him that if his commander had the presumption to capture the gen- eral-in-chief of the army of Italy he might advance; that the Austrian division ought to have known that he was at Lonato with his whole army; and he added that if they did not lay down their arms in eight minutes he would not spare a man. This audacity saved Bonaparte, and won him four thousand prisoners with guns and cavalry. “3 Bey Aq ydeiszoyiq & “ ” woi1g 76 THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 77 His fertility in stratagem, his rapidity of.action, his au- dacity in attack, bewildered and demoralized the enemy, but it raised the enthusiasm of his imaginative Southern troops to the highest pitch. He insisted in this campaign on one other rule: “ Unity of command is necessary to assure success.” After his de- feat of the Piedmontese, the Directory ordered him, May 7, 1796, to divide his command with Kellermann. Napoleon answered : “T believe it most impolitic to divide the army of Italy in two parts. It is quite as much against the interests of the republic to place two different generals over it. “A single general is not only necessary, but also it is essential that nothing trouble him in his march and operations. I have conducted this campaign without consulting any one. I should have done nothing of value if I had been obliged to reconcile my plans with those of another. I have gained advantage over superior forces and when stripped of everything myself, because persuaded that your confidence was in me. My action has been as prompt as my thought. “Tf you impose hindrances of all sorts upon me, if I must refer every step to government commissioners, if they have the right to change my movements, of taking from me or of sending me troops, expect no more of any value. If you enfeeble your means by dividing your forces, if you break the unity of military thought in Italy, I tell you sorrow- fully you will lose the happiest opportunity of imposing laws on Italy. “In the condition of the affairs of the republic in Italy, it is indis- pensable that you have a general that has your entire confidence. If it is not I, I am sorry for it, but I shall redouble my zeal to merit your esteem in the post you confide to me. Each one has his own way of cafrying on war. General Kellermann has more experience and will do it better than I, but both together will do it very badly. “T can only render the services essential to the country when invested entirely and absolutely with your confidence.” He remained in charge, and throughout the rest of the campaign continued to act more and more independently of the Directory, even dictating terms of peace to please him- self. It was in this Italian campaign that the almost super- stitious adoration which Napoleon’s soldiers and most of his 78 LIFE OF NAPOLEON generals felt for him began. Brilliant generalship was not the only reason for this. It was due largely to his personal courage, which they had discovered at Lodi. A charge had been ordered across a wooden bridge swept by thirty pieces of cannon, and beyond was the Austrian army. The men hesitated, Napoleon sprang to their head and led them into the thickest of the fire. From that day he was known among them as the “ Little Corporal.” He had won them by the quality which appeals most deeply to a soldier in the ranks— contempt of death. Such was their devotion to him that they gladly exposed their lives if they saw him in danger. There were several such cases in the battle of Arcola. The first day, when Bonaparte was exposing himself in an ad- vance, his aide-de-camp, Colonel Muiron, saw that he was in imminent danger. Throwing himself before Bonaparte, the colonel covered him with his body, receiving a wound which was destined for the general. The brave fellow’s blood spurted into Bonaparte’s face. He literally gave his life to save his commander’s. The same day, in a final effort to take Arcola, Bonaparte seized a flag, rushed on the bridge, and planted it there. His column reached the middle of the bridge, but there it was broken by the enemy’s flank- ing fire. The grenadiers at the head, finding themselves deserted by the rear, were compelled to retreat; but, critical as their position was, they refused to abandon their general. They seized him by his arms, by his clothes, and dragged him with them through shot and smoke. When one fell out wounded, another pressed to his place. Precipitated into the morass, Bonaparte sank. The enemy were surrounding him when the grenadiers perceived his danger. A cry was raised, ““ Forward, soldiers, to save the General!” and im- mediately they fell upon the Austrians with such fury that they drove them off, dragged out their hero, and bore him to a safe place. THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 79 His addresses never failed to stir them to action and en- thusiasm. They were oratorical, prophetic, and abounded in phrases which the soldiers never forgot. Such was his address at Milan: “Soldiers! you have precipitated yourselves like a torrent from the summit of the Apennines; you have driven back and dispersed all that opposed your march. Piedmont, liberated from Austrian tyranny, has yielded to her natural sentiments of peace and amity towards France. Milan is yours, and the Republican flag floats throughout Lombardy, while the Dukes of Modena and Parma owe their political existence solely to your generosity. The army which so haughtily menaced you, finds no barrier to secure it from your courage. The Po, the Ticino, and the Adda have been unable to arrest your courage for a single day,} Those boasted ramparts of Italy proved insufficient. You have sur mounted them as rapidly as you cleared the Apennines. So much suc- cess has diffused joy through the bosom of your country. Yes, soldiers, you have done well; but is there nothing more for you to accomplish? Shall it be said of us that we knew how to conquer, but knew not how to profit by victory? Shall posterity reproach us with having found a Capua in Lombardy? But I see you rush to arms; unmanly repose wearies you, and the days lost to glory are lost to happiness. “Let us set forward. We have still forced marches to perform, enemies to conquer, laurels to gather. and injuries to avenge. Let those tremble who have whetted the poniards of civil war in France; who have, like dastards, assassinated our ministers, and burned our ships in Toulon. The hour of vengeance is arrived, but let the people be tranquil. We are the friends of all nations, particularly the descend- ants of the Brutuses, the Scipios, and those illustrious persons we have chosen for our models. To restore the Capitol, replace with honor the statues of the heroes who rendered it renowned, and rouse the Roman people, become torpid by so many ages of slavery—shall, will, be the fruit of your victories. You will then return to your homes, and your fellow-citizens when pointing to you will say, ‘He was of the army of Italy?” Such was his address in March, before the final campaign against the Austrians: “You have been victorious in fourteen pitched battles and sixty-six combats: you have taken one hundred thousand prisoners, five hundred pieces of large cannon and two thousand pieces of smaller. four equip- ages for bridge pontoons. The country has nourished you, paid you BONAPARTE. Engraved by Bartolozzi, R.A., an Italian engraver, resident of England, after the portrait of Appiani. 8c THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 81 during your campaign, and you have beside that sent thirty -nillions from the public treasury to Paris. You have enriched the Museum of Paris with three hundred chefs-d’wuvre of ancient and modern Italy, which it has taken thirty ages to produce. You have conquered the most beautiful country of Europe. The French colors float for the first time upon the borders of the Adriatic. The kings of Sardinia and Naples, the Pope, the Duke of Parma have become allies. You have chased the English from Leghorn, Genoa, and Corsica. You have yet to march against the Emperor of Austria.” His approval was their greatest joy. Let him speak a word of praise to a regiment, and they embroidered it on their banners. “I was at ease, the Thirty-second was there,’ was on the flag of that regiment. Over the Fifty- seventh floated a name Napoleon had called them by, ‘‘ The terrible Fifty-seventh.” His displeasure was a greater spur than his approval. He said to a corps which had retreated in disorder: “‘ Soldiers, you have displeased me. You have shown neither courage nor constancy, but have yielded positions where a handful of men might have defied an army. You are no longer French soldiers. Let it be written on their colors, ‘ They no longer form part of the Army of Italy.’’”’ A veteran pleaded that they be placed in the van, and during the rest of the cam- paign no regiment was more distinguished. The effect of his genius was as great on his generals as on his troops. They were dazzled by his stratagems and man- ceuvres, inspired by his imagination. “ There was so much of the future in him,” is Marmont’s expressive explanation. They could believe anything of him. A remarkable set of men they were to have as followers and friends—Augereau, Masséna, Berthier, Marmont, Junot. The people and the government in Paris had begun to believe in him, as did the Army of Italy. He not only sent flags and reports of victory; he sent money and works of art. Impoverished as the Directory was, the sums which 82 LIFE OF NAPOLEON came from Italy were a reason for not interfering with the high hand the young general carried in his campaigns and treaties. Never before had France received such letters from a general. Now he announces that he has sent “ twenty first ce masters, from Correggio to Michael Angelo;” now, “a dozen millions of money;” now, two or three millions in jewels and diamonds to be sold in Paris. In return he asks only for men and officers “ who have fire and a firm reso-_ lution not to make learned retreats.” The entry into Paris of the first art acquisitions made a profound impression on the people: “The procession of enormous cars, drawn by richly caparisoned horses, was divided: into four sections.- First came trunks filled with books, manuscripts, . . . including the antiques of Josephus, on papyrus, with works in the handwriting of Galileo. . . Then fol- lowed collections of mineral products. . . . For the occasion were added wagons laden with iron cages containing lions, tigers, panthers, over which waved enormous palm branches and all kinds of exotic shrubs. Afterwards rolled along chariots bearing pictures carefully packed, but with the names of the most important inscribed in large letters on the outside, as, The Transfiguration, by Raphael; The Christ, by Titian. The number was great, the value greater. When these trophies had passed, amid the applause of an excited crowd, a heavy rumbling announced the approach of massive carts bearing statues and marble groups: the Apollo Belvidere; the Nine Muses; the Laocoon. The Venus de Medici was eventually added, decked with bou- quets, crowns of flowers, flags taken from the enemy, and French, Italian, and Greek inscriptions. Detachments of cavalry and infantry, colors flying, drums beating, music playing, marched at intervals; the. members of the newly established Institute fell into line; artists and savants; and the singers of the theatres made the air ring with na- tional hymns. This procession marched through all Paris, and at the Champ de Mars defiled before the five members of the Directory, sur- rounded by their subordinate officers.” The practice of sending home works of art, begun in the Italian campaign, Napoleon continued throughout his mili- tary career, and the art of France owes much’ to the educa- tion thus given the artists of the first part of this century. THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 83 His agents ransacked Italy, Spain, Germany, and Flan- ders for chefs-d’oewvre. When entering a country one of the first things he did was to collect information about its chief art objects, in order to demand them in case of victory, ‘for it was by treaty that they were usually obtained. Among the works of art which Napoleon sent to Paris were twenty-five Raphaels, twenty-three Titians, fifty-three Rubenses, thirty-three Van Dykes, thirty-one Rembrandts. In Italy rose Napoleon’s “ star,” that mysterious guide which he followed from Lodi to Waterloo. Here was born ' that faith in him and his future, that belief that he “marched under the protection of the goddess of fortune and of war,” that confidence that he was endowed with a “good genius.” i He called Lodi the birthplace of his faith. “ Ven- démiaire and even Montenotte did not make me believe my- self a superior man. It was only after Lodi that it came into my head that I could become a decisive actor on our political field. Then was born the first spark of high ambi- tion.” Trained in a religion full of mysticism, taught to believe in signs, guided by a “ star,” there is a tinge of superstition throughout his active, practical, hardworking life. Mar- mont tells that one day while in Italy the glass over the por- trait of his wife, which he always wore, was broken. “He turned frightfully pale, and the impression upon him was most sorrowful. ‘Marmont,’ he said, ‘my wife is very ill or she is unfaithful.’” There are many similar | anecdotes to show his dependence upon and confidence in omens. In a campaign of such achievements as that in Italy there ‘seems to be no time for love, and yet love was never more imperative, more absorbing, in Napoleon’s life than during this period. «“ NAPOLEONE BUONAPARTE.” “Engraved by Henry Richter from the celebrated bust by Ceracchi, lately brought from Paris and now in his possession. Published June 1, 1801, by H. Richter, No. 26 Newman Street, Oxford Street.” This bust was made in the Italian campaign by Ceracchi, a Corsican working in Rome. Ceracchi left Rome in 1799 to escape punishment for taking part in an in- surrection in the city, and went to Paris, where he hoped to receive aid from the First Consul. He made the busts of several generals—Derthier, Massena, and Bernadotte—but as orders did not multiply, and Na- poleon did nothing for him, he became incensed against him, and took part in a plot to assassinate the First Consul at the opera, the 18th Brumaire, 1801. Arrested on his way to the Joge in the opera, he was executed soon after. 84 THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 85 “Oh, my adorable wife,’ he wrote Josephine in April, “I do not know what fate awaits me, but if it keeps me longer from you, I shall not be able to endure it; my courage will not hold out to that point. There was a time when I was proud of my courage; and when I thought of the harm that men might do me, of the lot that my destiny might reserve for me, I Icoked at the most terrible misfortunes without a quiver, with no surprise. But now, the thought that my Josephine may be in trouble, that she may be ill, and, above all, the cruel, fatal thought that she may love me less, inflicts torture in my soul, stops the beating of my heart, makes me sad and dejected, robs me of even the courage of fury and despair. I often used to say, ‘Man can do no harm to one who is willing to die;’ but now, to die without being loved by you, to die without this certainty, is the torture of hell; it is the vivid and crushing image of total annihilation. It seems to me as if I were choking. My only companion, you who have been chosen by fate to make with me the painful journey of life, the day when I shall no longer possess your heart will be that when for me the world shall have lost all warmth and all its vegetation. I will stop. my sweet pet; my soul is sad. I am very tired, my mind is worn out, I am sick of men. I have good reason for hating them. They separate me from my love.” Josephine was indifferent to this strong passion. “ How queer Bonaparte is!” she said coldly at the evidences of his affection which he poured upon her; and when, after a few weeks separation, he began to implore her to join him she hesitated, made excuses, tried in every possible way to evade his wish. It was not strange that a woman of her indolent nature, loving flattery, having no passion but for amuse- ment, reckless expenditure, and her own ease, should prefer life in Paris. There she shared with Madame Tallien the adoration which the Parisian world is always bestowing on some fair woman. At opera and ball she was the centre of attraction; even in the street the people knew her. Notre Dame des Victoires was the name they gave her. In desperation at her indifference, Napoleon finally wrote her, in June, from Tortona: “My life is a perpetual nightmare. A black presentiment makes breathing difficult. I am no longer alive; I have lost more than life, 86 LIFE OF NAPOLEON more than happiness, more than peace; I am almost without hope. I am sending you a courier. He will stay only four hours in Paris, and then will bring me your answer. Write to me ten pages; that is the only thing that can console me in the least. You are ill; you love me; I have distressed you; you are with child; and I do not see you. I have treated you so ill that I do not know how to set myself right in your eyes. I have been blaming you for staying in Paris, and you have been ill there. Forgive me, my dear; the love with which you have filled me has robbed me of my reason, and I shall never re- cover it. It is a malady from which there is no recovery. My fore- bodings are so gloomy that all I ask is to see you, to hold you in my arms for two hours, and that we may die together. Who is taking care of you? I suppose that you have sent for Hortense; I love the dear child a thousand times better since I think that. she may console you.a little. As for me, I am without consolation, rest, and hope until I see again the messenger whom I am sending to you, and until you explain to me in a long letter just what is the matter with you, and how serious it is. If there were any danger, I warn you that I should start at once for Paris. . . . You! you!—and the rest of the world will not exist for me any more than if it had been annihilated. I care for honor be- cause you care for it; for victory, because it brings you pleasure; other- wise, I should abandon everything to throw myself at your feet.” After this letter Josephine consented to go to Italy, but she left Paris weeping as if going to her execution. Once at Milan, where she held almost a court, she recovered her gayety, and the two were very happy for a time- But it - did not last. Napoleon, obliged to be on the march, would implore Josephine to come to him here and there, and once she narrowly escaped with her life when trying to get away from the army. Wherever she was installed she had a circle of adorers about her, and as a result she neglected writing to her hus- band. Reproaches and entreaties filled his letters. He begged her for only a line, and he implored her that she be less cold. “Your letters are as cold as fifty years of age; one would think they had been written after we had been married fifteen years. They are full of the friendliness and feelings of life’s winter, . . . What more can you do to distress me? Stop loving me? That you have al- THE FIRST ITALIAN CAMPAIGN 87 ready done. Hate me? Well, I wish you- would; everything degrades me except hatred; but indifference, with a calm pulse, fixed eyes, monotonous walk! . . . A thousand kisses, tender, like my heart.” It was not merely indolence and indifference that caused Josephine’s neglect. It was coquetry frequently, and Na- poleon, informed by his couriers as to whom she received at Milan or Genoa, and of the pleasures she enjoyed, was jealous with all the force of his nature. More than one young officer who dared pay homage to Josephine in this cam- paign was banished “ by order of the commander-in-chief.” Reaching Milan once, unexpectedly, he found her gone. His disappointment was bitter. “T reached Milan, rushed to your rooms, having thrown up every- thing to see you, to press you to my heart—you were not there; you are traveling about from one town to another, amusing yourself with balls. . . . My unhappiness is inconceivable. . . . Don’t put yourself out; pursue your pleasure; happiness is made for you.” It was between such extremes of triumphant love and black despair that Napoleon lived throughout the Italian campaign. BONAPARTE AT MALMAISON, The title on the engraving reads: ‘ Bonaparte, déd Engraved in 1803 by Godefroy, after Tsabey. 88 ié 4 Madame Bonaparte.” CHAPTER VI. NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS—THE EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN —THE I8th BRUMAIRE N December, 1797, he returned to Paris. His whole | family were collected there, forming a ‘“‘ Bonaparte colony,” as the Parisians called it. There were Joseph and his wife; Lucien, now married to Christine Boyer, his old landlord’s daughter, a marriage Napoleon never for- gave; Eliza, now Madame Bacciochi; Pauline, now Madame Leclerc. Madame Letitia was in the city, with Caroline; Louis and Jerome were still in school. Josephine had her daughter Hortense, a girl of thirteen, with her. Her son Eugéne, though but fifteen years old, was away on a mission for Napoleon, who, in spite of the boy’s youth, had already taken him into his confidence. According to Napoleon’s ex- press desire, all the family lived in great simplicity. The return to Paris of the commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy was the signal for a popular ovation. The Directory gave him every honor, changing the name of the street in which he lived to rue de la Victoire, and making him a member of the Institute; but, conscious of its feeble- ness, and inspired by that suspicion which since the Revolu- tion began had caused the ruin of so many men, it planned to get rid of him. Of the coalition against France, formed in 1793,one mem- ber alone remained in arms—England. Napoleon was to be sent against her. An invasion of the island was first dis- cussed, and he made an examination of the north coast. 89 go LIFE OF NAPOLEON His report was adverse, and he substituted a plan for the ix. vasion of Egypt—an old idea in the French government. The Directory gladly accepted the change, and Napoleon was made commander-in-chief of the Army of Egypt. On the 4th of May he left Paris for Toulon. To Napoleon this expedition was a merciful escape. He once said to Madame Rémusat: “In Paris, and Paris is France, they never can take the smallest in- terest in things, if they do not take it in persons. . . . The great difficulty of the Directory was that no one cared about them, and that people began to care too much about me. This was why I conceived the happy idea of going to Egypt.” He was under the influence, too, of his imagination; the Orient had always tempted him. It is certain that he went away with gigantic projects—nothing less than to conquer the whole of the East, and to become its ruler and lawgiver. “T dreamed of all sorts of things, and I saw a way of carrying all my projects into practical execution. I would create a new religion. I saw myself in Asia, upon an elephant, wearing a turban, and hold- ing in my hand a new Koran which I had myself composed. I would have united in my enterprise the experiences of two hemispheres, ex- ploring for my benefit and instruction all history, attacking the power of England in the Indies, and renewing, by their conquest, my rela- tions with old Europe. The time I passed in Egypt was the most delightful period of my life, for it was the most ideal.” His friends, watching his irritation during the days be- fore the campaign had been decided upon, said: “ A free flight in space is what such wings demand. He will die here. He must go.” He himself said: “ Paris weighs on me like a leaden mantle.” Napoleon sailed from France on May 19, 1798; on June gth he reached Malta, and won for France “ the strongest place in Europe.” July 2d he entered Alexandria. On July 23d he entered Cairo, after the famous battle of the Pyramids. NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS gt The French fleet had remained in Aboukir Bay after land- ing the army, and on August Ist. was attacked by Nelson. Napoleon had not realized, before this battle, the power of the English on the sea. He knew nothing of Nelson’s genius. The destruction of his fleet, and the consciousness that he and his army were prisoners in the Orient, opened his eyes to the greatest weakness of France. The winter was spent in reorganizing the government of Egypt and in scientific work. Over one hundred scientists had been added to the Army of Egypt, including some of the most eminent men of the day: Monge, Geoffroy-St.-Hi- laire, Berthollet, Fourier, and Denon. From their arrival every opportunity was given them to carry on their work. To stimulate them, Napoleon founded the Institute of Egypt, in which membership was granted as a reward for serv- ices. These scientists went out in every direction, pushing their investigations up the Nile as far as Philoe, tracing the bed of the old canal from Suez to the Nile, unearthing ancient monuments, making collections of the flora and fauna, ex- amining in detail the arts and industries of the people. Every- thing, from the inscription on the Rosetta Stone to the in- cubation of chickens, received their attention. On the re- turn of the expedition, their researches were published in a magnificent work called “ Description de l’Egypte.” The information gathered by the French at this time gave a great impetus to the study of Egyptology, and their in- vestigations on the old Suez canal led directly to the modern work. The peaceful work of science and law-giving which Na- poleon was conducting in Egypt was interrupted by the news that the Porte had declared war against France, and that two Turkish armies were on their way to Egypt. In March he set off to Syria to meet the first. NAPOLEON AT THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS, JULY 21, 1798. Engraved by Vallot in 1838, after painting by Gros (1810). The moment chosen by the artist is that when Napoleon addressed to his soldiers that short and famous harangue, ‘‘ Soldiers, from the summit of these Pyramids forty centuries look down upon you.’ In the General’s escort are Murat, his head bare and his sword clasped tightly; and after him, in order, Duroc, Sulkowski, Berthier, Junot, and Eugéne de Beauharnais, then sub-lieutenant, all on horse- back. On the right are Rampon, Desaix, Bertrand, and Lasalle. This picture was ordered for the Tuileries, and was exhibited first in 1810. Napoleon gave it to one of his generals, and it did not reappear in Paris until 1832. It is now in the gallery at Versailles. Gros regarded this picture as his hest work, and himself chose Vallot to engrave it. Q2 NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 93 This Syrian expedition was a failure, ending in a retreat made horrible not only by the enemy in the rear, but by pestilence and heat. . The disaster was a terrible disillusion for Napoleon. It ended his dream of an Oriental realm for himself, of a kingdom embracing the whole Mediterranean for France. “T missed my fortune at St. Jean d’Acre,” he told his brother Lucien afterward; and again, “I think my imagination died at St. Jean d’Acre.”” The words are those of the man whose discouragement at a failure was as profound as his hope at success was high. As Napoleon entered Egypt from Syria, he learned that the second Turkish army was near the Bay of Aboukir. He turned against it and defeated it completely. In the ex- change of prisoners made after the battle, a bundle of French papers fell into his hands. It was the first news he had had for ten months from France, and sad news it was: Italy lost, an invasion of Austrians and Russians threatening, the Directory discredited and tottering. If the Oriental empire of his imagination had fallen, might it not be that in Europe a kingdom awaited him? He decided to leave Egypt at once, and with the greatest secrecy prepared for his departure. The army was turned over to Kléber, and with four small vessels he sailed for France on the night of August 22, 1799. On October 16th he was in Paris. For a long time nothing had been heard of Napoleon in France. The people said he had been exiled by the jealous Directory. His disappearance into the Orient had all the mystery and fascination of an Eastern tale. His sudden reappearance had something of the heroic in it. He came like a god from Olympus,. unheralded, but at the critical moment. The joy of the people, who at that day certainly preferred 94 LIFE OF NAPOLEON a hero to suffrage, was spontaneous and sincere. His journey from the coast to Paris was a triumphal march, Le retour du héros was the word in everybody’s mouth. On every side the people cried: “ You alone can save the coun- try. It is perishing without you. Take the reins of govern- ment.” At Paris he found the government waiting to be over- thrown. “A brain and a sword” was all that was needed to carry out a coup d’état organized while he was still in Africa. Everybody recognized him as the man for the hour. A large part of the military force in Paris was devoted to him. His two brothers, Lucien and Joseph, were in posi- tions of influence, the former president of the Five Hundred, as one of the two chambers was called. All that was most distinguished in the political, military, legal, and artistic circles of Paris rallied to him. Among the men who sup- ported him were Talleyrand, Sieyés, Chénier, Roederer, Monge, Cambacérés, Moreau, Berthier, Murat. On the 18th Brumaire (the 9th of November), 1799, the plot culminated, and Napoleon was recognized as the tem- porary Dictator of France. The private sorrow to which Napoleon returned, was as great as the public glory. During the campaign in Egypt he had learned beyond a doubt that Josephine’s coquetry had become open. folly, and that a young officer, Hippolyte Charles, whom he had dismissed from the Army of Italy two years before, was installed at Malmaison. The liaison was so scandalous that Gohier, the president of the Direc- tory, advised Josephine to get a divorce from Napoleon and marry Charles. These rumors reached Egypt, and Napoleon, in despair, even talked them over with Eugéne de Beauharnais. The boy defended his mother, and for a time succeeded in quiet- ing Napoleon’s resentment. At last, however, he learned NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 95 in a talk with Junot that the gossip was true. He lost all control of himself, and declared he would have a divorce. The idea was abandoned, but the love and reverence he had given Josephine were dead. From that time she had no empire over his heart, no power to inspire him to action or to enthusiasm. When he landed in France from Egypt, Josephine, fore- seeing a storm, started out to meet him at Lyons. Unfor- tunately she took one road and Napoleon another, and when he reached Paris at six o’clock in the morning he found no one at home. When Josephine arrived Napoleon refused to see her, and it was three days before he relented. Then his forgiveness was due to the intercession of Hortense and Eugéne, to both of whom he was warmly attached. But if he consented to pardon, he could never give again the passionate affection which he once had felt for her. He ceased to be a lover, and became a commonplace, tolerant, indulgent, bourgeois husband, upon whom his wife, in matters of importance, had no influence. Josephine was hereafter the suppliant, but she never regained the noble kingdom she had despised. Napoleon’s domestic sorrow weakened in no way his activity and vigor in public affairs. He realized that, if he would keep his place in the hearts and confidence of the people, he must do something to show his strength, and peace ‘was the gift he proposed to make to the nation. When he returned he found a civil war raging in La Vendée. Before February he had ended it. All over France brigandage had made life and property uncertain. It was stopped by his new régime. Two foreign enemies only remained at war with France —Austria and England. He offered them peace. It was refused. Nothing remained but to compel it. The Aus- trians were first engaged. They had two armies in the field; “INSTALLATION OF THE COUNCIL OF STATE AT THE PALACE OF THE PETIT *UXEMBOURG, DECEMBER 29, 1799.”’ By Auguste Conder. The Councillors of State having assembled in the hall which had been arranged for the occasion, the First Consul opened the séance ana neard the oath taken by the sectional presidents—Boulay de la Meurthe (legislation), Brune (war), Defermont (finances), Ganteaume (marine), Roederer (interior). The first Consul drew up and signed two proclamations, to the Fieneck people and to the army. The Second Consul, Cambacérés, and the Third Consul, Lebrun, were present at the meeting. Loeré. secrétaire-général du Conseil d'Etat, conducted the procés-verbal. This ticture is at Versailles. 