EX LIBRIS 
 
 H. B. MAPI-ETON, M.D. 
 

NAPOLEON. 
 
NAPOLEON 
 
 T. P. O'CONNOR, 
 ' t 
 
 AUTHOR OF " SOME OLD LOVE STORIES. 
 
 LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, LD. 
 
 1896. 
 
(7 
 
 * , s ^'* . a **2 ;' i 
 
 :.:.:::/:/'*> 
 
 F. M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, 
 CRYSTAL PALACB, S.E. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I HAVE thought of various methods for presenting 
 these Essays in a collected form. The first and 
 most natural suggestion was that I should, after 
 a careful comparison of their conflicting points 
 of view, and an assortment of their statements, 
 present to the reader a final estimate and a 
 finished picture. I found it impossible to adopt 
 this course. Napoleon had so many sides ; was 
 not only so contradictory in himself, but pro- 
 duced such contradictory impressions on different 
 people, that it lay far beyond my power to make 
 one consistent picture of him, and to decide with 
 anything like confidence between testimony at 
 once so contradictory and so authoritative. The 
 plan to which I have been driven, then, is to 
 present these Essays pretty much as they origi- 
 nally appeared which means that I have made 
 
 848219 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 myself the interpreter, and not the judge, of the 
 witnesses and of the evidence. I am conscious 
 of the disadvantages of such a plan ; but, on the 
 other hand, it has its compensations. The reader 
 will have ample material for forming his own 
 judgment : Napoleon, too, will be presented in 
 his vast many-sidedness ; and finally, there will 
 probably be in the reader's mind, after hearing 
 all these conflicting voices, a nearer approach to 
 a just and accurate estimate of Napoleon than 
 if he had read any one set of witnesses, or if 
 he had been confronted with a self-confident 
 judgment on the final merits of the evidence. 
 No human character is mathematical in its lines ; 
 and historical characters especially are much less 
 consistent, either in their goodness or their bad- 
 ness, than their admirers and their foes represent. 
 The final picture of Napoleon which these Essays 
 will leave in the minds of the reader will, I expect, 
 be somewhat blurred, inconsistent perhaps even 
 chaotic. The picture, perhaps, will be for all 
 this the nearer to reality. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 TAINE'S PORTRAIT I 
 
 I. Napoleon an Italian I 
 
 II. His Italian temperament .... 3 
 
 in. In deshabille 6 
 
 IV. His Italian loquacity 8 
 
 v. And his sensibility 9 
 
 vi. His moments of cowardice . . . .11 
 
 vii. Napoleon's family 14 
 
 Viil. Napoleon's beginnings 17 
 
 ix. His power of command .... 20 
 
 x. An early portrait 22 
 
 XI. His power of work ..... 24 
 
 XII. The power of taking pains .... 26 
 
 xiil. His mastery of detail 28 
 
 xiv. His grasp of character 32 
 
 xv. What his memory held . . . v . 35 
 
 xvi. His imaginativeness . . . . .38 
 
 xvn. Dreams of a new religion .... 40 
 
 xvni. His Court -43 
 
 XIX. His rudeness 47 
 
 xx. His aggressiveness 49 
 
 XXI. His treatment of his Ministers ... 50 
 
 xxn. The dependence of the Marshals ... 52 
 
 xxill. His hatred of independence 54 
 
 xxiv. His estimate of humanity 57 
 
 xxv. His judgments on himself .... 60 
 
 xxvi. The causes of his fall . . . . .62 
 
 xxvil. The instability of his rule .... 64 
 
 xxvin. His obstinate egotism ..... 66 
 
viii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE ESTIMATE OF A WORSHIPPER .... 70 
 
 I. Meneval 70 
 
 II. A hero worshipper 72 
 
 in. Napoleon appears 73 
 
 iv. Meneval starts work 75 
 
 v. First dictation 77 
 
 vi. A portrait of Napoleon 79 
 
 vu. Napoleon at table 82 
 
 viii. Life at Malmaison 83 
 
 ix. Josephine's occupations . . . -85 
 
 x. Meneval charmed 87 
 
 XL The shadow of a crime . . . . .88 
 
 XII. Napoleon's power of work . . , . .89 
 
 xin. Napoleon in his study . . . .92 
 
 xiv. Napoleon as a man of letters 93 
 
 XV. Napoleon's orthography .... 95 
 
 xvi. Lapses -97 
 
 xvn. Was Napoleon superstitious ? . . .98 
 
 xviii. Curious characteristics 100 
 
 xix. Daily habits 102 
 
 XX. Napoleon in the field 104 
 
 xxi. The descent begun 107 
 
 xxn. Napoleon's forlorn young heir . . . 109 
 xxin. A doomed man in 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ESTIMATE OF AN OFFICIAL . . . . . 113 
 
 I. The Pasquier dynasty 113 
 
 n. The old regime . . . . . .114 
 
 in. Paris before the storm . . . . 117 
 
 iv. The taking of the Bastille . . . .119 
 
 V. The Girondists . . . . . .120 
 
 vi. The advance of the storm . . . .121 
 
 vu. A narrow escape . . . . . .123 
 
 viii. A terrible plan 125 
 
Contents. ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IX. The death of the King . . . . . 125 
 
 x. The Reign of Terror 127 
 
 XT. Another narrow escape 129 
 
 xn. A rescuing angel 132 
 
 xin. Still the Reign of Terror . . . .134 
 
 XIV. A prison scene 137 
 
 XV. A prison terrorist 139 
 
 xvi. Napoleon ....... 141 
 
 xvn. The return from Egypt 142 
 
 xvin. Napoleon's moment of fear . . . .144 
 
 XIX. Talleyrand 145 
 
 XX. Talleyrand's treachery 146 
 
 XXI. Humiliation of Germany .... 148 
 
 XXII. The Talleyrand intrigue . . . .150 
 
 xxiii. Napoleon in a passion . . . . . 152 
 
 xxiv. A curious Bonaparte trait . . . .154 
 
 xxv. The female Bonapartes 156 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AS NAPOLEON APPEARED TO A RELATIVE . . .159 
 
 I. About the Bastille 160 
 
 II. The hanging of Foulon . . . .162 
 
 ill. " To Paris " . . . . . . .164 
 
 IV. Paris during the massacre . . . .166 
 
 v. How a village was affected by the overturn . 168 
 
 VI. A first view of Napoleon . . . .171 
 
 VH. Napoleon and Josephine .... 172 
 
 VHI. Labours and fatigues . . . . .173 
 
 ix. The return from Elba 175 
 
 x. A changed France 177 
 
 XI. Waterloo 179 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Nj NAPOLEON, AS HE APPEARED TO A SOLDIER . . 1 82 
 
 I. Glimpses of the Terror 184 
 
 II. The Revolution in the school . . . 187 
 
 A* 
 
Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 in. First sight of Napoleon . . . .189 
 IV. Napoleon often deceived .... 195 
 v. Napoleon's diplomatic methods . . . 200 
 
 vi. Austerlitz 203 
 
 vii. The path of glory ...... 207 
 
 VHI. Napoleon and his troops .... 208 
 
 ix. The rise of the house of Rothschild . . 209 
 x. Napoleon and Queen Louise . . ' .212 
 
 XL Napoleon wounded 213 
 
 xn. Napoleon and the Grenadier . . . 215 
 
 xiii. Detection of a spy 217 
 
 xtv. Napoleon as Haroun-al-Raschid . . .219 
 xv. Marbot in a tight place .... 222 
 
 xvi. The end of the adventure .... 226 
 
 xvn. After Moscow ...... 229 
 
 xvin. The blood tax . . . . . . 230 
 
 xix. The defeat at Leipsic 233 
 
 xx. Napoleon as a friend 234 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S CHIEF DETRACTOR 237 
 
 I. Nearly a great man 238 
 
 II. Barras and Robespierre a contrast . . 239 
 
 in. The Incorruptible at home .... 240 
 
 IV. A memorable interview .... 243 
 
 v. Danton 246 
 
 vi. Robespierre's lust for blood . . . .248 
 
 vii. Fouquier-Tinville 249 
 
 viii. Two notorious women 254 
 
 IX. The symmetry of Barras's villainy . . 257 
 
 x. Two portraits Barras and Robespierre . 258 
 
 xi. Napoleon and Josephine .... 260 
 
 XII. Josephine's tears 264 
 
 xiii. Her story to Napoleon . . . . 268 
 xiv. Barras's most deadly charge . . .272 
 
Contents. xi 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JOSEPHINE . .275 
 
 I. Early years . . . . . . . 280 
 
 II. In the Artillery 283 
 
 in. Early poverty 285 
 
 IV. A youthful cynic . . . . . .288 
 
 v. Flight from Corsica 291 
 
 vi. A first chance 294 
 
 vii. He . 298 
 
 vin. She 299 
 
 IX. Bonaparte knocks 300 
 
 x. The room .301 
 
 XI. Enter Josephine 302 
 
 xii. The fascination begins 303 
 
 xill. In the toils 305 
 
 xiv. Venial mendacities 307 
 
 XV. Dithyrambic love 310 
 
 XVI. Suspicion . . . . . . 312 
 
 xvil. Frivolous Josephine 313 
 
 xvm. The first quarrels 317 
 
 xix. Hippolyte Charles 322 
 
 xx. In Egypt 323 
 
 xxi. Hopeless Josephine 331 
 
 XXH. Napoleon's infidelities 333 
 
 xxni. Madame Walewska 335 
 
 xxiv. The divorce 338 
 
 xxv. After the divorce 342 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MARIE LOUISE 344 
 
 I. The Corsican ogre . 344 
 
 II. The rearing of Marie Louise . . . 347 
 
 III. Iphigenia ....... 350 
 
 IV. Everlasting peace 351 
 
 v. The bridegroom 354 
 
 vi. As a Western odalisque . . . -355 
 
xii Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 vii. The gilded cage . . . . . -357 
 
 vili. The Nemesis of nature 359 
 
 ix. The first meeting .361 
 
 x. An escapade 363 
 
 XI. A portrait 366 
 
 xn. Self-distrust 368 
 
 xin. Napoleon's foibles 369 
 
 XIV. Household changes 371 
 
 xv. Horseplay 373 
 
 xvi. Delicacy 375 
 
 xvn. A son 377 
 
 xvm. Napoleon as a father 378 
 
 xix. Marie Louise's treason 379 
 
 xx. Neipperg 380 
 
 xxi. II Serenissimo . . . . .381 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "NAPOLEON'S LAST VOYAGES 384 
 
 I. An adventurous enterprise .... 384 
 
 II. Marseilles after the abdication . . . 387 
 
 in. The fallen Emperor 389 
 
 IV. Departure for Elba 391 
 
 v. Napoleon's powers of observation . . 393 
 
 vi. Ruler of Elba 394 
 
 vn. The voyage to St. Helena .... 397 
 
 viii. A caged lion 398 
 
 ix. Life in St. Helena . . . . . .401 
 
 x. Napoleon's selfishness 402 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A FINAL PICTURE 405 
 
 I. Waterloo 406 
 
 ii. The battle 408 
 
 in. Napoleon . 410 
 
 iv. Napoleon in retreat 414 
 
NAPOLEONS 
 
 r : : > 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TAINE'S PORTRAIT,* 
 
 I BEGIN the series of portraits by giving that of 
 Taine. It is the most finished and the most 
 powerful. Indeed, I know scarcely any portrait 
 in literature in which there is more dazzling 
 literary skill ; but it is a portrait by an avowed 
 and a bitter enemy. It is too peremptory and too 
 consistent; above all, it is a portrait drawn by 
 what I may call a literary absolutist the artist 
 who insists that human figures should follow the 
 rigidity of a philosopher's scientific rules. 
 
 NAPOLEON AN ITALIAN. 
 
 THE first point which Taine brings out is that this 
 mighty despot, who ruled France as she had never 
 been ruled before, was not even a Frenchman. 
 Not only in blood and in birth, but in feeling he 
 
 * "The Modern Regime." Vol. I. By H. A. Taine. 
 Translated by John Durand. (London : Sampson Low, 
 Marston, & Co.) 
 
2 Napoleon. 
 
 was an Italian. He remained, in some respects, 
 an Italian all his life. In Taine's eyes, too, he is 
 not only an Italian, but an Italian of the Middle 
 Ages. "He belongs/' says Taine, "to another 
 raee and ' airolhcr. -epoch." And then, in a series 
 of wonderful passages, Taine traces back the 
 heritage of Napoleon to those men and those 
 times. " The man-plant/' says Alfieri, " is in no 
 country born more vigorous than in Italy," "and 
 never," goes on Taine, "in Italy was it so vigorous 
 as from 1300 to 1500, from the contemporaries of 
 Dante down to those of Michael Angelo, Caesar 
 Borgia, Julius II., and Macchiavelli." In those 
 times great personalities fought for crowns, money, 
 and life at one cast, and when they succeeded, es- 
 tablished a government remarkable for splendour, 
 order, and firmness. This was the period of great 
 adventurers great in battle, great in council, 
 great in courage, great in imagination, great in 
 their love of the arts. All these qualities are 
 reproduced in Napoleon. 
 
 " He is," says Taine, " a posthumous brother 
 of Dante and Michael Angelo ; in the clear 
 outlines of his vision, in the intensity, coherence, 
 and inward logic of his reverie, in the profundity 
 of his meditations, in the superhuman grandeur of 
 his conceptions, he is, indeed, their fellow and 
 their equal. His genius is of the same stature 
 and the same structure ; he is one of the three 
 sovereign minds of the Italian Renaissance, only, 
 
Taine's Portrait. 3 
 
 while the first two operated on paper and on 
 marble, the latter operates on the living being, on 
 the sensitive and suffering flesh of humanity." 
 
 ii. 
 