96 NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 9? one on the Rhine, against which Moreau was sent, the other in Italy—now lost to France—besieging the French shut up in Genoa. Moreau conducted the campaign in the Rhine countries with skill, fighting two successful battles, and driving his opponent from Ulm. Napoleon decided that he would himself carry on the Italian campaign, but of that he said nothing in Paris. His army was quietly brought together as a reserve force; then suddenly, on May 6, 1800, he left Paris for Geneva. Im- mediately his plan became evident. It was nothing else than to cross the Alps and fall upon the rear of the Austrians, then besieging Genoa. Such an undertaking was a veritable coup de thédtre. Its accomplishment was not less brilliant than its conception. Three principal passes lead from Switzerland into Italy: Mont Cenis, the Great Saint Bernard, and the Mount Saint Gothard. The last was already held by the Austrians. The first is the westernmost, and here Napoleon directed the attention of General Melas, the Austrian commander. The central, or Mount Saint Bernard, Pass was left almost de- fenceless, and here the French army was led across, a passage ‘surrounded by enormous difficulties, particularly for the artillery, which had to be taken to pieces and carried or dragged by the men. Save the delay which the enemy caused the French at Fort Bard, where five hundred men stopped the entire army, Napoleon met with no serious resistance in entering Italy. Indeed, the Austrians treated the force with contempt, de- claring that it was not the First Consul who led it, but an adventurer, and that the army was not made up of French, but of refugee Italians. This rumor was soon known to be false. On June 2d Na- poleon entered Milan. It was evident that a conflict was im- 98 ; LIFE OF NAPOLEON minent, and to prepare his soldiers Bonaparte addressed them: “ Soldiers, one of our departments was in the power of the enemy; consternation was in the south of France; the greatest part of the Ligurian territory, the most faithful friends of the Republic, had been invaded. The Cisalpine Republic had again become the grotesque play- thing of the feudal régime. Soldiers, you march,—and already the French territory is delivered! Joy and hope have succeeded in your country to consternation and fear. “You give back liberty and independence to the people of Genoa. You have delivered them from their eternal enemies. You are in the capital of the Cisalpine. The enemy, terrified, no longer hopes for anything, except to regain its frontiers. You have taken possession of its hospitals, its magazines, its resources. “The first act of the campaign is terminated. Every day you hear millions of men thanking you for your deeds. “But shall it be said that French territory has been violated with impunity? Shall we allow an army which has carried fear into our families to return to its firesides? Will you run with your arms? Very well, march to the battle; forbid their retreat; tear from them the laurels of which they have taken possession; and so teach the world that the curse of destiny is on the rash who dare insult the territory of the Great People. The result of all our efforts will be spotless glory, solid peace.” Melas, the Austrian commander, had lost much time; but finally convinced that it was really Bonaparte who had in- vaded Italy, and that he had actually reached Milan, he ad- vanced into the plain of Marengo. He had with him an army of from fifty to sixty thousand men well supplied with artillery. Bonaparte, ignorant that so large a force was at Marengo, advanced into the plain with only a portion of his army. On June 14th Melas attacked him. Before noon the French saw that they had to do with the entire Austrian army. For hours the battle was waged furiously, but with constant loss on the side of the French. In spite of the most intrepid fighting the army gave way. “ At four o’clock in the after- noon,” says a soldier who was present, “ there remained in NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 99 a radius of two leagues not over six thousand infantry, a thousand horse, and six pieces of cannon. A third of our army was not in condition for battle. The lack of carriages to transport the sick made another third necessary for this painful task. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, had forced a great number to withdraw. The sharp shooters for the most part had lost the direction of their regiments. “He who in these frightful circumstances would have said, ‘In two hours we shall have gained the battle, made ten thousand prisoners, taken several generals, fifteen flags, forty cannons; the enemy shall have delivered to us eleven fortified places and all the territory of beautiful Italy; they will soon defile shamefaced before our ranks; an armistice will suspend the plague of war and bring back peace into our country,’—he, I say, who would have said that, would have seemed to insult our desperate situation.” The battle was won finally by the French through the fortunate arrival of Desaix with reénforcemenis and the imperturbable courage of the commander-in-chief. Bona- parte’s coolness was the marvel of those who surrounded him. *“ At the moment when the dead and the dying covered the earth, the Consul was constantly braving death. He gave his orders with his accustomed coolness, and saw the storm approach without seeming to fear it. Those who saw him, forgetting the danger that menaced them, said: ‘ What if he should be killed? Why does he not go back?’ It is said that General Berthier begged him to do so. “Once General Berthier came to him to tell him that the army was giving way and that the retreat had commenced. Bonaparte said to him: ‘General, you do not tell me that with sufficient coolness.’ This greatness of soul, this firm- ness, did not leave him in the greatest dangers. When the Fifty-ninth Brigade reached the battle-field the action NAPOLEON THE GREAT CROSSING MOUNT ST. BERNARD, MAY, 1800. Engraved by Antonio Gilbert in 1809, under the direction of Longhi, after portrait painted by David in 1805. Dedicated to the Prince Eugéne eet of France, Viceroy of Italy. It was soon after his return from Marengo te Napoleon expressed a wish to be painted by David. The artist had long_de- sired this work, and seized the opportunity eagerly. He asked the First Con: sul when he would pose for him. “Pose!” said Bonaparte. posed for their portraits? ” “But I paint you for like to have it like you. “Like me! It is ‘not the “Do you suppose the great men of antiquity your time, for men who have seen you. They would perfection of the features, a pimple on the nose, which makes resemblance. [t is the character of the face that should be repre- sented. No one cares whether the portraits of great men look like them or not. It is enough that their genius shines from the picture.” A an “T have never considered it in that way. But you are right, Citizen Consul. You need not pose: [ will paint you without that.” David went to breakfast daily after this with Napoleon, in order to study his face, and the Consul put at his service all the garments he had worn at Marengo. It Re told that David mounted Napoleon on a mule for this picture, but that the General demurred. He Sprang upon his horse, and, making him rear, said te the artist, “ Paint me thus.” NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 101 was the hottest. The First Consul advanced toward them and cried: ‘Come, my brave soldiers, spread your banners; the moment has come to distinguish yourselves. I count on your courage to avenge your comrades.” At the mo- ment that he pronounced these words, five men were struck down near him. He turned with a tranquil air towards the enemy, and said: ‘Come, my friends, charge them.’ “Thad curiosity enough to listen attentively to his voice, to examine his features. The most courageous man, the hero the most eager for glory, might have been overcome in his situation without any one blaming him. But he was not. In these frightful moments, when fortune seemed to desert him, he was still the Bonaparte of Arcola and Aboukir.” When Desaix came up with his division, Bonaparte took an hour to arrange for the final charge. During this time the Austrian artillery was thundering upon the army, each volley carrying away whole lines. The men received death without moving from their places, and the ranks closed over the bodies of their comrades. This deadly artillery even reached the cavalry, drawn up behind, as well as a large number of infantry who, encouraged by Desaix’s arrival, had hastened back to the field of honor. In spite of the horror of this preparation Bonaparte did not falter. When he was ready he led his army in an impetuous charge which overwhelmed the Austrians completely, though it cost the French one of their bravest generals, Desaix. It was a frightful struggle, but the perfection with which the final attack was planned, won the battle of Marengo and drove the Austrians from Italy. The Parisians were dazzled by the campaign. Of the passage of the Alps they said, “ It is an achievement greater than Hannibal’s;” and they repeated how “ the First Consul had pointed his finger at the frozen summits, and they had bowed their heads.” At the news of Marengo the streets KLEBER, 1753 OR 1754-1800. Engraved by G. Ficsinger, after portrait by Guérin. 102 NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 103 ? were lit with “joy fires,” and from wall to wall rang the cries of Vive la république! Vive le premier consul! Vive Varmée! — The campaign against the Austrians was finished De- cember 3, 1800, by the battle of Hohenlinden, won by Mo- reau, and in February the treaty of Lunéville established peace. England was slower in coming to terms, it not being until March, 1802, that she signed the treaty of Amiens. At last France was at peace with all the world. She hailed Napoleon as her savior, and ordered that the 18th Brumaire be celebrated throughout the republic as a solemn féte in his honor. The country saw in him something greater than a peace- maker. She was discovering that he was to be her law giver, for, while ending the wars, he had begun to bring order into the interior chaos which had so long tormented the French people, to reéstablish the finances, the laws, the ‘industries, to restore public works, to encourage the arts and sciences, even to harmonize the interests of rich and poor, of church and state. ED, ITUNDR os FIVE a prea c ae TILE UNCIL co o OF PRESIDENT UCIEN BONAPAR1 L CHAPTER VII NAPOLEON AS STATESMAN AND LAWGIVER—THE FINANCES —THE INDUSTRIES—THE PUBLIC WORKS ee OW we must rebuild, and, moreover, we must re- N build solidly,”’ said Napoleon to his brother Lucien the day after the coup d’état which had over- thrown the Directory and made him the temporary Dictator of France. The first necessity was a new constitution. In ten years three constitutions had been framed and adopted, and now the third had, like its predecessors, been declared worthless. At Napoleon’s side was a man who had the draft of a con- stitution ready in his pocket. It had been promised him that, if he would aid in the 18th Brumaire, this instrument should be adopted. This man was the Abbé Sieyés. He had been a prominent member of the Constituent Assembly, but, curiously enough, his fame there had been founded more on his silence and the air of mystery in which he enveloped himself than on anything he had done. The superstitious veneration which he had won, saved him even during the Terror, and he was accustomed to say laconically, when asked what he did in that period. “ I lived.” It was he who, when Napoleon was still in Egypt, had seen the necessity of a military dictatorship, and had urged the Directory to order Napoleon home to help him re- organize the government—an order which was never re- ceived. : Soon after the 18th Brumaire, Sieyés presented his con- 105 106 LIFE OF NAPOLEON stitution. No more bungling and bizarre instrument for conducting the affairs of a nation was ever devised. Warned by the experience of the past ten years, he abandoned the ideas of 1789, and declared that the power must come from above, the confidence from below. His system of voting took the suffrage from the people; his legislative body was composed of three sections, each of which was practically powerless. All the force of the government was centered in a senate of aged men. The Grand Elector, as the figure- head which crowned the edifice was called, did nothing but live at Versailles and draw a princely salary. Napoleon saw at once the weak points of the structure, but he saw how it could be re-arranged to serve a dictator. He demanded that the Senate be stripped of its power, and that the Grand Elector be replaced by a First Consul, to whom the executive force should be confided. Sieyés con- sented, and Napoleon was named First Consul. The whole machinery of the government was now cen tered in one man. “ The state, it was I,” said Napoleon at St. Helena. The new constitution was founded on prin- ciples the very opposite of those for which the Revolution had been made, but it was the only hope there was of drag- ging France from the slough of anarchy and despair into which she had fallen. Napoleon undertook the work of reconstruction which awaited him, with courage, energy, and amazing audacity. He was forced to deal at once with all departments of the nation’s life—with the finances, the industries, the émigrés, the Church, public education, the codification of the laws. The first question was one of money. The country was literally bankrupt in 1799. The treasury was empty, and the government practised all sorts of makeshifts to get money to pay those bills which could not be put off. One day, having to send out a special courier, it was obliged to NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 107 give him the receipts of the opera to pay his expenses. And, again, it was in such a tight pinch that it was on the point of sending the gold coin in the Cabinet of Medals to the mint to be melted. Loans could not be negotiated; govern- ment paper was worthless; stocks were down to the lowest. One of the worst features of the situation was the condition of the taxes. The assessments were as arbitrary as before the Revolution, and they were collected with greater diffi- culty. To select an -honest, capable, and well-known financier was Napoleon’s first act. The choice he made was wise—a Monsieur Gaudin, afterward the Duke de Gaéte, a quiet man, who:had the confidence of the people. Under his man- agement credit was restored, the government was able to make the loans necessary, and the department of finance was reorganized in a thorough fashion. Napoleon’s grati- tude to Monsieur Gaudin was lasting. Once when asked to change him for a more brilliant man, he said: “T fully acknowledge all your protégé is worth; but it might easily happen that, with all his intelligence, he would give me nothing but fresh water, whilst with my good Gaudin I can always rely on having good crown pieces.” The famous Bank of France dates from this time. It was founded under Napoleon’s personal direction, and he never ceased to watch over it jealously. Most important of all the financial measures was the re- organization of the system of taxation. The First Consul insisted that the taxes must meet the whole expense of the nation, save war, which must pay for itself; and he so ordered affairs that never, after his administration was fairly begun, was a deficit known or a loan made. This was done, too, without the people feeling the burden of taxation. In- deed, that burden was so much lighter under his administra- tion that it had been under the old régime, that peasant ‘* BUONAPARTE.”” Fiesinger, engraver, after Guérin. Published ‘‘ 29 Vendémiaire, l’an VII.” (1799). It is of this portrait that Taine writes: ‘‘ Look now at this portrait by Guérin, this lean body, these narrow shoulders in their uniform creased by his brusque motions, this neck enveloped in a high wrinkled cravat, these temples concealed by long hair falling straight over them, nothing to be seen but the face; these hard features made prominent by strong’ contrasts of light and shade; these cheeks as hollow as the interior angle of the eye; these prominent cheek-bones; this massive protruding chin; these curving, mobile, attentive lips; these great, clear eyes deeply set under the overarching eye- brows; this fixed, incomprehensible look, sharp as a sword; these two straight wrinkles which cross the forehead from the base of the nose like a furrow of continual anger and inflexible will.” 108 NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 109 and workman, in most cases, probably did not know they were being taxed. “ Before 1789,” says Taine, “ ou. of one hundred francs of net revenue, the workman gave fourteen to his seignor, fourteen to the clergy, fifty-three to the state, and kept only eighteen or nineteen for himself. Since 1800, from one hundred francs income he pays nothing to the seignor or the Church, and he pays to the state, the department, and the commune but twenty-one francs, leaving seventy-nine in his pocket.” And such was the method and care with which this system was administered, that the state received more than twice as much as it had before. The enormous sums which the police and tax-collectors had appropriated now went to the state. Here is but one example of numbers which show how minutely Napoleon guarded this part of the finances. It is found in a letter to Fouché, the chief of police : “What happens at Bordeaux happens at Turin, at Spa, at Marseilles, etc. The police commissioners derive immense profits from the gam- ing-tables. My intention is that the towns shall reap the benefit of the tables. I shall employ the two hundred thousand francs paid by the tables of Bordeaux in building a bridge or a canal. 2 A great improvement was that the taxes became fixed and regular. Napoleon wished that each man should know what he had to pay out each year. “ True civil liberty de- pends on the safety of property,” he told hig Council of State. “‘ There is none in a country where the rate of tax- ation is changed every year. A man who has three thou- sand francs income does not know how much he will have to live on the next year. His whole substance may be swal- lowed up by the taxes.” Nearly the whole revenue came from indirect taxes ap- plied to a great number of articles. In case of a war which did not pay its way, Napoleon proposed to raise each of 110 LIFE OF NAPOLEON | these a few centimes. The nation would surely prefer this, to paying it to the Russians or Austrians. When possible the taxes were reduced. “ Better leave the money in the hands of the citizens than lock it up in a cellar, as they do in Prussia.” He was cautious that extra taxes should not come on the very poor, if it could be avoided. A suggestion to charge the vegetable and fish sellers for their stalls came before him. ‘“ The public square, like water, ought to be free. It is quite enough that we tax salt and wine. . . . It would become the city of Paris much more to think of restoring the corn market.” An important part of his financial policy was the rigid economy which was insisted on in all departments. If a thing was bought, it must be worth what was paid for it. If a man held a position, he must do its duties. Neither purchases nor positions could be made unless reasonable and useful. This was in direct opposition to the old régime, of which waste, idleness, and parasites were the chief char- acteristics. The saving in expenditure was almost incred- ible. A trip to Fontainebleau, which cost Louis XVI. four hundred thousand dollars, Napoleon would make, in no less state, for thirty thousand dollars. The expenses of the civil household, which amounted to five million dollars under the old régime, were now cut down to six hundred thousand dollars, though the elegance was no less. ¢ A master who gave such strict attention to the prosperity of his kingdom would not, of course, overlook its industries. In fact, they were one of Napoleon’s chief cares. His policy was one of protection. He would have France make everything she wanted, and sell to her neighbors, but never buy from them. To simulate the manufactories, which in 1799 were as nearly bankrupt as the public treasury, he NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 111 visited the factories himself to learn their needs. He gave liberal orders, and urged, even commanded, his associates to do the same. At one time, anxious to aid the batiste fac- tories of Flanders, he tried to force Josephine to give up cotton goods and to set the fashion in favor of the batistes ; but she made such an outcry that he was obliged to abandon the idea. For the same reason he wrote to his sister Eliza: “T beg that you will allow your court to wear nothing but silks and cambrics, and that you will exclude all cottons and muslins, in order to favor French industry.” Frequently he would take goods on consignment, to help a struggling factory. Rather than allow a manufactory to be idle, he would advance a large sum of money, and a quantity of its products would be put under government control. After the battle of Eylau, Napoleon sent one mil- lion six hundred thousand francs to Paris, to be used in this way. To introduce cotton-making into the country was one of his chief industrial ambitions. At the beginning of the ‘century it was printed in all the factories of France, but nothing more. He proposed to the Council of State to pro- hibit the importation of cotton thread and the woven goods, There was a strong opposition, but he carried his point. “ Asa result,” said Napoleon to Las Cases complacently, “we possess the three branches, to the immense advantage of our population and to the detriment and sorrow of the English; which proves that, in administration as in war, one must exercise character. . . . I occupied myself no less in encouraging silks. As Emperor, and King of Italy, I counted one hundred and twenty millions of income from the silk harvest.” In a similar way he encouraged agriculture; especiallv was he anxious that France should raise all her own articles of diet. He had Berthollet look into maple and turnip sugar, j § BONAPARTE, FIRSI CONSUL, One of the best portraits of the First Consul—the truest of all, perhaps. Unlike Bouillon, Van Brée, Géhotte, Isabey, Boilly painted him in his real aspect, without any striving after the ideal. This is really the determined little Corsican, tormented by ambiticn and a thirst for conquest. This fine portrait has been ad- mirably etched by Duplessis-Bertaux.—A. D. Ii2 NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 113 and he did at last succeed in persuading the people to use beet sugar; though he never convinced them that Swiss tea equalled Chinese, or that chicory was as good as coffee. The works he insisted should be carried on in regard to roads and public buildings were of great importance. There was need that something be done. “Tt is impossible to conceive, if one had not been a witness of it before and after the 18th Brumaire [said the chancellor Pasquier], of the widespread ruin wrought by the Revolution. . . . There were hardly two or three main roads [in France] in a fit condition for traffic; not a single one was there, perhaps, wherein was not found some obstacle that could not be surmounted without peril. With regard to the ways of internal communication, they had been indefinitely suspended. The navigation of rivers and canals was no longer feasible. “Tn all directions, public buildings, and those monuments which rep- resent the splendor of the state, were falling into decay. It must fain be admitted that if the work of destruction had been prodigious, that of restoration was no less so. Everything was taken hold of at one and the same time, and everything progressed with a like rapidity. Not only was it resolved to restore all that required restoring in various parts of the country, in all parts of the public service, but new, grand, beautiful and useful works were decided upon. and many were brought to a happy termination. This certainly constitutes one of the most brilliant sides of the consular and imperial régime.” In Paris alone vast improvements were made. Napoleon began the Rue de Rivoli, built the wing connecting the Tuil- eries and the Louvre, erected the triumphal arch of the Carrousel, the Arc de Triomphe at the head of the Champs Elysées, the Column Vendome, the Madeleine, began the Bourse, built the Pont d’Austerlitz, and ordered, com- menced, or finished, a number of minor works of great im- portance to the city. The markets interested him par- ticularly. “ Give all possible care to the construction of the markets and to their healthfulness, and to the beauty of the Halle-aux-blés and of the Halle-aux-vins. The people, too, must have their Louvre.” The works undertaken outside of Paris in France, and in 114 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the countries under her rule in the time that Napoleon was in power were of a variety and extent which would be in- credible, if every traveller in Europe did not have the evi- dence of them still before his eyes. The mere enumeration of these works and of the industrial achievements of Na- poleon, made by Las Cases, reads like a fairy story. “ You wish to know the treasures of Napoleon? They are im- mense, it is true, but they are all exposed to light. They are the noble harbors of Antwerp and Flushing, which are capable of containing the largest fleets, and of protecting them against the ice from the sea; the hydraulic works at Dunkirk, Havre, and Nice; the immense harbor of Cher- bourg; the maritime works at Venice; the beautiful roads from Antwerp to Amsterdam, from Mayence to Metz, from Bordeaux to Bayonne; the passes of the Simplon, of Mont Cenis, of Mount Genévre, of the Corniche, which open a communication through the Alps in four different direc- tions, and which exceed in grandeur, in boldness, and in skill of execution, all the works of the Romans (in that alone you will find eight hundred millions) ; the roads from the Pyrenees to the Alps, from Parma to Spezia, from Savona to Piedmont; the bridges of Jena, Austerlitz, Des Arts, Sévres, Tours, Roanne, Lyons, Turin; of the Isére, of the Durance, of Bordeaux, of Rouen, etc. ; the canal which connects the Rhine with the Rhone by the Doubs, and thus unites the North Sea with the Mediterranean; the canal which joins the Scheldt with the Somme, and thus joins Paris and Amsterdam; the canal which unites the Rance to the Vilaine; the canal of Arles; that of Pavia, and the canal of the Rhine; the draining of the marshes of Bourgoin, of the Cotentin, of Rochefort; the rebuilding of the greater part of the churches destroyed by the Revolution; the build- ing of others: the institution of numerous establishments of NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 115 industry for the suppression of mendicity; the gallery at the Louvre; the construction of public warehouses, of the Bank, of the canal of the Ourcq; the distribution of water in the city of Paris; the numerous drains, the quays, the embellish- ments, and the monuments of that large capital; the works for the embellishment of Rome; the reéstablishment of the manufactures of Lyons; the creation of many hundreds of manufactories of cotton, for spinning and for weaving, which employ several millions of workmen; funds accumu- lated to establish upwards of four hundred manufactories of sugar from beet-root, for the consumption of part of France, and which would have furnished sugar at the same price as the West Indies, if they had continued to receive encouragement for only four years longer; the substitution of woad for indigo, which would have been at last brought to a state of perfection in France, and obtained as good -and as cheap as the indigo from the colonies; numerous manufactories for all kinds of objects of art, etc.; fifty mil- lions expended in repairing and beautifying the palaces be- longing to the Crown; sixty millions in furniture for the palaces belonging to the Crown in France, in Holland, at Turin, and at Rome; sixty millions of diamonds for the Crown, all purchased with Napoleon’s money; the Regent (the only diamond that was left belonging to the former diamonds of the Crown) withdrawn from the hands of the Jews at Berlin, in whose hands it had been left as a pledge for three millions. The Napoleon Museum, valued at up- wards of four hundred millions, filled with objects legiti- mately acquired, either by moneys or by treaties of peace known to the whole world, by virtue of which the chefs- d’oeuvres, it contains were given in lieu of territory or of contributions. Several millions amassed to be applied to the encouragement of agriculture, which is the paramount con- MEDALLION OF BONAPARTE ‘ The following inscription, written in French, by Dutertre, the official painter of the principal personages in the Egyptian ex- pediticn, appears on the reverse side of this medallion, which frames one of the most precious gems of Napoleonic iconogra- phy. ‘I, Dutertre, made this drawing of the general-in-chief from nature, on board the vessel ‘ L’Orient,’ during the crossing of the expedition to Egypt in the year VII, (sic) of the Repub- lic.” A short tine ago the drawing came into the possession of the Versailles Museum, 116 NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 117 sideration for the interest of France; the introduction into France of merino sheep, etc. These form a treasure of several thousand millions which will endure for ages.” Napoleon himself looked on these achievements as his most enduring monument. “The allied powers cannot take from me hereafter,” he told O’Meara, “the great public works I have executed, the roads which I made over the Alps, and the seas which I have united. They cannot place their feet to improve where mine have not been before. They cannot take from me the-code of laws which I formed, and which will go down to posterity.” MOREAU, ABOUT 1801. Engraved by Elizabeth G. Berhan, after Guérin. 118 CHAPTER VIII RETURN OF THE EMIGRES—THE CONCORDAT—-LEGION OF HONOR—CODE NAPOLEON found than those caused by lack of credit, by neglect and corruption. The body which in 1789 made up France had, in the last ten years, been violently and hor- ribly wrenched asunder. One hundred and fifty thousand of the richest, most cultivated, and most capable of the popu- lation had been stripped of wealth and position, and had emigrated to foreign lands. Napoleon saw that if the émigrés could be reconciled, he at once converted a powerful enemy into a zealous friend. In spite of the opposition of those who had made the Revo- lution and gained their positions through it, he accorded an amnesty to the émigrés, which included the whole one hundred and fifty thousand, with the exception of about one thousand, and this. number, it was arranged, should be re- duced to five hundred in the course of a year. More, he provided for their wants. Most of the smaller properties confiscated by the Revolution had been sold, and Napoleon insisted that those who had bought them from the state should be assured of their tenure; but in case a property had not been disposed of, he returned it to the family, though rarely in full. In case of forest lands, not over three hun- dred and seventy-five acres were given back. Gifts and positions were given to many émigrés, su that the majority were able to live in ease. B UT there were wounds in the French nation more pro- 11g 120 LIFE OF NAPOLEON A valuable result of this policy of reconciliation was the amount of talent, experience, and culture which he gained for the government. France had been run for ten years by country lawyers, doctors, and pamphleteers, who, though they boasted civic virtue and eloquence, and though they knew their Plutarch and Rousseau by heart, had no prac- tical sense, and little or no experience. The return of the émigrés gave France a body of trained diplomats, judges, and thinkers, many of whom were promptly admitted to the government. More serious than the amputation of the aristocracy had been that of the Church. The Revolution had torn it from the nation, had confiscated its property, turned its cathedrals into barracks, its convents and seminaries into town halls and prisons, sold its lands, closed its schools and hospitals. It had demanded an oath of the clergy which had divided the body, and caused thousands to emigrate. Not content with this, it had tried to supplant the old religion, first with a worship of the Goddess of Reason, afterwards with one of the Supreme Being. But the people still loved the Catholic Church. The mass of them kept their crucifixes in their houses, told their beads, observed fast days. No matter how severe a penalty was attached to the observance of Sunday instead of the day which had replaced it, called the * decade,” at heart the people remembered it. “We rest on the decade,” said a workman once, “‘ but we change our shirts on Sunday.” Napoleon understood the popular heart, and he proposed the reéstablishment of the Catholic Church. The Revo- lutionists, even his warmest friends among the generals, opposed it. Infidelity was a cardinal point in the creed of the majority of the new régime. They not only rejected the Church, they ridiculed it. Rather than restore Catholi- RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 121 cism, they advised Protestantism. “But,” declared Na- poleon, “ France is not Protestant; she is Catholic.” In the Council of State, where the question was argued, he said : “ My policy is to govern men as the greatest number wish to be governed. . . . I carried on the war of Ven- dée by becoming a Catholic; I established myself in Egypt by becoming a Mussulman; I won over the priests in Italy by becoming Ultramontane. If I governed Jews I should reéstablish the temple of Solomon. . . . It is thus, I think, that the sovereignty of the people should be under- stood.” Evidently this was a very different way of understanding that famous doctrine from that which had been in vogue, which consisted in forcing the people to accept what each idealist thought was best, without consulting their preju- dices or feelings. In spite of opposition, Napoleon’s will prevailed, and in the spring of 1802 the Concordat was signed. This treaty between the Pope and France is still in force in France. It makes the Catholic Church the state church, allows the government to name the bishops, com- pels it to pay the salaries of the clergy, and to furnish cathedrals and churches for public worship, which, how- ever, remain national property. The Concordat provided for the absolution of the priests who had married in the Revolution, restored Sunday, and made legal holidays of certain féte days. This arrangement was not made at the price of intolerance towards other bodies. The French government protects and .contributes towards the support of all religions within its bounds, Catholic, Protestant, Jew, or Mohammedan. The Concordat was ridiculed by many in the government and army, but undoubtedly; it was one of the most statesmanlike measures carried out by Napoleon. “The joy of the overwhelming majority of France “SaT[IEsIOA JU St [euIsu0 ay, “preisg Ag "LVGYOINOD JO ONINDIS RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 123 ’ silenced even the boldest malcontents,” says Pasquier; “ it became evident that Napoleon, better than those who sur- rounded him, had seen into the depths of the nation’s heart.” It is certain that in reéstablishing the Church Napoleon did not yield to any religious prejudice, although the Cath- olic Church was the one he preferred. It was purely a ques- tion of policy. In arranging the Concordat he might have secured move liberal measures—measures in which he be- lieved—but he refused them. “Do you wish me to manufacture a religion of caprice for my own ° special use, a religion that would be nobody’s? I do not so under- stand matters. What I want is the old Catholic religion, the only one which is imbedded in every heart, and from which it has never been torn. This religion alone can conciliate hearts in my favor; it alone can smooth away all obstacles.” In discussing the subject at St. Helena he said to Las Cases: “When I came to the head of affairs, I had already formed certain ideas on the great principles which hold society together. I had weighed all the importance of religion; I was persuaded of it. and J and resolved to reéstablish it. You would scarcely believe in the diffi- culties that I had to restore Catholicism. I would have been followed much more willingly if I had unfurled the banner of Protestantism. 