 HIS ITALIAN TEMPERAMENT. 
 
 ANALYSING Napoleon's temperament, Taine also 
 finds that it belongs to another race and another 
 epoch. " Three hundred years of police and of 
 courts of justice," "of social discipline and peaceful 
 habits/' "have diminished the force and violence 
 of the passions natural to men," but in Italy, at 
 the period of the Renaissance, those passions were 
 still intact. 
 
 " Human emotions at that time were keener 
 and more profound than at the present day; the 
 appetites were ardent and more unbridled ; man's 
 will was more impetuous and more tenacious ; 
 whatever motive inspired him, whether pride, 
 ambition, jealousy, hatred, love, envy, or sen- 
 suality, the inward spring strained with an energy 
 and relaxed with a violence that has now dis- 
 appeared. All these energies reappear in the 
 great survivor of the fifteenth century; in him 
 the play of the nervous machine is the same as 
 with his Italian ancestors. Never was there, even 
 among the Malatestas or Borgias, a more sensitive 
 and impulsive intellect, more capable of such 
 electric shocks and explosions, in which the roar 
 
 B 2 
 
4 Napoleon. 
 
 and flashes of the tempest lasted longer, and of 
 which the effects were more irresistible. In his 
 mind no idea seems speculative and pure; none 
 is a simple transcript of the real, or a simple 
 picture of the possible ; each is an internal eruption, 
 which suddenly and spontaneously spends itself in 
 action; each darts forth to its goal, and would 
 reach it without stopping were it not kept back 
 and restrained by force." 
 
 Of this Italian explosiveness of nature, Taine 
 gives scores of examples. This conception of 
 Napoleon's character differs fundamentally from 
 many of our preconceived notions ; and from the 
 idea of himself which Napoleon was able to 
 convey in public and to all who did not know 
 him intimately during his lifetime. " The public 
 and the army regarded him as impassive;" in his 
 battles " he wears a mask of bronze ; " in " official 
 ceremonies he wears a necessarily dignified air;" 
 and in most pictures of him which I have seen, 
 one gets the impression of a profoundly immutable 
 calm. But the real Napoleon was altogether 
 different from this. A more sensitive, restless, 
 irritable nature never existed. His emotions are 
 so rapid that they intercept each other, and emotion 
 irresistibly compels immediate action. 
 
 " Impression and expression with him are 
 almost always confounded, the inward overflowing 
 in the outward, the action, like a blow, getting 
 the better of him." 
 
Taine's Portrait. 5 
 
 " At Paris, towards the end of the Concordat, 
 he says to Senator Volney, ' France wants a 
 religion.' Volney replies, in a frank, sententious 
 way, 'France wants the Bourbons.' Whereupon 
 he gives Volney a kick in the stomach, and he 
 falls unconscious. On his being conveyed to a 
 friend's house he remains there ill for several days. 
 No man is more irritable, so soon in a passion, 
 and all the more because he purposely gives way 
 to his irritation ; for, doing this just at the right 
 moment, and especially before witnesses, it strikes 
 terror it enables him to extort concessions and 
 maintain obedience ; while his explosions of anger, 
 half calculated, half involuntary, serve him quite 
 as much as they relieve him, in public as in 
 private, with strangers as with intimates, before 
 constituted bodies, with the Pope, with cardinals, 
 with ambassadors, with Talleyrand, with Beugnot, 
 with anybody that comes along, whenever he 
 wishes to set an example or 'keep the people 
 around him on the alert.' " 
 
 His unfortunate wife is one of the greatest 
 victims of this violence, and even at the moment 
 when she has most right to complain. 
 
 "At St. Cloud, caught by Josephine in an act 
 of gallantry, he springs after the unlucky in- 
 truder in such a way that she has barely time 
 to escape ; and, again, that evening, keeping 
 tip his fury, so as to put her down completely, 
 ' he treats her in the most outrageous manner, 
 
6 Napoleon. 
 
 smashing every piece of furniture that comes in 
 his way.' " 
 
 And here is another example of the way in 
 which he treats his Ministers. 
 
 "A little before the Empire, Talleyrand, a 
 great mystifier, tells Berthier that the First Consul 
 wanted to assume the title of king. Berthier, in 
 eager haste, crosses the drawing-room full of 
 company, accosts the master of the house, and, 
 with a beaming smile, ' congratulates him.' At 
 the word 'king' Bonaparte's eyes flash. Grasp- 
 ing Berthier by the throat, he pushes his head 
 against a wall, exclaiming, ' You fool ! Who told 
 you to come here and stir up my bile in this way ? 
 Another time don't come on such errands.' Such 
 is the first impulse, the instinctive action, to 
 pounce on people and seize them by the throat. 
 We divine under each sentence, and on every 
 page he writes, outbursts and assaults of this 
 description ; the physiognomy and intonation of 
 a man who rushes forward and knocks people 
 down." 
 
 in. 
 
 IN DESHABILLE. 
 
 AND then there come some striking pictures of 
 Napoleon in his study and his dressing-room 
 where we see him in deshabille and as the natural 
 man. It is not a pleasant picture indeed, the 
 whole impression one gets from this study of 
 Napoleon is brutal, revolting. 
 
Taine's Portrait. ^ 
 
 "When dictating in his cabinet he strides 
 up and down the room,' and 'if excited,' which 
 is often the case, 'his language consists of 
 violent imprecations and oaths, which are sup- 
 pressed in what is written/ But these are not 
 always suppressed, and those who have seen the 
 original minutes of his correspondence on eccle- 
 siastical affairs find dozens of them of the coarsest 
 kind. . . . 
 
 " When dressing himself, he throws on the floor 
 or into the fire any part of his attire which does 
 not suit him. . . . On gala days, and on grand 
 ceremonial occasions, his valets are obliged to 
 agree together when they shall seize the right 
 moment to put something on him. . . . He tears 
 off or breaks whatever causes him the slightest 
 discomfort, while the poor valet who has been 
 the cause of it receives a violent and positive 
 proof of his anger. No thought was ever carried 
 away more by its own speed. ' His hand- 
 writing,' when he tries to write, ' is a mass of 
 disconnected and undecipherable signs ; the words 
 lack one half of their letters.' On reading it over 
 himself he cannot tell what it means. At last 
 he becomes almost incapable of writing an auto- 
 graph letter, while his signature is a mere scrawl. 
 He accordingly dictates, but so fast that his 
 secretaries can scarcely keep pace with him. On 
 their first attempt the perspiration flows freely, 
 and they succeed in noting down only the half 
 
8 Napoleon. 
 
 of what he says. Bourrienne, De Meneval, and 
 Maret invent a stenography of their own, for he 
 never repeats any of his sentences ; so much the 
 worse for the pen if it lags behind, and so much 
 the better if a volley of exclamations or of oaths 
 give it a chance to catch up." 
 
 IV. 
 HIS ITALIAN LOQUACITY. 
 
 ONE generally associates extraordinary military 
 genius with taciturnity; and there is also a dis- 
 position to regard reticence as an inevitable 
 accompaniment of great force of will, and of 
 genius in action. There are many good people 
 who really think that Mr. Gladstone cannot be 
 regarded as a man of genius in action for the 
 reason that he has talked so much throughout 
 his life. A study of Napoleon will dissipate this 
 idea; never was there a talker so incessant, so 
 impetuous, so daring. Here, again, his Italian 
 origin reveals itself. Italy is the land of im- 
 provisation, and over and over again Taine applies 
 to Napoleon the Italian term " improvisator e? 
 This is his description, for instance, of Napoleon 
 speaking at a Ministerial Council : 
 
 "Never did speech flow and overflow in such 
 torrents, often without either discretion or prudence, 
 even when the outburst is neither useful nor 
 creditable ; subject to this inward pressure the 
 improvisator and polemic, under full headway, 
 
Taine's Portrait. 9 
 
 take the place of the man of business and the 
 statesman. ' With him,' says a good observer, 
 ' talking is a prime necessity; and, assuredly, 
 among the highest prerogatives, he ranks first 
 that of speaking without interruption/ Even at 
 the Council of State he allows himself to run on, 
 forgetting the business before the meeting; he 
 starts off right and left with some digression or 
 demonstration, some invective or other for two or 
 three hours at a stretch, insisting over and over 
 again, bent on convincing or prevailing, and ending 
 by demanding of the others if he is not right, 
 4 and in this case, never failing to find that all 
 have yielded to the force of his argument.' On 
 reflection he knows the value of an assent thus 
 obtained, and, pointing to his chair, he observes : 
 ' It must be admitted that in that seat one thinks 
 with facility ! ' Nevertheless, he has enjoyed his 
 intellectual exercise and given way to his passion, 
 which controls him far more than he controls it." 
 
 v. 
 
 AND HIS SENSIBILITY. 
 
 IT is, however, one of the contradictions of this 
 extraordinary character, that he has moments of 
 intense and almost ingenuous sensibility. " He 
 who has looked upon thousands of dying men, 
 and has had thousands of men slaughtered, sobs 
 after Wagram and after Bautzen at the couch of 
 a dying comrade." " I saw him," says his valet, 
 
io Napoleon. 
 
 " weep while eating his breakfast, after coming 
 from Marshal Lannes' bedside ; big tears rolled 
 down his cheeks, and fell on his plate." 
 
 " It is not alone the physical sensation, the sight 
 of a bleeding, mangled body, which thus moves 
 him acutely and deeply ; for a word, a simple idea, 
 stings and penetrates almost as far. Before the 
 emotion of Dandolo, who pleads for Venice his 
 country, which is sold to Austria, he is agitated 
 and his eyes moisten. Speaking of the capitulation 
 of Baylen, at a full meeting of the Council of 
 State, his voice trembles, 'and he gives way to 
 his grief, his eyes even filling with tears/ In 
 1806, setting out for the army and on taking 
 leave of Josephine, he has a nervous attack, 
 which is so severe as to bring on vomiting. 
 'We had to make him sit down/ says an eye- 
 witness, 'and swallow some orange water. He 
 shed tears, and this lasted a quarter of an hour.' " 
 The same nervous crisis came on in 1808, when 
 he was deciding on the divorce. " He tosses 
 about a whole night, and laments like a woman. 
 He melts and embraces Josephine ; he is weaker 
 than she is. ' My poor Josephine, I can never 
 leave you ! ' Folding her in his arms, he declares 
 that she shall not quit him. He abandons him- 
 self wholly to the sensation of the moment; she 
 must undress at once, and lie beside him, and he 
 weeps over her ; ' literally,' she says, ' he soaked 
 the bed with his tears.' " 
 
Taine's Portrait. 1 1 
 
 VI. 
 HIS MOMENTS OF COWARDICE. 
 
 k 
 
 IT is also this extreme sensibility which accounts 
 
 for those few moments of abject cowardice that 
 stand out in the career of one of the most fear- 
 less human beings who ever lived. He himself 
 has always the dread that there would be a 
 breakdown in the nervous system a loss of 
 balance. " My nerves," he says of himself, " are 
 very irritable, and when in this state, were my 
 pulse not always regular, I should risk going 
 crazy." But his pulse does not always beat 
 regularly. 
 
 " He is twice taken unawares at times when 
 the peril was alarming and of a new kind. He, 
 so clear-headed and so cool under fire, the boldest 
 of military heroes, and the most audacious of 
 political adventurers, quails twice in a Par- 
 liamentary storm, and again in a popular crisis. 
 On the 1 8th of Brumaire, in the Corps Legislatif, 
 'he turned pale, trembled, and seemed to lose 
 his head at the shouts of outlawry. . . . They 
 had to drag him out . . . they even thought for 
 a moment that he was going to faint/ After 
 the abdication at Fontainebleau, on encountering 
 -the rage and imprecations which greeted him in 
 Provence, he seemed for some days to be morally 
 shattered ; the animal instinct asserts its 
 
12 Napoleon. 
 
 supremacy; he is afraid, and makes no attempt 
 of concealment. After borrowing the uniform 
 of an Austrian colonel, the casque of a Prussian 
 quartermaster, and the cloak of a Russian quarter- 
 master, he still considers that he is not sufficiently 
 disguised. In the inn at Calade ' he starts and 
 changes colour at the slightest noise ; ' the com- 
 missioners, who repeatedly enter the room, ' find 
 him always in tears.' ' He wearies them with 
 his anxieties and irresolution ; ' he says the 
 French Government would like to have him 
 assassinated on the road, refuses to eat for fear 
 of poison, and thinks that he might escape by 
 jumping out of the window. And yet he gives 
 vent to his feelings and lets his tongue run on 
 about himself, without stopping, concerning his 
 past, his character, unreservedly, indelicately, 
 trivially, like a cynic and one who is half crazy. 
 His ideas run loose and crowd each other like 
 the anarchical gatherings of a tumultuous mob ; 
 he does not recover his mastery of them until he 
 reaches Frejus, the end of his journey, where he 
 feels himself safe and protected from any highway 
 assault. Then only do they return within 
 ordinary limits, and fall back in regular line 
 under the control of the sovereign intellect, which 
 after sinking for a time, revives and resumes its 
 ascendency." 
 
 This strange, tasteless loquacity of Napoleon 
 without dignity, self-respect, or decency is one of 
 
Taine's Portrait. 13 
 
 the many features in his character which must 
 always be remembered if one wishes to have a 
 clear and full conception of him. I shall, by-and- 
 by, bring out the severer and more sinister aspects 
 of his nature ; for a moment let me lay stress on 
 this smaller, and what I might call more frivolous, 
 side of his character ; it adds grimness to his more 
 fatal and awful qualities. Some of his sayings at 
 the period to which I have just referred cannot 
 be transferred to the chaste pages of an English 
 book. Taine is justified in speaking of Napoleon 
 as giving under such circumstances "a glimpse 
 of the actor and even of the Italian buffoon ; " 
 and it was probably this aspect of his character 
 conjoined to others this petty buffoonery in 
 association with almost divine genius which 
 suggested the felicitous title of "Jupiter Scapin," 
 applied to him by M. de Pradt, who knew him 
 well. To this same M. de Pradt Napoleon spoke 
 very plainly after the return of the disastrous and 
 terrible expedition to Russia ; in these reflections 
 he appears " in the light of a comedian, who, 
 having played badly and failed in his part, retires 
 behind the scenes, runs down the piece, and 
 criticises the imperfections of the audience." This 
 " piece " which had sent hundreds of thousands to 
 violent death ! 
 
14 Napoleon. 
 
 VII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S FAMILY. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S father, Charles Bonaparte, was weak 
 and even frivolous, "too fond of pleasure to care 
 about his children," or his affairs ; he died at 
 thirty-nine of cancer of the stomach "which 
 seems to be the only bequest he made to his son, 
 Napoleon." His mother was altogether of a 
 different type a type, too, thoroughly Italian. 
 " Serious, authoritative," she was "the real head of 
 the family." She was, said Napoleon, " hard in her 
 affections; she punished and rewarded without 
 distinction good or bad ; she made us all feel it." 
 
 On becoming head of the household "she was too 
 parsimonious even ridiculously so. This was due 
 to excess of foresight on her part ; she had known 
 want, and her terrible sufferings were never out of 
 her mind. ... In other respects this woman, from 
 whom it would have been difficult to extract five 
 francs, would have given up everything to secure 
 my return from Elba, and after Waterloo she offered 
 me all she possessed to retrieve my fortunes." 
 
 Other accounts of her agree in saying that she 
 was " unboundedly avaricious ; " that she had " no 
 knowledge whatever of the usages of society ; " 
 that she was very " ignorant, not alone of ' French ' 
 literature but of her own." " The character of the 
 son," says Stendhal, "is to be explained by the 
 
Taine's Portrait. 15 
 
 perfectly Italian character of Madame Laetitia." 
 From her, too, he inherited his extraordinary 
 courage and resource. She was enceinte with her 
 great son at the very moment of the French 
 invasion, and she gave birth to him "amid the 
 risks of battle and defeat. . . . amidst mountain rides 
 on horseback, nocturnal surprises, and volleys of 
 musketry." "Losses, privations, and fatigue/' 
 says Napoleon, " she endured all, and braved all. 
 Hers was a man's head on a woman's shoulders." 
 
 The sisters of Napoleon are also remarkable 
 in their way though, as often happens, what is 
 strength in the men, degenerates in them into 
 self-destructive vice. 
 
 " Passion, sensuality, the habit of considering 
 themselves outside of rules, and self-confidence, 
 combined with talent, predominate in these women 
 as in those of the fifteenth century. Elisa, of Tus- 
 cany, had a vigorous brain, was high-spirited and a 
 genuine sovereign, notwithstanding the disorders 
 of her private life, in which even appearances were 
 not sufficiently maintained. Caroline of Naples, 
 without being more scrupulous than her sister, 
 * better observed the proprieties ; none of the others 
 so much resembled the Emperor.' 'With her all 
 tastes were subordinated to ambition ; ' it was she 
 who advised and prevailed upon her husband, 
 Murat,to desert Napoleon in 1814. As to Pauline, 
 the most beautiful woman of her epoch, ' no wife, 
 since that of the Emperor Claudius, surpassed her 
 
1 6 Napoleon. 
 
 in the use she dared make of her charms ; nothing 
 could stop her, not even a malady attributed to 
 her dissipation, and on account of which we have 
 often seen her borne on a litter/ " 
 
 This, perhaps, is the most effective and 
 deadliest blow at Napoleon in Taine's terrible 
 indictment. If to this despot had been appor- 
 tioned the female belongings of a man in, say, 
 Ratcliff Highway, we should know what it im- 
 plied. It would imply a family of brutal, pre- 
 datory, foul instincts. The inheritors of such 
 instincts would, in the case of the men, be the 
 denizens of gaols; in the case of the women, would 
 swell the ranks of prostitutes. 
 
 It is healthy, though not wholly comforting, to 
 be reminded of the similarity of human nature 
 through the vast differences of human rank and 
 fortunes. To those who are fearless realists like 
 Taine, there is a sombre joy in penetrating 
 through trappings and robes to the naked animal 
 beneath. Reflect for a moment that behind 
 the flowing Imperial robes at the High Altar in 
 Notre Dame, there is a nature, which in other 
 circumstances would be clothed in the garment 
 of a violent convict ; that these beautiful, delicate, 
 richly -bedizened women, whom Napoleon and 
 chance have placed on thrones, are of the same 
 mould as that brawling drab who is being haled 
 to the prison, or lies, broken and beaten, in the 
 bed of a hospital ! 
 
Taine's Portrait. 17 
 
 All the brothers of Napoleon were likewise re- 
 markable in their way; and finally, the family 
 picture is completed, and Napoleon's character 
 is also indicated by what Napoleon himself says 
 of one of his uncles. He " delights in calling to 
 mind one of his uncles who, in his infancy, prog- 
 nosticated to him that he would govern the world 
 because he was fond of lying." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S BEGINNINGS. 
 
 MOODY, rancorous, hating the French as the 
 conquerors of his country, Napoleon as a youth 
 looked on the events of the French Revolution 
 with the detachment of a foreigner. In 1792, 
 when the struggle between the monarchists and 
 the revolutionists was at its height, he tries to 
 find " some successful speculation," and thinks he 
 will hire and sub-let houses at a profit. On June 20 
 in the same year he sees the invasion of the 
 Tuileries, and the King at a window placing the 
 red cap on his head. " Che Coglione ! " (What a 
 cuckold !) he exclaims, and immediately after, 
 " How could they let the rabble enter ! Mow 
 down 400 or 500 of them with cannon-balls, and 
 the rest of them would run away." 
 
 " On August 10, when the tocsin is sounding, 
 he regards the people and the King with equal 
 contempt; he rushes to a friend's house on the 
 
 c 
 
1 8 Napoleon. 
 
 Carrousel, and there, still as a looker-on, views 
 at his ease all the occurrences of the day ; finally 
 the Chateau is forced, and he strolls through the 
 Tuileries, looks in at the neighbouring cafes, and 
 that is all. He is not disposed to take sides ; 
 he has no Jacobin or Royalist impulse. His 
 features, even, are so calm as to provoke many 
 hostile and distrustful remarks, ' as unknown 
 and suspicious.' None of the political or social 
 conditions which then exercised such control 
 over men's minds have any hold on him. . . . On 
 returning to Paris, after having knocked at several 
 doors, he takes Barras for a patron Barras, the 
 most brazen of the corrupt ; Barras, who has 
 overthrown and contrived the death of his two 
 former protectors. Among the contending parties 
 and fanaticisms which succeed each other, he 
 keeps cool and free to dispose of himself as 
 he pleases, indifferent to every cause, and caring 
 only for his own interest. On the evening of 
 the 1 2th of Vendemiaire, on leaving the Feydeau 
 Theatre, and noticing the preparations of the 
 Sections, he said to Junot : ' Ah, if the Sections 
 would only let me lead them ! I would guarantee 
 to place them in the Tuileries in two hours, 
 and have all those rascals of the Convention 
 turned out ! ' Five hours later, denounced by 
 Barras and the Convention, he takes * three 
 minutes' to make up his mind, and instead of 
 1 blowing up the representatives/ he shoots down 
 
Taine's Portrait. 19 
 
 Parisians like any other good condottiere, who, 
 holding himself in reserve, inclines to the first that 
 offers, and then to whoso offers the most, pre- 
 pared to back out afterwards, and who finally 
 grabs anything he can get." 
 
 And it is as a condottiere that Taine regards 
 Napoleon to the end. From this point of view 
 he surveys his whole career, and here is the result 
 of the inspection : 
 
 " He is like a condottiere, that is to say, a leader 
 of a band, getting more and more independent, 
 pretending to submit under the pretext of public 
 good, looking out solely for his own interest, cen- 
 treing all on himself, general on his own account 
 and for his own advantage in his Italian campaign 
 before and after the i8th of Fructidor. Still he 
 was a condottiere of the first class, already aspiring 
 to the loftiest summits, ' with no stopping-place but 
 the throne or the scaffold,' ' determined to master 
 France, and Europe through France, ever occupied 
 with his own plans, and demanding only three 
 hours 7 sleep a night ' ; making playthings of ideas, 
 people, religions, and governments; managing man- 
 kind with incomparable dexterity and brutality ; 
 in the choice of means, as of ends, a superior 
 artist, inexhaustible in prestige, seduction, cor- 
 ruption, and intimidation ; wonderful, and far 
 more terrible than any wild beast suddenly turned 
 on to a herd of browsing cattle. The expression 
 is not too strong, and was uttered by an eye- 
 
 C 2 
 
2O Napoleon. 
 
 witness almost at this very date, a friend and a 
 competent diplomat. ' You know that, though I 
 am very fond of the dear General, I call him 
 myself the little tiger, so as to properly characterise 
 his looks, tenacity, and courage, the rapidity of 
 his movements, and all that he has in him which 
 may be fairly regarded in that sense.' " 
 
 IX. 
 
 HIS POWER OF COMMAND. 
 
 POOR, forlorn, discontented, at first sight in- 
 significant in figure, and without any employment, 
 Napoleon in these early days might have been 
 passed by without much notice. But it is a 
 singular thing that the moment he attains any 
 position, people at once, involuntarily, even strongly 
 against their will, recognise and bow down before 
 his calmly arrogant capacity. There are/ for in- 
 stance, two portraits of him at the period in his 
 existence just following that to which we have 
 now reached, and both give the same impression 
 the one is by Madame de Stael, and is in words ; 
 the other is by Guerin, a truthful painter. Madame 
 de Stael meets him at a time when, having gained 
 some victories, she and the public generally are 
 sympathetic towards him ; and yet, she says, 
 "the recovery from the first excitement of ad- 
 miration was followed by a decided sense of 
 apprehension." He had then no power, and 
 
Taine's Portrait. 21 
 
 might any day be dismissed, and " thus the terror 
 he inspired was simply due to the singular effect 
 of his person on all who approach him." 
 
 " I had met men worthy of respect, and had 
 likewise met men of ferocious character ; but 
 nothing in the impression which Bonaparte pro- 
 duced on me reminded me of either. . . . A being 
 like him, wholly unlike anybody else, could neither 
 feel nor excite sympathy ; he was both more and 
 less than a man; his figure, intellect, and language 
 bore the impress of a foreign nationality. . . . Far 
 from being reassured on seeing Bonaparte oftener, 
 he intimidated one more and more every day. 
 .... He regards a human being as a fact, an 
 object, and not as a fellow-creature. He neither 
 hates nor loves : he exists for himself alone ; the 
 rest of humanity are merely ciphers. . . . Every 
 time that I heard him talk, I was struck with 
 his superiority. It bore no resemblance to that of 
 men informed and cultivated through study and 
 social intercourse, such as we find in France and 
 England ; his conversation concerned the material 
 fact only, like that of the hunter in pursuit 
 of his prey. His spirit seemed a cold, keen 
 sword-blade, which freezes while it wounds. I 
 realised a profound sense of irony which nothing 
 great or beautiful could withstand, not even his 
 own fame, for he despised the nation whose 
 suffrages he sought." 
 
22 Napoleon. 
 
 x. 
 
 AN EARLY PORTRAIT. 
 
 AND now, here is Taine's description of the 
 Gudrin portrait : 
 
 " Now, notice in Guerin, that spare body, 
 those narrow shoulders under the uniform wrinkled 
 by sudden movements, the neck swathed in its 
 high twisted cravat, those temples covered by 
 long, smooth, straight hair, exposing only the 
 mask, the hard features intensified through strong 
 contrasts of light and shade, the cheeks hollow 
 up to the inner angle of the eye, the projecting 
 cheekbones, the massive protuberant jaw, the 
 sinuous, mobile lips, pressed together as if at- 
 tentive, the large clear eyes, deeply sunk under 
 the broad arched eyebrows, the fixed oblique look, 
 as penetrating as a rapier, and the two creases 
 which extend from the base of the nose to the 
 brow, as if in a frown of suppressed anger and 
 determined will." 
 
 " Add to this the accounts of his contemporaries 
 who saw or heard the curt accent, or the sharp, 
 abrupt gesture, the interrogating, imperious, ab- 
 solute tone of voice, and we comprehend how it 
 was that the moment they accosted him, they felt 
 the dominating hand which seized them, pressed 
 them down, held them firmly, never relaxing its 
 grasp." 
 