3 It is sure that in the disorder to which I succeeded, in the ruins where I found myself, I could choose between Catholicism and Protestantism. And it is true that at that moment the disposition was in favor of the latter. But outside the fact that I really clung to the religion in which I had been born, I had the highest motives to decide me. By proclaiming Protestantism, what would I have obtained? I should have created in France two great parties about equal, when I wished there should be longer but one. I should have excited the fury of religious quarrels, when the enlightenment of the age and my de- sire was to make them disappear altogether. These two parties in tearing each other to pieces would have annihilated France and render- ed her the slave of Europe, when I was ambitious of making her its mistress. With Catholicism 1 arrived much more surely at my great results. Within, at home, the great number would absorb the small, and I promised myself to treat with the latter so liberally that it would soon have no motive for knowing the difference. 124 LIFE OF NAPOLEON “Without, Catholicism saved me the Pope; and with my influences and our forces in Italy I did not despair sooner or later, by one way or another, of finishing by ruling the Pope myself.” When the Church fell in France, the whole system of education went down with her. The Revolutionary govern- ments tried to remedy the condition, but beyond many plans and speeches little had been done. Napoleon allowed the religious bodies to reopen their schools, and thus primary instruction was soon provided again; and he founded a num- -ber of secondary and special schools. The greatest of his educational undertakings was the organization of the Uni- versity. This institution was centralized in the head of the state as completely as every other Napoleonic institution. It exists to-day but little changed—a most efficient body, in spite of its rigid state control. This university did noth- ing for woman. “T do not think we need trouble ourselves with any plan of instruction for young females,” Napoleon told the Council. “They cannot be brought up better than by their mothers. Public education is not suitable for them, because they are never called upon to act in public. Manners are all in all to them, and marriage is all they look to. In times past the monastic life was open to women; they espoused God, and, though society gained little by that alliance, the parents gained by pocketing the dowry.” It was with the education of the daughters of soldiers, civil functionaries, and members of the Legion of Honor, who had died and left their children unprovided for,. that he concerned himself, establishing schools of which the well-known one at St. Denis is a model. The rules were prepared by Napoleon himself, who insisted that the girls should be taught all kinds of housework and needlework— everything, in fact, which would make them good house- keepers and honest women. RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 125 The military schools were also reorganized at this time. Remembering his own experience at the Ecole Militaire, Na- poleon arranged that the severest economy should be prac- tised in them, and that the pupils should learn to do every- thing for themselves. They even cleaned, bedded, and shod their own horses. The destruction of the old system of privileges and honors left the government without any means of rewarding those who rendered it a service. Napoleon presented a law for a Legion of Honor, under control of the state, which should admit to its membership only those who had done some- thing of use to the public. The service might be military, commercial, artistic, humanitarian; no limit was put on its nature; anything which helped France in any way was to be rewarded by membership in the proposed order. In fact, it was the most democratic distinction possible, since the same reward was given for all classes of service and to all classes of people. Now the Revolutionary spirt spurned all distinction ; and as free discussion was allowed on the law, a severe arraign- ment of it was made. Nevertheless, it passed. It im- mediately became a power in the hands of the First Consul, and such it has remained until to-day in the government. Though it has been frequently abused, and never, perhaps, more flagrantly than by the present Republic, unquestion- ably the French “ red button” is a decoration of which to be proud. The greatest civil achievement of Napoleon was the codi- fication of the laws. Up to the Revolution, the laws of France had been in a misty, incoherent condition, feudal in their spirit, and by no means uniform in their application. The Constituent Assembly had ordered them revised, but the work had only been begun. Napoleon believed justly that the greatest benefit he could render France would be NAPOLEON REVIEWING THE CONSULAR GUARDS IN THE COURT OF TILE TUILERIES. 1800. Engraved in London, by C. Turner, after a painting by J. Masquerie | RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 127 to give her a complete and systematic code. He organized the force for this gigantic task, and pushed revision with unflagging energy. His part in the work was interesting and important. After the laws had been well digested and arranged in pre- liminary bodies, they were submitted to the Council of State. It was in the discussion before this body that Napoleon took part. That a man of thirty-one, brought up as a soldier, and having no legal training, could follow the discussions of such a learned and serious body as Napoleon’s Council of State always was, seems incredible. In fact, he prepared for each session as thoroughly as the law-makers themselves. His habit was to talk over, beforehand generally with Cambacérés and Portalis, two legislators of great learning and clearness of judgment, all the matters which were to come up. “ He examined each question by itself,” says Roederer, “inquiring into all the authorities, times, experiences; de- manding to know how it had been under ancient jurispru- dence, under Louis XIV., or Frederick the Great. When a bill was presented to the First Consul, he rarely failed to ask these questions: Is this bill complete? Does it cover every case Why have you not thought of this? Is that necessary ? Is it right or useful? What is done nowadays and else- where? ” At night, after he had gone to bed, he would read or have read to him authorities on the subject. Such was his capac- ity for grasping any idea, that he would come to the Council with a perfectly clear notion of the subject to be treated, and a good idea of its historical development. Thus he could follow the most erudite and philosophical arguments, and could take part in them. He stripped them at once of all conventional phrases and learned terms, and stated clearly what they meant. He had no use for anything but the plain 128 LIFE OF NAPOLEON meaning. By thus going directly to the practical sense of a thing, he frequently cleared up the ideas of the revisers them- selves. In framing the laws, he took care that they should be worded so that everybody could understand them. Thus, when a law relating to liquors was being prepared, he urged that wholesale and retail should be defined in such a way that they would be definite ideas to the people. “ Pot and pint must be inserted,” he said. ‘“‘ There is no objection to those words. An excise act isn’t an epic poem.” Napoleon insisted on the greatest freedom of speech in the discussions on the laws, just as he did on “ going straight to the point and not wasting time on idle talk.” This clear- headedness, energy, and grasp of subject, exercised over a body of really remarkable men, developed the Council until its discussions became famous throughout Europe. One of its wisest members, Chancellor Pasquier, says of Napoleon’s direction that “it was of such a nature as to enlarge the sphere of one’s ideas, and to give one’s faculties all the de- velopment of which they were capable. The highest legisla- tive, administrative, and sometimes even political matters were taken up in it (the Council). Did we not see, for two consecutive winters, the sons of foreign sovereigns come and complete their education in its midst?” It was the genius of the head of the state, however, which was the most impressive feature of the Council of State. De Molleville, a former minister of Louis XVI., said once to Las Cases: “Tt must be admitted that your Bonaparte, your Napoleon, was a very extraordinary man. We were far from understanding him on the other side of the water. We could not refuse the evidence of his victories and his invasions, it is true; but Genseric; Attila, Alaric had done as much; so he made more of an impression of terror on me than of admiration. But when I came here and followed the discussions on the civil code, from that moment I had nothing but profound veneration RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 129 for him. But where in the world had he learned all that? And then every day I discovered something new in him. Ah, sir, what a man you had there! Truly, he was a prodigy.” The modern reader who looks at France and sees how her University, her special schools, her hospitals, her great honorary legion, her treaty with the Catholic Church, her code of laws, her Bank—the vital elements of her life, in short—are as they came from Napoleon’s brain, must ask, with De Molleville, How did he do it—he a foreigner, born in a half-civilized island, reared in a military school, without diplomatic or legal training, without the prestige of name or wealth? How could he make a nation? How could he be other than the barbaric conqueror the English and the émigrés first thought him. Those who look at Napoleon’s achievements, and are either dazzled or horrified by them, generally consider his power superhuman. They call it divine or diabolic, accord- ing to the feeling he inspires in them; but, in reality, the qualities he showed in his career as a statesman and law- giver are very human ones. His stout grasp on subjects; his genius for hard work; his power of seeing everything that should be done, and doing it himself; his unparalleled audacity, explain his civil achievements. The comprehension he had of questions of government was really the result of serious thinking. He had reflected from his first days at Brienne; and the active interest he had taken in the Revolution of 1789 had made him familiar with many social and political questions. His career in Italy, which was almost as much a diplomatic as a military career, had furnished him an experience upon which he had founded many notions. In his dreams of becoming an Oriental law- giver he had planned a system of government of which he was to be the centre. Thus, before the 18th Brumaire made him the Dictator of France, he had his ideas of centralized BONAPARTE, PF? CONSUY DE F& REP. RRANC.,, NAPOLEON WHILE FIRST CONSUL OF FRANCE. Engraved in 1801 by Audouin, after a design by Bouillon. 130 RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 131 government all formed, just as, before he crossed the Great Saint Bernard, he had fought, over and over, the battle of Marengo, with black- and red-headed pins stuck into a great map of Italy spread out on his study floor. His habit of attending to everything himself explains much of his success. No detail was too small for him, no task too menial. If a thing needed attention, no matter whose business it was, he looked after it. Reading letters once before Madame Junot, she said to him that such work -must be tiresome, and advised him to give it to a secretary. “Later, perhaps,” he said, “‘ Now it is impossible; I must answer for all. It is not at the beginning of a return to order that I can afford to ignore a need, a demand.” He carried out this policy literally. When he went on a journey, he looked personally after every road, bridge, public building, he passed, and his letters teemed with orders about repairs here, restorations there. He looked after individuals in the same way; ordered a pension to this one, a position to that one, even dictating how the gift should be made known so as to offend the least possible the pride of the recipient. When it came to foreign policy, he told his diplomats how they should look, whether it should be grave or gay, whether they should discuss the opera or the political situation. The cost of the soldiers’ shoes, the kind of box Josephine took at the opera, the style of architecture for the Made- leine, the amount of stock left on hand in the silk factories, the wording of the laws, all was his business. He thought of the flowers to be scattered daily on the tomb of General Régnier, suggested the idea of a battle hymn to Rouget de I’Isle, told the artists what expression to give him in their portraits, what accessories to use in the battle pieces, ordered everything, verified everything. “Beside him,” said those who looked on in amazement, “the most punctilious clerk would have been a bungler.” 132 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Without an extraordinary capacity for work, no man could have done this. Napoleon would work until eleven o’clock in the evening, and be up again at three in the morning. Frequently he slept but an hour, and came back as fresh as ever. No secretary could keep up to him, and his ministers sometimes went to sleep in the Council, worn out with the length of the session. “Come, citizen min- isters,’ he would cry, “ we must earn the money the French nation gives us.” The ministers rarely went home from the meetings that they did not find a half-dozen letters from him on their tables to be answered, and the answer must be a clear, exact, exhaustive document. “Get your information so that when you do answer me, there shall be no ‘ buts,’ no ‘ifs,’ and no ‘ becauses,’’’ was the rule Napoleon laid down to his correspondents. He had audacity. He dared do what he would. He had no conventional notions to tie him, no master to dictate to him. The Revolution had swept out of his way the accumu- lated experience of centuries—all the habits, the prejudices, the ways of doing things. He commenced nearer. the bottom than any man in the history of the civilized world had ever done, worked with imperial self-confidence, with a convic- tion that he ‘‘ was not like other men;” that the moral laws, the creeds, the conventions, which applied to them, were not for him. He might listen to others, but in the end he dared do as he would. CHAPTER IX OPPOSITION TO THE CENTRALIZATION OF THE GOVERNMENT — GENERAL PROSPERITY | not to be allowed to go on without interference. Jacobinism, republicanism, royalism, were deeply- rooted sentiments, and it was not long before they began to struggle for expression. Early in the Consulate, plots of many descriptions were unearthed. The most serious before 1803 was that known as the “Opera Plot,” or “ Plot of the 3d Nivose” (De- cember 24, 1800), when a bomb was placed in the street, to be exploded as the First Consul’s carriage passed. By an accident he was saved, and, in spite of the shock, went on to the opera. Madame Junot, who was there, gives a graphic descrip- tion of the way the news was received by the house: P ! \ HE centralization of France in Napoleon’s hands was “The first thirty measures of the oratorio were scarcely played, when a strong explosion like a cannon was heard. “What does that mean?’ exclaimed Junot with emotion. He open- ed the door of the loge and looked into the corridor. . . .‘It is strange; how can they be firing cannon at this hour?’ And then ‘I should have known it. Give me my hat; I am going to find out what it is. = ; “ At this moment the loge of the First Consul opened, and he him- self appeared with Generals Lannes, Lauriston, Berthier, and Duroc. Smiling, he saluted the immense crowd, which mingled cries like those of love with its applause. Madame Bonaparte followed him in a few seconds. : ; “Junot was going to enter the loge to see for himself the serene air 133 134 LIFE OF NAPOLEON of the First Consul that I had just remarked, when Duroc came up to us with troubled face. “The First Consul has just escaped death,’ he said quickly to Junot. ‘Go down and see him; he wants to talk to you” . . . But a dull sound commenced to spread from parterre to orchestra, from orchestra to amphitheatre, and thence to the loges. “©The First Consul has just been attacked in the Rue Saint Nicaise,’ it was whispered. Soon the truth was circulated in the salle; at the same instant, and as by an electric shock, one and the same acclama- tion arose, one and the same look enveloped Napoleon, as if in a pro- tecting love. “What agitation preceded the explosion of national anger which was represented in that first quarter of an hour, by that crowd whose fury for so black an attack could not be expressed by words! Women sobbed aloud, men shivered with indignation. Whatever the banner they followed, they were united heart and arm in this case to show that differences of opinion did not bring with them differences in un- derstanding honor.” It was such attempts, and suspicion of like ones, that led to the extension of the police service. One of the ablest and craftiest men of the Revolution became Napoleon’s head of police in the Consulate, Fouché. A consummate actor and skilful flatterer, hampered by no conscience other than the duty of keeping in place, he acted a curious and entertaining part. Detective work was for him a game which he played with intense relish. He was a veritable amateur of plots, and never gayer than when tracing them. Napoleon admired Fouché, but he did not trust him, and, to offset him, formed a private police to spy on his work. He never succeeded in finding anyone sufficiently fine to match the chief, who several times was malicious enough to contrive plots himself, to excite and mislead the private agents. The system of espionage went so far that letters were regularly opened. It was commonly said that those who did not want their letters read, did not send them by post; and though it was hardly necessary, as in the Revolution, to send them in pies, in coat-linings, or hat-crowns, yet care OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 135 and prudence had to be exercised in handling all political letters. It was difficult to get officials for the post-office who could be relied on to intercept the proper letters; and in 1802, the Postmaster-General, Monsieur Bernard, the father of the beautiful Madame Récamier, was found to be concealing an active royalist correspondence, and to be permitting the circulation of a quantity of seditious pamphlets. His arrest and imprisonment made a great commotion in his daughter’s circle, which was one of social and intellectual importance. Through the intercessions of Bernadotte, Monsieur Ber- nard was pardoned by Napoleon. The cabinet noir, as the department of the post-office which did this work was called, was in existence when Napoleon came to the Consulate, and he rather restricted than increased its operations. It has never been entirely given up, as many an inoffensive for- eigner in France can testify. The theatre and press were also subjected to a strict cen- sorship. In 1800 the number of newspapers in Paris was reduced to twelve; and in three years there were but eight left, with a total subscription list of eighteen thousand six hundred and thirty. Napoleon’s contempt for journalists and editors equalled that he had for lawyers, whom he called a “ heap of babblers and revolutionists.”’ Neither class could, in his judgment, be allowed to go free. The salons were watched, and it is certain that those whose habitués criticised Napoleon freely were reported. One serious rupture resulted from the supervision of the salons, that with Madame de Staél. She had been an ardent admirer of Napoleon in the beginning of the Consulate, and Bourrienne tells several amusing stories of the disgust Napoleon showed at the letters of admiration and sentiment which she wrote him even so far back as the Italian cam- paign. If the secretary is to be believed, Madame de Staél “THE GENERAL OF THE GRAND ARMY.” This pencil portrait by David is nothing but a rapid sketch, but its iconographic in- terest is undeniable. David doubtless exe- cuted this design towards the end of 1797, after Bonaparte’s return from Italy. It belongs to Monsieur Cheramy, a Paris lawyer.—A. D. 136 OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 137 told Napoleon, in one of these letters, that they were cer- tainly created for each other, that it was an error in human institutions that the mild and tranquil Josephine was united to his fate, that nature evidently had intended for a hero such as he, her own soul of fire. Napoleon tore the letter to pieces, and he took pains thereafter to announce with great bluntness to Madame de Staél, whenever he met her, his own notions of women, which certainly were anything but ‘‘ modern.” As the centralization of the government increased, Madame de Staél and her friends criticized Napoleon more freely and sharply than they would have done, no doubt, had she not been incensed by his personal attitude towards her. This hostility increased until, in 1803, the First Con- sul ordered her out of France. “ The arrival of this woman, like that of a bird of omen, has always been the signal for some trouble,” he said in giving the order. “It is not my intention to allow her to remain in France.” In 1807 this order was repeated, and many of Madame de Staél’s friends were included in the proscription : “T have written to the Minister of Police to send Madame de Staél to Geneva. This woman continues her trade of intriguer. She went near Paris in spite of my orders. She is a veritable plague. Speak seriously to the Minister, for I shall be obliged to have her seized by the gendarmerie. Keep an eye upon Benjamin Constant; if he med- dles with anything: I shall send him to his wife at Brunswick. I will not tolerate this clique.” But when one compares the policy of restriction during the Consulate with what it had been under the old régime and during the Revolution, it certainly was far in advance in liberty, discretion, and humanity. The republican govern- ment to-day, in its repression of anarchy, and socialism has acted with less wisdom and less respect for freedom of thought than Napoleon did at this period of his career; and that, too, in circumstances less complicated and critical. 138 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Tf there were still dull rumors of discontent, a cabinet noir, a restricted press, a censorship over the theatre, pro- scriptions, even imprisonments and executions, on the whole France was happy. “ Not only did the interior wheels of the machine com- mence to run smoothly,” says the Duchesse d’Abrantés, “ but the arts themselves, that most peaceful part of the in- terior administration, gave striking proofs of the returning prosperity of France. The exposition at the Salon that year (1800) was remarkably fine. Guérin, David, Gérard, Giro- det, a crowd of great talents, spurred on by the emulation which always awakes the fire of genius, produced works which must some time place our school at a high rank.” The art treasures of Europe were pouring into France. Under the direction of Denon, that indefatigable dilettante and student, who had collected in the expedition in Egypt more entertaining material than the whole Institute, and had written a report of it which will always be preferred to the “Great Work,” the galleries of Paris were reorganized and opened two days of the week to the people. Napoleon in- augurated this practice himself. Not only was Paris sup- plied with galleries; those department museums which to- day surprise and delight the tourist in France were then created at Angers, Antwerp, Autun, Bordeaux, Brussels, Caen, Dijon, Geneva, Grenoble, Le Mans, Lille, Lyons, Mayence, Marseilles, Montpellier, Nancy, Nantes, Rennes, Rouen, Strasburg, Toulouse, and Tours. The prix de Rome, for which there had been no money in the treasury for some time, was reéstablished. Every effort was made to stimulate scientific research. The. case of Volta is one to the point. In 1801 Bonaparte called the eminent physicist to Paris to repeat his experi- ments before the Institute. He proposed that a medal should be given him, with a sum of money, and in his honor he es- OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 139 tablished a prize of sixty thousand francs, to be awarded to any one who should make a discovery similar in value to Volta’s.* An American—Robert Fulton—was about the same time encouraged by the First Consul. Fulton was experimenting with his submarine torpedo and diving boat, and for four years had been living in Paris and besieging the Directory to grant him attention and funds. Napoleon took the matter up as soon as Fulton brought it to him, ordered a commission appointed to look into the invention, and a grant of ten thousand francs for the necessary ex- periments. The Institute was reorganized, and to encourage science and the arts he founded, in 1804, twenty-two prizes, nine of which were of ten thousand francs each, and thirteen of five thousand francs each. They were to be awarded every, ten years by the emperor himself, on the 18th Brumaire. The first distribution of these prizes was to have taken place in 1809, but the judges could not agree on the laureates; and hefore a conclusion was reached, the empire had fallen. In literature and in music, as in art and science, there was a renewal of activity. A circle of poets and writers gathered * The Volta prize has been awarded only three or four times.. An award of particular interest to Americans was that made in 1880 to Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone. The amount of the prize was a little less than ten thousand dollars. Dr. Bell, being already in affluent circumstances, upon receiving this prize, set it apart to be used for the benefit of the deaf, in whose welfare he had for many years taken a great interest. He invested it in another invention of his, which proved to be very profitable, so that the fund came to amount to one hundred thousand dollars. This he termed the Volta Fund. Some of this fund has been applied by Dr. Bell to the organization of the Volta ~ Bureau, which collects all valuable information that can be obtained with reference to not only deaf-mutes as a class, but to deaf-mutes in- dividually. Twenty-five thousand dollars has been given to the As- sociation for the Promotion of Teaching Speech to the Deaf. Napoleon is thus indirectly the founder of one of the most interesting and valuable present undertakings of the country. (CV aiivaeuog jo suoljepau peipuny wae.11y} pue sjsnq peipuny Inoyz UCYY dIoU paonNpoid A10zDeF DY “XT zeek ayy JO pus dy} 07 “JA B94 24} JO JUSWTZ.USZWIUIOD 94} WOLF FEY} SMOTS YIYM JUaUINSOpP [EIOYo ue su etogoq OAeY T “Way} JO uoIsnyIp pue uorjonpord 9y43 paseinosues ‘siayMAiaad avy sty 9as 0} snorxue ‘azied euog pue ‘poised sejnsuoo ayy ur Aypersedse ‘sjsnq yons Aueut paosnposd saraas 50 Aiojpejnueul sy OF painqiye sr ‘omy rayj0 aq} 0} Jotradns yonur st yoIyM YsIy sy ZL “jozlog yMOSIG SaLAIG UT are sjsnq assay “ALOLIISNI AHL JO YACWAW “INSNOD “IVaANAD sV 3LuvavNod 240 OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 141 about the First Consul. Paisiello was summoned to Paris to direct the opera and conservatory of music. There was a revival of dignity and taste in strong contrast to the license and carelessness of the Revolution. The incroyable passed away. The Greek costume disappeared from the street. Men and women began again to dress, to act, to talk, ac- cording to conventional forms. Society recovered its sys- tematic ways of doing things, and soon few signs of the general dissolution which had prevailed for ten years were to be seen. Once more the traveller crossed France in peace; peasant and laborer went undisturbed about their work, and slept without fear. Again the people danced in the fields and “sang their songs as they had in the days before the Revo- lution.” ‘France has nothing to ask from Heaven,” said Regnault de Saint Jean d’Angely, “ but that the sun may continue to shine, the rain to fall on our fields, and the earth to render the seed fruitful.” NAPOLEON IN 1803. Painted by A. Gérard in 1803. Engraved by Richomme in 1835! CHAPTER X PREPARATIONS FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND—FLOTILLA AT BOULOGNE—SALE OF LOUISIANA N the spring of 1803 the treaty of Amiens, which a year before had ended the long war with England, was broken. Both countries had many reasons for com- plaint. Napoleon was angry at the failure to evacuate Malta. The perfect freedom allowed the press in England gave the pamphleteers and caricaturists of the country an opportunity to criticize and ridicule him. He complained bitterly to the English ambassadors of this free press, an institution in his eyes impractical and idealistic. He complained, too, of the hostile émigrés allowed to collect in Jersey ; of the presence in England of such a notorious enemy of his as Georges Cadou- dal; and of the sympathy and money the Bourbon princes and many nobles of the old régime received in London society. Then, too, he regarded the country as his natural and in- evitable enemy. England to Napoleon was only a little island which, like Corsica and Elba, naturally belonged to France, and he considered it part of his business to get possession of her. England, on the other hand, looked with distrust at the extension of Napoleon’s influence on the Continent. North- ern Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Parma, Elba, were under his protectorate. She had been deeply offended by a report published in Paris, on the condition of the, Orient, in which the author declared that with six thousand men the French could reconquer Egypt; she resented the violent articles in 143 144 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the official press of Paris in answer to those of the free press of England; her aristocratic spirit was irritated by Na- poleon’s success; she despised this parvenu, this “ Corsican scoundrel,” as Nelson called him, who had had the hardihood to rise so high by other than the conventional methods for getting on in the world which she sanctioned. Real and fancied aggressions continued throughout the year of the peace; and when the break finally came, though both nations persisted in declaring that they did not want war, both were in a thoroughly warlike mood. Napoleon’s preparations against England form one-of the most picturesque military movements in his career. Un- able to cope with his enemy at sea, he conceived the auda- ious notion of invading the island, and laying siege to Lon- don itself. The plan briefly was this—to gather a great army on the north shore of France, and in some port a flotilla suf- ficient to transport it to Great Britain. In order to prevent interference with this expedition, he would keep the enemy’s fleet occupied in the Mediterranean, or in the Atlantic, until the critical moment. Then, leading the English naval com- mander by stratagem in the wrong direction, he would call his own fleet to the Channel to protect his passage. He counted to be in London, and to have compelled the English to peace, before Nelson could return from the chase he would have led him. The preparations began at once. The port chosen for the flotilla was Boulogne; but the whole coast from Antwerp to the mouth of the Seine bristled with iron and bronze. Between Calais and Boulogne, at Cape Gris Nez, where the navigation was the most dangerous, the batteries literally touched one another. Fifty thousand men were put to work ar the stupenduous excavations necessary to make the ports large enough to receive the flotilla. Large num- bers of troops were brought rapidly into the neighborhood: PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 145 fifty thousand men to Boulogne, under Soult; thirty thou- .sand to Etaples, under Ney; thirty thousand to Ostend, under Davoust; reserves to Arras, Amiens, Saint-Omer. The work of preparing the flat-bottomed boats, or wal- nut-shells, as the English called them, which were to carry over the army, went on in all the ports of Holland and France, as well as in interior towns situated on rivers lead- ing to the sea. The troops were taught to row, each sol- dier being obliged to practise two hours a day so that the rivers of all the north of France were dotted with land-lub- bers handling the oar, the most of them for the first time. In the summer of 1803, Napoleon went to the north to look after the work. His trip was one long ovation. Le Chemin d’Angleterre was the inscription the people of Amiens put on the triumphal arch erected to his honor, and town vied with town in showing its joy at the proposed descent on the old-time enemy. Such was the interest of the people, that a thousand pro- jects were suggested to help on the invasion, some of them most amusing. In a learned and thoroughly serious me- morial, one genius proposed that while the flotilla was pre- paring, the sailors be employed in catching dolphins, which should be shut up in the ports, tamed, and taught to wear a harness, so as to be driven, in the water, as horses are on land. This novel power was to transport the French to the opposite side of .the Channel. Napoleon occupied himself not only with the preparations at Boulogne and with keeping Nelson busy elsewhere. Every project which could possibly facilitate his under- taking or discomfit his enemies, he considered. Fulton’s diving-boat, the “‘ Nautilus,” and his submarine torpedoes, were at that time attracting the attention of the war de- partments of civilized countries. Already Napoleon had granted ten