Taine's Portrait. 23 
 
 Admiral Decres, who had known him well 
 in Paris, learns that he has to pass through Toulon 
 on his way to take up the command of the army 
 in Italy. He rushes to see an old acquaintance : 
 
 " ' I at once propose to my comrades to intro- 
 duce them, venturing to do so on the grounds of 
 my acquaintance with him in Paris. Full of eager- 
 ness and joy, I started off. The door opened, I am 
 about to press forward/ he afterwards wrote, * when 
 the attitude, the look, and the tone of voice suffice 
 to arrest me. And yet there was nothing offen- 
 sive about him ; still this was enough. I never 
 tried after that to overstep the line thus imposed 
 upon me.' A few days later, at Alberga, certain 
 generals of division, and amongst them Augereau, 
 a vulgar, heroic old soldier, vain of his tall figure 
 and courage, arrive at head-quarters, not well 
 disposed towards the little parvenu sent out to 
 them from Paris. Recalling the description of 
 him which had been given to them, Augereau 
 is abusive and insubordinate beforehand : 
 
 " ' One of Barras's favourites ! The Vendemiaire 
 General ! A street General ! Never been in action ! 
 Hasn't a friend ! Looks like a bear, because he 
 always thinks of himself! An insignificant figure ! 
 Said to be a mathematician and a dreamer ! ' 
 They enter, and Bonaparte keeps them waiting. 
 At last he appears with his sword and belt on, 
 explains the disposition of the forces, gives them 
 his orders and dismisses them. Augereau is 
 
24 Napoleon. 
 
 thunderstruck. Only when he gets out of doors 
 does he recover himself and fall back on his ac- 
 customed oaths. He agrees with Massena that 
 
 ' that little of a general frightened him.' He 
 
 cannot comprehend the ascendency 'which over- 
 awes him at the first glance.' " 
 
 One instance more will suffice. General Van- 
 damme, an old revolutionary soldier, still more 
 brutal and energetic than Augereau, said to 
 Marshal D'Ornano, one day when they were 
 ascending the staircase of the Tuileries together, 
 " My dear fellow, that devil of a man " (speaking 
 of the Emperor) " fascinates me in a way I cannot 
 account for. I, who don't fear either God or the. 
 Devil, tremble like a child when I approach him. 
 He would make me dash through the eye of a 
 needle into the fire ! " 
 
 XI. 
 
 HIS POT/ER OF WORK. 
 
 FROM almost the very first, Napoleon makes no 
 secret of his final purposes. Let us study the. 
 causes which enabled him to so successfully use 
 men and events to carry out these designs. 
 
 First among these are his extraordinary powers 
 of work and of mastering and remembering all 
 the details of every subject which can come under 
 the notice of a commander or a ruler. When one 
 reads the record of his gifts in this respect, one 
 
Taine's Portrait. 25 
 
 is for the moment tempted to forget all his 
 crimes, and to feel that he honestly earned his 
 success. 
 
 Take him, for instance, at the Council of 
 State : 
 
 " Punctual at every sitting, prolonging the 
 session four or six hours, discussing before and 
 afterwards the subject brought forward ... in- 
 forming himself about bygone acts of juris- 
 prudence, the laws of Louis XIV. and Frederick 
 the Great. . . . Never did the Council adjourn 
 without its members knowing more than they 
 did the day before, if only through the researches 
 he obliged them to make. Never did the members 
 of the Senate and Corps Le'gislatif, or of the 
 tribunal, pay their respects to him without being 
 rewarded for their homage by valuable instruc- 
 tions. He cannot be surrounded by public men 
 without being the head of all, all forming for him 
 a Council of State." 
 
 Here is another picture of him which tells the 
 same tale : 
 
 " ' What characterises him above them all/ is 
 not alone the penetration and universality of his 
 comprehension, but likewise and especially ' the 
 force, flexibility, and constancy of his attention. 
 He can work thirteen hours a day at a stretch, on 
 one or on several subjects. I never saw him tired, 
 I never found his mind lacking inspiration, even 
 when weary in body, nor when violently exercised, 
 
26 Napoleon. 
 
 nor when angry. I never saw him diverted from 
 one matter by another, turning from that under 
 discussion to one he had just finished or was 
 about to take up. The news, good or bad, he 
 received from Egypt did not divert his mind from 
 the civil code, nor the civil code from the com- 
 binations which the safety of Egypt required. 
 Never did man more wholly devote himself to the 
 work in hand, nor better devote his time to what 
 he had to do ; never did mind more inflexibly set 
 aside the occupation or thought which did not 
 come at the right day or hour ; never was one 
 more ardent in seeking it, more alert in its pursuit, 
 more capable of fixing it when the time came 
 to take it up/ " 
 
 The best description, after all, of the working 
 of the mind is his own. <e Various subjects/' he 
 said, " and afTairs are stowed away in my brains, 
 as in a chest of drawers. When I want to take up 
 any special business, I shut one drawer and open 
 another. None of them ever get mixed, and 
 never does this incommode me or fatigue me. 
 If I feel sleepy I shut the drawer and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 XII. 
 THE POWER OF TAKING PAINS. 
 
 THIS genius has not only the power of constant 
 work, but also of taking infinite pains. It will 
 be seen that nothing in which he succeeds is in 
 
Taine's Portrait. 27 
 
 the least degree the result of accident. Here 
 is a description of himself which will bring this 
 out : 
 
 " ' I am always at work. I meditate a great 
 deal. If I seem always equal to the occasion, 
 ready to face what comes, it is because I have 
 thought the matter over a long time before under- 
 taking it. I have anticipated whatever might 
 happen. It is no genius which suddenly reveals 
 to me what I ought to do or say in any unlooked- 
 for circumstance, but my own reflection, my own 
 meditation. ... I work all the time, at dinner, in 
 the theatre. I wake up at night in order to 
 resume my work. I got up last night at two 
 o'clock. I stretched myself on my couch before 
 the fire to examine the army reports sent to me 
 by the Minister of War ; I found twenty mistakes 
 in them, and made notes which I have this 
 morning sent to the Minister, who is now en- 
 gaged with his clerks in rectifying them.' " 
 
 He wears out all his Ministers by this incessant 
 power of work. When Consul, "he sometimes 
 presides at special meetings of the Section of the 
 Interior from ten o'clock in the evening until five 
 o'clock in the morning." Often, at St. Cloud, he 
 keeps the Councillors of State from nine o'clock 
 in the morning until five in the evening, with 
 fifteen minutes' intermission, and seems no more 
 fatigued at the close of the sitting than when it 
 began. 
 
28 Napoleon. 
 
 " During the night sessions 'many of the mem- 
 bers succumb through lassitude, while the Minister 
 of War falls asleep.' He gives them a shake and 
 wakes them up. ' Come, come, citizens, let us 
 bestir ourselves; it is only two o'clock, and we 
 must earn the money the French people pay us.' 
 Consul or Emperor, he demands of each Minister 
 an account of the smallest details. It is not rare 
 to see them leaving the council-room overcome 
 with fatigue, due to the long interrogations to 
 which he has subjected them ; he disdains to take 
 any notice of this, and talks about the day's 
 work simply as a relaxation which has scarcely 
 exercised his mind." 
 
 XIII. 
 HIS MASTERY OF DETAIL. 
 
 ALL this work would be useless if it had not 
 been backed by a mind which had an almost 
 miraculous power both of absorbing and retaining 
 facts and details. 
 
 " In each Ministerial department he knows more 
 than the Ministers, and in each bureau he knows 
 as much as the clerks. ' On his table lie reports 
 of the positions of the forces on land and on 
 water ; he has furnished the plans of these, and 
 fresh ones are issued every month/ Such is the 
 daily reading he likes best. ' I have reports on 
 positions always at hand : my memory for an 
 
Taine's Portrait. 29 
 
 Alexandrine is not good, but I never forget a 
 syllable of my reports on positions. I shall find 
 them in my room this evening, and I shall not go 
 to bed until I have read them/ " 
 
 And the result is that he knows all the positions 
 on land and at sea the number, size, and quality 
 of his ships in or out of port, the composition and 
 strength of his enemies' armies, every detail of every 
 ship and of every regiment, better than the naval 
 commanders or staff officers themselves. Added 
 to this, he has a marvellous power of remembering 
 topographical facts ; he can revive at will an inner 
 picture of every detail at any distance of time. 
 And this extraordinary result follows : 
 
 " His calculation of distance, marches, and 
 manoeuvres is so rigid a mathematical operation 
 that, frequently, at a distance of two or four 
 hundred leagues, his military foresight, calculated 
 two or four months ahead, proves correct, almost 
 on the day named, and precisely on the spot 
 designated." 
 
 An even more remarkable example occurs 
 when M. de Segur sends in his report on the 
 coast line. " I have read your reports," he says 
 to M. de Segur, " and they are exact. Neverthe- 
 less, you forgot two cannon at Ostend," and he 
 pointed out the place, " on a road behind the 
 town." " I went out," naturally exclaims M. de 
 Segur, "overwhelmed with astonishment that 
 among thousands of cannon distributed among 
 
30 Napoleon. 
 
 the mounted batteries or light artillery on the 
 coast, two pieces should not have escaped his 
 observation." 
 
 In March, 1800, he punctures a card with a 
 pin, and tells Bourrienne, his secretary, four 
 months before, the place he intends to beat M<las 
 at San Juliano. " Four months after this I found 
 myself at San Juliano with his portfolio and 
 despatches, and that very evening, at Torre-di- 
 Gafolo, a league off, I wrote the bulletin of the 
 battle under his dictation." Similarly in the cam- 
 paign against Austria : 
 
 " Order of marches, their duration, places of 
 conveyance or meeting of the columns, attacks in 
 full force, the various movements and mistakes of 
 the enemy, all, in this rapid dictation, was fore- 
 seen two months beforehand and at a distance of 
 200 leagues. . . . The battlefields, the victories, 
 and even the very days on which we were to enter 
 Munich and Vienna were then announced, and 
 written down as it all turned out. . . . Daru saw 
 these oracles, fulfilled on the designated days up 
 to our entry into Munich ; if there were any 
 differences of time and not of results between 
 Munich and Vienna, they were all in our favour. 
 ... On returning from the camp at Bologna, 
 Napoleon encounters a squad of soldiers who had 
 got lost, asks what regiment they belong to, calcu- 
 lates the day they left, the road they took, what 
 distance they should have marched, and then tells 
 
Taine's Portrait. 31 
 
 them: 'You will find your battalion at such a 
 halting-place.' At this time the army numbered 
 200,000 men." 
 
 And here is another passage, which also gives 
 an idea of the immense and practical grasp of this 
 intense mind : 
 
 " ' There is nothing relating to warfare that I 
 cannot make myself. If nobody knows how to 
 make gunpowder, I do. I can construct gun- 
 carriages. If cannon must be cast, I will see that 
 it is done properly. If tactical details must be 
 taught, I will teach them/ Hence his com- 
 petency at the outset general in the artillery, 
 major-general, diplomatist, financier, and ad- 
 ministrator, all at once and in every direction. 
 Thanks to his fecund apprenticeship, beginning 
 with the Consulate, he shows Cabinet clerks and 
 veteran Ministers who send in their reports to him 
 what to do. 1 1 am a better administrator than they 
 are : when one has been obliged to rack his brains to 
 find out how to feed, maintain, control, and ani- 
 mate with the same spirit and will two or three 
 hundred thousand men, a long distance from their 
 country, one soon gets at the secrets of adminis- 
 tration.' He takes in at a glance every part of 
 the human machine. He fashions and manipu- 
 lates each in its proper place and function; the 
 generators of power, the organs of its trans- 
 mission, the extra working gear, the composite 
 action, the speed which ensues, their final result, 
 
32 Napoleon. 
 
 the complete effect, the net product ; never is he 
 content with a superficial inspection ; he pene- 
 trates into obscure corners and to the lowest 
 depths, 'through the technical precision of his 
 questions,' with the lucidity of a specialist." 
 
 HIS GRASP OF CHARACTER. 
 
 AN equally astonishing power of his is that of 
 penetrating into the minds of men ; he is, Taine 
 says, " as great a psychologist as he is an accom- 
 plished strategist." " In fact, no one has surpassed 
 him in the art of defining the various states and 
 impulses of one or of many minds, either prolonged 
 or for the time being, which impel or restrain men 
 in general, or this or that individual in particular ; 
 what springs of action may be touched, and the 
 kind and degree of pressure that may be applied 
 to them. The central faculty rules all the others, 
 and in the art of mastering man his genius is found 
 supreme." 
 
 " Accordingly at the Council of State, while 
 the others, either legislators or administrators, ad- 
 duce abstractions, Articles of the Code, and pre- 
 cedents, he looks into natures as they are the 
 Frenchman's, the Italian's, the German's; that of 
 the peasant, the workman, the noble, the returned 
 emigre, the soldier, the officer, and the functionary 
 everywhere at the individual man as he is, the 
 
Taine's Portrait. 
 
 33 
 
 man who ploughs, manufactures, fights, marries, 
 generates, toils, enjoys himself, and dies." 
 
 Taine dwells on the wonderful power, which, 
 too, Napoleon derives from his Italian blood, of 
 describing his thoughts. " His words," says 
 Taine, " caught on the wing, and at the moment," 
 are "vibrating and teeming with illustration and 
 imagery." Here is a sample : " Adultery is no 
 phenomenon ; it is common enough une affaire 
 de canape. . . . There should be some curb on 
 women who commit adultery for trinkets, senti- 
 ment, Apollo and the Muses, etc." 
 
 Here are several others : 
 
 "'You Frenchmen are not in earnest about 
 anything, except, perhaps, equality ; and even 
 this you would gladly give up, if you were sure 
 of yourself being the first. . . . The hope of ad- 
 vancement in this world should be cherished by 
 everybody. . . . Keep your vanity always alive. 
 The severity of the Republican Government would 
 have worried you to death. What started the 
 revolution ? Vanity ! What will end it ? Vanity 
 again. Liberty is merely a pretext. Liberty is 
 the craving of a class small and privileged by 
 nature, with faculties superior to the common run 
 of men ; this class may, therefore, be put under 
 restraint with impunity; equality, on the contrary, 
 catches the multitude.' ' What do I care for the 
 opinions and cackle of the drawing-room ; I never 
 
34 Napoleon. 
 
 heed it. I pay attention only to what rude 
 peasants say.' " 
 
 " His estimates," says Taine, " of certain situa- 
 tions are masterpieces of picturesque conciseness." 
 
 " ' Why did I stop and sign the preliminaries 
 of Leoben? Because I was playing Vingt-et-un 
 and was satisfied with twenty.' His insight into 
 character is that of the most sagacious critic. 
 ' The " Mahomet " of Voltaire is neither a prophet 
 nor an Arab, only an impostor graduated out of 
 the ficole Polytechnique.' ' Madame de Genlis 
 tries to define virtue as if she were the discoverer 
 of it/ (Of Madame de Stael), 'This woman 
 teaches people to think who never took to it or 
 have forgotten how.' (Of Chateaubriand, one of 
 whose relations had just been shot), 'He will 
 write a few pathetic pages and read them aloud 
 in the Faubourg Saint-Germain ; pretty women 
 will shed tears, and that will console him/ (Of 
 the Abbe Delille), ' He is wit in its dotage.' (Of 
 Pasquier and Mole), ' I make the most of one, 
 and made the other.' " 
 
 It is partly this power of grasping the thoughts 
 and intentions of others which helps to make him 
 such a general. Again and again the point must 
 be insisted upon that his victories were not happy 
 accidents, but the final link in a long chain .of 
 reflection, work, knowledge, and preparation. All 
 this is summed up in a picturesque phrase by 
 Napoleon himself: 
 
Taine's Portrait. 35 
 
 " ' When I plan a battle/ said he to Roederer, 
 'no man is more pusillanimous than I am. I 
 magnify to myself all the dangers and all the evils 
 that are possible under the circumstances. I am 
 in a state of agitation that is really painful. But 
 this does not prevent me from appearing quite 
 composed to people around me ; I am like a woman 
 giving birth to a child.' " 
 
 It is also a necessary part of this system that 
 he should be always looking ahead, and this aspect 
 of his character is also set forth with picturesqueness 
 by himself : 
 
 " Passionately, in the throes of creation, he 
 is thus absorbed with his coming greatness; he 
 already anticipates and enjoys living in his 
 imaginary edifice. ' General/ said Madame de 
 Clermont-Tonnerre to him one day, ' you are 
 building behind a scaffolding which you will take 
 down when you have done with it.' ' Yes, madame, 
 that's it/ replied Bonaparte; 'you are right, Fm 
 always living two years in advance.' His response 
 came with ' incredible vivacity/ as if it were the 
 result of a sudden inspiration, that of a soul stirred 
 in its innermost core." 
 
 xv. 
 
 WHAT HIS MEMORY HELD. 
 
 AND then Taine proceeds to give some notion of 
 all that was contained in this single brain, and, 
 powerful as the summing-up is, it will yet be seen 
 
 D 2 
 
36 Napoleon. 
 
 that it necessarily falls short of all that Napoleon 
 had to know and remember. 
 
 " He has mentally within him three principal 
 atlases, always at hand, each composed of ' about 
 twenty note-books,' each distinct, and each regularly 
 posted up. The first one is military, forming a 
 vast collection of topographical charts as minute as 
 those of an etai-major, with detailed plans of every 
 stronghold, also specific indications of the local 
 distribution of all forces on sea and on land crews, 
 regiments, batteries, arsenals, storehouses, present 
 and future resources in supplies of men, horses, 
 vehicles, arms, ammunition, food, and clothing. 
 The second, which is civil, resembles the heavy, 
 thick volumes published every year, in which we now 
 read the state of the Budget, and comprehend, first, 
 the innumerable items of ordinary and extra- 
 ordinary receipt and expenditure, internal taxes, 
 foreign contributions, the products of the domains in 
 France and out of France, the fiscal services, pensions, 
 public works, and the rest ; next, all administrative 
 statistics, the hierarchy of functions and of function- 
 aries, Senators, Deputies, Ministers, Prefects, Bishops, 
 Professors, Judges, and those under their orders, 
 where each of these resides, with his rank, juris- 
 diction, and salary. The third is a vast biographical 
 and moral dictionary, in which, as in the pigeon- 
 holes of the Chef ' de Police, each notable personage 
 and local group, each professional or social body, 
 and even each population, had a label, along with 
 
Taine's Portrait. 37 
 
 a brief note on its situation and antecedents, and 
 therefore its demonstrated character, eventual dis- 
 position, and probable conduct. Each label, or 
 strip of paper, holds a summing-up ; all these 
 partial summaries, methodically classified, terminate 
 in totals, and the totals of the three atlases com- 
 bined together thus furnish their possessor with 
 an estimate of his disposable forces. Now, in 
 1809, however full these atlases, they are clearly 
 imprinted on Napoleon's mind; he knows not 
 only the total and the partial summaries, but also 
 the slightest details ; he reads them readily and at 
 every hour ; he comprehends in a mass, and in all 
 particulars, the various nations he governs directly 
 or through some one else; that is to say, sixty 
 million men, the different countries he has con- 
 quered or overrun, consisting of seventy thousand 
 square miles ; at first France increased by the 
 addition of Belgium and Piedmont; next Spain, 
 from which he is just returned, and where he has 
 placed his brother Joseph ; Southern Italy, where, 
 after Joseph, he has placed Murat ; Central Italy, 
 where he occupies Rome; Northern Italy, where 
 Eugene is his delegate ; Dalmatia and Istria, which 
 he has joined to his empire ; Austria, which he 
 invades for the second time ; the Confederation 
 of the Rhine, which he has made and which he 
 directs ; Westphalia and Holland, where his 
 brothers are only his lieutenants ; Prussia, which 
 he has subdued and mutilated, and which he 
 
38 Napoleon. 
 
 oppresses, and the strongholds of which he still 
 retains. Add to this a last mental tableau, 
 representing the Northern Seas, the Atlantic, 
 and the Mediterranean, all the fleets of the 
 Continent, at sea and in port, from Dantzic to 
 Flessingen and Bayonne, from Cadiz to Toulon 
 and Gaeta, from Tarentum to Venice, Corfu, and 
 Constantinople." 
 
 And, finally, there is this fact to be considered : 
 that all this did not only extend over a small 
 portion of his lifetime. General Grant worked 
 prodigiously, and had an extraordinarily close and 
 intimate knowledge of all the details of his army ; 
 but then the Civil War of America lasted for but 
 four years. But think of the duration of Napoleon's 
 career think how many there were of those days 
 and nights packed full of feverish, incessant, wild 
 work. 
 
 " The quantity of facts he is able to retain and 
 store away, the quantity of ideas he elaborates and 
 produces, seems to surpass human capacity, and 
 this insatiable, inexhaustible, immoveable brain 
 thus keeps on working uninterruptedly for thirty 
 years." 
 
 XVI. 
 HIS IMAGINATIVENESS. 
 
 NOW I take him on another side of his character 
 the side which ultimately led to his ruin that 
 is, his imaginativeness. He has accomplished a 
 
Taine's Portrait. 39 
 
 tremendous amount ; he has undertaken even 
 more ; but " whatever he may have undertaken 
 is far surpassed by what he has imagined." For, 
 great as was his practical power, "his poetical 
 faculty is stronger." This poetical faculty it is 
 which ultimately saved his enemies, for " it is 
 too vigorous for a statesman " ; " its grandeur 
 is exaggerated into enormity, and its enormity 
 degenerates into madness." And then Taine 
 reproduces some of his wild dreamings, to which 
 he gave vent when the moment of expansion 
 was on him, and his brilliant Italian vocabulary 
 was at the service of his excited imagination ; as, 
 for instance he is talking to Bourrienne : 
 
 " ' Europe is a molehill ; never have there been 
 great empires and great revolutions except in 
 the Orient with its 600,000,000 of men.' The 
 following year, at St. Jean d'Acre, on the eve of 
 the last assault, he added : ' If I succeed, I shall 
 iind in the town the pacha's treasure and arms for 
 300,000 men. I stir up, and arm all Syria. . . . 
 I march on to Damascus and Aleppo; as I 
 advance in the country my army will be increased 
 by the discontented. I proclaim to the people 
 the abolition of slavery, and of the tyrannical 
 government of the pachas. I reach Constantinople 
 with armed masses. I overthrow the Turkish 
 empire ; I found in the East a new and grand 
 empire, which fixes my place with posterity, and 
 perhaps I return to Paris by the way of Adrianople, 
 
4-O Napoleon. 
 
 or by Vienna, after having annihilated the House 
 of Austria.' " 
 
 XVIT. 
 DREAMS OF A NEW RELIGION. 
 
 ALL this is before he has become Consul and 
 Emperor; but even after he had reached the 
 pinnacle of power the dream recurs again and 
 again. " Since two hundred years," he said at 
 Mayence, in 1804, "there is nothing more ta 
 do in Europe ; it is only in the East that things 
 can be carried out on a grand scale." And then, 
 giving way to that extraordinary imagination 
 of his, he says : 
 
 " ' I created a religion ; I saw myself on the 
 road to Asia mounted on an elephant, with a 
 turban on my head, and in my hand a new 
 Koran, which I composed to suit myself. 1 " 
 
 This idea of founding a religion, and so 
 exercising the same tyrannous influence on the 
 future generations of men, as that which he 
 exercised over his own generation, is a dream 
 that constantly haunts him. Paris is to be the 
 centre of the world. " I mean that every king 
 shall build a grand palace in Paris for his own 
 use. On the coronation of the Emperor of the 
 French these kings will come and occupy it ; they 
 will grace this imposing ceremony with their 
 presence, and honour it with their salutations." 
 This is grandiose enough, but it is not all; the 
 
Taine's Portrait. 41 
 
 future of the soul still remains ; and as he cannot 
 make a new Eastern Empire and a new Koran, 
 he must get at Europe through the Pope. The 
 Pope must give up Rome and come to live in 
 Paris permanently. And then the Pope will 
 rule the conscience of the world, and Napoleon 
 will rule the Pope. " Paris would become the 
 capital of the Christian world, and I would have 
 governed the religious world as well as the political 
 world." 
 
 I put down all this not merely to the insatiable 
 love of power, but to profound, unfathomable 
 contempt for mankind, which made it delightful 
 to the imagination of Napoleon to think of their 
 grovelling in their folly before him long after he 
 had gone. Here is a further example of this 
 spirit : 
 
 " ' I come too late ; there is no longer anything 
 great to accomplish. I admit that my career is 
 brilliant, and that I have made my way success- 
 fully. But what a difference to the conquerors of 
 antiquity ! Take Alexander ! After having con- 
 quered Asia, and proclaimed himself to the people 
 son of Jupiter, with the exception of Olympias, 
 who knew what all this meant, and Aristotle, and 
 a few Athenian pedants, the entire Orient believed 
 him. Very well ; should I now declare that I 
 was the son of God Almighty, and proclaim that 
 I am going to worship Him under this title, there 
 is not an old beldame that would not hoot at me 
 
4 2 Napoleon. 
 
 as I walked along the streets. People nowadays 
 know too much. Nothing is left to do.' " 
 
 And this imagination and poetic power are to 
 be found in his private as well as his public 
 concerns. For instance, he is superstitious : " He 
 was disposed to accept the marvellous, presenti- 
 ments, and even certain mysterious communica- 
 tions between human beings." 
 
 " I have seen him," writes Madame de Re*musat, 
 " excited by the rustling of the wind, speak en- 
 thusiastically of the roar of the sea, and sometimes 
 inclined to believe in nocturnal apparitions ; in 
 short, leaning to certain superstitions." 
 
 " Meneval notes his crossing himself in- 
 voluntarily on the occasion of some great danger 
 or the discovery of some important fact. 
 ' During the Consulate, in the evening, in a 
 circle of ladies, he sometimes improvised and 
 declaimed tragic tales, Italian fashion, quite 
 worthy of the story-tellers of the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries. ... As to love, his letters 
 to Josephine during the Italian campaign form 
 some of the best examples of Italian passion, 
 and are in most piquant contrast with the tem- 
 perate and graceful elegance of his predecessor, 
 M. de Beauharnais.' " 
 
Taine's Portrait. 43 
 
 XVIII. 
 HIS COURT. 
 
 I TURN now to another and a different side of 
 his character. It is part of his intense love of 
 power that everybody about him must be per- 
 fectly dependent on him. " He considered him- 
 self/' said an Italian diplomatist who had studied 
 him for many years, "an isolated being in the 
 world, made to govern and direct all minds as 
 he pleased/' By-and-by, I shall describe how 
 he carried out this in the case of men ; for the 
 moment, I shall deal with the exercise of this 
 passion in reference to women. 
 
 There had been despots in France before 
 Napoleon; for instance, the sway of Louis XIV. 
 was absolute; but then in him, as in most 
 monarchs, there were two sides. As monarch and 
 man of business, he was one thing; but when 
 he was engaged in social duties, he was head of 
 his house ; " he welcomed visitors, entertained 
 his guests, and that his guests should not be 
 automatons, he tried to put them at their ease." 
 He did not, above all things, "persistently, and 
 from morning to night, maintain a despotic atti- 
 tude ; " quite the reverse : 
 
 " Polite to everybody, always affable with men 
 and sometimes gracious, always courteous with 
 women, and sometimes gallant, carefully avoiding 
 
44 Napoleon. 
 
 brusqueness, ostentation, and sarcasm, never allow- 
 ing himself to use an offensive word, never making 
 people feel their inferiority and dependence, but, 
 on the contrary, encouraging them to express 
 opinions, and even to converse, tolerating in con- 
 versation a semblance of equality, smiling at a 
 repartee, playfully telling a story such were his 
 ways in the drawing-room. . . . Owing to edu- 
 cation and tradition he had consideration for 
 others, at least for the people around him, his 
 courtiers being his guests without ceasing to be 
 his subjects." 
 