thousand francs to help the inventor. From the GRAY REDINGOTE AND PLCTIT CHAPEAU WORN BY NAPOLEON, I4o PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 147 camp at Boulogne he again ordered the matter to be looked into. Fulton promised him a machine which “ would deliver France and the whole world from British oppression.” “T have just read the project of Citizen Fulton, engineer, which you have sent me much too late,” he wrote, “ since it is one that may change the face of the world. Be that as it may, I desire that you immediately confide its examination to a commission of members chosen by you among the different classes of the Institute. There it is that learned Europe would seek for judges to resolve the question under consider- ation. A great truth, a physical, palpable truth, is before my eyes. It will be for these gentlemen to try and seize it and see it. As soon as their report is made, it will be sent to you, and you will forward it to me. Try and let the whole be determined within eight days, as I am impatient.” He had his eye on every point of the earth where he might — be weak, or where he might weaken his enemy. He took possession of Hanover. The Irish were promised aid in their efforts for freedom. ‘“‘ Provided that twenty thousand united Irishmen join the French army on its landing,” France is to give them in return twenty-five thousand men, forty thousand muskets, with artillery and ammunition, and a promise that the French government will not make peace with England until the independence of Ireland has been proclaimed. An attack on India was planned, his hope being that the princes of India would welcome an invader who would aid them in throwing off the English yoke. To strengthen him- self in the Orient, he sought by letters and envoys to win the confidence, as well as to inspire the awe, of the rulers of Turkey and Persia. The sale of Louisiana to the United States dates from this time. This transfer, of such tremendous importance to us, was made by Napoleon purely for the sake of hurting ‘England. France had been in possession of Louisiana but three years. She had obtained it from Spain only on the condition that it should “at no time, under no pretext, and 148 LIFE OF NAPOLEON in no manner, be alienated or ceded to any other power.” The formal stipulation of the treaties forbade its sale. But Napoleon was not of a nature to regard a treaty, if the in- terest of the moment demanded it to be broken. To sell Louisiana now would remove a weak spot from France, upon which England would surely fall in the war. More, it would put a great territory, which he could not control, into the hands of a country which, he believed, would some day be a serious hinderance to English ambition. He sold the colony for the same reason that former French govern- ments had helped the United States in her struggles for in- dependence—to cripple England. It would help the United ‘States, but it would hurt England. That was enough; and with characteristic eagerness he hurried through the nego- tiations. “T have just given England a maritime rival which, sooner or later, will humble her pride,” he said exultingly, when the convention was signed. The sale brought him twelve million dollars, and the United States assumed the French spoliation claims. This sale of Louisiana caused one of the first violent quarrels between Lucien Bonaparte and Napoleon. Lucien had negotiated the return of the American territory to France in 1800. He had made a princely fortune out of the treaty, and he was very proud of the transaction; and when his brother Joseph came to him one evening in hot haste, with the information that the General wanted to sell Louisiana, he hurried around to the Tuileries in the morn- ing to remonstrate. Napoleon was in his bath, but, in the mode of the time, he received his brothers. He broached the subject himself, and asked Lucien what he thought. “TI flatter myself that the Chambers will not give their consent.” PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 149 “You flatter yourself?” said Napoleon. ‘ That’s good, I declare.” “T have already said the same to the First Consul,” cried Joseph. “And what did I answer?” said Napoleon, splashing around indignantly in the opaque water. “That you would do it in spite of the Chambers.” “Precisely. I shall do it without the consent of anyone whomsoever. Do you understand?” Joseph, beside himself, rushed to the bathtub, and declared that if Napoleon dared do such a thing he would put him- self at the head of an opposition and crush him in spite of their fraternal relations. So hot did the debate grow that the First Consul sprang up shouting: “ You are insolent! I ought ” but at that moment he slipped and fell back violently. A great mass of perfumed water drenched Joseph to the skin, and the conference broke up. An hour later, Lucien met his brother in his library, and the discussion was resumed, only to end in another scene, Napoleon hurling a beautiful snuff-box upon the floor and shattering it, while he told Lucien that if he did not cease his opposition he would crush him in the same way. These violent scenes were repeated, but to no purpose. Louisiana was sold. NAPOLEON THE GREAT (“‘ NAPOLEON LE GRAND”) IN CORONATION ROBES. 1805. Painted and engraved by order of the Emperor. Engraved by Desnoyers, after portrait painted by Gérard in 1805. 150 CHAPTER XI OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON—-THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE—KING OF ITALY HILE the preparation for the invasion was going \/ \) on, the feeling against England was intensified by the discovery of a plot against the life of the First Consul. Georges Cadoudal, a fanatical royalist, who was accused of being connected with the plot of the 3d Nivoése (December 24), and who had since been in England, had formed a gigantic conspiracy, having as its object noth- ing less than the assassination of Napoleon in broad day- light, in the:streets of Paris. He had secured powerful aid to carry out his plan. The Bourbon princes supported him, and one of them was to land on the north coast and put himself at the head of the royalist sympathizers as soon as the First Consul was killed. In this plot was associated Pichegru, who had been connected with the 18th Fructidor. General Moreau, the hero of Hohen- linden, was suspected of knowing something of it. It came to light in time, and a general arrest was made of those suspected of being privy to it. The first to be tried and punished was the Duc d’Enghien, who had been seized at Ettenheim, in Baden, a short distance from the French frontier, on the supposition that he had been coming secretly to Paris to be present at the meetings of the conspirators. His trial at Vincennes was short, his execution immediate. There is good reason to believe that Napoleon had no sus- picion that the Duc d’Enghien would be executed so soon as 151 152 LIFE OF NAPOLEON he was, and even to suppose that he would have lightened the sentence if the punishment had not been pushed on with an irregularity and inhumanity that recalls the days of the Terror. The execution was a severe blow to Napoleon’s popu- larity, both at home and abroad. Fouché’s cynical remark was just: “ The death of the Duc d’Enghien is worse than a crime; it is a blunder.’ Chateaubriand, who had accepted a foreign embassy, resigned at once, and a number of the old aristocracy, such as Pasquier and Molé, who had been say- ing among themselves that it was their duty to support Na- poleon’s splendid work of reorganization, went back into obscurity. In society the effect was distressing. The mem- bers of Napoleon’s own household met him with averted faces and sad countenances, and Josephine wept until he called her a child who understood nothing of politics. Abroad there was a revulsion of sympathy, particularly in the cabinets of Russia, Prussia, and Austria. The trial of Cadoudal and Moreau followed. The former with several of his accomplices was executed. Moreau was exiled for two years. Pichegru committed suicide in the Temple. This plot showed Napoleon and his friends that a Jacobin or royalist fanatic might any day end the life upon which the scheme of reorganization depended. It is true he had already been made First Consul for life by a practically unanimous vote, but there was need of strengthening his position and providing a succession. In March, six days after the death of the Duc d’Enghien, the Senate proposed to him that he complete his work and take the throne. In April the Council of State and the Tribunate took up the discussion. The opinion of the majority was voiced by Regnault de Saint- Jean d’Angély: “It is a long time since all reasonable men, all true friends of their country, have wished that the First OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 153 Consul would make himself emperor, and reéstablish, in favor of his family, the old principles of hereditary suc- cession. It is the only means of securing permanency for his own fortune, and to the men whom merit has raised to high offices. The Republic, which I loved passionately, while I detested the crimes of the Revolution, is now in my eyes a mere Utopia. The First Consul has convinced me that he wishes to possess supreme power only to render France great, free, and happy, and to protect her against the fury of factions.” The Senate soon after proceeded in a body to the Tuil- eries. ‘“‘ You have extricated us from the chaos of the past,” said the spokesman; “you enable us to enjoy the blessings of the present; guarantee to us the future.”’ On the 18th of May, 1804, when thirty-five years old, Napoleon was first addressed as “ sire,”’ and congratulated on his elevation to the throne of the French people. Immediately his household took on the forms of royalty. His mother was Madame Meére; Joseph, Grand-Elector, with the title of Imperial Highness; Louis, Constable, with the same title; his sisters were Imperial Highnesses. Titles were given to all officials; the ministers were excellencies; Cambacérés and Le Brun, the Second and Third Consuls, became Arch Chancellor and Arch Treasurer of the Empire. Of his generals, Berthier, Murat, Moncey, Jourdan, Mas- séena, Augureau, Bernadotte, Soult, Brune, Lannes, Mortier, Ney, Davoust, and Bessiéres were made marshals. The red button of the Legion of Honor was scattered in profusion. The title of citoyen, which had been consecrated by the Revo- lution, was dropped, and hereafter everybody was called monsieur. Two of Napoleon’s brothers, unhappily, had no part in these honors. Jerome, who had been serving as lieutenant in the navy, had, in 1803, while in the United States, mar- et LIFE OF NAPOLEON ried a Miss Elizabeth Patterson of Baltimore. Napoleon forbade the recording of the marriage, and declared it void. As Jerome had not as yet given up his wife, he had no share in the imperial rewards. Lucien was likewise omitted, and for a similar reason. His first wife had died in 1801, and much against Napoleon’s wishes he had married a Madame Jouberthon, to whom he was deeply attached; nothing could induce him to renounce his wife and take the Queen of Etruria, as Napoleon wished. The result of his refusal was a violent quarrel between the brothers, and Lucien left France. This rupture was certainly a grief to Napoleon. Madame de Rémusat draws a pathetic little picture of the effect upon him of the last interview with Lucien: “It was near midnight when Bonaparte came into the room; he was deeply dejected, and, throwing himself into an arm-chair, he exclaimed in a troubled voice, ‘It is all over! I have broken with Lucien, and ordered him from my presence.’ Madame Bonaparte began to ex- postulate. ‘You are a good woman,’ he said, ‘to plead for him.’ Then he rose from his chair, took his wife in his arms, and laid her head softly on his shoulder, and with his hand still resting on the beautiful head, which formed a contrast to the sad, set countenance so near it, he told us that Lucien had resisted all his entreaties, and that he had resorted equally in vain to both threats and persuasion. ‘It is hard, though,’ he added, ‘ to find in one’s own family such stubborn opposition to interests of such magnitude. Must I, then, isolate myself from every one? Must I rely on myself alone? Well! I will suffice to myself; and you, Jose- phine—you will be my comfort always.” A fever of etiquette seized on all the inhabitants of the imperial palace of Saint Cloud. The ponderous regulations of Louis XIV. were taken down. from tthe shelves in the library, and from them a code began to be compiled. Madame Campan, who had been First Bedchamber Woman to Marie Antoinette, was summoned to interpret the solemn law, and to describe costumes and customs. Monsieur de Talleyrand, who had been made Grand Chamberlain, was an authority who was consulted on everything. OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 155 “We all felt ourselves more or less elevated,” says Madame de Rémusat. “ Vanity is ingenious in its expec- tations, and ours were unlimited. Sometimes it was disen- chanting, for a moment, to observe the almost ridiculous effect which this agitation produced upon certain classes of society. Those who had nothing to do with our brand new dignities said with Montaigne, ‘ Let us avenge ourselves by railing at them.’ Jests, more or less witty, and puns, more or less ingenious, were lavished on these new-made princes, and somewhat disturbed our brilliant visions; but the num- ber of those who dare to censure success is small, and flattery was much more common than criticism.” No one was more severe in matters of etiquette than Na- poleon himself. He studied the subject with the same at- tention that he did the civil code, and in much the same way. “Tn concert with Monsieur de Ségur,” he wrote De Cham- pagny, “ you must write me a report as to the way in which ministers and ambassadors should be received. . . . It will be well for you to enlighten me as to what was the practice at Versailles, and what is done at Vienna and St. Petersburg. Once my regulations adopted, everyone must conform to them. I am master, to establish what rules I like in France.” He had some difficulty with his old comrades-in-arms, who were accustomed to addressing him in the familiar second singular, and calling him Bonaparte, and who per- sisted, occasionally, even after he was “ sire,” in using the language of easy intimacy. Lannes was even removed for some time from his place near the emperor for an indiscre- tion of this kind. In August, 1804, the new emperor visited Boulogne to receive the congratulations of his army and distribute deco- rations. His visit was celebrated by a magnificent féte. Those who know the locality of Boulogne, remember, north 156 LIFE OF NAPOLEON of the town, an amphitheatre-like plain, in the centre of which is a hill. In this plain sixty thousand men were camped. On the elevation was erected a throne. Hereby stood the chair of Dagobert; behind it the armor of Francis I.; and around rose scores of blood-stained, ‘bullet-shot flags, the trophies of Italy and Egypt. Beside the emperor was the helmet of Bayard, filled with the decorations to be distributed. Up and down the coast were the French bat- teries; in the port lay the flotilla; to the right and left stretched the splendid army. Just as the ceremonies were finished, a fleet of over a thousand boats came sailing into the harbor to join those already there, while out in the Channel English officers and sailors, with levelled glasses, watched from their vessels the splendid armament, which was celebrating its approaching descent on their shores. On December Ist the Senate presented the emperor the result of the vote taken among the people as to whether hereditary succession should be adopted. There were two thousand five hundred and seventy-nine votes against; three million five hundred and seventy-five thousand for—a vote more nearly unanimous than that for the life consulate, there being something like nine thousand against him then. The next day Napoleon was crowned at Notre Dame. The ceremony was prepared with the greatest care. Grand Master of Ceremonies de Ségur, aided by the painter David, drew up the plan and trained the court with great severity in the etiquette of the occasion. He had the widest liberty, it even being provided that “if it be indispensable, in order that the cortége arrive at Notre Dame with greater facility, to pull down some houses,” it should be done. By a master stroke of diplomacy Napoleon had persuaded Pope Pius VII. to cross the Alps to perform for him the solemn and ancient service of coronation. OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 157 Of this ceremony we have no better description than that of Madame Junot: “Who that saw Notre Dame on that memorable day can ever forget it? I have witnessed in that venerable pile the celebration of sumptuous and solemn festivals; but never did I see anything at all approximating in splendor the spectacle exhibited at Napoleon’s coronation. The vaulted roof re-echoed the sacred chanting of the priests, who invoked the blessing of the Almighty on the ceremony about to be celebrated, while they awaited the arrival of the Vicar of Christ, whose throne was prepared néar the altar. Along the ancient walls covered with magnifi- cent tapestry were ranged, according to their rank, the different bodies of the state, the deputies from every city; in short, the representatives of all France assembled to implore the benediction of Heaven on the sovereign of the people’s choice. The waving plumes which adorned the hats of the senators, counsellors of state, and tribunes; the splendid uniforms of the military; the clergy in all their ecclesiastical pomp; and the multitude of young and beautiful women, glittering in jewels, and arrayed in that style of grace and elegance which is only seen in Paris ;— altogether presented a picture which has, perhaps, rarely been equalled, and certainly never excelled. “The Pope arrived first; and at the moment of his entering the Ca- thedral, the anthem Tu es Petrus was commenced. His Holiness ad- vanced from the door with an air at once majestic and humble. Ere long, the firing of a cannon announced the departure of the procession from the Tuileries. From an early hour in the morning the weather had been exceeding unfavorable. It was cold and rainy, and appearances seemed to indicate that the procession would be anything but agreeable to those who joined it. But, as if by the especial favor of Providence, of which so many instances are observable in the career of Napoleon, the clouds suddenly dispersed, the sky brightened up, and the multitudes who lined the streets from the Tuileries to the Cathedral, enjoyed the sight of the procession without being, as they had anticipated, drenched by a December rain. Napoleon, as he passed along, was greeted by heartfelt expressions of enthusiastic love and attachment. “ On his arrival at Notre Dame, Napoleon ascended the throne, which was erected in front of the grand altar. Josephine took her place be- side him, surrounded by the assembled sovereigns of Europe. Na- poleon appeared singularly calm. I watched him narrowly, with a view of discovering whether his heart beat more highly beneath the imperial trappings than under the uniform of the guards; but I could observe no difference, and yet I was at the distance of only ten paces from him. The length of the ceremony, however, seemed to weary him; and I saw him several times check a yawn. Nevertheless, he did everything he was eth a He 7) Hi Ny H if 7 ‘ i Wa a i i Hi a Hh Ha NAPOLEON WITH THE IRON CROWN OF LOMBARDY. Designed and engraved by Longhi, in 1812, for ‘“ Vite © Ritratti di illustri Italiani.” 158 OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 159 required to do, and did it with propriety. When the Pope anointed him with the triple unction on his head and both hands, I fancied, from the direction of his eyes, that he was thinking of wiping off the oil rather than of anything else; and I was so perfectly acquainted with the work- ings of his countenance, that I have no hesitation in saying that was really the thought that crossed his mind at that moment. During the ceremony of anointing, the Holy Father delivered that impressive prayer which concluded with these words: ‘ Diffuse, O Lord, by my hands, the treasures of your grace and benediction on your servant Napoleon, whom, in spite of our personal unworthiness. we this day anoint em- peror, in your name.’ Napoleon listened to this prayer with an air of pious devotion; but just as the Pope was about to' take the crown, called the Crown of Charlemagne, from the altar, Napoleon seized it, and placed it on his own head. At that moment he was really handsome, and his countenance was lighted up with an expression of which no words can convey an idea. “He had removed the wreath of laurel which he wore on entering the church, and which encircles his brow in the fine picture of Gérard. The crown was, perhaps, in itself, less becoming to him; but the ex- pression excited by the act of putting it on, rendered him perfectly handsome. “When the moment arrived for Josephine to take an active part in the grand drama, she descended from the throne and advanced to- wards the altar, where the emperor awaited her, followed by her retinue of court ladies, and having her train borne by the Princesses Caroline, Julie, Eliza, and Louis. One of the chief beauties of the Empress Josephine was not merely her fine figure, but the elegant turn of her neck, and the way in which she carried her head; indeed, her deport- ment altogether was conspicuous for dignity and grace. I have had the honor of being presented to many real princesses, to use the phrase of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, but I never saw one who, to my eyes, pre- sented so perfect a personification of elegance and majesty. In Na- poleon’s countenance I could read the conviction of all I have just said. He looked with an air of complacency at the empress as she ad- vanced towards him; and when she knelt down, when the tears, which she could not repress, fell upon her clasped hands, as they were raised to Heaven, or rather to Napoleon, both then appeared to enjoy one of those fleeting moments of pure felicity which are unique in a lifetime, and serve to fill up a lustrum of years. The emperor performed, with peculiar grace, every action required of him during the ceremony; but his manner of crowning Josephine was most remarkable: after receiving the small crown, surmounted by the cross. he had first to place it on his own head, and then to transfer it to that of the empress. When the moment arrived for placing the crown on the head of the woman whom 160 LIFE OF NAPOLEON popular superstition regarded as his good genius, his manner was almost playful. He took great pains to arrange this little crown, which was placed over Josephine’s tiara of diamonds; he put it on, then took it off, and finally put it on again, as if to promise her she should wear it grace- fully and lightly.” The fate of France had no sooner been settled, as Na- poleon believed, than it became necessary to decide on what should be done with Italy. The crown was offered to Joseph, who refused it. He did not want to renounce his claim to that of France, and finally Napoleon decided to take it himself. A new constitution was prepared for the country by the French Senate, and, when all was arranged, Napoleon started on April 1st for Italy. A great train ac- companied him, and the trip was of especial interest. The party crossed the Alps by Mont Cenis, and the road was so bad that the carriages had to be taken to pieces and carried over, while the travellers walked. This trip really led to the fine roads which now cross Mont Cenis. At Alessandria Na- poleon halted, and on the field of Marengo ordered a re- view of the manceuvres of the famous battle. At this re- view he even wore the coat and hat he had worn on that famous day four years before. By the time the imperial party was ready to enter Milan, on May 13, it had increased to a triumphal procession, and the entry was attended by most enthusiastic demonstra- tions. On May 26 the coronation took place. The iron crown, used so long for the coronation of the Lombard kings, had been brought out for the occasion. When the point in the ceremony was reached where the crown was to be placed on Napoleon’s head, he seized it, and with his own hands placed it on his head, repeating in a loud voice the words inscribed on the crown: “‘ God gives it to me; beware who touches it.” Josephine was not crowned Queen of Italy, but watched the scene from a gallery above the altar. OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 161 ’ Napoleon remained in Italy for another month, engaged in settling the affairs of the country. The order of the Crown of Iron was created, the constitution settled, Prince Eugéne was made viceroy, and Genoa was joined to the Empire. t i \ k ‘ypey Aq ydersoqiry “saqavnd SIH ONIMGAIATY NOATIOUVN 162 CHAPTER XII CAMPAIGN OF I805—CAMPAIGN OF I806-1807—PEACE OF TILSIT power, and particularly on the change in the institu- tions of her neighbors. In assuming control of the Italian and Germanic States, Napoleon gave the people his code and his methods; personal liberty, equality before the law, religious. toleration, took the place of the unjust and nar- row feudal institutions. These new ideas were quite as hate- ful to Austria as the disturbance in the balance of pewer, and more dangerous to her system. Russia and Prussia felt the same suspicion of Napoleon as Austria did. All three powers were constantly incited to action against France by England, who offered unlimited gold if they would but com- bine with her. In the summer of 1805 Austria joined Eng- land and Russia in a coalition against France. Prussia was not yet willing to commit herself. The great army which for so many months had been gathering around Boulogne, preparing for the descent on England, waited anxiously for the arrival of the French fleet to cover its passage. But the fleet did not come; and, though hoping until the last that his plan would still be carried out, Napoleon quietly and swiftly made ready to transfer the army of England into the Grand Army, and to turn its march against his continental enemies. Never was his great war rule, “ Time is everything,” more thoroughly carried out. “ Austria will employ fine phrases 163 A USTRIA looked with jealousy on this increase of 164 LIFE OF NAPOLEON in order to gain time,” he wrote Talleyrand, “ and to pre- vent me accomplishing anything this year; . . . and in April I shall find one hundred thousand Russians in Poland, fed by England, twenty thousand English at Malta, and fifteen thousand Russians at Corfu. I should then be in a critical position. My mind is made up.” His orders flew from Boulogne to Paris, to the German States, to Italy, to his generals, to his naval commanders. By the 28th of August the whole army had moved. A month later it had crossed the Rhine, and Napoleon was at its head. The force which he commanded was in every way an ex- traordinary one. Marmont’s enthusiastic description was in no way an exaggeration: “This army, the most beautiful that was ever seen, was less re- doubtable from the number of its soldiers than from their nature. Almost all of them had carried on war and had won victories. There still existed among them something of the enthusiasm and exaltation of the Revolutionary campaigns; but this enthusiasm was systematized. From the supreme chief down—the chiefs of the army corps, the division commanders, the common officers and soldiers—everybody was hardened to war. The eighteen months in splendid camps had produced a train- ing, an ensemble, which has never existed since to the same degree, and a boundless confidence. This army was probably the best and the most redoubtable that modern times have seen.” The force responded to the imperious genius of its com- mander with a beautiful precision which amazes and dazzles one who follows its march. So perfectly had all been ar- : ranged, so exactly did every corps and officer respond, that nine days after the passage of the Rhine, the army was in Bavaria, several marches in the rear of the enemy. The weather was terrible, but nothing checked them. The em- peror himself set the example. Day and night he was on horseback in the midst of his troops; once for a week he did not take off his boots. When they lagged, or the enemy harassed them, he would gather each regiment into a circle, explain to it the position of the enemy, the imminence of a CAMPAIGN OF 1805 165 great battle, and his confidence in his troops. These haran- gues sometimes took place in driving snowstorms, the soldiers standing up to their knees in icy slush. By October 13th, such was, the extraordinary march they had made, the emperor was able to issue this address to the army: “ Soldiers, a month ago we were encamped on the shores of the ocean, opposite England, when an impious league forced us to fly to the Rhine. Not a fortnight ago that river was passed; and the Alps, the Neckar, the Danube, and the Lech, the celebrated barriers of Germany, have not for a minute delayed our march. . . The enemy, deceived by our manceuvres and the rapidity of our movements, is entirely turned. But for the army before you, we should be in London to-day, have avenged six centuries of insult, and have liberated the sea. “Remember to-morrow that you are fighting against the allies of England. . . . “ NAPOLEON.” Four days after this address came the capitulation of Ulm —a “new Caudine Forks,” as Marmont called it. It was, as Napoleon said, a victory won by legs, instead of by arms. The great fatigue and the forced marches which the army had undergone had gained them sixty thousand prisoners, one hundred and twenty guns, ninety colors, more than thirty generals, at a cost of but fifteen hundred men, two- thirds of them but slightly wounded. But there was no rest for the army. Before the middle of November it had so surrounded Vienna that the emperor and his court had fled to Brinn, seventy or eighty miles north of Vienna, to meet the Russians, who, under Alex- ander I., were coming from Berlin. Thither Napoleon followed them, but the Austrians retreated eastward, join- ing the Russians at Olmiitz. The combined force of the allies was now some ninety thousand men. They had a strong reserve, and it looked as if the Prussian army was about to join them. Napoleon at Briinn had only some seventy or eighty thousand men, and was in the heart of the enemy’s country. Alexander, flattered by his aides, and NAPOLEON, 1805. Engraved in 1812 by Massard, after Bouillon. 