 But Napoleon will have none of this. He 
 borrows from the old Court " its rigid discipline, 
 and its pompous parade ; " but that is all. 
 
 " ' The ceremonial system/ says an eye-witness, 
 { was carried out as if it had been regulated by 
 tap of drum. Everything was done, in a certain 
 sense, in double-quick time.' 
 
 "... This air of precipitation, this instant 
 anxiety which it inspires, puts an end to all 
 comfort, all ease, all entertainment, all agreeable 
 intercourse. There is no common bond but that 
 of command and obedience. 
 
 " ' The few individuals he singles out Savary, 
 Duroc, Maret keep silent and transmit orders.' '"' 
 
 And then comes this truly odious picture of 
 Napoleon's Court : 
 
 " l Through calculation as well as from taste 
 he never relaxes his state'; hence 'a mute, 
 
Taine's Portrait. 45 
 
 frigid Court . . . more dismal than dignified ; 
 every countenance wearing an expression of uneasi- 
 ness ... a silence both dull and constrained.' At 
 Fontainebleau, ' amidst splendours and pleasures/ 
 there is no real enjoyment or satisfaction, not even 
 to himself. ' I pity you/ said M. de Talleyrand 
 to M. de Re"musat; 'you have to amuse the 
 unamuseable.' At the theatre he is abstracted 
 or yawns. Applause is interdicted ; the Court, 
 sitting out ' the file of eternal tragedies, is mortally 
 bored . . . the young ladies fall asleep, people 
 leave the theatre gloomy and discontented/ There 
 is the same constraint in the drawing-room. * He 
 did not know how to appear at ease, and I believe 
 he never wanted anybody else to be so. He was 
 afraid of the slightest approach to familiarity, 
 and inspired every one with the fear of saying 
 something offensive of his neighbour before 
 witnesses. . . . During the quadrille he moves 
 around amongst the row of ladies, addressing 
 them with trifling or disagreeable remarks,' and 
 never does he accost them otherwise than 
 ' awkwardly and as if ill at ease.' At bottom 
 he distrusts, and is ill-disposed towards them. 
 It is because 'the power they have acquired in 
 society seems to him an intolerable usurpation.' " 
 
 And if any picture could be more odious than 
 this, here is another more odious still : 
 
 " Never did he utter to a woman a graceful or 
 even a well-turned compliment, although the effort 
 
46 Napoleon. 
 
 to do so was often apparent in his face and in 
 the tone of his voice. . . . He talks to them only 
 of their toilet, of which he declares himself a severe 
 and minute judge, and on which he indulges in not 
 very delicate jests ; or, again, on the number of 
 their children, enquiring of them, in rude language, 
 whether they nurse them themselves ; or, again, 
 lecturing them on their social relations. Hence there 
 is not one who does not rejoice when he moves 
 away. He often amuses himself by putting them 
 out of countenance, scandalising and bantering them 
 to their faces, driving them into a corner, just as 
 a colonel worries his canteen woman. ' Yes, ladies, 
 you furnish the good people of the Faubourg 
 Saint-Germain with something to talk about. It 
 is said, Madame A., that you are intimate with 
 Monsieur B., and you, Madame C., with Monsieur 
 D.' On any intrigue chancing to appear in the 
 police reports, ' he loses no time in informing the 
 husband of what is going on.' He is no less 
 indiscreet in relation to his own freaks ; when the 
 affair is over he divulges the fact and gives the 
 name ; furthermore, he informs Josephine of its 
 details, and will not listen to any reproach. ' I 
 have a right to answer all your objections with an 
 eternal " Moi ! " ; he says/' 
 
Taine's Portrait. 47 
 
 XIX. 
 HIS RUDENESS. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S awkwardness with women was the 
 theme of everybody who knew him intimately, and 
 observed him closely. One of these says : 
 
 " It would be difficult to imagine any one 
 more awkward than Napoleon in a drawing- 
 room. ... 'I never heard a harsher voice, or one 
 so inflexible. When he smiled it was only with 
 the mouth and a portion of the cheeks; the brow 
 and eyes remained immovably sombre. . . . This 
 combination of gaiety and seriousness, had some- 
 thing in it terrible and frightful.' On one occa- 
 sion, at St. Cloud, Varnhagen heard him exclaim 
 over and over again twenty times before a group 
 of ladies, ' How hot ! ' " 
 
 This awkwardness of men of action when 
 with women is not at all uncommon. There are 
 examples even in our own day. " Small talk " 
 is really a difficulty with men whose whole 
 being is intent on great enterprises and on the 
 ruling of men. Napoleon, living always two 
 years ahead of himself with all these images and 
 recollections of terrible battle-fields, great com- 
 binations, world-wide empire found it impossible 
 to attune his mind to the trifles of the hour. 
 
 His restless, vivid, and realistic mind seems, 
 indeed, always under an unpleasant restraint in 
 
48 Napoleon. 
 
 civilian surroundings. A good deal of this is 
 doubtless due to the fact that all his training 
 had been in the guard-room and at mess, and 
 many of his acts and expressions have the fine, 
 full-flavoured tone of the soldier. Hence his 
 dislike to all the conventions of society. Says 
 Taine: 
 
 " It is because good taste is the highest attain- 
 ment of civilisation, the innermost vestment which 
 drapes human nudity, which best fits the person, 
 the last garment retained after the others have 
 been cast off, and whose delicate tissue continues 
 to hamper Napoleon : he throws it off instinctively, 
 because it interferes with his natural utterance, 
 with the uncurbed, dominating, savage ways of the 
 conqueror who knocks down his adversary and 
 treats him as he pleases." 
 
 Napoleon himself was not slow to avow with 
 characteristic frankness his feelings on the subject. 
 
 "'I stand apart from other men. I accept 
 nobody's conditions, nor any species of obligation, 
 no code whatever, not even the common code of 
 outward civility, which, diminishing or dissimu- 
 lating brutality, allows men to associate together 
 without clashing.' He does not comprehend it, 
 and he repudiates it. ' I have little liking/ he says, 
 * for that vague, levelling word politeness, which 
 you people fling out whenever you have a chance. 
 It is an invention of fools who want to surpass 
 clever men ; a kind of social muzzle which annoys 
 
Taine's Portrait. 49 
 
 the strong and is useful only to the mediocre. . . 
 Ah, good taste ! Another classic expression which 
 I do not accept.' 'It is your personal enemy/ 
 says Talleyrand to him one day; 'if you could 
 have shot it away with bullets, it would have 
 disappeared long ago.' " 
 
 xx. 
 
 HIS AGGRESSIVENESS. 
 
 His hatred for all the conventions of society 
 comes out in his intercourse with other nations 
 and other monarchs. His diplomacy was as 
 different from that of all other times and men 
 as anything else. His everlasting desire to com- 
 mand is unchecked for a moment by good feeling, 
 good taste, any of the finer sensibilities which 
 influence the ordinary man. 
 
 " His attitude, even at pacific interviews, 
 remains aggressive, and militant; purposely or 
 involuntarily he raises his hand, and the blow is 
 felt to be coming, while, in the meantime, he 
 insults. In his correspondence with Sovereigns, 
 or in his official proclamations, in his deliberations 
 with Ambassadors, and even at public audiences, 
 he provokes, threatens, and defies ; he treats his 
 adversary with a lofty air, insults him often to his 
 face, and loads him with the most disgraceful 
 imputations; he divulges the secrets of his life in 
 private, of his study, and of his bed ; he defames 
 
5O Napoleon. 
 
 or calumniates his Minister, his Court, and his 
 wife; he purposely stabs people in the most 
 sensitive part ; he tells one that he is a dupe, 
 a betrayed husband ; another that he is an 
 abettor of assassination; he assumes the air 
 of a judge condemning a criminal, or the tone 
 of a superior reprimanding an inferior, or, 
 at best, that of a teacher taking a scholar to 
 task." 
 
 Instance after instance can be given of this, as 
 for instance : 
 
 "After the battle of Jena, Qth, i;th, i8th, 
 and iQth, there is, in the bulletins, comparison of 
 the Queen of Prussia with Lady Hamilton, open 
 and repeated insinuations, imputing to her an in- 
 trigue with the Emperor Alexander. ' Everybody 
 admits that the Queen of Prussia is the author of 
 the evils that the Prussian nation suffers. This is 
 heard everywhere. How changed she is since that 
 fatal interview with the Emperor Alexander. . . . 
 The portrait of the Emperor Alexander, presented 
 to her by the Prince, was found in the apartment 
 of the Queen at Potsdam.' " 
 
 XXI. 
 HIS TREATMENT OF HIS MINISTERS. 
 
 IN Taine's picture, Napoleon is so overbearing 
 towards his Ministers, that it seems incredible that 
 he could have got any man to serve him except 
 
Taine's Portrait. 51 
 
 that the love of power and office, as well as 
 of money, will always give to rulers plenty of 
 tools to assume and even to love the badge of 
 servitude. 
 
 In his dealings with his Ministers, Napoleon 
 proceeds on a plan a plan which was impossible 
 to any one except a man of hard and un- 
 generous nature. " His leading general principle," 
 says Taine, " which he applies in every way, in 
 great things as in small ones, is that a man's zeal 
 depends on his anxiety." 
 
 " For a machine to work well, it is important 
 that the machinist should overhaul it frequently, 
 which this one never fails to do, especially after 
 a long absence. Whilst he is on his way from 
 Tilsit 'everybody anxiously examines his con- 
 science to ascertain what he has done that this 
 rigid master will find fault with on his return. 
 Whether spouse, family, or grand dignitary, 
 each is more or less disturbed; while the 
 Empress, who knows him better than any 
 one, naively says, "As the Emperor has had 
 such success, he will certainly do a good deal of 
 scolding!"' ... In fact, he has scarcely arrived 
 when he gives a rude and vigorous turn of the 
 screw, and then, 'satisfied at having excited 
 terror all round, he appears to have forgotten 
 what has passed, and resumes the usual tenor of 
 his life." 1 
 
 The experience of M. de R<musat, Prefect of 
 
 E 2 
 
52 Napoleon. 
 
 the Palace, and one of his most devoted servants, 
 is the same. 
 
 " When the Prefect has arranged ' one of those 
 magnificent fetes in which all the arts minister 
 to his enjoyment/ economically, correctly, with 
 splendour and success, Madame never asks her 
 husband if the Emperor is satisfied, but whether 
 he has scolded more or less." 
 
 XXII. 
 THE DEPENDENCE OF THE MARSHALS. 
 
 As Napoleon trusts to no principle in his 
 Ministers but fear and self-interest, he takes 
 elaborate precautions against their ever becoming 
 independent of him. In this respect he shows a 
 delight in the degradation of human nature 
 that sometimes almost appals one it is as 
 though the hideous sneer of Mephistopheles 
 were transferred from the pages of the poet to 
 the more moving drama of human life. Take, 
 for instance, Napoleon's treatment of his Mar- 
 shals. He claimed to "be sole master, making 
 or marring reputations " according to his personal 
 requirements. 
 
 "Too brilliant a soldier would become too 
 important ; a subordinate would never be tempted 
 to be less submissive. To this end he plans 
 what he will omit in his bulletins, what alterations 
 and what changes shall be made in them. It 
 
Taine's Portrait. 53 
 
 is convenient to keep silent about certain victories, 
 or to convert the defeat of this or that Marshal 
 into a success. Sometimes a General learns from 
 a bulletin of an action that he was never in, and 
 of a speech that he never made." 
 
 When the General complains, he is given the 
 right to get rich by pillage, or has a title bestowed 
 upon him. But even yet he does not feel the 
 grasp of the iron hand of Napoleon removed. 
 
 " On becoming Duke or Hereditary Prince, 
 with half a million or a million of revenue from his 
 estate, he is not less held in subjection, for the 
 creator has taken precautions against his own 
 creatures. ' Some people there,' said he, ' I have 
 made independent, but I know when to lay my 
 hand upon them and keep them from being 
 ungrateful/ In truth, if he has endowed them 
 magnificently, it is with domains assigned to them 
 in conquered countries, which ensures their fortune 
 being his fortune. Besides, in order that they 
 may not enjoy any pecuniary stability, he ex- 
 pressly encourages them and all his grand 
 dignitaries to make extravagant outlays ; thus, 
 through their financial embarrassments, he holds 
 them in a leash. ' We have seen most of his 
 Marshals, constantly pressed by their creditors, 
 come to him for assistance which he gives as he 
 pleases, or when he finds it for his interest to 
 attach some one to himself.' " 
 
 There is an even deeper depth than this : 
 
54 Napoleon. 
 
 " ' He carefully cultivates all the bad passions 
 ... he is glad to find the bad side in a man, so 
 as to get htm in his power/ The thirst for money 
 in Savary, the Jacobin defects in Fouche, the 
 vanity and sensuality of Cambaceres, the careless 
 cynicism and 'the easy immorality' of Talleyrand, 
 the 'dry bluntness of Duroc/ the 'courtier-like 
 insipidity of Maret/ 'the silliness 7 of Berthier; 
 he brings this out, diverts himself with it, and 
 profits by it. 'Where he sees no vice he en- 
 courages weaknesses, and in default of anything 
 better, he provokes fear, so that he may be ever 
 and continually the strongest. . . . He dreads ties 
 of affection, and strives to alienate people from 
 each other. . . . He sells his favours by 
 arousing anxiety, and he thinks the best way 
 to attach individuals to him is to compromise 
 them, and often, even, to ruin them in public 
 opinion.' ' If Caulaincourt is compromised/ said 
 he, after the murder of the Due d'Enghien, ' it is 
 no great matter ; he will serve me all the better.'" 
 