166 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 167 confident that he was able to defeat the French, resolved to leave his strong position at Olmiitz and seek battle with Napoleon. The position the French occupied can be understood if one draws a rough diagram of a right-angled triangle, Briinn being at the right angle formed by two roads, one running south to Vienna, by which Napoleon had come, and the other running eastward to Olmiitz. The hypot- enuse of this angle, running from northeast to southwest, is formed ‘by Napoleon’s army. When the allies decided to leave Olmiitz their plan was to march southwestward, in face of Napoleon’s line, get be- tween him and Vienna, and thus cut off what they supposed was his base of supplies (in this they were mistaken, for Napoleon had, unknown to them, changed his base from Vienna to Bohemia), separate him from his Italian army, and drive him, routed, into Bohemia. On the 27th of November the allies advanced, and their first encounter with a small French vanguard was successful. It gave them confidence, and they continued their march on the 28th, 29th, and 30th, gradually extending a long line facing westward and parallel with Napoleon’s line. The French emperor, while this movement was going on, was rapidly calling up his reserves and strengthening his posi- tion. By the first day of December Napoleon saw clearly what the allies intended to do, and had formed his plan. The events of that day confirmed his ideas. By nine o’clock in the evening he was so certain of the plan of the coming battle that he rode the length of his line, explaining to his troops the tactics of the allies, and what he himself pro- posed to do. Napoleon’s appearance before the troops, his confident assurance of victory, called out a brilliant demonstration from the army. The divisions of infantry raised bundles of 168 LIFE OF NAPOLEON blazing straw on the ends of long poles, giving him an illumination as imposing as it was novel. It was a happy thought, for the day was the anniversary of his coronation. The emperor remained in bivouac all night. At four o’clock of the morning of the 2d of December he was in the saddle. When the gray fog lifted he saw the enemy’s divis- ions arranged exactly as he had divined. Three corps faced his right—the southwest part of the hypotenuse. These corps had left a splendid position facing his centre, the heights of Pratzen. This advance of the enemy had left their centre weak and unprotected, and had separated the body of the army from its right, facing Napoleon’s left. The enemy was in ex- actly the position Napoleon wished for the attack he had planned. It was eight o’clock in the morning when the emperor galloped up his line, proclaiming to the army that the enemy had exposed himself, and crying out: ‘‘ Close the campaign with a clap of thunder.”” The generals rode to their posi- tions, and at once the battle opened. Soult, who commanded the French centre, attacked the allies’ centre so unexpectedly that it was driven into retreat. The Emperor Alexander and his headquarters were in this part of the army, and though the young czar did his best to rouse his forces, it was a hopeless task. The Russian centre was defeated and the wings divided. At the same time the allies’ left, where the bulk of their army was massed in a marshy country of which they knew little, was engaged and held in check by Davoust, and their right was overeome by Lannes, Murat, and Bernadotte. As soon as the centre and right of the allies had been driven into retreat, Napoleon concentrated his forces on their left, the strongest part of his enemy. In a very short time the allies were driven back into the canals and lakes of the country, and many men and nearly all CAMPAIGN OF 1805’ 169 the artillery lost. Before night the routed enemy had fallen back to Austerlitz. Of all Napoleon’s battles, Austerlitz was the one of which he was the proudest. It was here that he showed best the “divine side of war.” The familiar note in which Napoleon announced to his brother Joseph the result of the battle, is a curious contrast to the oratorical bulletins which for some days flowed to Paris. His letter is dated Austerlitz, December 3, 1805: “ After manoeuvring for a few days I fought a decisive battle yester- day. I defeated the combined armies commanded by the Emperors of Russia and Germany. Their force consisted of eighty thousand Rus- sians and thirty thousand Austrians. I have made forty thousand prisoners, taken forty flags, one hundred guns, and all the standards of the Russian Imperial Guard. . Although I have bivouacked in the open air for a week, my health is good. This evening I am in bed in the beautiful castle of Monsieur de Kaunitz, and have changed my shirt for the first time in eight days.” The battle of Austerlitz obliged Austria to make peace(the treaty was signed at Presburg on December 26, 1805), com- pelled Russia to retiredisabled from the field, transformed the haughty Prussian ultimatim which had just been presented into humble submission, and changed the rejoicings of England over the magnificent naval victory of Trafalgar (October 21st) into despair. It even killed Pitt. Napoleon it enabled to make enormous strides in establishing a kingdom of the West. Naples was given to Joseph, the Bavarian Republic was made a kingdom for Louis, and the states between the Lahn, the Rhine, and the Upper Danube were formed into a league, called the Confederation of the Rhine, and Napoleon was made Protector. At the beginning of 1806 Napoleon was again in Paris. He had been absent but three months. Eight months of this year were spent in fruitless negotiations with England and in an irritating correspondence with Prussia. The latter TOUS PuoUIpY IndisuoJ JO UOTzDdTJOD vy} UT JaTUOSSIay Aq ainyzoId aq} 41915V ‘VNGf 4O ATLiva “gogi 170 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 171 country had many grievances against Napoleon, the sum of them all being that “ French politics had been the scourge of humanity for the last fifteen years,” and that an “ in- satiable ambition was still the ruling passion of France.” By the end of September war was declared, and Napoleon, whose preparations had been conducted secretly, it being given out that he was going to Compiégne to hunt, suddenly joined his army. The first week of October the Grand Army advanced from southern Germany towards the valley of the Saale. This movement brought them on the flanks of the Prussians, who: were scattered along the upper Saale. The unexpected ap- pearance of the French army, which was larger and much better organized than the Prussians, caused the latter to retreat towards the Elbe. The retreating army was in two divisions; the first crossing the Saale to Jena, the second falling back towards the Unstrut. As soon as Napoleon understood these movements he despatched part of his force under Davoust and Bernadotte to cut off the retreat of the second Prussian division, while he himself hurried on to Jena to force battle on the first. The Prussians were en- camped at the foot of a height known as the Landgrafen- berg: To command this height was to command the Prus- sian forces. By a series of determined and repeated efforts Napoleon reached the position desired, .and by the morning of the 14th of October had his foes in his power. Ad- vancing from the Landgrafenberg in three divisions, he turned the Prussian flanks at the same moment that he at- tacked their centre. The Prussians never fought better, perhaps, than at Jena. The movements of their cavalry awakened even Napoleon’s admiration, but they were sur- rounded and outnumbered, and the army was speedily broken into pieces and driven into a retreat. -While Napoleon was fighting at Jena, to the right at 172 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Auerstadt, Davoust was engaging Brunswick and _ his seventy thousand men with a force of twenty-seven thous- sand. In spite of the great difference in numbers the Prus- sians were unable to make any impression on the French; and Brunswick falling, they began to retreat towards Jena, expecting to join the other division of the army, of whose route they were ignorant. The result was frightful. The two flying armies suddenly encountered each other, and, pursued by the French on either side, were driven in con- fusion towards the Elbe. On October 25th the French were at Berlin. Their entry was one of the great spectacles of the campaign. One par- ticularly interesting incident was the visit paid to Napoleon by the Protestant and Calvinist French clergy. There were at that time twelve thousand French refugees in Berlin, victims of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. They were received with kindness by Napoleon, who told them they had good right to protection, and that their privileges and wor- ship should be respected. Jena brought Napoleon something like one hundred and sixty million francs in money, an enormous number of prisoners, guns, and standards, the glory of the entry of Berlin, and a great number of interesting articles for the Napoleon Museum of Paris, among them the column from the field of Rosbach, the sword, the ribbon of the black eagle, and the general’s sash of Frederick the Great, and the flags carried by his guards during the Seven Years’ War. But it did not secure him peace. The King of Prussia threw himself into the arms of Russia, and Napoleon advanced boldly into Poland to meet his enemy. The Poles welcomed the French with joy. They hoped to find in Napoleon the liberator of their country, and they poured forth money and soldiers to reénforce him. ‘ Our entry into Varsovia,’ wrote Napoleon, “was a triumph, CAMPAIGN OF 1805 173 and the sentiments that the Poles of all classes show since our arrival cannot be expressed. Love of country and the national sentiment are not only entirely conserved in the heart of the people, but it has been intensified by misfor- tune. Their first passion, their first desire, is again to be- come a nation. The rich come from their chateaux, praying for the reéstablishment of the nation, and. offering their children, their fortunes, and their influence.” Everything was done during the months the French remained in Poland, to flatter and aid the army. The campaign against the Russians was carried on in Old Prussia, to the southeast of the Gulf of Dantzic. Its first great engagement was the battle of Eylau on February 8, 1807. This was the closest drawn battle Napoleon had ever fought. His loss was enormous, and he was saved only by a hair’s-breadth from giving the enemy the field of battle. After Eylau the main army went into winter quar- ters to repair its losses, while Marshal Lefebvre besieged Dantzic, a siege which military critics declare to be, after Sebastopol, the most celebrated of modern times. Dantzic capitulated in May. On June 14th the battle of Friedland was fought. This battle on the anniversary of Marengo, was won largely by Napoleon’s taking advantage of a blunder of his opponent. The French and the Russian armies were on the opposite banks of the Alle. Benningsen, the Russian commander, was marching towards Konigsberg by the east- ern bank. Napoleon was pursuing by the western bank. The French forces, however, were scattered; and Benning- sen, thinking that he could engage and easily rout a portion of the army by crossing the river at Friedland, suddenly led his army across to the western bank. Napoleon utilized this unwise movement with splendid skill. Calling up his re-enforcements he attacked the enemy solidly. As soon as the Russian centre was broken, defeat was inevitable, for MEETING OF FREDERICK WILLIAM III,, KING OF PRUSSIA, EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, AT TILSIT. NAPOLEON, AND ALEXANDER Tey THE FIGURE ON THE LEFT IS FREDERICK WILLIAM ; THAT ON THE RIGHT IS ALEXANDER. Engraved by Giigel, after a drawing by Wolff. The meeting occurred June 26, 1807, in the pavilion which had been erected for that purpose on the River Nieman 174 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 175 the retreating army was driven into the river, and thou- sands lost.. Many were pursued through the streets of Friedland by the French, and slaughtered there. The battle was hardly over when Napoleon wrote to Josephine: “ FRIEDLAND, 15th June, 1807. “My Dear: I write you only a few words, for I am very tired. T have been bivouacking for several days. My children have worthily celebrated the anniversary of Marengo. The battle of Friedland will be just as celebrated and as glorious for my people. The whole Russian army routed, eighty guns captured, thirty thousand men taken prisoners or killed, with twenty-five generals; the Russian guard annihilated; it is the worthy sister of Marengo, Austerlitz, and Jena. The bulletin will tell you the rest. My loss is not large. I successfully out-manceuvred the enemy. “ NAPOLEON.” Friedland ended the war. Directly after the battle Na- poleon went to Tilsit, which for the time was made neutral. ground, and here he met the Emperor of. Russia and the King of Prussia, and the map of Europe was made over. The relations between the royal parties seem to have been for the most part amiable. Napoleon became very fond of ‘Alexander I. at Tilsit. ‘‘ Were he a woman I think I should make love to him,” he wrote Josephine once. Alexander, young and enthusiastic, had a deep admiration for Na- poleon’s genius, and the two became good comrades. The King of Prussia, overcome by his losses, was a sorrowful figure in their company. It was their habit at Tilsit to go ‘out every day on horseback, but the king was awkward, ‘always crowding against Napoleon; beside whom he rode, and making his two companions wait for him to climb from the saddle when he returned. Their dinners together were dull, and the emperors, very much in the style of two care- less, fun-loving youths, bored by a solemn elderly relative, were accustomed after dinner to make excuses to go home early but later to meet at the apartments of one or the other, and to talk together until after midnight. NAPOLEON RECEIVING QUEEN LOUISE OF PRUSSIA, JULY 6, 1807. By Gosse. Versailles gallery. 176 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 177 Just before the negotiation were completed, Queen Louise arrived, and tried to use her influence with Napoleon to obtain at least Magdeburg. Napoleon accused the queen to Las Cases of trying to win him at first by a scene of high tragedy. But when they came to meet at dinner, her policy was quite another. ‘‘ The Queen of Prussia dined with me to-day,” wrote Napoleon to the empress on July 7th. “I had to defend myself against being obliged to make some further concessions to her husband; . . . ” and the next day, “The Queen of Prussia is really charming; she is full of coquetterie towards me. But do not be jealous; I am an oilcloth, off which all that runs. It would cost me too dear to play the galant.” The intercessions of the queen really hurried on the treaty. When she learned that it had been signed, and her wishes not granted, she was indignant, wept bitterly, and refused to go to the second dinner to which Napoleon had invited her. Alexander was obliged to go himself to decide her. After the dinner, when she withdrew, Napoleon accom- panied her. On the staircase she stopped. “Can it be,” she said, “that after I have had the happi- ness of seeing so near me the man of the age and of history, I am not to have the liberty and satisfaction of assuring him that he has attached me for life? . . .” “ Madame, I am to be pitied,” said the emperor gravely. “Tt is my evil star.” By the treaty of Tilsit the map of the continent was trans- formed. Prussia lost half her territory. Dantzic was made a free town. Magdeburg went to France. Hesse-Cassel and the Prussian possessions west of the Elbe went to form the kingdom of Westphalia. The King of Saxony received the grand duchy of Warsaw. Finland and the Danubian principalities were to go to Alexander in exchange for cer- tain Ionian islands and the Gulf of Cattaro in Dalmatia. 178 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Of far more importance than this change of boundaries was the private understanding which the emperors came to at Tilsit. They agreed that the Ottoman Empire was to re- main as it was unless they saw fit to change its boundaries, Russia might occupy the principalities as far as the Danube. Peace was to be made, if possible, with England, and the two powers were to work together to bring it about. If they failed, Russia was to force Sweden to close her ports to Great Britain, and Napoleon was to do the same in Den- mark, Portugal, and the States of the Pope. Nothing was to be dorie about Poland by Napoleon. According to popular belief, the secret treaty of Tilsit in- cluded plans much more startling: the two emperors pledged themselves to drive the Bourbons from Spain and the Bra- ganzas from Portugal, and to replace them by Bonapartes; give Russia Turkey in Europe and as much of Asia as she wanted; end the temporal power of the Pope; place France in Egypt; shut the English from the Mediterranean; and to undertake several other equally ambitious enterprises. CHAPTER XIII EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE—FAMILY AFFAIRS zenith. He was literally “king of kings,” as he was popularly called, and the Bonaparte family was rapidly displacing the Bourbon. Joseph had been made King of Naples in 1806. Eliza was Princess of Lucques and Piombino. Louis, married to Hortense, had been King of Holland since 1806. Pauline had been the Princess Bor- ghese since 1803; Caroline, the wife of Murat, was Grand Duchess of Cleves and Berg; Jerome was King of West- phalia; Eugéne de Beauharnais, Viceroy of Italy, was mar- ried to a princess of Bavaria. The members of Napoleon’s family were elevated only on condition that they act strictly in accordance with his plans. They must marry so as to cement the ties necessary to his kingdom. They must arrange their time, form their friend- ships, spend their money, as it best served the interests of his great scheme of conquest. The interior affairs of their kingdoms were in reality centralized in his hands as perfectly as those of France. He watched the private and public con- duct of his kings and nobles, and criticised them with ab- solute frankness and extraordinary common sense. The ground on which he protected them is well explained:in the following letter, written in January, 1806, to Count Miot de Mélito: “You are going to rejoin my brother. You will tell him that I have made him King of Naples; that he will continue to be Grand Elector, 179 N APOLEON’S influence in Europe was now at its JOSEPH RONAPARTE IN HIS CORONATION ROBES. 1808. Engraved by C. S. Pradier in 1813, after Gérard. EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE _ 181 and that nothing will be changed as regards his relations with France. But impress upon him that the least hesitation, the slightest wavering, will ruin him entirely. I have another person in my mind who will re- place him should he refuse. . . . At present all feelings of affection yield to state reasons. I recognize only those who serve me as relations. My fortune is not attached to the name of Bonaparte, but to that of Na- poleon. -It is with my fingers and with my pen that I make children. To-day I can love only those whom I esteem. Joseph must forget all our ties of childhood. Let him make himself esteemed. Let him ac- quire glory. Let him have a leg broken in battle. Then I shall esteem him. Let him give up his old ideas. Let him not dread fatigue. Look at me: the campaign I have just terminated, the movement, the ex- citement, have made me stout. I believe that if all the kings of Europe were to coalesce against me, I should have a ridiculous paunch.” Joseph, bent on being a great king, boasted now and then to Napoleon of his position in Naples. His brother never failed to silence him with the truth, if it was blunt and hard to digest. “When you talk about the fifty thousand enemies of the queen, you make me laugh. . . . You exaggerate the degree of hatred which the queen has left behind at Naples: you do not know mankind. There are not twenty persons who hate her as you suppose, and there are not twenty persons who would not surrender to one of her smiles. The strongest feeling of hatred on the part of a nation is that inspired by an- other nation. Your fifty thousand men are the enemies of the French.” With Jerome, Napoleon had been particularly incensed because of his marriage with Miss Patterson. In 1804 he wrote of that affair: “| Jerome is wrong to think that he will be able to count upon any weakness on my part, for, not having the rights of a father, I cannot entertain for him the feeling of a father; a father allows himself to be blinded, and it pleases him to be blinded because he identifies his son with himself. . . . But what am I to Jerome? Sole instrument of my destiny, I owe nothing to my brothers. They have made an abun- dant harvest out of what I have accomplished in the way of glory; but for all that, they must not abandon the field and deprive me of the aid I have a right to expect from them. They will cease to be anything for me, directly they take a road opposed to mine. If I exact so much from my brothers who have already rendered many services, if I have aban- JEROME BONAPARTE. 1808. “Engraved by I. G. Miller, knight, and Frederich Miller, son, engravers to his majesty the King of Wutrtemberg. After a design made at Cassel by Madame Kinson.” 182 EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 183 doned the one who, in mature age [Lucien], refused to follow my advice, what must not Jerome, who is still young, and who is known only for his neglect of duty, expect? If he does nothing for me, I shall see in this the decree of destiny, which has decided that I shall do nothing for him. ee Jerome yielded later to his brother’s wishes, and in 1807 was rewarded with the new kingdom of Westphalia. Napo- leon kept close watch of him, however, and his letters are full of admirable counsels. The following is particularly valu- able, showing, as it does, that Napoleon believed a govern- ment would be popular and enduring only in proportion to the liberty and prosperity it gave the citizens. “ What the German peoples desire with impatience [he told Jerome], is that persons who are not of noble birth, and-who have talents, shall have an equal right to your consideration and to public employment (with those who are of noble birth) ; that every sort of servitude and of intermediate obligations between the sovereign and the lowest class of the people should be entirely abolished. The benefits of the Code Na- poleon, the publicity of legal procedure, the establishment of the jury system, will be the distinctive characteristics of your monarchy. I count more on the effect of these benefits for the extension and strengthening of your kingdom, than upon the result of the greatest victories. Your people ought to enjoy a liberty, an equality, a well- being, unknown to the German peoples. . . What people would wish to return to the arbitrary government of Prussia, when it has tasted the benefits of a wise and liberal administration? The peoples of Germany, France, Italy, Spain, desire equality, and demand that liberal ideas should prevail. . . . Be a constitutional king.” Louis in Holland was never a king to Napoleon’s mind. He especially disliked his quarrels with his wife. In 1807 Napoleon wrote Louis, apropos of his domestic relations, a letter which is a good example of scores of others he sent to one and another of his kings and princes about their pri- vate affairs. “You govern that country too much like a Capuchin. The goodness of a king should be full of majesty. . . A king orders, and asks nothing from any one. ‘ When eople say of a king that he is good, his reign is a failure. . . . Your quarrels with the queen are MARIE PAULINE BONAPARTE, PRINCESS BORGIIESE. This graceful portrait of the most heautiful of Napoleon’s sisters, is frem the brush of Madame Benoit, and belongs to the Versailles coilection. EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 185 known to the public. You should exhibit at home that paternal and ef- feminate character you show in your manner of governing. . . . You treat a young wife as you would command a regiment. Distrust the people by whom you are surrounded; they are nobles. . . . You have the best and most virtuous of wives, and you render her miserable. Al- low her to dance as much as she likes; it is in keeping with her age. I have a wife who is forty years of age; from the field of battle I write to her to go to balls, and you wish a young woman of twenty to live in a cloister, or, like a nurse, to be always washing her children. . . . Render the mother of your children happy. You have only one way of doing so, by showing her esteem and confidence. Unfortunately you have a wife who is too virtuous: if you had a coquette, she would lead you by the nose. But you have a proud wife, who is offended and grieved at the mere idea that you can have a bad opinion of her. You should have had a wife like some of those whom I know in Paris. She would have played you false, and you would have been at her feet. . . . “* NAPOLEON.” With his sisters he was quite as positive. While Josephine adapted herself with grace and tact to her great position, the Bonaparte sisters, especially Pauline, were constantly irritating somebody by their vanity and jealousy. The following letter to Pauline shows how little Napoleon spared them when their performances came to his ears: “ MapAME AND Dear SISTER: I have learned with pain that you have not the good sense to conform to the manners and customs of the city of Rome; that you show contempt for the inhabitants, and that your eyes are unceasingly turned towards Paris. Although occupied with vast affairs, I nevertheless desire to make known my wishes, and I hope that you will conform to them. “T Jove your husband and his family, be amiable, accustom yourself to the usages of Rome, and put this in your head: that if you follow bad advice you will no longer be able to count upon me. You may be sure that you will find no support in Paris, and that I shall never recetye you there without your husband. If you quarrel with him, it will be your fault, and France will be closed to you. You will sacrifice your happiness and my esteem. nF “ BONAPARTE.” This supervision of policy, relations, and conduct extended to his generals. The case of General Berthier is one to the GRAND DUCHESS OF TUSCANY, ELDEST SISTER OF NAPOLEON ELISA BACCIOCHI, (1777-1820). Engraved by Morghen in 1814, after Counis. 186 EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 187 point. Chief of Napoleon’s staff in Italy, he had fallen in love at Milan with a Madame Visconti, and had never been able to conquer his passion. In Egypt Napoleon called him “chief of the lovers’ faction,” that part of the army which, because of their desire to see wives or sweethearts, were con- stantly revolting against the campaign, and threatening to desert. In 1804 Berthier had been made marshal, and in 1806 Napoleon wished to give him the princedom of Neufchatel; but it was only on condition that he give up Madame de Visconti, and marry. “T exact only one condition, which is that you get married. Your passion has lasted long enough. It has become ridiculous; and I have the right to hope that the man whom I have called my companion in arms, who will be placed alongside of me by posterity, will no longer abandon himself to a weakness without example. . . . You know that no one likes you better than I do, but you know also that the first condition of my friendship is that it must be made subordinate to my esteem.” Berthier fled to Josephine for help, weeping like a child; but she could do nothing, and he married the woman chosen for him. Three months after the ceremony, the husband of Madame de Visconti died and Berthier, broken-hearted, wrote to the Prince Borghese: “You know how often the emperor pressed me to obtain a divorce for Madame de Visconti. But a divorce was always repugnant to the feel- ings in which I was educated, and therefore I waited. To-day Madame de Visconti is free, and I might have been the happiest of men. But the emperor forced me into a marriage which hinders me from uniting myself to the only woman I ever loved. Ah, my dear prince, all that the emperor has done and may yet do for me, will be no compensation for the eternal misfortunes to which he has condemned me.” Never was Napoleon more powerful than at the end of the period we have been tracing so rapidly, never had he so looked the emperor. An observer who watched him through 188 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the Te Deum sung at Notre Dame in his honor, on his re- turn from Tilsit, says: ‘‘ His features, always calm and serious, recalled the cameos which represent the Roman emperors. He was small; still his whole person, in this imposing ceremony, was in harmony with the part he was playing. A sword glittering with precious stones was at his side, and the glittering diamond called the “ Regent” formed its pommel. Its brilliancy did not let us forget that this sword was the sharpest and the most victorious that the world had seen since those of Alexander and Cesar.” Certainly he never worked more prodigiously. The campaigns of 1805-1807 were, in spite of their rapid move- ment,—indeed, because of it,—terribly fatiguing for him; © ~ that they were possible at all was due mainly to the fact that they had been made on paper so many times in his study. When he was consul the only room opening from his study was filled with enormous maps of all the countries of the world. This room was presided over by a competent cartographer. Frequently these maps were brought to the study and spread upon the floor. Napoleon would get down upon them on all fours, and creep about, compass and red pencil in hand, comparing and measuring distances, and studying the configuration of the land. If he was in doubt about anything, he referred it to his librarian, who was ‘ex- pected to give him the fullest details. Attached to his cabinet were skilful translators, whose business was not only to translate diplomatic correspond- ence, but to gather from foreign sources full information about the armies of his enemies. Meéneval declares that the emperor knew the condition of foreign armies as well as he did that of his own. The amount of information he had about other lands was largely due to his ability to ask questions. When he sent to an agent for a report, he rattled at him a volley of ques: EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE _ 189 tions, always to the point; and the agent knew that it would never do to let one go unanswered. While carrying on the Austrian and Prussian campaigns of 1805-1807, Napoleon showed, as never before, his extra- ordinary capacity for attending to everything. The number of despatches he sent out was incredible. In the first three months of 1807, while he was in Poland, he wrote over seventeen hundred letters and despatches. It was not simply war, the making of kingdoms, the direc- tions of his new-made kings; minor affairs of the greatest variety occupied him. While at Boulogne, tormented by the failure of the English invasion and the war against Austria, he ordered that horse races should be established “in those parts of the empire the most remarkable for the horses they breed ; prizes shall be awarded to the fleetest horses.” The very day after the battle of Friedland, he was sending orders to Paris about the form and site of a statue to the memory of the Bishop of Vannes. He criticised from Poland the quarrels of Parisian actresses, ordered canals, planned there for the Bourse and the Odeon Theatre. The newspapers he watched as he did when in Paris, reprimanded this editor, suspended that, forbade the publication of news of disasters to the French navy, censured every item honorable to his enemies. To read the bulletines issued from Jena to Fried- land, one would believe that the writer had no business other than that of regulating the interior affairs of France. This care of details went, as Pasquier says, to the “ point of minuteness, or, to speak plainly, to that of charlatanism; ” but it certainly did produce a deep impression upon France. That he could establish himself five hundred leagues from Paris, in the heart of winter, in a country encircled by his enemies, and yet be in daily communication with his capital, could direct even its least important affairs as if he were present, could know what every person of influence, from 190 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the Secretary of State to the humblest newspaper man, was doing, caused a superstitious feeling to rise in France, and in all Europe, that the emperor of the French people was not only omnipotent, but omnipresent. CHAPTER XIV THE BERLIN DECREE—WAR IN THE PENINSULA —THE BONAPARTES ON THE SPANISH THRONE \ J) HEN Napoleon, in 1805, was obliged to abandon the descent on England and turn the magnifi- cent army gathered at Boulogne against Austria, he by no means gave up the idea of one day humbling his enemy. Persistently throughout the campaigns of 1805- 1807 his despatches and addresses remind Frenchmen that vengeance is only deferred. In every way he strives to awaken indignation aud hatred against England. The alliance which has compelled him to turn his armies against his neighbors on the Continent, he characterizes as an ‘‘ unjust league fomented by the hatred and gold of England.” He tells the soldiers of the Grand Army that it is English gold which has transported the Russian army from the extremities of the universe to fight them. He charges the horrors of Austerlitz upon the Eng- lish. “ May all the blood shed, may all these misfortunes, fall upon the perfidious islanders who have caused them! May the cowardly oligarchies of London support the con- sequences of so many woes!” From now on, all the treaties he makes are drawn up with a view to humbling “ the eternal enemies of the Continent.” Negotiation for peace went on, it is true, in 1806, between the two countries. Napoleon offered to return Hanover and Malta: ~ He offered several things which belonged to other people, but England refused all of his combinations; 193 THE QUEEN UF NAPLES AND MARIE _By Madame Vigée-Leb - This canva: Versaille Carolin f s repre iia Josc¢phe Murat, afterwards Countess P 5 uted in 1807, is in the museum Ser with her eldest child, Marie 192 THE BERLIN DECREE 193 and when, a few days after Jena, he addressed his army, it was to tell them: ‘‘ We shall not lay down our arms until we have obliged the English, those eternal enemies of our nation, to renounce their plan of troubling the Continent and their tyranny of the seas.” A month later—November 21, 1806—he proclaimed the famous Decree of Berlin, his future policy towards Great Britain. As she had shut her enemies from the sea, he would shut her from the land. The “ continental blockade,” as this struggle of land against sea was called, was only using Eng- land’s own weapon of war; but it was using it with a sweep- ing audacity, thoroughly Napoleonic in conception and in the proposed execution. Henceforth, all communication was forbidden between the British Isles and France and her allies. Every Englishman found under French authority—and that was about all the Continent as the emperor estimated it —was a prisoner of war. Every dollar’s worth of English property found within Napoleon’s boundaries, whether it belonged to rich trader or inoffensive tourist, was prize of war. If one remembers the extent of the seaboard which Napoleon at that moment commanded, the full peril of this: menace to English commerce is clear. From St. Petersburg to Trieste there was not a port, save those of Denmark and Portugal, which would not close at his bidding. At Tilsit he and Alexander had entered into an agreement to complete this seaboard, to close the Baltic, the Channel, the European Atlantic, and the Mediterranean to the English. This was nothing else than asking Continental Europe to destroy her commerce for their sakes. There were several serious uncertainties in the scheme. What retaliation would England make? Could Napoleon and Alexander agree long enough to succeed in dividing the valuable portions of the continents of Europe, Asia, and Africa? Would the nations cheerfully give up the English Ceo? ge JOACHIM MURAT (1771-1815). Engraved by Ruotte, after Gros. 194 THE BERLIN DECREE 195 cottons and tweeds they had been buying, the boots they had been wearing, the cutlery and dishes they had been using? Would they cheerfully see their own products lie uncalled for in their warehouses, for the sake of aiding a foreign monarch—although the most brilliant and powerful on earth—to carry out a vast plan for crushing an enemy who was not their enemy? It remained to be seen. In the meantime there was the small part of the coast line remaining independent to be joined to the portion already blockaded to the English. There was no delay in Napoleon’s action. Denmark was ordered to choose between war with England and war with France. Portugal was notified that if her ports were not closed in forty days the French and Spanish armies would invade her. England gave a drastic reply to Napoleon’s measures. In August she appeared be- ‘fore Copenhagen, seized the Danish fleet, and for three days bombarded the town. This unjustifiable attack on a nation with which she was at peace horrified Europe, and it sup- ported the emperor in pushing to the uttermost the Berlin Decree. He made no secret of his determination. In a diplomatic audience at Fontainebleau, October 14, 1807, he declared : “Great Britain shall be destroyed. I have the means of doing it, and they shall be employed. I have three hundred thousand men devoted to this object, and an ally who has three hundred thousand to support them. I will permit no nation to receive a minister from Great Britain until she shall have renounced her maritime usages and tyranny; and I desire you, gentlemen, to convey this determination to your respective sovereigns.” Such an alarming extent did the blockade threaten to take, that even our minister to France, Mr. Armstrong, began to be nervous. His diplomatic acquaintances told him cyn- ically, “ You are much favored, but it won’t last;” and, in fact, it was not long before it was evident that the United 196 LIFE OF NAPOLEON States was not to be allowed to remain neutral. Napoleon’s notice to Mr. Armstrong was clear and decisive: “Since America suffers her vessels to be searched, she adopts the principle that the flag does not cover the goods. Since she recognizes the absurd blockades laid by England, consents to having her vessels incessantly stopped, sent to England, and so turned aside from their course, why should the Americans not suffer the blockade laid by France? Certainly France is no more blockaded by England than England by France. Why should Americans not equally suffer their vessels to be searched by French ships? Certainly France recognizes that these measures are unjust, illegal, and subversive of national sovereignty; but it is the duty of nations to resort to force, and to declare them- selves against things which dishonor them and disgrace their independence.” The attempt to force Portugal to close her ports caused war. In all but one particular she had obeyed Napoleon’s orders: she had closed her ports, detained all Englishmen in her borders, declared war; but her king refused to con- fiscate the property of British subjects in Portugal. This evasion furnished Napoleon an excuse for refusing to be- lieve in the sincerity of her pretensions. ‘“‘ Continue your march,” he wrote to Junot, who had been ordered into the country a few days before (October 12, 1807). “I have reason to believe that there is an understanding with Eng- land, so as to give the British troops time to arrive from Copenhagen.” Without waiting for the results of the invasion, he and the King of Spain divided up Portugal between them. If their action was premature, Portugal did nothing to gainsay them; for when Junot arrived at Lisbon in December, he found the country without a government, the royal family having fled in fright to Brazil. There was only one thing now to be done; Junot must so establish himself as to hold the country against the English, who naturally would re- sent the injury done their ally. From St. Petersburg to Trieste, Napoleon now held the seaboard. THE BERLIN DECREE 197 But he was not satisfied. Spain was between him and Portugal. If he was going to rule Western Europe he ought to possess her. There is no space here to trace the intrigues with the weak and vicious factions of the Spanish court, which ended in Napoleon’s persuading Charles IV. to cede his rights to the Spanish throne and to become his pensioner, and Ferdinand, the heir apparent, to abdicate; and which placed Joseph Bonaparte, King of Naples, on the Spanish throne, and put Murat, Charlotte Bonaparte’s hus- band, in Joseph’s place. From beginning to end the transfer of the Spanish crown from Bourbon to Bonaparte was dishonorable and unjustifi- able. It is true that the government of Spain was corrupt. No greater mismanagement could be conceived, no more scandalous court. Unquestionably the country would have been far better off under Napoleonic institutions. But to despoil Spain was to be false to an ally which had served him for years with fidelity, and at an awful cost to herself. It is true that her service had been through fear, not love. It is true that at one critical moment (when Napoleon was in Poland, in 1807) she had tried to escape; but, neverthe- less, it remained a fact that for France Spain had lost colo- nies, sacrificed men and money, and had seen her fleet go down at Trafalgar. In taking her throne, Napoleon had none of the excuses which had justified him in interfering in Italy, in Germany, in Holland, in Switzerland. This was not a conquest of war, not confiscation on account of the perfidy of an ally, not an attempt to answer the prayers of a people for a more liberal government. If Spain had submitted to the change, she would have been purchasing good government at the price of national honor. But Spain did not submit. She, as well as all disin- terested lookers-on in Europe, was revolted by the baseness of the deed. No one has ever explained better the feeling 198 LIFE OF NAPOLEON which the intrigues over the Spanish throne caused than Napoleon himself: “T confess I embarked badly in the affair [he told Las Cases at St. Helena]. The immorality of it was too patent, the injustice far too cynical, and the whole thing too villainous; hence I failed. The attempt is seen now only in its hideous nudity, stripped of all that is grand, of all the numerous benefits which I intended. Posterity would have extolled it, however, if I had succeeded, and rightly, per- haps, because of its great and happy results.” It was the Spanish people themselves, not the ruling house, who resented the transfer from Bourbon to Bona- parte. No sooner was it noised through Spain that the Bourbons had really abdicated, and Joseph Bonaparte had been named king, than an insurrection was organized simultaneously all over the country. Some eighty-four thousand French troops were scattered through the Peninsula, but they were power- less before the kind of warfare which now began. Every defile became a battle-ground, every rock hid a peasant, armed and waiting for French stragglers, messengers, supply parties. The remnant of the French fleets escaped from Trafalgar, and now at Cadiz, was forced to surrender. Twenty-five thousand French soldiers laid down their arms at Baylen, but the Spaniards refused to keep their capitula- tion treaties. The prisoners were tortured by the peasants in the most barbarous fashion, crucified, burned, sawed asunder. Those who escaped the popular vengeance were sent to the Island of Cabrera, where they lived in the most abject fashion. It was only in 1814 that the remnant of this army was released. King Joseph was obliged to flee to Vit- toria a week after he reached his capital. The misfortunes of Spain were followed by greater ones in Portugal. Junot was defeated by an English army at Vimeiro in August, 1808, and capitulated on condition that his army be taken back to France without being disarmed. CHAPTER XV DISASTER IN SPAIN—-ALEXANDER AND NAPOLEON IN COUN- CIL—-NAPOLEON AT MADRID APOLEON amazed at this unexpected popular up- N rising in Spain, and angry that the spell of invinci- bility under which his armies had fought, was broken, resolved to undertake the Peninsular war himself. But before a campaign in Spain could be entered upon, it was necessary to know that all the inner and outer wheels of the great machine he had devised for dividing the world and crushing England were revolving perfectly. Since the treaty of Tilsit he had done much at home for this machine. The finances were in splendid condition. Public works of great importance were going on all over the kingdom; the court was luxurious and brilliant, and the money it scattered, encouraged the commercial and ‘manu- facturing classes. Never had fétes been more brilliant than those which welcomed Napoleon back to Paris in 1807; never had the season at Fontainebleau been gayer or more magnificent than it was that year. All of those who had been instrumental in bringing pros- perity and order to France were rewarded in 1807 with splendid gifts from the indemnities levied on the enemies. The marshals of the Grand Army received from eighty thousand to two hundred thousand dollars apiece; twenty- five generals were given forty thousand dollars each; the civil functionaries were not forgotten; thus Monsieur de Ségur received forty thousand dollars as a sign of the em- 199 200 LIFE OF NAPOLEON peror’s gratification at the way he had administered etiquette in the young court. It was at this period that Napoleon founded a new nobility as a further means of rewarding those who had rendered brilliant services to France. This institution was designed, too, as a means of reconciling old and new France. It created the title of prince, duke, count, baron, and knight; and those receiving these titles were at the same time given domains in the conquered provinces, sufficient to permit them to establish themselves in good style. The drawing up of the rules which were to govern this new order occupied the gravest men of the country, Cam- bacérés, Saint-Martin, Hauterive, Portalis, Pasquier. Among other duties they had to prepare the armorial bear- ings. Napoleon refused to allow the crown to go on the new escutcheons. He wished no one but himself to have a right to use that symbol. A substitute was found in the panache, the number of plumes showing the rank. Napoleon used the new favors at his command freely, creating in all, after 1807, forty-eight thousand knights, one thousand and ninety barons, three hundred and eighty-eight counts, thirty-one dukes, and three princes. All members of the old nobility who were supporting his government were given titles, but not, those which they formerly held. Naturally this often led to great dissatisfaction, the bearers of ancient names preferring a lower rank which had been their family’s for centuries to one higher, but unhallowed by time and tradition. Thus Madame de Montmorency re- belled obstinately against being made a countess,—she had been a baroness under the old régime,— and, as the Mont- morencys claimed the honor of being called the first Chris- tian barons, she felt justly that the old title was a far prouder one than any Napoleon could give her. But a countess she had to remain. § DISASTER IN SPAIN 201 In his efforts to win for himself the services of all those whom blood and fortune had made his natural supporters, the emperor tried again to reconcile Lucien. In November, 1807, Napoleon visited Italy, and at Mantua a secret inter- view took place between the brothers. Lucien, in his “ Me- moirs,” gives a dramatic description of the way in which Napoleon spread the kingdoms of half a world before him and offered him his choice. “He struck a great blow with his hand in the middle of the im- mense map of Europe which was extended on the table, by the side of which we were standing. ‘Yes, choose,’ he said; “you see I am not talking in the air. All this is mine, or will soon belong to me; I can dispose of it already. Do you want Naples? I will take it from Joseph, who, by the by, does not care for it; he prefers Mortefontaine. Italy—the most beautiful jewel in my imperial crown? Eugéne is but viceroy, and, far from despising it. he hopes only that I shall give it to him, or, at least, leave it to him if he survives me; he is likely to be disappointed in waiting, for I shall live ninety years. I must, for the perfect consolidation of my empire. Besides, Eugéne will not suit me in Italy after his mother is divorced. Spain? Do you not see it falling into the hollow of my hand, thanks to the blunders of my dear Bourbons, and to the follies of your friend, the Prince of Peace? Would you not be well pleased to reign there, where you have been only ambassador? Once for all, what do you want? Speak! Whatever you wish, or can wish, is yours, if your divorce precedes mine.’ ” Until midnight the two brothers wrestled with the ques- tion between them. Neither would abandon his position; and when Lucien finally went away, his face was wet with tears. To Méneval, who conducted him to his inn in the town, he said, in bidding him carry his farewell to the em- peror, “It may be forever.” It was not. Seven years later the brothers met again, but the map of Europe was forever rolled up for Napoleon. The essential point in carrying out the Tilsit plan was, the fidelity of Alexander ; and Napoleon resolved, before going into the Spanish war, to meet the Emperor of Russia. ALEXANDER I. OF RUSSIA. 1805. 202 DISASTER IN SPAIN 203 This was the more needful, because Austria had begun to show signs of hostility. The meeting took place in September, 1807, at Erfurt, in Saxony, and lasted a month. Napoleon acted as host, and prepared a splendid entertainment for his guests. The com- pany he had gathered was most brilliant. Beside the Rus- sian and French emperors, with ambassadors and suites, were the Kings of Saxony, Bavaria, and Wiirtemberg, the Prince Primate, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, the Dukes of Saxony, and the Princes of the Confed- eration of the Rhine. The palaces where the emperors were entertained, were furnished with articles from the Garde-Meuble of France. The leading actors of the Théatre Francais gave the best French tragedies to a house where there was, as Napoleon had promised Talma, a “ parterre full of kings.” There was a hare hunt on the battle-field of Jena, to which even Prince William of Prussia was invited, and where the party breakfasted on the spot where Napoleon had bivouacked in 1806, the night before the battle. There were balls where Alexander danced, “but not I,’ wrote the emperor to Jo- sephine; “ forty years are forty years.” Goethe and Wie- land were both presented to Napoleon at Erfurt, and the emperor had long conversations with them. In spite of these gayeties Napoleon and Alexander found time to renew their Tilsit agreement. They were to make war and peace together. Alexander was to uphold Napo- leon in giving Joseph the throne of Spain, and to keep the continent tranquil during the Peninsular war. Napo- leon was to support Alexander in getting possession of Fin- land, Moldavia, and Wallachia. The two emperors were to write and sign a letter inviting England to join them in peace negotiations. This was done promptly; but when England insisted that MARSHAL LEFEBYRE, ABOUT 1796. Engraved in 1798 by Tiesinger, after Mengelberg, 204 DISASTER IN SPAIN 205 representatives of the government which was acting in. Spain in the name of Ferdinand VII. should be admitted to the proposed meeting, the peace negotiations abruptly ended. Under the circumstances Napoleon could not recognize that government. The emperor was ready to conduct the Spanish war. His first move was to send into the country a large body of vet- erans from Germany. Before this time the army had been made up of young recruits upon whom the Spanish looked with contempt. The men, inexperienced and demoralized by the kind of guerrilla warfare which was waged against them, had become discouraged. The worst feature of their case was that they did not believe in the war. That brave story-teller Marbot relates frankly how he felt: * As a soldier I was bound to fight any one who attacked the French army, but I could not help recognizing in my inmost conscience that our cause was a bad one, and that the Spaniards were quite right in trying to drive out strangers who, after coming among them in the guise of friends, were wishing to dethrone their sovereign and take forcible possession of the kingdom. This war, therefore. seemed to me wicked; but I was a soldier, and I must march or be charged with cowardice. The greater part of the army thought as I did, and, like me, obeyed orders all the same.” The appearance of the veterans and the presence of the emperor at once put a new face on the war; the morale of the army was raised, and the respect of the Spaniards inspired. The emperor speedily made his way to Madrid, though he had to fight three battles to get there, and began at once a work of reorganization. Decree followed decree. Feudal rights were abolished, the inquisition was ended, the number of convents was reduced, the custom-houses between the various provinces were done away with, a political and mili- tary programme was made out for King Joseph. Many bulletins were sent to the Spanish people. In all of them they were told that it was the English who were their ene- 206 LIFE OF NAPOLEON mies, not their allies; that they came to the Peninsular not to help, but to inspire to false confidence, and to lead them astray. Napoleon’s plan and purpose could not be mistaken. “Spaniards [he proclaimed at Madrid], your destinies are in my hands. Reject the poison which the English have spread among you; let your king be certain of your love and your confidence, and you will be more powerful and happier than ever. I have destroyed all that was opposed to your prosperity and greatness; I have broken the fetters which weighed upon the people; a liberal constitution gives you, instead of an absolute, a tempered and constitutional monarchy. It depends upon you that this constitution shall become law. But if all my efforts prove useless, and if you do not respond to my con- fidence, it will only remain for me to treat you as conquered provinces, and to find my brother another throne. I shall then place the crown of Spain on my own head, and I shall know how to make the wicked tremble; for God has given me the power and the will necessary to surmount all obstacles.” But a flame had been kindled in Spain which no number of Napoleonic bulletins could quench—a fanatical frenzy in- spired by the priests, a blind passion of patriotism. The Spaniards wanted their own, even if it was feudal and oppressive. A constitution which they had been forced to accept, seemed to them odious and shameful, if liberal. The obstinacy and horror of their resistance was nowhere so tragic and so heroic as at the siege of Saragossa, going on at the time Napoleon, at Madrid, was issuing his decrees and proclamations. Saragossa had been fortified when the insurrection against King Joseph broke out. The town was surrounded by convents, which were turned into forts. Men, women, and children took up arms, and the priests, cross in hand, and dagger at the belt, led them. No word of sur- render was tolerated within the walls. At the beginning Napoleon regarded the defence of Saragossa as a small affair, and wished to try persuasion on the people. There was at Paris a well-known Aragon noble whom he urged to go to Saragosa and calm the popular excitement. The man DISASTER IN SPAIN 207 accepted the mission. When he arrived in the town the people hurried forth to meet him, supposing he had come to aid in the resistance. At the first word of submission he spoke he was assailed by the mob, and for nearly a year lay in a dungeon. The peasants of the vicinity of Saragossa were quartered in the town, each family being given a house to defend. Nothing could drive them from their posts. They took an oath to resist until death, and regarded the probable destruc- tion of themselves and their families with stoical indiffer- ence. The priests had so aroused their religious exultation, and were able to sustain it at such a pitch, that they never wavered before the daily horrors they endured. The French at first tried to drive them from their posts by sallies made into the town, but the inhabitants rained such a murderous fire upon them from towers, roofs, win- dows, even the cellars, that they were obliged to retire. Ex- asperated by this stubborn resistance they resolved to blow up the town, inch by inch. The siege was begun in the most. terrible and destructive manner, but the people were un- moved by the danger. ‘“‘ While a house was being mined, and the dull sound of the rammers warned them that death was at hand, not one left the house which he had sworn to defend, and we could hear them singing litanies. Then, at the moment the walls flew into the air and fell back with a crash, crushing the greater part of them, those who had es- caped would collect about the ruins, and sheltering them- selves behind the slightest cover, would recommence their sharpshooting.” Marshal Lannes commanded before Saragossa. Touched by the devotion and the heroism of the defenders, he pro- posed an honorable capitulation. The besieged scorned the proposition, and the awful process of undermining went on until the town was practically blown to pieces. BERNADOTTE. ABOUT 1798, Engraved by Fiesinger, after Guérin. 208 DISASTER IN SPAIN 209 For such resistance there was no end but extermination. For the first time in his career Napoleon had met sublime popular patriotism, a passion before which diplomacy, flat- tery, love of gain, force, lose their power. It was for but a short time that the emperor could give his personal attention to the Spanish war. Certain wheels in his great machine were not revolving smoothly. In his own capital, Paris, there was friction among certain influen- tial persons. The peace of the Continent, necessary to the Peninsular war, and which Alexander had guaranteed, was threatened. Under these circumstances it was impossible to remain in Spain. TIIE EYE OF THE MASTER. After Raffet. CHAPTER XVI TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY—THE CAMPAIGN OF 1809— WAGRAM WO unscrupulous and crafty men, both of singular ability, caused the interior trouble which called Na- poleon from Spain. These men were Talleyrand and Fouché. The latter we saw during the Consulate as Minister of Police. Since, he had been once dismissed be- cause of his knavery, and restored, largely for the same quality. His cunning was too valuable to dispense with. The former, Talleyrand, made Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1799, had handled his negotiations with the extraordinary skill for which he was famous, until, in 1807, Napoleon’s mistrust of his duplicity, and Talleyrand’s own dislike for the details of his position, led to the portfolio being taken from him, and he being made Vice-Grand-Elector. He evidently expected, in accepting this change, to remain as influential as ever with Napoleon. The knowledge that the emperor was dispensing with his services made him resentful, and his de- votion to the imperial cause fluctuated according to the at- tention he received. Now, Napoleon’s course in Spain had been undertaken at the advice of Talleyrand, largely, and he had repeated con- stantly, in the early negotiations, that France ought not to allow a Bourbon to remain enthroned at her borders. Yet, as the affair went on, he began slyly to talk against the enter- prise. At Erfurt, where Napoleon had been impolitic enough to take him, he initiated himself into Alexander’s all 212 LIFE OF NAPOLEON good graces, and prevented Napoleon’s policy towards Aus- tria being carried out. When Napoleon returned to Spain, Talleyrand and Fouché, who up to this time had been ene- mies, became friendly, and even appeared in public, arm in arm. If Talleyrand and Fouché had made up, said the Par- isians, there was mischief brewing. Napoleon was not long in knowing of their reconciliation. He learned more, that the two crafty plotters had written Murat that in the event of “ something happening,” that is, of Napoleon’s death or overthrow, they should organize a movernent to call him to the head of affairs; that, accord- ingly, he must hold himself ready. Napoleon returned to Paris immediately, removed Talley- rand from his position at court, and, at a gathering of high officials, treated him to one of those violent harangues with which he was accustomed to flay those whom he would dis- grace and dismiss. “You are a thief, a coward, a man without honor; you do not believe in God; you have all your life been a traitor to your duties; you have deceived and betrayed everybody ; nothing is sacred to you; you would sell your own father. I have loaded you down with gifts, and there is nothing you would not undertake against me. For the past ten months you have been shameless enough, because you supposed, rightly or wrongly, that my affairs in Spain were going astray, to say to all who would listen to you that you always blamed my under- takings there; whereas it was you yourself who first put it into my head, and who persistently urged it. And that man, that unfortunate [he meant the Duc d’Enghien], by whom was I advised of the place of his residence? Who drove me to deal cruelly with him? What, then, are you aiming at? What do you wish for? What do you hope? Do you dare to say? You deserve that I should smash you like a wine- glass. I can do it, but I despise you too much to take the trouble.” All of this was undoubtedly true, but, after having pub- licly said it, there was but one safe course for Napoleon—to put Talleyrand where he could no longer continue his plot- ting. He made the mistake, however, of leaving him at large. TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY 213 The disturbance of the Continental peace came from Aus- tria. Encouraged by Napoleon’s absence in Spain, and the withdrawal of troops from Germany, and urged by Eng- land to attempt to again repair her losses, Austria had hastily armed herself, hoping to be able to reach the Rhine be- fore Napoleon could collect his forces and meet her. At this moment Napoleon could command about the same number of troops as the Austrians, but they were scat- tered in all directions, while the enemy’s were already consolidated. The question became, then, whether he could get his troops together before the Austrians attacked. From every direction he hurried them across France and Germany towards Ratisbonne. On the 12th of April he heard in Paris that the Austrians had crossed the Inn. On the 17th the emperor was in his headquarters at Donauworth, his army well in hand. “ Neither in ancient or modern times,” says Jomini, “ will one find anything which equals in celerity and admirable precision the opening of this campaign.” In the next ten days a series of combats broke the Austrian army, drove the Archduke Charles, with his main force, north of the Danube, and opened the road to Vienna to the French. On the 12th of May, one month from the day he left Paris, Napoleon wrote from Schonbrunn, “ We are masters of Vienna.’’ The city had been evacuated. Napoleon lay on the right bank of the Danube; the Aus- trian army under the Archduke Charles was coming to- wards the city by the left bank; it was to be a hand-to-hand struggle under the walls of Vienna. The emperor was un- certain of the archduke’s plans, but he was determined that he should not have a chance to reénforce his army. The battle must be fought at once, and he prepared to go across the river to attack him. The place of crossing he chose was south of Vienna, where the large island Lobau divides the stream. Bridges had to built for the passage, and it was ae ee 214 TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY 215 with the greatest difficulty that the work was accomplished, for the river was high and the current swift, and anchors and boats were scarce. Again and again the boats broke apart. Nevertheless, about thirty thousand of the French got over, and took possession of the villages of Aspern and Essling, where they were attacked on May 21st by some eighty thousand Austrians. The battle which followed lasted all day, and the French sustained themselves heroically. That night reénforce- ments were gotten over, so that the next day some fifty-five thousand men were onthe French side. Napoleon fought with the greatest obstinacy, hoping that another division would soon succeed in getting over, and would enable him to overcome the superior numbers of the Austrians. Al- ready the battle was becoming a hand-to-hand fight, when the terrible news came that the bridge over the Danube had gone down. The Austrians had sent floating down the swollen river great mills, fire-boats, and masses of timber fastened together in such a way as to become battering- rams of frightful power when carried by the rapid stream. All hope of aid was gone, and, as the news spread, the army resigned itself to perish sword in hand. The car- nage which followed was horrible. Towards evening one of the bravest of the French marshals, Lannes, was fatally wounded. It seemed as if fortune had determined on the loss of the French, and Napoleon decided to retreat to the island of Lobau, where he felt sure that he could main- tain his position, and secure supplies from the army on the right bank, until he had time to build. bridges and unite his forces. Communications were soon established with the right bank, but the isle of Lobau was not deserted ; it was used, in fact, as a camp for the next few weeks, while Na- poleon was sending to Italy, to France, and to Germany, for 216 LIFE OF NAPOLEON new troops. A heavy reénforcement came to him from Italy with news which did much to encourage him. When the war began, an Austrian army had invaded Italy, and at first had success in its engagements against the French under the Viceroy of Italy, Eugéne de Beauharnais. The news of the ill-luck of the Austrians at home, and of the march on Vienna, had discouraged the leader, Archduke John, brother of Archduke Charles, and he had retreated, Eugéne following. Such were the successes of the French on this retreat, that the Austrians finally retired out of their way, leaving them a free route to Vienna, and Eugéne soon united his army to that of the emperor. With the greatest rapidity the French now secured and strengthened their communications with Italy and with France, and gathered troops about Vienna. The whole month of June was passed in this way, hostile Europe re- peating the while that Napoleon was shut in by the Aus- trians and could not move, and that he was idling his time in luxury at the castle of Schénbrunn, where he had estab- lished his headquarters. But this month of apparent in- activity was only a feint. By the 1st of July the French Army had reached one hundred and fifty thousand men. They were in admirable condition, well drilled, fresh, and confident. Their communications were strong, their camps good, and they were eager for battle. The Austrians were encamped at Wagram, to the north of the Danube. They had fortified the banks opposite the island of Lobau in a manner which they believed would pre- vent the French from'attempting a passage; but in arrang-. ing their fortification they had completely neglected a certain portion of the bank on which Napoleon seemed to have no designs. But this was the point, naturally, which Napoleon chose for his passage, and on the night of July 4th he effected it. On the morning of the 5th his whole army of TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY 217 one hundred and fifty thousand men, with four hundred batteries, was on the left bank. In the midst of a terrible storm this great mass of men, with all its equipments, had crossed the main Danube, several islands and channels, had built six bridges, and by daybreak had arranged itself in order. It was an unheard-of feat. Pushing his corps forward, and easily sweeping out of his way the advance posts, Napoleon soon had his line facing that of the Austrians, which stretched from near the Danube to a point east of Wagram. At seven o’clock on the evening of July 5th the French attacked the left and centre cf the enemy, but without driving them from their position. The next morning it was the Archduke Charles who took the offensive, making a movement which changed the whole battle. He attacked the French left, which was nearest the river, with fifty thousand men, intending to get on their line of communication and destroy the bridges across the Danube. The troops on the French centre were obliged to hurry off to prevent this, and the army was weakened for a moment, but not long. Napoleon determined to make the Archduke Charles, who in person commanded this attack on the French left, return, not by following him, but by breaking his centre; and he turned his heavy batteries against this portion of the army, and followed them by a cavalry attack, which routed the enemy. At the same time their left was broken, and the troops which had been en- gaging it were free to hurry off against the Austrian right, which was trying to reach the bridges, and which were be- ing held in check with difficulty at Essling. As soon as the archduke saw what had happened to his left and centre he retired, preferring to preserve as much as possible of his army in good order. The French did not pursue. The battle had cost them too heavily. But if the Austrians escaped from Wagram with their army, and if their opponents THE LITTLE CORPORAL. This statue of Napoleon in the costume of the Petit Caporal, from the chisel of Seurre, was placed on the column of the Place Vendome, on July 28, 1835. It succeeded on the pedestal the white flag of the Bourbons, which in its turn had replaced the original statue of ‘‘ Napo- léon en César Romain,” by Chaudet. An in- teresting detail, unknown to most Parisians, is that the equestrian statue of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf was cast with the bronze of Chaudet’s Napoleon. When Napoleon IIT. ascended the throne, he replaced the ‘* Petit Caporal” of Seurre (whose decorative appearance he did not consider ‘‘assezg dynastique'') by a copy. of Chaudet’s ‘‘ César,” made by the sculptor Dru- mont. That figure still crowns the summit of the column, which was re-erected after the desecra- tion by the Commune.—A. D. 218 TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY 219 gained little more than the name of a victory, they were too discouraged to continue the war, and the emperor sued for peace. This peace was concluded in October. Austria was forced to give up Trieste and all her Adriatic possessions, to cede territory to Bavaria and to the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, and to give her consent to the continental system. MARIE LOUISE IN ROYAL ROBES. 1810, “Marie Louise, Archduchess d’Autriche, Impératrice,: Reine, et Régente.” Engraved by Mecou, after Isabey. 