 XXIII. 
 HIS HATRED OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 IT is a necessary part of this horrible system that 
 all Napoleon's Ministers must surrender all their 
 independence of judgment ; their one law must be 
 his will and his interest. 
 
 " If his scruples arrest him, if he alleges 
 
Taine's Portrait. 55 
 
 personal obligations, if he had rather not fail 
 in delicacy, or even in common loyalty, he incurs 
 the risk of offending or losing the favour of the 
 master, which is the case with M. de Re"musat, 
 who is willing to become his spy, reporter, and 
 denunciator for the Faubourg Saint- Germain, but 
 does not offer at Vienna to drag from Madame 
 d'Andre the address of her husband, so that 
 M. d'Andre may be taken and immediately shot. 
 Savary, who was the negotiator for his being 
 given up, kept constantly telling M. de Re*musat, 
 'You are going against your interest; I may say 
 that I do not comprehend you ! ' ' 
 
 This Savary was one of the most contemptible 
 and villainous of Napoleon's agents. Napoleon 
 himself said of him : " He is a man who must be 
 constantly corrupted." 
 
 " And yet Savary, himself Minister of the Police, 
 executor of most important arrests, head manager 
 of the murder of the Due d'Enghien, and of the 
 ambuscade at Bayonne, counterfeiter of Austrian 
 banknotes for the campaign of 1809, and of Russian 
 banknotes for that of 1812, Savary ends in getting 
 weary ; he is charged with too many dirty jobs ; 
 however hardened his conscience, it has a tender 
 spot ; he discovers at last that he has scruples. 
 It is with great repugnance that, in February 1814, 
 he executes the order to have a small infernal 
 machine prepared, moving by clockwork, so as 
 to blow up the Bourbons on their return to France. 
 
56 Napoleon. 
 
 f Ah, J he said, giving himself a blow on the 
 forehead, ' it must be admitted that the Emperor 
 is sometimes hard to serve.' " 
 
 And the final result is that Napoleon drives 
 from his Court and his Cabinet every man of sense 
 and honour. " Independence of any kind, even 
 eventual and merely possible, puts him out of 
 humour ; intellectual or moral superiority is of 
 this order, and he gradually gets rid of it." 
 
 " Towards the last he no longer tolerates along- 
 side of him any but subject or captive spirits ; 
 his principal servants are machines or fanatics 
 a devout worshipper like Maret, a gendarme like 
 Savary, ready to do his bidding. From the out- 
 set he has reduced his Ministers to the condition 
 of clerks, for he is administrator as well as ruler, 
 and in each department he watches details as 
 closely as the entire mass ; accordingly he requires 
 simply for head men active scribes, mute exe- 
 cutioners, docile and special hands, no honest 
 and free advisers. ' I should not know what to 
 do with them/ he said, 'if they were not to a 
 certain extent mediocre in mind and character.' " 
 
 And the result is the deadening in him of 
 all real human feeling. 
 
 " Therefore, outside of explosions of nervous 
 sensibility, ' he has no consideration for men 
 other than that of a foreman for his workmen/ 
 or, more precisely, for his tools ; once the tool 
 is worn out, little does he care whether it rusts 
 
Taine's Portrait. 57 
 
 away in a corner or is cast aside on a heap of 
 scrap iron. Portalis, Minister of Justice, enters 
 his room one day with a downcast look, and 
 his eyes filled with tears. ' What is the matter 
 with you, Portalis ? ' inquired Napoleon. ' Are 
 you ill?' 'No, sire, but very wretched. The 
 
 poor Archbishop of Tours, my old schoolmate ' 
 
 4 Eh, well, what has happened to him ? ' ' Alas, 
 sire, he has just died.' 'What do I care? He 
 was no longer good for anything.' " 
 
 XXIV. 
 HIS ESTIMATE OF HUMANITY. 
 
 SURROUNDED by such creatures, it is not un- 
 natural that the original and instinctive cynicism 
 of Napoleon's nature should be aggravated. In 
 the end, all faith in anything but the base and 
 the selfish in human nature disappeared. His 
 scepticism was not affected as it often is it was 
 genuine conviction. Nay more, it was almost a 
 fanatical faith a faith that was one of the chief 
 causes which led to his final destruction. Every- 
 body who knew him agrees in describing this 
 disbelief in anything but the base in man as a 
 fixed idea. 
 
 "' His opinions on men,' writes M. de Metter- 
 nich, ' centred on one idea, which, unfortunately, 
 with him had acquired in his mind the force of an 
 axiom ; he was persuaded that no man who was 
 
5$ Napoleon. 
 
 induced to appear on the public stage, or who was 
 merely engaged in the active pursuits of life, 
 governed himself or was governed otherwise than 
 by his interests.' According to him, man is held 
 through his egoistic passions, fear, cupidity, sen- 
 suality, self-esteem, and emulation ; these are the 
 mainsprings when he is not under excitement, 
 when he reasons. Moreover, it is not difficult to 
 turn the brain of man ; for he is imaginative, 
 credulous, and subject to being carried away; 
 stimulate his pride or his vanity, provide him with 
 an extreme and false opinion of himself and his 
 fellow-men, and you can start him off, head down- 
 wards, wherever you please." 
 
 This theory of Napoleon sometimes finds diffi- 
 culties in its way. There, for instance, are 
 Lafayette and others, who have given proof of 
 disinterestedness, loyalty, and zeal for the public 
 good. But Napoleon is neither dismayed nor 
 converted ; whenever he meets such a man he tells 
 him to his face that he regards him either as a 
 conscious or a self-deceived impostor. 
 
 " ' General Dumas,' says he abruptly to Mathieu 
 Dumas, 'you were one of the imbeciles who 
 believed in liberty?' 'Yes, sire, I was, and am 
 still one of that class.' * And you, like the rest, 
 took part in the Revolution through ambition ? * 
 ' No, sire ; I should have calculated badly, for I 
 am now precisely where I stood in 1790.' 'You 
 are not sufficiently aware of the motives which 
 
Taine's Portrait. 59 
 
 prompted you ; you cannot be different from other 
 people ; it is all personal interest. Now, take 
 Massena. He has glory and honours enough ; but 
 he is not content. He wants to be a prince like 
 Murat or Bernadotte. He would risk being shot 
 to-morrow to be a prince. That is the incentive of 
 Frenchmen.' * I never heard him/ said Madame 
 de Remusat, * express any admiration or compre- 
 hension of a noble action.' ' His means,' says the 
 same writer, ' for governing men were all derived 
 from those which tend to debase them. . . . He 
 tolerated virtue only when he could cover it with 
 ridicule.' " 
 
 His disbelief in anything but the base was, as 
 I have said, one of the causes of his downfall, for 
 it led to some of his grossest miscalculations ; or, 
 as Taine well puts it : 
 
 " Such is the final conception on which 
 Napoleon has anchored himself, and into which 
 he sinks deeper and deeper, no matter how 
 directly and violently he may be contradicted by 
 palpable facts ; nothing will dislodge him, neither 
 the stubborn energy of the English, nor the in- 
 flexible gentleness of the Pope, nor the declared 
 insurrection of the Spaniards, nor the mute in- 
 surrection of the Germans, nor the resistance of 
 Catholic consciences, nor the gradual disaffection 
 of the French. The reason is, that his concep- 
 tion is imposed upon him by his character; he 
 sees man as he needs to see him." 
 
60 Napoleon. 
 
 HIS JUDGMENTS ON HIMSELF. 
 
 His miscalculation arises from another cause 
 the excessive imagination, which so often led 
 astray that cold, calculating, splendid mind. " The 
 Emperor," said M. de Pradt, that keen observer 
 of him, whom I have often quoted already, "is 
 all system, all illusion, as one cannot fail to be 
 when one is all imagination. Whoever has watched 
 his course has noticed his creating for himself an 
 imaginary Spain, an imaginary Catholicism, an 
 imaginary England, an imaginary financial state, 
 an imaginary noblesse, and still more, an imaginary 
 France." 
 
 A curious thing about him is that occasionally 
 he has glimpses of his own faults and of the 
 verdict which will be passed upon him. Take, for 
 instance, his judgment upon his treatment of his 
 subordinates : 
 
 " He was heard to say, ' The lucky man is he 
 who hides away from me in the depths of some 
 province/ And another day, having asked M. de 
 Segur what people would say of him after his 
 death, the latter enlarged on the regrets which 
 would be universally expressed. ' Not at all,' 
 replied the Emperor ; and then drawing in his 
 breath in a significant manner indicative of 
 universal relief, he replied : ' They'll say, Ouf ! ' " 
 
Taine's Portrait. 61 
 
 And here is another self-condemnation : 
 
 " On reaching the Isle of Poplars, the First 
 Consul stopped at Rousseau's grave and said : ' It 
 would have been better for the repose of France 
 if that man had never existed ! ' * And why, 
 citizen Consul ? ' ' He is the man who made the 
 French Revolution.' ' It seems to me that you 
 need not complain of the French Revolution.' 
 ' Well, the future must decide whether it would 
 not have been better for the repose of the 
 whole world if neither myself nor Rousseau had 
 ever lived/ He then resumed his promenade in 
 a reverie." 
 
 And from the outset of his career, he boldly 
 proclaims his selfish purposes. 
 
 " ' Do you suppose,' says he to them, after the 
 preliminaries of Leoben, 'that it is to aggrandise 
 Directory lawyers, such as the Carnots, and the 
 Barras, that I triumph in Italy ? Do you suppose, 
 also, that it is for the establishment of a republic ? 
 What an idea ! A republic of thirty million men ! 
 With our customs, our vices, how is that possible ? 
 It is a delusion with which the French are in- 
 fatuated, and which will vanish along with so many 
 others. What they want is glory, the gratification 
 of vanity they know nothing about liberty. 
 Look at the army ! Our successes just obtained, 
 our triumphs have already brought out the true 
 character of the French soldier. I am all for him. 
 Let the Directory deprive me of the cockade and 
 
62 Napoleon. 
 
 it will see who is master. The nation needs a 
 chief, one who is famous through his exploits, 
 and not theories of Government, phrases, and 
 speeches by ideologists, which Frenchmen do not 
 comprehend/ " 
 
 And when he is recommended to make peace 
 and end the war in Italy, he says : 
 
 " * It is not for my interest to make peace. 
 You see what I am, what I can do in Italy. 
 If peace is brought about, if I am no longer at 
 the head of the army which has become attached 
 to me, I must give up this power, this high 
 position I have reached, and go and pay court to 
 lawyers in the Luxembourg. I should not like to 
 quit Italy for France except to play a part 
 there similar to that which I play here, and the 
 time for that has not yet come the pear is not 
 ripe/ " 
 
 XXVI. 
 THE CAUSES OF HIS FALL. 
 
 FINALLY, his desire to rule the whole world brings 
 Napoleon to his fall. He has been such a scourge 
 to humanity that humanity rises up in revolt 
 against him. He has taken Spanish, Italian, 
 Austrian, Prussian, Swiss, Bavarian, Saxon, Dutch, 
 as well as French lives ; the nations hate him as 
 much as their monarchs. 
 
 " Unquestionably with such a character nobody 
 can live ; his genius is too vast, too mischievous, and 
 
Taine's Portrait. 63 
 
 all the more so because it is so vast. War will last 
 as long as he reigns ; it is in vain to reduce him, 
 to confine him at home, to drive him back within 
 the ancient frontier of France ; no barrier will 
 restrain him, no treaty will bind him ; peace with 
 him will never be other than a truce, he will use it 
 simply to recover himself, and, as soon as he has 
 done this, he will begin again ; he is in his very 
 essence anti-social. The mind of Europe in this 
 respect is made up definitely and unshakeably. 
 One petty detail alone shows how unanimous and 
 profound this conviction is. On March 7th, the 
 news reached Vienna that he has escaped from the 
 Island of Elba without its being yet known where 
 he would land. M. de Metternich, before eight 
 o'clock in the morning, brings the news to the 
 Emperor of Austria, who says to him, ' Lose no 
 time in finding the King of Prussia and the 
 Emperor of Russia, and tell them that I am ready 
 to order my army to march at once on France/ 
 At a quarter-past eight M. de Metternich is with 
 the Czar, and at half-past eight with the King 
 of Prussia; both of them reply instantly in the 
 same manner. 'At nine o'clock/ says M. de 
 Metternich, ' I was back. At ten o'clock aides 
 flew in every direction countermanding army 
 orders. . . . Thus was war declared in less than 
 an hour/ " 
 
64 Napoleon. 
 
 XXVII. 
 THE INSTABILITY OF HIS RULE. 
 
 AND not only is Europe united against him, but 
 his own country at last ceases to have any faith 
 in him. Those who are immediately around him 
 are soonest convinced that his day must come to 
 an end, and that with such a despotism as his, 
 abyssmal ruin is the foredoomed and inevitable 
 result. It shows a strange lack somewhere in 
 Napoleon's character and mind that he was always 
 blind to consequences, which the commonest and 
 the dullest man around him could see. I suppose 
 that this is one of the penalties which men of 
 inflexible and resistless wills have to pay for their 
 great powers the same fearlessness, the same 
 tenacity, the same determination to succeed which 
 make them, are also the very qualities which 
 finally mar them. We have seen in Irish political 
 history a remarkable and tragic example, in our 
 own time, of how the same great qualities, which 
 commanded success against gigantic odds, brought 
 failure when the power to calculate the odds had 
 been submerged by the inflexible will, imperious 
 temper, and deadly and unyielding tenacity of 
 purpose. 
 