220 CHAPTER XVII THE DIVORCE—-A NEW WIFE—AN HEIR TO THE CROWN plots among his subordinates who would aspire to his crown in case of his sudden death, and to assure a succession, Napoleon now decided to take a step long in mind—to divorce Josephine, by whom he no longer hoped to have heirs. In considering Napoleon’s divorce of Josephine, it must be remembered that stability of government was of vital necessity to the permanency of the Napoleonic institutions. Napoleon had turned into practical realities most of the re- forms demanded in 1789. True, he had done it by the exer- cise of despotism, but nothing but the courage, the will, the audacity of a despot could have aroused the nation in 1799. Napoleon felt that these institutions had been so short a time in operation that in case of his death they would easily topple over, and his kingdom go to pieces as Alexander’s had. If he could leave an heir, this disaster would, he believed, be averted. Then, would not a marriage with a foreign princess calm the fears of his Continental enemies? Would they not see in such an alliance an effort on the part of new, liberal France to adjust herself harmoniously to the system of gov- ernment which prevailed on the Continent? Thus, by a new marriage, he hoped to prevent at his death a series of fresh revolutions, save the splendid organi- zation he had created, and put France in greater harmony 221 , ‘O further the universal peace he desired, to prevent 222 LIFE OF NAPOLEON with her environment. It is to misunderstand Napoleon’s scheme, to attribute this divorce simply to a gigantic ego- tism. To assure his dynasty, was to assure France of liberal institutions. His glorification was his country’s. In reality there were the same reasons for divorcing Josephine that there had been for taking the crown in 1804. Josephine had long feared a separation. The Bonapartes had never cared for her, and even so far back as the Egyptian campaign had urged Napoleon to seek a divorce. Unwisely, she had not sought in her early married life to win their affection any more than she had to keep Napoleon’s; and when the emperor was crowned, they had done their best to prevent her coronation. When, for state reasons, the divorce seemed necessary, Josephine had no_ supporters where she might have had many. Her grief was more poignant because she had come to love her husband: with a real ardor. The jealousy from which he had once suffered she now felt, and Napoleon certainly gave her ample cause for it. Her anxiety was well known to all the court, the secretaries Bourrienne and Mé- neval, and Madame de Rémusat being her special confi- dants. Since 1807 it had been intense, for it was in that year that Fouché, probably at Napoleon’s instigation, tried to persuade the empress to suggest the divorce herself as her sacrifice to the country. After Wagram it became evident to her that at last her fate was sealed; but though she beset Méneval and all the members of her household for information, it was only a fortnight before the public divorce that she knew her fate. It was Josephine’s own son and daughter, Eugéne and Hor- tense, who broke the news to her; and it was on the former that the cruel task fell of indorsing the divorce in the Sen- ate in the name of himself and his sister. Josephine was terribly broken by her disgrace, but she THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 223 bore it with a sweetness and dignity which does much to make posterity forget her earlier frivolity and insincerity. “T can never forget [says Pasquier] the evening on which the dis- carded empress did the honors of her court for the last time. It was the day before the official dissolution. A great throng was present, and supper was served, according to custom, in the gallery of Diana, on a number of little tables. Josephine sat at the centre one, and the men went around her, waiting for that particularly graceful nod which she was in the habit of bestowing on those with whom she was acquainted. I stood at a short distance from her for a few minutes, and I could not help being struck with the perfection of her attitude in the presence of all these people who still did her homage, while knowing full well that it was for the last time; that in an hour she would descend from the throne, and leave the palace never to reénter it. Only women can rise superior to such a situation, but -I ‘have my doubts as to whether a second one could have been found to do it with such perfect grace and composure. Napoleon did not show so bold a front as did his victim.” There is no doubt but that Napoleon suffered deeply over the separation. If his love had lost its illusion, he was genuinely attached to Josephine, and in a way she was neces- sary to his happiness. After the ceremony of separation, he was to go to Saint Cloud, she to Malmaison. While waiting for his carriage, he returned to his study in the palace. For a long time he sat silent and depressed, his head on his hand. When he was summoned he rose, his face distorted with pain, and went into the empress’s apart- ment. Josephine was alone. _ When she saw the emperor, she threw herself on his neck, sobbing aloud. He pressed her to his bosom, kissed her again and again, until overpowered with emotion, she fainted. Leaving her to her women, he hurried to his car- riage. Méneval, who saw this sad parting, remained with Josephine until she became conscious. When he left, she begged him not to let the emperor forget her, and to see that he wrote her often. NAPOLEON. Engraved in 1841 by Louis, after a painting made in 1837 by Delaroche, now in the Standish collection, and called the “ Snuff-box.” Probably the finest engraving ever made of a Napoleon portrait. 224 THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 225 “T left her,” that naive admirer and apologist of Na- poleon goes on, “‘ grieved at so deep a sorrow and so sincere an affection. I felt very miserable all along my route, and I could not help deploring that the rigorous exactions of politics should violently break the bonds of an affection which had stood the test of time, to impose another union full of uncertainty.” Josephine returned to Malmaison to live, but Napoleon took care that she should have, in addition, another home, giving her Navarre, a chateau near Evreux, some fifty miles from Paris. She had an income of some four hundred thousand dollars a year, and the emperor showed rare thoughtfulness in providing her with everything she could want. She was to deny herself nothing, take care of her health, pay no attention to the gossip she heard, and never doubt of his love. Such were the recommendations of the frequent letters he wrote her. Sometimes he went to see her, and he told her all the details of his life. It is certain that he neglected no opportunity of comforting her, and that she, on her side, finally accepted her lot with resignation and kindliness. Over two years before the divorce a list of the marriage- able princesses of Europe had been drawn up for Napoleon. This list included eighteen names in all, the two most promi- nent being Marie Louise of Austria, and Anna Paulowna, sister of Alexander of Russia. At the Erfurt conference the project of a marriage with a Russian princess had been discussed, and Alexander had favored it; but now that an attempt was made to negotiate the affair, there were nu- merous delays, and a general lukewarmness which angered Napoleon. Without waiting for the completion of the Rus- sian negotiations, he decided on Marie Louise. The marriage ceremony was performed in Vienna on ‘March 12, 1810, the Archduke Charles acting for Napoleon. ‘4EQI JO UOIDS 44 usr P2eIGIVxXS sem oangord sr *qOSseq [eurpsea Aq fais sem UoTOIpeueq jeydnu ayy, uspeg jo sseqonq puein oq} ‘A4je1T FO usen SOTA SY} SSingzin pA Fo and puein 2eyi ‘tseidenN jo aaenO 24} ‘aurneg sssourig ey} ‘Aueosny,-jJo ssoyonq puri syy ‘erjeydysayy jo usen() 94} {pueljoZT Jo UsenG eq3 ‘uredg jo usenG ey} fasgue suUEpePL ‘ssoiduisa 94} FO 39] 942 OL "10 ETY puesy-oof,. 2UNgG 94} +a]QuIsUOD-201A S9UIG 94} ‘fseInsvalj-yory soulg 8q} s0][eoueys-yo1y soullg 24} fuepeg Jo axnq pueis) Areyparsy Sy} fATeIT Jo Ao1V.1A ‘uoajodeny eugang sourg ‘sojdeyy + fo Sury Yeimyy ‘asaysiog s0uli1g 9y} ‘eleydyse“y JO Bury ay} ‘pueljory jO Surly 34 poojys ‘urtozje[d 94} Jo pus TaMmo] Sy} We pues pueY IYSII storodwe oy} uQ “OfgI UL yaBnoy Ag ‘OIgI ‘@ Wlddv “AYANOT AHL 40 FOvIvd AHL Lv “VIMLSAV dO SSHHINGHOUV “ASINOT TIUVN GNV NOAIOdVN AOWIAWA AHL 10 AOVINAVA 226 THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 227 The emperor first saw his new wife some days later on the road between Soissons and Compiégne, where he had gone to meet her in most unimperial haste, and in contradiction to the pompous and complicated ceremony which had been arranged for their first interview. From the beginning he was frankly delighted with Marie Louise. In fact, the new empress was a most attractive girl, young, fresh, modest well-bred, and innocent. She entirely filled Napoleon’s ideal of a wife, and he certainly was happy with her. Marie Louise in marrying Napoleon had felt that she was a kind of sacrificial offering, for she had naturally a deep horror of the man who had caused her country so much woe; but her dread was soon dispelied, and she be- came very fond of her husband. Outside of the court the two led an amusingly simple life, riding together inform- ally early in the morning, in a gay Bohemian way; sitting together alone in the empress’s little salon, she at her needle- work, he with a book. They even indulged now and then in quiet little larks of their own, as one day when Marie Louise attempted to make an omelet in her apartments. Just as she was completely engrossed in her work, the emperor came in. The empress tried to conceal her culinary operations, but Napoleon detected the odor. “What is going on here? There is a singular smell, as if something was being fried. What, you are making an omelet! Bah! you don’t know how to do it. I will show you how it is done.” And he set to work to instruct her. They got on very well until it came to tossing it, an operation Napoleon in- sisted on performing himself, with the result that he landed it on the floor. On March 20, 1811, the long-desired heir to the French throne was born. It had been arranged that the birth of the child should be announced to the people by cannon shot; 228 LIFE OF NAPOLEON twenty-one if it were a princess, one hundred and one if a prince. The people who thronged the quays and streets about the Tuileries waited with inexpressible anxiety as the cannon boomed forth; one—two—three. As twenty-one died away the city held its breath; then came twenty-two. the thundering peals which followed it were drowned in the wild enthusiasm of the people. For days afterward, ener- vated by joy and the endless fétes given them, the French drank and sang to the King of Rome. In all these rejoicings none were so touching as at Na- varre, where Josephine, on hearing the cannon, called to- gether her friends and said, “We, too, must have a féte. I shall give you a ball, and the whole city of Evreux must come and rejoice with us.” Napoleon was the happiest of men, and he devoted himself to his son with pride. Reports of the boy’s condition appear frequently in his letters; he even allowed him to be taken without the empress’s knowledge to Josephine, who had begged to see him. CHAPTER XVIII TROUBLE WITH THE POPE—THE CONSCRIPTION—-EVASIONS OF THE BLOCKADE—THE TILSIT AGREEMENT BROKEN our happiness and that of France,” so Napoleon had written Josephine after the birth of the King of Rome, but it soon became evident that he was wrong. There were causes of uneasiness and discontent in France which had been operating for a long time, and which were only aggravated by the apparent solidity that an heir gave to the Napoleonic dynasty. First among these was religious disaffection. Towards the end of 1808, being doubtful of the Pope’s loyalty, Na- poleon had sent French troops to Rome; the spring follow- ing, without any plausible excuse, he had annexed four Papal States to the kingdom of Italy; and in 1809 the Pope had been made a prisoner at Savona. When the divorce was asked, it was not the Pope, but the clergy, of Paris, who had granted it. When the religious marriage of Marie Louise and Napoleon came to be celebrated, thirteen cardi- nals refused to appear; the “black cardinals” they were thereafter called, one of their punishments for non-appear- ance at the wedding being that they could no longer wear their red gowns. To the pious all this friction with the fathers of the Church was a deplorable irritation. It was impossible to show contempt for the authority of Pope and cardinals and not wound one of the deepest sentiments of France, and one which ten years before Napoleon had braved most to satisfy. “7 \ HIS child in concert with our Eugéne will constitute 229 NAPOLEON AND POPE PIUS VII, IN CONFERENCE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. Engraved by Robinson, after a painting made in 1836 by Wilkie. 230 TTROUBLE WITH THE POPE 231 To the irritation against the emperor’s church policy was added bitter resentment against the conscription, that tax of blood and muscle demanded of the country. Napoleon had formulated and attempted to make tolerable the prin- ciple born of the Revolution, which declared that every male citizen of age owed the state a service of blood in case it needed him. The wisdom of his management of the con- scription had prevented discontent until 1807; then the draft on life had begun to, be arbitrary and grievous. The laws of exemptions were disregarded. The “only son of his mother’ no tonger remained at her side. The father whose little children were motherless must leave them; aged and helpless parents no longer gave immunity. Those who had bought their exemption by heavy sacrifices were obliged to go. Persons whom the law made subject to conscription in 1807, were called out in 1806; those of 1808, in 1807. So far was this premature drafting pushed, that the armies were said to be made up of “ boy soldiers,” weak, unformed youths, fresh from school, who wilted in a sun like that of Spain, and dropped out in the march. At the rate at which men had been killed, however, there was no other way of keeping up'the army. Between 1804 and 1811 one million seven hundred thousand men had perished in battle. What wonder that now the boys of France were pressed into service! At the same time the country was overrun with the lame, the blind, the broken- down, who had come back from war to live on their friends or on charity. It was not only the funeral crape on almost every door which made Frenchmen hate the conscription, it was the crippled men whom they met at every corner. While within, the people fretted over the religious dis- turbances and the abuses of the conscription, without, the continental blockade was. causing serious trouble between Napoleon and the kings he ruled. In spite of all his efforts THE KING OF ROME. 1811. Engraved by Desnoyers, after Gérard. ‘‘ His Majesty the King of Rome. Dedicated to her Majesty Imperial and Royal, Marie Louise.” 232 TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 233 English merchandise penetrated everywhere. The fair at Rotterdam in 1807 was filled with English goods. They passed into Italy under false seals. They came into France on pretence that they were for the empress. Napoleon re- monstrated and threatened, but he could not check the traffic. The most serious trouble caused by this violation of the Berlin Decree was with Louis, King of Holland. In 1808 Napoleon complained to his brother that more than one hundred ships passed between his kingdom and England every month, and a year later he wrote in desperation, “Holland is an English province.” The relations of the brothers grew more and more bitter. Napoleon resented the half support Louis gave him, and as a punishment he took away his provinces, filled his forts with French troops, threatened him with war if he did not break up the trade. So far did these hostilities go, that in the summer of 1810 King Louis abdicated in favor of his son and retired to Austria. Napoleon tried his best to per- suade him at least to return into French territory, but he refused. This break was the sadder because Louis was the brother for whom Napoleon had really done most. Joseph was not happier than Louis. The Spanish war still went on, and no better than in 1808. Joseph, hum- bled and unhappy, had even prayed to be freed of the throne. The relations with Sweden were seriously strained. Since 1810 Bernadotte had been by adoption the crown prince of that country. Although he had emphatically refused, in accepting the position, to agree never to take up arms against France, as Napoleon wished him to do, he had later con- sented to the continental blockade, and had declared war against England; but this declaration both England and Sweden considered simply as a facon de parler. Napoleon, conscious that Bernadotte was not carrying out the blockade, and irritated by his persistent refusal to enter into French “NAPOLEON IN HIS CABINET.” THE CHILD AT HIS SIDE Is OF ROME. HIS SON, THE KING The manuscript on the floor of the cabinet bears the date ‘ 1811.” Engraved by Weber, after Steuben. nu Oo S TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 235 combinations, and pay tribute to carry on French wars, had suppressed his revenues as a French prince—Bernadotte had been created Prince of Ponte-Corvo in 1806—had refused to communicate with him, and when the King of Rome was born had sent back the Swedish decoration offered. Finally, in January, 1812, French troops invaded certain Swedish possessions, and the country concluded an alliance with England and Russia. With Russia, the “other half” of the machine, the ally upon whom the great plan of Tilsit and Erfurt depended, there was such a bad state of feeling that, in 1811, it became certain that war would result. Causes had been accumu- lating upon each side since the Erfurt meeting. The continental system weighed heavily on the interests of Russia. The people constantly rebelled against it and evaded it in every way. The business depressions from which they suffered they charged to Napoleon, and a strong party arose in the empire which used every method of showing the czar that the “ unnatural alliance,” as they called the agreement between Alexander and Napoleon, was un- popular. The czar could not refuse to listen to this party. More, he feared that Napoleon was getting ready to restore Poland. He was offended by the haste with which his ally had dismissed the idea of marriage with his sister and had taken up Marie Louise. He complained of the changes of boundaries in Germany. Napoleon, on his part, saw with irritation that English goods were admitted into Russia. He resented the failure of Alexander to join heartily in the wide- sweeping application he had made of the Berlin and Milan Decrees, and to persecute neutral flags of all nations, even of those so far away from the Continent as the United States. He remembered that Russia had not supported him loyally in 1809. He was suspicious, too, of the good understand- THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT. Engraved by W. Bromley, after Sir Thomas Lawrence. 236 TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 237 ing which seemed to be growing between Sweden, Russia, and England. During many months the two emperors remained in a half-hostile condition, but the strain finally became too great. War was inevitable, and Napoleon set about preparing for the struggle. During the latter months of 1811 and the first of 1812 his attention was given almost entirely to the military and diplomatic preparations necessary before be- ginning the Russian campaign. By the ist of May, 1812, he was ready to join his army, which he had centred at Dresden. Accompanied by Marie Louise he arrived at Dresden on the 16th of May, 1812, where he was greeted by the Emperor of Austria, the King of Prussia, and other sovereigns with whom he had formed alliances. The force Napoleon had brought to the field showed graphically the extension and the character of the France of 1812. The “army of twenty nations,” the Russians called the host which was preparing to meet them, and the expression was just, for in the ranks there were Spaniards, Neapolitans, Piedmontese, Slavs, Kroats, Bavarians, Dutch- men, Poles, Romans, and a dozen other nationalities, side by side with Frenchmen. Indeed, nearly one-half the force was said to be foreign. The Grand Army, as the active body was called, numbered, to quote the popular figures, six hun- dred and seventy-eight thousand men. It is sure that this is an exaggerated number, though certainly over half a mil- licn men entered Russia. With reserves, the whole force numbered one million one hundred thousand. The neces- sity for so large a body of reserves is explained by the length of the line of communication Napoleon had to keep. From the Nieman to Paris the way must be open, supply stations guarded, fortified towns equipped. It took nearly as many men to insure the rear of the Grand Army as it did to make up the army itself. PORTRAIT OF THE KING OF ROME, Painting by Lawrence. Collection of the Duc de Bassano. This portrait of Napoleon TI. is an exquisite work of art, a bright and fresh color-harmony. Lawrence must have executed this portrait while travelling in Europe, whither he was sent by his sovereign George IV., and paid twenty-five thousand francs a year, to paint for the great Windsor gallery the portraits of all the heroes “du grand hasard de WWaterloo.’—A. D. 238 TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 239 With this imposing force at his command, Napoleon believed that he could compel Alexander to suppport the continental blockade, for come what might that system must succeed. For it the reigning house had been driven from Portugal, the Pope despoiled and imprisoned, Louis gone into exile, Bernadotte driven into a new alliance. For it the Grand Army was led into Russia. It had become, as its inventor proclaimed, the fundamental law of the em- pire. . Until he crossed the Nieman, Napoleon preserved the hope of being able to avoid war. Numerous letters to the Russian emperor, almost pathetic in their overtures, exist. But Alexander never replied. He simply allowed his enemy to advance. The Grand Army was doomed to make the Russian campaign. Seton SS ae or ea NAPOLEON READING. 1S. From the collection of Monsieur Cheramy of Pari irodet. By G 240 CHAPTER XIX THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN—THE BURNING OF MOSCOW—A NEW ARMY F one draws a triangle, its base stretching along the Nie- man from Tilsit to Grodno, its apex on the Elbe, he will have a rough outline of the “ army of twenty nations ” as it lay in June, 1812. Napoleon, some two hundred and twenty-five thousand men around him, was at Kowno, hesi- tating to advance, reluctant to believe that Alexander would not make peace. When he finally moved, it was not with the precision and swiftness which had characterized his former campaigns. When he began to fight, it was against new odds. He found that his enemies had been studying the Spanish campaigns, and that they had adopted the tactics which had so nearly ruined his armies in the Peninsula: they refused to give him a general battle retreating constantly before him; they harassed his separate corps with indecisive contests; they wasted the country as they went. The people aided their soldiers as the Spaniards had done. “ Tell us only the moment, and we will set fire to our buildings,” said the peasants. By the 12th of August, Napoleon was at Smolensk, the key of Moscow. At a cost of twelve thousand men killed and wounded, he took the town, only to find, instead of the well-victualled shelter he hoped, a smoking ruin. The French army had suffered frightfully from sickness, from scarcity of supplies, and from useless fighting on the march 241 MARSIIAL NEY (‘' LE MARECHAL NEY, DUC D'ELCHINGEN, PRINCE DE LA MOSKOWA, PALR DE FRANCE") Engraved by Tardieu, after Gérard. 242 THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN 243 from the Nieman to Smolensk. They had not had the stim- ulus of a great victory; they began to feel that this steady retreat of the enemy was only a fatal trap into which they were falling. Every consideration forbade them to march into Russia so late in the year, yet on they went towards Moscow, over ruined fields. and through empty villages. This terrible pursuit lasted until September 7th, when the Russians, to content their soldiers, who were complaining loudly because they were not allowed to engage the French, gave battle at Borodino, the battle of the Moskova, as the French call it. At two o’clock in the morning of this engagement, Na- poleon issued one of his stirring bulletins: “Soldiers! Here is the battle which you have so long desired ! Henceforth the victory depends upon you; it is necessary for us. It will give you abundance, good winter quarters, and a speedy return to your country! Behave as you did at Austerlitz, at Friedland, at Vitebsk. at Smolensk, and the most remote posterity will quote with pride your conduct on this day; let it say of you: he was at the great battle under the walls of Moscow.’ The French gained the battle at Borodino, at a cost of some thirty thousand men, but they did not destroy the Rus- sian army. Although the Russians lost fifty thousand men, they retreated in good order. Under the circumstances, a victory which allowed the enemy to retire in order was of little use. It was Napoleon’s fault, the critics said; he was inactive. But it was not sluggishness which troubled Na- poleon at Borodino. He had a new enemy—a headache. On the day of the battle he suffered so that he was obliged to retire to a ravine to escape the icy wind. In this sheltered spot he paced up and down all day, giving his orders from the reports brought him. Moscow was entered on the 15th of September. Here the French found at last food and shelter, but only for a few Pur Ag ‘SQ NO FAB SIN SVH uOwddNA AHL j NOLLNALLV 244 THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN 245 hours. That night Moscow burst into flames, set on fire by the authorities, by whom it had been abandoned. It was three days before the fire was arrested. It would cost Rus- sia two hundred years of time, two hundred millions of money, to repair the loss which she had sustained, Napoleon wrote to France. , Suffering, disorganization, pillage, followed the disaster. But Napoleon would not retreat. He hoped to make peace. Moscow was still smoking when he wrote a long description of the conflagration to Alexander. The closing paragraph ran: “T wage war against your Majesty without animosity; a note from you before or after the last battle would have stopped my march, and I should even have liked to sacrifice the advantage of entering Moscow. If your Majesty retains some remains of your former senti- ments, you will take this letter in good part. At all events, you will thank me for giving you an account of what is passing at Moscow.” “T will never sign a peace as long as a single foe remains on Russian ground,” the Emperor Alexander had said when he heard that Napoleon had crossed the Nieman. He kept his word in spite of all Napoleon’s overtures. The French position grew worse from day to day. No food, no fresh supplies, the cold increasing, the army disheartened, the number of Russians around Moscow growing larger. Noth- ing but a retreat could save the remnant of the French. It began on October 19th, one hundred and fifteen thousand men leaving Moscow. They were followed by forty thou- sand vehicles loaded with the sick and with what supplies they could get hold of. The route was over the fields de- vastated a month before. The Cossacks harassed them night and day, and the cruel Russian cold dropped from the skies, cutting them down like a storm of scythes. Before Smo- lensk was reached, thousands of the retreating army were dead. “NOIVdNVO NVISSOY FHL AILAV NOUIOdVN 246 THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN 247 Napoleon had ordered that provisions and clothing should be collected at Smolensk. When he reached the city he found that his directions had not been obeyed. The army, exasperated beyond endurance by this disappointment, fell into complete and frightful disorganization, and the rest of the retreat was like the falling back of a conquered mob. There is no space here for the details of this terrible march and of the frightful passage of the Beresina. The terror of the cold and starvation wrung cries from Napoleon himself. “Provisions, provisions, provisions,” he wrote on No- vember 29th from the right bank of the Beresina. ‘‘ With- out them there is no knowing to what horrors this undis- ciplined mass will proceed.” And again: “ The army is at its last extremity. It is impossible for it to do anything, even if it were a question of defending Paris.” The army finally reached the Nieman. The last man over was Marshal Ney. “ Who are you?” he was asked. “ The rear guard of the Grand Army,” was the sombre reply of the noble old soldier. Some forty thousand men crossed the river, but of these there were many who could do nothing but crawl to the hos- pitals, asking for “the rooms where people die.” It was true, as Desprez said, the Grand Army was dead. It was on this horrible retreat that Napoleon received word that a curious thing had happened in Paris. A gen- eral and an abbé, both political prisoners, had escaped, and actually had succeeded in the preliminaries of a coup d'état overturning the empire, and substituting a provisional gov- ernment. They had carried out their scheme simply by announcing that Napoleon was dead, and by reading a forged proclama- tion from the senate to the effect that the imperial govern- ment was at an end and a new one begun. The authorities 248 LIFE OF NAPOLEON to whom these conspirators had gone had with but little hesitation accepted their orders. They had secured twelve hundred soldiers, had locked up the prefect of police, and had taken possession of the Hotel de Ville. The foolhardy enterprise went, it is true, only a little way, but far enough to show Paris that the day of easy revolution had not passed, and that an announcement of the death of Napoleon did not bring at once a cry of “ Long live the King of Rome!”’ The news of the Malet conspiracy was an astonishing revelation to Napoleon himself of the instability of French public sentiment. He saw that the support on which he had depended most to insure his institutions, that is, an heir to his throne, was set aside at the word of a worth- less agitator. The impression made on his generals by the news was one of consternation and despair. The emperor read in their faces that they believed his good fortune was waning. He decided to go to Paris as soon as possible. On December 5th he left the army, and after a perilous journey of twelve days reached the French capital. It took as great courage to face France now as it had taken audacity to attempt the invasion of Russia. The grandest army the nation had ever sent out was lying be- hind him dead. His throne had tottered for an instant in sight of all France. Hereafter he could not believe him- self invincible. Already his enemies were suggesting that since his good genius had failed him once, it might again. No one realized the gravity of the position as Napoleon himself, but he met his household, his ministers, the Council of State, the Senate, with an imperial self-confidence and a sang froid which are awe-inspiring under the circum- stances. The horror of the situation of the army was not known in Paris on his arrival, but reports came in daily until the truth was clear to everybody. But Napoleon never lost countenance. The explanations necessary for him to give THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN 249 to the Senate, to his allies, and to his friends, had all the serenity and the plausibility of a victor—a victor who had suffered, to be sure, but not through his own rashness or mismanagement. The following quotation from a letter to the King of Denmark illustrates well his public attitude to- wards the invasion and the retreat from Moscow: “The enemy were always beaten, and captured neither an eagle nor a gun from my army. On the 7th of November the cold became intense; all the roads were found impracticable; thirty thousand horses perished between the 7th and the 16th. A portion of our baggage and artillery wagons was broken and abandoned; our soldiers, little accustomed to such weather, could not endure the cold. They wandered from the ranks in quest of shelter for the night, and, having no cavalry to protect them, several thousands fell into the hands of the enemy’s light troops. General Sanson, chief of the topographic corps, was captured by some Cossacks while he was engaged in sketching a position. Other isolated officers shared the same fate. My losses are severe, but the enemy cannot attribute to themselves the honor of having inflicted them. My army has suffered greatly, and suffers still, but this calamity will cease with the cold.” To every one he declared that it was the Russians, not he, who had suffered. It was their great city, not his, which was burnt; their fields, not his, which were devastated. They did not take an eagle, did not win a battle. It was the cold, the Cossacks, which had done the mischief to the Grand Army; and that mischief? Why, it would be soon repaired. ‘I shall be back on the Nieman in the spring.” But the very man who in public and private calmed and reassured the nation, was sometimes himself so overwhelmed at the thought of the disaster which he had just witnessed, that he let escape a cry which showed that it- was only his indomitable will which was carrying him through; that his heart was bleeding. In the midst of a glowing account to the legislative body of his success during the invasion, he suddenly stopped. “In a few nights everything changed. I have suffered great losses. They would have broken my “d ‘V—.c PI! ,, Seauss yeyowu siq Suyured 0} snotasid ‘soue1q jo usiedures 9y} Aq paitdsur ‘ain “pid [nyinesq sty} aiojoq A]}sauivs pue Zuo], pazeyipeu Jauossiay, + “1Oreduria 1194} Wo1jz usIs e UO YYeEIp OF WdAD uni 0} ‘sjuawia3einoosIp BZuiseaiour pue endyWey Surteam yo ayids ur ‘Apear skemje yah pue ‘pazus}Uoosip sAem[e— Sp4puzo0aZF plo asay} JO purul yo a3ejs ayy dn sums jstjie dyz Aq uasoys puasey aYT, ‘“SMOLIOJOIA Way} JO We—siyay payeoda1 1a}3e siaqunu ‘ur 458 LIFE OF NAPOLEON The 26th of October, 1806, at Potsdam, the Emperor signed himself thus, The 29th of October, 1806, from Berlin, as follows: Me The 27th of January, from Varsovia, M2 From the Imperial Camp at Tilsit, the 22nd of June, 1807, the Emperor signed only his initial, as below, and very rarely after that his entire name: N. We AUTOGRAPHS 459° _ The 7th of December, 1808, he signed from Madrid; thus, NV. At the commencement of the campaign of 1809, in writ- ing to’Marshall Massena, he signed himself as follows: From the Imperial Camp of Ratisbonne, the 24th of April, 1809, the Emperor addressed a proclamation to the Army, ending thus, ‘‘ Before a month has passed, I shall be at Vienna,” and he signed Less than three weeks afterwards, the French Army was 460 LIFE OF NAPOLEON at Vienna, and the Emperor signed his decrees from the Palace of Schoenbrunn, 13th of May: The same variety of signatures is found in the orders dated Moscow, the city which he had entered as a Con- queror, the 12th of September, 1812. The 2ist of Sept., 1812, at 3 o’clock in the morning, the Emperor signed himself as follows: During the campaign of 1813, the Emperor sent an order from Dresden to the Major-General, dated October Ist, at noon. General Petit relates that he reflected some time be- AUTOGRAPHS 461 fore sending it, for the signature had been scratched out twice, and written a third time. One of the next extraordinary signatures of the Em- peror’s, is the following, which he gave at Erfurt, October 1%, 1613¢ The 4th of April, 1814, Fontainebleau, thus, N. 462 LIFE OF NAPOLEON The oth of September, 1814, from the Isle of Elba, he writes thus: Nap. On July 14, 1815, the Emperor wrote to the Prince Regent of England and signed himself te At Longwood, St. Helena, on Dec. 11, 1816, the Em- peror wrote to Count Las Cases a letter of condolence on the order the Count had received to leave the island. It was his first signature at St. Helena. TABLE OF THE CHARLES BONAPARTE, (1746-1785.) Marriep From this 1. Joseph (1768-1844), married in 1794 to Marie Julie Clary. From this marrtage : (x) Zénaide Charlotte (180r- 1854), married in 1832 to her cousin, Charles Bona- parte, Prince de Canino. (a) Charlotte (1802 1839), married in 183 Napoleon Louis, her cousin, second son of Louis. 464 2d, NAPOLEON I. (1769-1821), married (1) Marie Josephine Rose Tascher de la Pagerie in 1796. (2) Marie Louise, Archduchess of Au- stria, in 1810, Adopted the first wifes two children : (z) Eugéne (1781-1824), who married the Princess Augusta Amelia, daughter of the King of Bavaria. From this marriage : (@) Maximilian Joseph, Duke of Leuch- tenberg, who married in 1839 a daughter of the Czar Nicholas. (® Josephine, married in 1823 to Oscar Bernadotte, since King of Sweden under the name of Charles XIV. (©) Eugénie Hortense, married in 1826 to Prince Frederick of Hohenzol- lern Hechingen. @ Amélie Augusta, married in 1829 to Dom Pedro, Emperor of Brazil. (6) Auguste Charles, married in 1835 to Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal. (/) Théodeline Louise, married in 1841 to William, Count of Wtrtemberg. () Eugénie Hortense (1783-1827), mar- ried to Louis Bonaparte. (See Louis. From second marriage : Francois Charles Joseph (NAPOLEON II.), King of Rome, afterwards Duke of Reichstadt (1811-1832), BONAPARTE FAMILY. MARIE LATITIA RAMOLINO. (1750-1836.) IN 1765. marriage : 3d. Lucien (2775-1840), married: 4th, Marte Anne Eliza (1777-1820), mar (x) in 1794, Christine Eleonore Boyer. ried to Felix Baccioch1 in 1797. (2) in 1802, Madame Jouberthon. From this marriage: From first marriage : G) Charles Jerome Racchiochi 1810- (x) Charlotte, married in 1815 to Prince 1830. Mario Gabrielli. (2) Napoleone Eliza, married to Count G) Christine Egypta, married in 1818 to Camerata, Count Avred Posse, a Swede, and in 31824 to Lord Dudley Coutts Stuart. From second marriage : Charles Lucien Jules Laurent, Prince of Canino, married to elder daughter of Joseph Bonaparte, Charles Lucien had eight children: Joseph, who died young; Lucien a cardinal in 1868; Napoleon, served in French army; Julie, married to the Marquis de Boccagiovine ; Charlotte, who became the Count- ess of Primoli; Augusta, afterwards the Princess Gabrielli; Marie, mar- ried to Count Campello ; Bathilde, married to Count Cambacérés. Letitia, married to Sir Thomas Wyse. (3) Paul, killed in 1826. (4) Jeanne, died in 1828. (s) Louis Lucien, known as Prince Lu- cien, and distinguished as a writer. Pierre Napoleon, known as Prince Pierre, married to a sempstress, and refused to give her up. The oldest son of Prince Pierre is the Prince _ Roland Bonaparte. He would now be the chief of the House of Bona- parte, if Lucien had not been cut off from the succession. (7) Antoine. (8) Marie, married to the Viscount Va- lentini. (9) Constance, who took the veil. ~~ © (2 ~ (6 ~~ AG% TABLE OF THE CHARLES BONAPARTE. (1746-1785.) Marriep From this sth. Louzs (1778-1846) married in 1802 to Eugénie Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of Josephine, From this marriages u) Napoleon Charles, heir-presumptive to the throne of Holland, died in 1807. (2) Charles Napoleon Louis, married his cousin Charlotte, daughter of Jos- eph; died in 1831. Charles Louis Napoleon, Emperor of the French in 1852, under the title of NAPOLEON III, married in 1853 to Eugénie de Montijo de Guzman Countess of Teba, G LY From this marrtage: Napoleon Eugéne Louis Jean Joseph Prince Imperial, born in 1856; killed in Zululand in 1879, 6th. Marte Pauline (1780-1825), married (x) in 1801 to General Leclerc, (a) in 1803 to Prince Camille Borghese, Nochildren, BONAPARTE FAMILY. MARIE LATITIA RAMOLINO. (1750-1836.) IN 1765. marrtage: qth. Caroline Marie Annonctade (1782- 1839), married Joachim Muratin 1800, From this marriage: (x) Napoleon Achille Charles Louis Murat (x801-1847), went to Florida where he married a grand-niece of George Washington. (2) Letitia Joséphe, married to the Marquis of Pepoli. (3) Lucien Charles Joseph Francois Napoleon Murat, married an Ameri- can, a Miss Fraser, in 1827. From this marriage there were five chil- dren, (4) Louise Julie Caroline, married Count Rospoli. 467 CONTINUED. 8th. Jerome (1784-1860), married : (x) in 1803 to Miss Eliza Patterson of Baltimore; and (2) in 1807 to the Princess Catharine of Wirtemberg. From first marriage; Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte-Paterson (x805-1870) married in 1829 to Miss Suzanne Gay. Two children were born from this marriage: Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte (1832- 1893). (2) Charles Bonaparte, at present a resident of Baltimore. (x ~ From second marriage: «a LS Jerome Napoleon Charles, who died in 1847. Mathilde Letita Wilhelmine, mar- ried in 1840 toa Russian, Prince Demidoff, but separated from him: known as the Princess Mathilde. (3) Napoleon Joseph Charles Paul, call- ed Prince Napoleon, also known as Plon Plon, married in 1859 the Prin- cess Clotilde, daughter of King Victor Emmanuel of Italy. On the death of the Prince Imperial, in 1879, became chief of the Bonapartist party. Diedin 1891. Prince Napo- leon had three children : (a) Napoleon Victor Jerome Freder- ick, born in 1862, called Prince Vic- tor and the present Head of the House of Bonaparte. (b) Napoleon Louis Joseph Jerome. (c) Marie Letitia Eugénie Catharine Adelaide. @ nary CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF NAPO- Ace. DATE. 1769 9. 1778. 9. 1779. 9. 1779. 1§. 1784. 16. 1785. 16. 1785. 16. 1785. 17. 1786. 17. 1786. 17. 1787. 18. 1787. 18. 1787. 18-19. 1788. LEON BONAPARTE Event. . Aug. 15.—Napoleon Bonaparte born at Ajaccio, in Corsica. Fourth child of Charles Bonaparte and of Letitia, née Ramolino. Dec—Napoleon embarks for France with his father, his brother Joseph, and his Uncle Fesch. Jan. 1.—Napoleon enters the College of Autun. April 23—Napoleon enters the Royal Military School of Brienne. Oct. 23—Napoleon enters the Royal Military School of Paris. Sept. 1.—Napoleon appointed Second Lieutenant in the Artillery Regiment de la Fére. Oct. 29.—Napoleon leaves the Military School of Paris. Nov. 5 to Aug. 11, 1786—Napoleon at Valence with his regiment. Aug. 15 to Sept. 20.—Napoleon at Lyons with regiment. Oct. 17 to Feb. 1, 1787.—Napoleon at Douai with regiment. Feb. 1 to Oct. 14—Napoleon on leave to Corsica. Oct. 15 to Dec. 24.—Napoleon quits Corsica, arrives in Paris, obtains fresh leave. Dec. 25 to May, 1788.—Napoleon proceeds to Corsica and returns early in May. . May to April 4, 1789—Napoleon at Auxonne with regi- ment. 460 470 Ace. Date. LIFE OF NAPOLEON Event. 19. 1789. April 5 to April 30—Napoleon at Seurre in command of a 19-20. 20-21. 21-22. 23. 23. 23. 24. 24. 24. 24. 24-25. 25. 25. 25-26, 1789. 1789. 1791. . 1791. 3792. 1792. 1793. 1793. 1793. 1793. 1794. 1794. 1794. 1795. 1795. detachment. May 1 to Sept. 15.—Napoleon at Auxonne with regiment. Sept. 16 to June 1, 1791.—Napoleon in Corsica. June 2 to Aug. 29.—Napoleon joins the Fourth Regiment of Artillery at Valence as First Lieutenant. Aug. 30.—Napoleon starts for Corsica on leave for three months; quits Corsica May 2, 1792, for France, where he has been dismissed for absence without leave. Aug. 30.—Napoleon reinstated. Sept. 14 to June 11, 1793.—Napoleon in Corsica engaged in revolutionary attempts; having declared against Paoli, he and his family are obliged to quit Corsica. June 13 to July 14.—Napoleon with his company at Nice. Oct. 9 to Dec. 19—Napoleon placed in command of part of artillery of army of Carteaux before Toulon, roth Oct.; Toulon taken 19th Dec. Dec. 22.—Napoleon nominated provisionally General of Bri- gade; approved later; receives commission, 16th Feb., 1704. Dec. 26 to April 1, 1794.—Napoleon appointed inspector of the coast from the Rhone to the Var, on inspection duty. April 1 to Aug. 5.—Napoleon with army of Italy; at Genoa 15th-21st July. Aug. 6 to Aug. 20. 1794.—Napoleon in arrest after fall of Robespierre. Sept. 14 to March 29, 1795.—Napoleon commanding ar- tillery of an intended maritime expedition to Corsica March 27 to May 10.— Napoleon ordered from the south to join the army in La Vendée to command its artillery; arrives in Paris, roth May. June 13.—Napoleon ordered to join Hoche’s army at Brest, to command a brigade of infantry; remains in Paris; AcE. Date. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 27. 27. 27. 27. 1795. 1795. 1795. 1796. 1796. 1796. 1796. 1796. 1706. 1797. 1797. CHRONOLOGY 471 Event. 2ist Aug., attached to Comité de Salut Public as one of four advisers; 15th Sept., struck off list of employed generals for disobedience of orders in not proceeding to the west. Oct. 5 (13th Vendémiaire, Jour des Sections).—Napoleon defends the Convention from the revolt of the Sections. Oct. 16.—Napoleon appointed provisionally General of Di- vision. Oct. 26.—Napoleon appointed General of Division and Com- mander of the Army of the Interior (1. e., of Paris). March 2.—Napoleon appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Italy; oth March, marries Madame de Beau- harnais, née Tascher de la Pagerie. March 11, leaves Paris for Italy. First Italian campaign of Napoleon against Austrians under Beaulieu, and Sardinians under Colli: Battle of Montenotte, 12th April; Millesimo, 14th April; Dego, 14th and 15th April; Mondovi, 22d April; Armistice of Cherasco with Sardinians, 28th April; Battle of Lodi, 10th May; Austrians beaten out of Lombardy, and Mantua besieged. July and August.—First attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; battle of Lonato, 31st July; Lonato and Cas- tiglione, 3d Aug.; and, again, Castiglione, 5th and 6th Aug.; Wurmser beaten off, and Mantua again invested. Sept—Second attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; bat- tle of Calliano, 4th Sept.; Primolano, 7th Sept.; Bas- sano, 8th Sept.; .St. Georges, 15th Sept.; Wurmser driven into Mantua and invested there. Nov.—Third attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; bat- tles of Caldiero, 11th Nov., and Arcola, 15th, 16th, and 17th Nov.; Alvinzi driven off. Jan.—Fourth attempt to relieve Mantua; battles of Rivoli, 14th Jan., and Favorita, 16th Jan.; Alvinzi again driven off. Feb. 2.—Wurmser surrenders Mantua with eighteen thou- sand men. 472 AcE. DATE. 27. 28. 20. 290. 30. 39. 30. 30. 31. 31. 31. 32. 32. 32. 1797. » 1797. 1798. 1799. 1799. 1799. 1799. 1799. 1800. 1800. 1801. 1801. T80I. 1802. 1802. LIFE OF NAPOLEON EVENT. March 10.—Napoleon commences his advance on the Arch- duke Charles; beats him at the Tagliamento, 16th March; 18th April, provisional treaty of Leoben with Austria. Oct. 17.—Treaty of Campo Fermio between France and Austria to replace that of Leoben; Venice partitioned, and itself now falls to Austria. . 179% Egyptian expedition. Napoleon sails from Toulon, roth May; takes Malta, roth June; lands near Alexandria, ist July; Alexandria taken, 2d July; battle of the Pyramids, 21st July; Cairo entered, 23d July. Aug. 1 and 2.—Battle of the Nile. March 3.—Napoleon starts for Syria; 7th March, takes Jaffa ; 18th March, invests St. Jean d’Acre; 16th April, battle of Mount Tabor; 22d May. siege of Acre raised; Napoleon reaches Cairo, 14th June. July 25.—Battle of Aboukir; Turks defeated. Aug. 22—Napoleon sails from Egypt; lands at Fréjus, 6th Oct. Nov. 9 and ro (18th and 19th Brumaire).—Napoleon seizes power. Dec. 25.—Napoleon, First Consul; Cambacérés, Second Consul; Lebrun, Third Consul. May and June—Marengo campaign. 14th June, battle of Marengo; armistice signed by Napoleon with Melas, 15th June. Dec. 24 (3d Nivdése).—Attempt to assassinate Napoleon by infernal machine. Feb. 9.—Treaty of Lunéville between France and Germany. July 15.—Concordat with Rome. Oct. 1—Preliminaries of peace between France and Eng: land signed at London. Jan. 26.—Napoleon Vice-President of Italian Republic. March 27.—Treaty of Amiens. Ace. Date. 32. 32. 33- 33- 34- 34-35- 34 30. 36. 36. 36. 36. 37- 37. 37- 37. 38. 38. 39. 1802. 1802. 1803. 1803. 1804. 1804. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1806. 1806. 1806. 1807. 1807. 1807. 1808. 1808. CHRONOLOGY 473 EVENT. May 19.—Legion of Honor instituted; carried out 14th July, 1814. Aug. 4.—Napoleon First Consul for life. May.—War between France and England. March 5.—Civil Code (later Code Napoleon) decreed. March 21.—Duc d’Enghien shot at Vincennes. May 18—Napoleon, Emperor of the French people; crowned, 2d Dec. May 26.—Napoleon crowned king of Italy at Milan, with jron crown. Ulm campaign; 25th Sept., Napoleon crosses the Rhine; 14th Oct., battle of Elchingen; 2oth Oct., Mack sur- renders Ulm. Oct. 21.—Battle of Trafalgar. Dec. 2.—Russians and Austrians defeated at Austerlitz. Dec. 26.—Treaty of Presburg. July 1—Confederation of the Rhine formed; Napoleon protector. Jena campaign with Prussia. Battles of Jena and of Auerstadt, 14th Oct.; Berlin occupied, 27th Oct. Nov. 21.—Berlin decrees issued. Feb. 8.—Battle of Eylau with Russians, indecisive; 14th June, battle of Friedland, decisive. July 8 and 9.—Treaty of Tilsit signed. Oct. 27—Secret treaty of Fontainebleau between France and Spain for the partition of Portugal. March.—French gradually occupy Spain; Joseph Bonaparte transferred from Naples to Spain; replaced at Naples by Murat. Sept. 27 to Oct. 14.—Conferences at Erfurt between Na- poleon, Alexander and German sovereigns. 474 LIFE OF NAPOLEON AcE. Date. EvENT. 39. 1808. Nov. and Dec.—Napoleon beats the Spanish armies ; enters Madrid; marches against Moore, but suddenly re- turns to France in January, 1809, to prepare for Aus- trian campaign. ‘ 39. 1809. Campaign of Wagram. Austrians advance, roth April; Napoleon occupies Vienna, 13th May; beaten back at Essling, 22d May; finally crosses Danube, 4th July, and defeats Austrians at Wagram, 6th July. 40. 1809. Oct. 14.—Treaty of Schénbrunn or of Vienna. 40. 1809. Dec.—Josephine divorced. 40. 1810. April 1 and 2.—Marriage of Napoleon, aged 40, with Marie Louise, aged 18 years 3 months. 41. 1810. Dec—Hanseatic towns and all northern coast of Ger- many annexed to French Empire. 41. 1811. March 20.——The King of Rome, son of Napoleon, born. 43-43. 1812.—War with Russia; June 24, Napoleon crosses the Niemen; 7th Sept., battle of Moskwa or Borodino; Napoleon enters Moscow, 15th Sept.; commences his retreat, roth Oct. 43. 1812. Oct. 22-23.—Conspiracy of General Malet at Paris. 43. 1812. Nov. 26-28.—Passage of the Beresina; 5th Dec., Napoleon leaves his army; arrives at Paris, 18th Dec. 43-44. 1813. Leipsic campaign. 2d May, Napoleon defeats Russians and Prussians at Liitzen; and again, on 2oth-21st May, at Bautzen; 26th June, interview of Napoleon and Metter- nich at Dresden; toth Aug., midnight, Austria joins the allies; 26th-27th Aug., Napoleon defeats allies at Dresden, but Vandamme is routed at Kulm on 3oth Aug., and on 16th-19th Oct. Napoleon is beaten at Leipsic. 44. 1814. Allies advance into France; 29th Jan., battle of Brienne; Ist Feb., battle of La Rothiére. 44. 1814. Feb. 5 to March 18.—Conferences of Chatillon (sur Seine). 44. 1814. Feb. 11.—Battle of Montmirail; 14th Feb., of Vauchamps; 18th Feb., of Montereau. CHRONOLOGY 475 Ace. Date. Event. 44. 1814. March 7.—Battle of Craon; 9th-10th March, Laon; 2oth March, Arcis sur 1’ Aube. 44. 1814. March 21—Napoleon commences his march to throw him- self on the communications of the allies; 25th March, allies commence their march on Paris; battle of La Fére Champenoise, Marmont and Mortier beaten; 28th March, Napoleon turns back at St. Dizier to follow allies; 29th March, empress and court leave Paris. 44. 1814. March 30.—Paris capitulates; allied sovereigns enter on 1st April. 44. 1814. April 2—Senate declares the deposition of Napoleon, who abdicates, conditionally, on 4th April. in favor of his son, and unconditionally on 6th April; Marmont’s corps marches into the enemy’s lines on sth April; on 11th April, Napoleon signs the treaty giving him Elba for life; 2oth April, Napoleon takes leave of the Guard at Fontainebleau; 3d May; Louis XVIII. enters Paris; 4th May, Napoleon lands in Elba. 45. 1814. Oct. 3.—Congress of Vienna meets for settlement of Europe; actually opens 3d Nov. 45. 1815. Feb. 26—Napoleon quits Elba; lands near Cannes, Ist March; 19th March, Louis XVIII. leaves Paris; 2oth March, Napoleon enters Paris. 45. 1815. June 16.—Battle of Ligny and Quatre Bras; 18th June, bat- tle of Waterloo. 45-46. 1815. June 29.—Napoleon leaves Malmaison for Rochefort; sur- renders to English, 15th July; sails for St. Helena, 8th Aug.; arrives at St. Helena, 15th Oct. : oe \ 1821. May 5.—Napoleon dies, 5.45 P. M.; buried, 8th May. 1821. May 5.—Napoleon dies, 5.45 P. M. ; buried, 8th May. 1840. Oct. 15.—Body of Napoleon disentombed ; embarked in the “ Belle Poule,” commanded by the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis Philippe, on 16th Oct.; placed in the Inva- lides, 15th Dec., 1840. INDEX A Abdication of Napoleon, 263. Aboukir Bay, 91, 93. Adige, 68, 71, 72. Alexander I., Emperor of Russia, 168, 175, 201, 203, 235. Alvinzi, 71, 72. Amiens, treaty of, 103. Amiens, treaty of, broken, 103, 143. Anna Paulowna, 225. Arcola, bridge of, 72, 78. Armstrong, U. S. Minister France, 195, 196. Army of Egypt, 91, Army of Italy, 61, 62, 81. Art acquisitions from Italy, 82, 83. Aspern, 215. Augereau, 62, 63, 259. Austerlitz, battle of, 167, 168, 169. Austria, Emperor of, 17. Austrian army, 67, 68, 69. Austrian army, driven from Italy, 73- Austrians, 64-66. Austrians at Rivoli, 73. Autun, 19, 21, 31. B Bacciochi, Mme., 89. Baden, Grand Duchess of, 407. Baden, Prince Auguste of, 389. Bank of France, 107. Barras, Paul, 47, 48, 53, 54-55, 340, 341, 342, 344, 345. Bassano, 69, 71. to Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle of Austerlitz, 167, 168, 169. of Bautzen, 253. of Borodino, 243. of Eylau, 173. of Friedland, 173, 175. of Hohenlinden, 103. of Jena, 171, 172. of La Favorita, 73. of Lodi, 65, 66. of Litzen, 253. of Marengo, 98, 99, rot. of Pyramids, go. of Rivoli, 73. Battle of Wagram, 216, 217, 219. Battle of Waterloo, 273. Bautzen, battle of, 253. Bay of Aboukir, see Aboukir Bay. Baylen, 198. Beauharnais, Alexander de, 328, 320, 330, 331, 332, 334, 335, 336, 337, 338. Beauharnais, Eugéne de, 80, 94, 179, 216, 222, 331, 332, 336, 340, 341, 342, 378, 390, 415, 418, 419, 421, 422, 437, 449. Beauharnais, Hortense de, 89, 332, 337, 340, 372, 373, 378, 401, 407, 408, 409, 415, 417, 433, 449-450. Beaulieu, 63, 65, 75. “Belle Poule,” 303, 305, 307, 308. “ Bellerophon,” 279, 283. Benningsen, 173. Berlin decree, 193, 195, 233. Bernadotte, 47, 171, 233, 235, 255. 222, 390, 431, 477 478 Bernard, Postmaster-general, 135. Berthier, Gen., 99, 187. Bertrand, 309, 318, 320. Bonaparte, Caroline, 31, 179. Bonaparte, Charles Marie de, 17, 18, 19, 21, 23, 31. Bonaparte, Eliza, 31, 179, 287. Bonaparte, Jerome, 31, 35, 37, 153; 154, 179, 181, 183, 320. Bonaparte, Joseph, 19, 21, 31, 32, 89, 179, 197, 198, 302, 320. Bonaparte, Louis, 31, 153, 179. Bonaparte, Lucien, 31, 43, 89, 148, 149, 154, 201. Bonaparte, Mme., 43. Bonaparte, Mme. Louis, 373, 374. Bonaparte, Pauline, 31, 179, 185, 391, 392. Borghese, Princess, 179. Borodino, Battle of, 243. Botanical garden at Malmaison, 366, 367. Boulogne, féte of, 155, 156. Bourbons of Spain, abdicate, 198.. Bourrienne, 25, 37-38, 222. Boyer, Christine, 43, 89. Brenta, 60, 71. Bridge of Lodi, 66. Brienne, 21, 22, 23, 25, 27, 28, 31. Broglie, Duc de, Marshal, 35. Brunswick, 172. Cc “Cabinet noir,” 135. Cabrera, Island of, 198. Cadiz, French fleet at, 198. Cadoudal, Georges, 143, 151, 152. Cambacérés, 153. Campan, Mme., 154, 340, 372, 373. Campo Formio, treaty of, 74. Carmes, les, 337, 338, 340. Castiglione, 68. Catholic Church re-established, 120, 121, 123, 124. INDEX Chardon, Abbé, 21. Charles, Archduke of Austria, 213, 217. Charles IV., King of Spain, 197. “Chemin d’Angleterre,” 145. Cherbourg, 308. Cisalpine Republic, 74, 98. Clary, Désirée, 45-46. Clary, Julie, 44. “Code Napoleon,” 125 127, 128, Colombier, Mlle., 29. Colombier, Mme., 29. “ Concordat” signed, 121, 123. Conscription, resentment against, 231. Constituent Assembly, 334. “ Continental blockade,” 193, 195. Coronation of Josephine, 381, 382- 385. Coronation of Napoleon, 156, 157, 159, 160. Corsica, 22, 34. Corsicans, revolt of, 18. Courbevoie, 309. Croissy, 54, 55, 330. D Dantzic, siege of, 173, 177. Danube, crossing of by French army, 216, 217. Davoust, 171, 172. d’Abrantes, Duchess, 45. d’Enghien, Duc, 151, 152. d’Orleans, Duc, 28-29. De Keéralio, 25, 26. De Molleville, 128. de Ségur, 156, 199, 200. Decree of Berlin, see Berlin decree. Decrés, Gen., 62. Denmark, 195. Denon, 138. Desaix, 99, 101. “ Description de l’Egypte,” 91. “Directory,” in regard to Italian campaign, 69, 72. INDEX “Directory,” 77, Donauwérth, 213. Duc d’Enghien, Duc. Duroc, Marshall, 253, 320. see d’Enghien, E Ecole militaire, 27, 28. 18th Brumaire, 94, 103. Elba, 265. Elysée Palace, 423. “ Emigrés,” 119, 120. Essling, 215. Eylau, battle of, 173. F Ferdinand, heir apparent of Spain, 197. Finland, 203. Fontainebleau, 379, 381. Fort Royale, 327. Fouché, 134, 211, 275, 401, 402. French army, in Italy, 60. Friedland, battle of, 173, 175. Fulton, Robert, 145, 147. G Gaété, Duc de, 107. “ Garde-Meuble,” 203. Gaudin, Mon., 107. Geoffroy-St.-Hilaire, 91. Girondins, 336. Goethe, 203. “Grand army,” 237, 239, 247. Great Britain, decree against, 193, 195. H Hesse-Cassel, 177. Hippolyte, Charles, 94, 354. Hoche, Gen., 337, 340. Hohenlinden, Lattle of, 103. Holland, King of, 179, 183, 233. Hotel des Invalides, 311, 313, 315, 317, 318, 319, 320. 479 I Institute of Egypt, 91. Island of Cabrera, see Cabrera, Is- land of. Italian campaign, 61. J Jena, battle of, 171, 172. John, Archduke, 216. Joinville, Prince de, 295, 303, 306, 307, 309, 313, 317, 318. Jomini, 256. Josephine, Vicomtesse de Beauhar- nais, 54-55, 57. Josephine, notre dame des victoires, 85. Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, Josephine, in Italy, 86, 87. Empress, 159, 160. divorced, 221, 222, 223. at Malmaison, 225. at Evreux, 228. Josephine, childhood, 326, 327. Josephine, at school, 327. Josephine, goes to France with her father, 330. Josephine, married Alexander de Beauharnais, 331. Josephine, divorced from Alexan- der de Beauharnais, 332. Josephine, in Paris, 334-336. Josephine, imprisoned in les Carmes, 337, 338. Josephine, at functions given by Directory, 340. Josephine, meets Napoleon, 342. Josephine, courted by Napoleon, 343. Josephine, feelings towards Napo- leon, 343-345. Josephine, married to Napoleon, 345. Josephine, goes to Italy, 347-349. Josephine, at Milan, 347-349, 351- 352. 4380 Josephine, Napoleon’s letters to, ~.348, 349. Josephine, returns to Paris from Italy, 353. Josephine, attitude Bonapartes, 354-355. Josephine, buys Malmaison, 355. Josephine, letter to Napoleon, 356- 358. Josephine, as wife of First Con- sul, 361-363, 365. Josephine, her appearance, 363. Josephine, fondness for flowers and dogs, 366, 367. Josephine, at St. Cloud, 375, 376. towards the 362, Josephine, proclaimed Empress, 377. Josephine, religious marriage to Napoleon, 381. Josephine, journey through Italy as Empress, 388, 380. Josephine, graciousness to others, 302, 303. Josephine, fondness for her toilet, 395-397. Josephine, her jewels, 307, 398. Josephine, crowned Empress, 381- 385. Josephine, hears rumors of divorce, 401, 406, 414. Josephine, at Bayonne, 404, 405. Josephine, at Plombiéres, 409, 411. Josephine, told of the divorce, 417, 418. Josephine, officially divorced, 419- 422. Josephine, retires to Malmaison after divorce, 422-426. Josephine, at Navarre, 427, 428. Josephine, at Malmaison, 430. Josephine, fondness for her grand- children, 437. Josephine, position in France, 440. INDEX Josephine, learns of Napoleon’s ab- dication, 446. Josephine, and the Emperor Alex- ander, 446, 447. Josephine, dies at Malmaison, 448, 449. Jouberthon, Mme., 154. Junot, 41, 42, 45, 61, 196, 198, 347. K Kellermann, 77. “ King of Rome,” 227, 228, 235, 261, 266, 435. KGnigsberg, 173. L La Favorita, battle of, 73. Landgrafenberg, 171. Lannes, 155, 207, 215. Las Cases, 283, 285, 303. “La Vendée,” 95. Le Brun, 153. Leclerc, Mme., 89. Lefebvre, Marshall, 173. “ Legion of Honor,” 125. “ Legitimists,”’ 302. Leipsic, 256. Ligny, 273. “ Little Corporal,” 78. Lobau, Island of, 213, 215, 216.. Lodi, 65, 66. Lodi, bridge of, 78, 83. Lombard Republic, 66. Lonato, 68. Longwood, 285-287. Louis XVIII., 269. Louis Philippe, 295, 300, 302, 318 Louise, Queen of Prussia, 177. Louisiana, sale of, 147, 148. Lowe, Sir Hudson, 285-287. Lyons, 269. Lucques, Princess of, 179. Lunéville, treaty of, 103. Liitzen, battle of, 253. INDEX M “Madame Mere,” 18, 153, 266. Magdeburg, 177. Maintenon, Mme. de, 27. Malet conspiracy, 248. Malmaison, 223, 225, 275, 355, 365- 367, 369-370, 374-375, 411, 422- 426, 428, 449-450. Mantua, siece of, 66-60, 71, 73. Marboeuf, Count de, 19, 23, 20. Marbot, 205. Marengo, battle of, 98-99, ror. Marie Louise, 17, 37, 225, 227-228, 266, 271, 289. Marmont, 62, 263. Marrac, castle of, 404, 405. Martinique, Island of, 325, 326. Masson, 338. Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Prince of, 403. Melas, Gen., 97, 98. Meneval, 222, 223. Metternich, 253, 255. Mincio, 66. Minim Brothers, 22. Mion-Desplaces, Mlle., 31. Moldavia, 203. Moncey, Marshal, 317. Monge, ot. Mont Cenis, 160. Montenctte, 63. Montesson, Mme. de, 28-209. Montholon, 287. Montmorency, Mme. de, 200. Moreau, Gen., 95, 151-152, 255, 256. Moscow, 243, 245. Muiron, Col., 78. Murat, 197, 212, 258. Murat, Mme., 377. Museum of Paris, 81. N Naples, King of, 179, 181, 258. Napoleon, as a youth, 18, 19. 481 Napoleon, at school, 21, 22, 23, 25, 20. Napoleon, First Consul, 29. Napoleon, second lieutenant at Val- ence, 28-29, Napoleon, literary projects, 33, 34. Napoleon, in regard to finances, 35, 37. Napoleon, in Paris, 38, 39. Napoleon, command; Second Regi- ment of Artillery, 41. Napoleon, prisoner, 1794, 44. Napoleon, Committee of Public Safety, 48. Napoleon, General in chief of army of interior. 40 51. Napoleon, defends the Tuileries, 48, 49. Napoleon, in salon of Barras and Mme. Tallien, 54. Napoleon, courtship and marriage, 57, 58. Napoleon, love letters, 58, 50. Napoleon, General, army of Italy, 61-63. Napoleon, speech to his soldiers, 64. Napoleon, at Bridge of Lodi, 65, 66. Napoleon, enters Milan, 66. Napoleon, concludes peace with Na- ples, 67. Napoleon, at Lonato, 68. Napoleon, defeats Wurmser, 69. Napoleon, letter to Directory, 60, 71. Napoleon, Rivoli, 73. Napoleon, signs with Pope treaty of Tolentino, 73. Napoleon, signs treaty of Campo Formio, 74. Napoleon, rules of warfare, 75. Napoleon, fertility in stratagem, 75, 77. 482 Napoleon, answer to Directory, 77. Napoleon, soldiers’ adoration of, 77, 78. Napoleon, addresses to soldiers, 79, 81. : Napoleon, belief in signs, 83. Napoleon, letters to Josephine, 85, 86, 87. Napoleon, returns to Paris from Italy, 89. - oe Napoleon, commander jin chief. army of Egypt, 9o. aye Napoleon, in Egypt, 90, 915.93. Napoleon, failure of Syrian exper dition, 93. e ‘ Napoleon, returns to Baris from Egypt, 93, 94. Napoleon, Dictator of hanes 04. Napoleon, crossing the Alps, 97. Napoleon, addresses his’ soldiers, 08. ‘4 : Napoleon, at Marengo, 98. Napoleon, First Consul, 105, 106, | 107. f Napoleon, in regard to taxes, 108, | 109, ITO. ; Napoleon, his policy of protection, | 110, III. Napoleon, improvements made in Paris, 113. Napoleon, his vast industrial achievements, 113-115, 117. Napoleon, his amnesty to the Emi- grés, I19, 120. Napoleon, reéstablishes the Cath- olic Church in France, 120, 121, 123, 124. Napoleon, establishes school, 125. Napoleon, codification of the laws, 125, 127, 128. Napoleon, preparations for war against England, 144, 145. Napoleon, sells Louisiana, 147, 148. 124, INDEX. Napoleon, First Consul, ipo against his. life, 151. Napo!éon, Emperor, 153. Napoleon, Emperor, in matters of etiquette, 155. , Napoleon, -.Emperor, crowned at Notre Dame, 156, 157, 159. 160. Napoleon, addresses to his soldiers, 165. | ‘ Napoleon, King of Italy, 160. Napoleon, marches against the Aus- trians and Russians, 164, 165, 167. Napoleon, at Austerlitz, 167, 168 169. Napoleon, Napoleon, | at Jena, 71. / 3 Museum of Paris, 172... Napoleon, at battle of Jena, 172.- Napoleon, at battle of Eylau, 173. Napoleon, at battle of Friedland, 173, 175. Napoleon, at Tilsit, 175. Napoleon, treaty of Tilsit, 177, 178. Napoleon, advice to his brothers, 179, 181, 183. Napoleon, hatred against England, 191. Napoleon, policy towards Great Britain, 193, 195. : Napoleon, attitude towards Spain, 197, 108. Napoleon, founds a new nobility, 200. Napoleon, tries to reconcile Lucien, 201. Napoleon, meets Alexander I. at Erfurt, 203. Napoleon, Spanish campaign, 205, 206, 207, 209. Napoleon, charge against Talley- rand, 212. Napoleon, at battle of Wagram, 216, 217, 219. Napoleon, divorces Josephine, 221, 222, 223. INDEX Napoleon, marries Marie Louise (by proxy), 225. Napoleon, imprisons the Pope, 229. Napoleon, preparing for Russian campaign, 237. : Napoleon, at Moscow, 243. Napo.eon, retreat from Moscow, 243, 245, 247. Napoleon, campaign of 1813, 253, 255, 256, 257. Napoleon, campaign of 1814, 258, 261, 262.. Napoleon, encamped at Fontaine- bleau, 262. Napoleon, abdication at Fontaine- bleau, 263. Napoleon, at Elba, 265, 266, 267, Napoleon, returns from Eiba, 267, 269, 271. Napoleon, his happiest period, 271. Napoleon, at Waterloo, 273, 275. Napoleon, abdicates anew, 275. Napoleon, plan to escape to United States, 275, 276, 277. Napoleon, gives himself up to English, 279. Napoleon, at St. Helena, 283, 285, 286, 287. Napoleon, dies at St. Helena, 287, 289. Napoleon, loved by his men, 293. Napoleon, body brought back to France, 305, 306, 307, 308, 309, 31I, 312. Napoleon, funeral in Paris, 312- 315, 317, 318. Napoleon, Charles, 374, 376, . 377, . 401, Napoleon, Louis, 401, 433. National Assembly, 34. “Nautilus,” Fulton’s diving boat, 147. Navarre, 423, 427, 428, 433, 435, 445. 483 Nelson, Lord, 91. Newspaper criticisms on Napo- leon’s return from Elba, 269. Ney, Marshal, 260. “ Northumberland,” 283. Notre Dame, 379. Notre dame des victoires, 85, 347. Oo O’Connell, 299, 300. O!lmiitz, 166. 167. O'Meara, 285. “ Opera plot,” 133. 134. “ Orleanists,” 302. Orleans, Duke of, see d’Orleans, Duc. P Paisiello, 141. Palmerston, Lord, 299, 300. Panthemont, Abbey de, 333, 340. Paoli, Pascal, 18, 19, 22. Papal States, 67, 73. Paris capitulates, 261. Patterson, Miss Elizabeth, 154. Permon, Mme., 53. Permons, 27, 28, 51. Pichegru, 151, 152. Pius VII. a prisoner, 229. Placentia, 65. Plombiéres, 353, 409, 411. Plot of the 3rd Nivdése, 133, 134. Plymouth, 279. Po, crossing of the, 65. Poland, 172, 173. Ponte-Corvo, Prince of, 235. Pontécoulant, Monsieur de, 51. Portugal, 195, 198. Portugal divided, 196. Portugal forced to close ports, 196 Presburg, treaty of, 169. Press censorship, 135. Provera, 72, 73. Prussia, King of, 175. | Pyramids, battle of, go. 484 Q Quasdanovich, 67-68. * Quatre Bras,” 273. R Rambouillet, 403. Ramolino, Laetitia, 17, 18. Ratisbonne, 213. Raynal, Abbé, 33. Rémusat, Count de, 303. ° ' Rémusat, Mme. de, 154, 155, 362, 392, 424. Renaudin, Mon., 328. Renaudin, Mme., 328, 320, 330, 331, 333- Reuil, 449. Revolution of 1789, 34. R voli, battle of, 73. Robespierre, the elder, 43-44. Robespierre, the younger, 43, 339. rete Rochefoucauld, Duc de la, 329, 334. Rouen, 308. Russia, Emperor of, 201, 203. ; S Saale, 171. St. Cloud, 223, 374, 375. St. Cyr, 31. Saint-Germain, Comte de, 35. St. Helena, 283, 285, 286. St. Pierre, town of, 325. Salon, 138. Saragossa, siege of, 206, 207, 209. Sardinians, sue for peace, 64. Sannois, Mlle. Rose-Claire des Ver- gers de, 326. Savona, 229. Saxony, King of, 177. Schonbrunn, Castle of, 216. School of Fine Arts, 28. Second revolution, 37-38. Segur, Mon. de, see de Mon. Segur, INDEX Serbelloni, Duc de, 348, 349, 351. 3 Sieyés, Abbé, 105, 106. Smolensk, 241, 243, 247. Soult, 168. Spain, Government of, 197, 198. Spain, King of, 196, 198, 257. Spanish campaign, 205, 206, 207, 209. Staél, Mme. de, 135, 137, 431. Sweden, 233. Syrian expedition, 93. T Tagliamento, crossed, 74. Talleyrand, 211, 212, 262, 275, 301, 399, 401. Tallien, Mme., 54, 55, 338, 339, 340, 342, 347, 358. Talma, 360. Tascher de la Pagerie, Joseph, 325, 326, 328, 330. , Théatre Francais, 203. Thiérs, Mon., 300, 301. Tilsit, treaty of 175, 177, 178. Tolentino, treaty of, 73. Toulon, 41. Treaty of Amiens, 103. Treaty of Campo Formio, 74. Treaty of Lunéville. 103. Treaty of Presburg, 169. Treaty of Ti'sit, 175, 177, 178. Treaty of Tolentino, 73, Trieste, 219. Trois Ilets, 325, 326, 327. Tuileries, 381. U Ulm, capitulati n of, 165. United States not allowed to re- main neutral, 196. “Unnatural alliance,” 235. Vv Valence, 29. Verona, 71-73. INDEX 485 Volta, 138, 139. Wallachia, 203. Vienna, 213, 216. Warsaw, 177. Vimeiro, 198. Waterloo, battle of, 273. Visconti, Mme. de, 187. Westphalia, 177. Vittoria, 198. Westphalia, King of, 179. Wieland, 203. Ww Wilder, S. V. S., 276. Wagram, Austrians’ position, 216. | William, Prince of Prussia, 203. Wagram, battle of, 216, 217, 219. | Wurmser, Gen., 67, 68, 60, 72. Walewski, Mme., 401, 403, 404,/ Wurmser surrenders, 73. 412. Finis Printed in the United States of America. Ot eee Lit yh aR rd A ti Sa ised ein te iar crt alter tertile elated atte (Meg aad noha ee Slee Da a reread ae fasted tndodeaesrnnee nl oem oe are one EE eR ante ote brig spa Rad eae neaoni eer pane ern paee loth eaided eee ayer ee en Pate nae ea eee we era et ee eae teat porate ee) kG Rica exec aed or ere ro ounce ts errs - erie a ne aan ee ee Eset sehr me Sep aeet yea Seer he ae a Pade Pad eta Patek Pol ee eee Eres = y : e f 5 Ane . Sie h Cie : Series ; esis PREP ere oi 7 Sada Be ere eile alee, >, g Pb reoeatee aor pores eres “¢ : RS ‘ ror : ea a ? 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