 All those near Napoleon or at the centre 
 of affairs, like Metternich, saw, as I have just 
 said, that the fabric raised by him had not a 
 single element of durability. 
 
Taine's Portrait. 65 
 
 " M. de Metternich," says Taine, " by way of 
 a political summing up, expresses the following 
 general opinion : ' It is remarkable that Napoleon, 
 who is constantly disturbing and modifying the 
 relations of all Europe, has not yet taken a 
 single step towards ensuring the maintenance of 
 his successors.' " 
 
 As time went on this opinion of Metternich is 
 confirmed, and gradually it spreads to Napoleon's 
 entourage. 
 
 The diplomat adds, in 1809: " His death 
 will be the signal for a new and frightful 
 upheaval ; so many divided elements all tend to 
 combine. Deposed sovereigns will be recalled 
 by whilom subjects ; new princes will have new 
 crowns to defend. A veritable civil war will 
 rage for half a century over the vast Empire 
 of the Continent of Europe." 
 
 In 1811, "Everybody is convinced that on 
 the disappearance of Napoleon, the master in 
 whose hands all power is concentrated, the first 
 inevitable consequence will be a revolution/' 
 At home in France, at this same date, his 
 own subjects begin to comprehend that his 
 dominion is merely temporary, that the Empire 
 is ephemeral and will not last during his life; 
 for he is constantly raising his edifice higher 
 and higher, while all that his building gains 
 in elevation it loses in stability. 'The Em- 
 peror is crazy,' said Decres to Marmont, 'com- 
 
 F 
 
66 Napoleon. 
 
 pletely crazy. He will ruin us all, numerous 
 as we are, and all will end in some frightful 
 catastrophe.' " 
 
 And the curious fact is that even Napoleon 
 himself takes, "in lucid moments/ 7 as Taine 
 put it, " the same view." 
 
 "'It will last as long as I do. After me, 
 however, my son may deem himself fortunate if 
 he has 4O,ooof. a year.' How often at this time 
 (1811) was he heard to foretell that the weight 
 of his Empire would crush his heir. ' Poor child/ 
 said he, looking at the King of Rome, ' what an 
 entanglement I shall leave you.' " 
 
 XXVIII. 
 HIS OBSTINATE EGOTISM. 
 
 BUT it was only in lucid moments that Napoleon 
 was able to see this clearly ; as a rule he was 
 the slave of his imagination ; and no disaster, 
 no combination of Kings, no superiority of 
 forces, could abate his self-confidence or curtail 
 his schemes. Almost to the last he persisted 
 in believing that everything would end as he 
 desired. 
 
 And, in the meantime, how is it with France ? 
 At last, even the inexhaustible courage and patience 
 of the people are coming to an end. But Napoleon 
 persists. The more the people groan, the more 
 
Taine's Portrait. 67 
 
 of them are killed, the heavier becomes his hand, 
 the greater the exactions, the more unsparing the 
 conscription. Between January and October in 
 the year 1813,800,000 men had been raised. Other 
 levies followed, and altogether 1,300,000 men were 
 summoned in one year. " Never," says a writer 
 of the time, "has any nation been thus asked 
 to let itself be voluntarily led to the slaughter- 
 house." Young men were torn from their wives 
 the day after marriage, from the bedside of a wife 
 in her confinement, from a dying father or sick 
 child. " Some looked so feeble that they seemed 
 dying;" and one-half of them died in the cam- 
 paign of 1814. Self-mutilation became common; 
 desertion still commoner. It had taken a long 
 time; but Napoleon had at length exhausted 
 France. 
 
 But Napoleon held out still; uncowed, un- 
 moved by these awful catastrophes. 
 
 " ' What do they want of me ? ' said he to M. de 
 Metternich. 'Do they want me to dishonour 
 myself? Never ! I can die, but never will yield 
 an inch of territory ! Your sovereigns born on the 
 throne may be beaten twenty times over and yet 
 return to their capitals. I cannot do this, because 
 I am a parvenu soldier. My dominion will not 
 survive the day when I shall have ceased to be 
 strong and, consequently, feared/ In fact, his 
 despotism in France is founded on his European 
 omnipotence; if he does not remain master of 
 
 F 2 
 
68 Napoleon. 
 
 the continent, 'he must settle with the corps 
 tigislatif? . . . 
 
 " * I have seen your soldiers/ says Metternich 
 to him, 'they are children. When this army of 
 boys is gone, what will you do then ? ' At these 
 words, which touch his heart, he grows pale, his 
 features contract, and his rage overcomes him. 
 Like a wounded man who has made a false step 
 and exposes himself, he says violently to Metter- 
 nich : ' You are not a soldier ! You do not know 
 the impulses of a soldier's breast ! I have grown 
 up on a battle-field, and a man like me does not 
 care a for the lives of a million men.' " 
 
 Nor did he, for here is the final record of his 
 rule of France : 
 
 " Between 1804 and 1815 he has had slaughtered 
 1,700,000 Frenchmen, born within the boundaries 
 of ancient France, to which must be added, 
 probably, 2,000,000 of men born outside these 
 limits, and slain for him under the title of allies, 
 or slain by him under the title of enemies. All 
 that the poor enthusiastic and credulous Gauls 
 have gained by entrusting their public welfare to 
 him is two invasions ; all that he bequeaths to 
 them as a reward for their devotion, after this 
 prodigious waste of their blood and the blood of 
 others, is a France shorn of fifteen departments 
 acquired by the Republic, deprived of Saxony, of 
 the left bank of the Rhine, and of Belgium, 
 despoiled of the north-east angle by which it 
 
Taine's Portrait. 69 
 
 completed its boundaries, fortified its most 
 vulnerable point, and, to use the words of 
 Vauban, 'made its field square,' separated from 
 4,000,000 of new Frenchmen which it had 
 assimilated after twenty years of life in common, 
 and, worse still, thrown back within the frontiers 
 of 1789, alone, diminished in the midst of its 
 aggrandized neighbours, suspected by all Europe, 
 and lastingly surrounded by a threatening circle 
 of distrust and rancour." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 THE ESTIMATE OF A WORSHIPPER.* 
 
 I HAVE not paused in my quotations from Taine 
 to point out where I think the author has been 
 unjust to Napoleon. As I have indicated, that 
 would be contrary to the rble I have given myself 
 of interpreter rather than critic. Besides, I am 
 about to give a picture of Napoleon drawn by 
 a -worshipper in immediate succession to this 
 tremendous indictment by an enemy ; and the 
 unbridled eulogy will be the best antidote to the 
 unsparing attack. 
 
 MENEVAL. 
 
 ANYBODY acquainted with Napoleonic literature 
 will know that Madame de Re"musat's Memoirs 
 form the groundwork of Taine's picture ; and 
 especially in those portions which describe life 
 at Napoleon's Court. 
 
 * Memoirs to serve for the history of Napoleon I. from 
 1802-1815. By B. de Meneval. Translated by N. H. Sherard. 
 (London : Hutchinson.) 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 71 
 
 I heard a clever Frenchman once, when dis- 
 cussing the famous Memoirs of Madame de 
 Remusat, quote what I thought an excellent 
 comment upon them. The Memoirs, said the 
 commentator, were clever, but they were the 
 Memoirs which might have been written by a 
 femme de chambre, " and I do not love domestics," 
 added this critic, " who speak badly of their 
 masters." M. de Meneval was a servant of 
 Napoleon, but he does not speak badly of his 
 master. I cannot read these Memoirs indis- 
 criminate in their praise, partial, uncritical, not 
 very luminous I cannot read them without feeling 
 that Meneval was a downright good fellow. To 
 Meneval Napoleon is always the hero ; always 
 right, always high-minded, always unselfish, always 
 wronged. I need scarcely say that this is not the 
 view of Napoleon's character which even the most 
 benevolent student of his career can adopt; but 
 do you suppose I am going to find fault with our 
 good Meneval for this ? There are some people 
 who forgive anything to intellect ; my tendency 
 is to forgive anything to heart. I have always 
 regarded a good disposition as much more 
 .attractive than a good brain. And, then, I like 
 people who have the talent of admiration. Carlyle 
 exploded the doctrine that nobody is a hero to 
 his own valet, with the pertinent remark that 
 perchance that was the fault of the valet. For 
 my part, I always look with a certain suspicion on 
 
7 2 Napoleon. 
 
 a man who has not the power of admiration. It 
 marks, I think, not a superiority, but an inferiority 
 of temperament. 
 
 ii. 
 
 A HERO WORSHIPPER. 
 
 OUR friend Meneval, as I have said, had the bump 
 of admiration in a remarkable degree. He would 
 perhaps have been a better writer of Memoirs if 
 he had been a less fervent worshipper ; but let us 
 forgive the good fellow for his defects in style 
 because of the pleasant impression he leaves of 
 himself. He was introduced to Napoleon by 
 Joseph Bonaparte. He was not very eager to 
 enter into the service of the great captain. " I did 
 not," he says, " feel myself at all capable of filling 
 the post for which he intended me, and confessed 
 that I feared the loss of my independence." But 
 it was of no avail : 
 
 " On the morning of the second of April Joseph 
 Bonaparte gave me a letter from General Duroc, 
 who wrote to tell me that the First Consul could 
 receive me at five o'clock in the afternoon of that 
 day. I was obliged to accept an invitation which 
 was really a command. General Duroc conducted 
 me to Madame Bonaparte, who received me with 
 exquisite grace and politeness. She was kind 
 enough to talk to me of the business which had 
 brought me to the Tuileries. I was encouraged 
 by her kindness to tell her the objections I felt 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 73 
 
 to a gilded chain. She succeeded in making me 
 agree to remain three years only with the First 
 Consul. I should be free to retire at the end of 
 that time, and she assured me that the First 
 Consul would reward me with an honourable post, 
 and further undertook to gain his consent to this 
 arrangement. I mention this circumstance to 
 show with what cleverness she could enter into 
 the feelings of others, and appear to share their 
 illusions. On reflection I had no reason to hope 
 that the First Consul would agree to a bargain 
 of this kind, or would, indeed, approve of my 
 dictating terms. Madame Bonaparte did me the 
 honour to say that I must be her guest at dinner 
 that night. A moment after Madame Louis 
 Bonaparte entered the drawing-room, and the 
 conversation became general. In the meanwhile 
 time was passing." 
 
 in. 
 
 NAPOLEON APPEARS. 
 
 AND now Napoleon makes his appearance. His 
 entrance, like everything else this strange creature 
 does, is effective : 
 
 " At last, at about seven o'clock, the sound of 
 hurried steps on the staircase, which led to the 
 room in which we were sitting, announced the 
 arrival of the First Consul. Madame Bonaparte 
 introduced me to him. He condescended to 
 receive me with a kindness which at once dissi- 
 
74 Napoleon. 
 
 pated the respectful awe in which I stood. He 
 walked rapidly into the dining-room, whither I 
 followed Madame Bonaparte and her daughter. 
 Madame Bonaparte made me sit next her. The First 
 Consul spoke to me several times during dinner, 
 which only lasted twenty minutes. He spoke of 
 my studies, and of Palissot, with a kindness and 
 a simplicity which put me entirely at my ease, and 
 showed me how gentle and simple this man, who 
 bore on his forehead and in his eyes the mark of 
 such imposing superiority, was in his private life. 
 When I returned to the drawing-room we found 
 General Davoust. The First Consul walked up 
 and down the room with him, conversing, and a 
 quarter of an hour later disappeared by the stair- 
 case from which he had come, without having 
 spoken to me on the matter for which he had 
 ordered my attendance." 
 
 This whole picture is so like Napoleon ; the 
 hurried entrance, the equally hurried dinner, and 
 then the resumption immediately after of the 
 interrupted threads of work. Let us go on : 
 
 " I remained with Madame Bonaparte until 
 eleven o'clock. I had asked her to be so good as 
 to tell me whether I should go away, thinking that 
 I had been forgotten. She told me to remain, and 
 assured me that the First Consul would send for 
 me. True enough, a footman came to fetch me. 
 I followed him down a long passage to a staircase 
 by which we reached a little door, at which he 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 75 
 
 knocked. There was a wicket in this door, which 
 I examined with curiosity. My state of mind was 
 such that I seemed to be outside the place of 
 eternal imprisonment, and involuntarily I raised 
 my eyes to see whether I could not read over the 
 door that inscription of Dante's, ' Lasciate ogni 
 speranza voi ch y entrate' An usher, who had 
 looked through the wicket, opened the door after 
 some words with the footman, and I was shown 
 into a small drawing-room poorly lighted. Whilst 
 I was being announced I cast a rapid glance around 
 the room, being anxious to acquaint myself with 
 what was to be my prison. The furniture con- 
 sisted of some chairs covered with green morocco, 
 and a very luxurious roll-top writing-table, which 
 was loaded with gilt bronze ornaments, and inlaid 
 with rosewood mosaics representing various musical 
 instruments. I afterwards learned that these 
 pieces of furniture had belonged to Louis XVI. 
 It was subsequently sent to the garde meuble as 
 useless. A low book-case ran round one side 
 of the room. Some papers were scattered on 
 the top." 
 
 IV. 
 
 MNEVAL STARTS WORK. 
 
 " I WAS announced, and immediately afterwards 
 was ushered into a room, where I saw the First 
 Consul seated behind a writing-table. A three- 
 branched flambeau, covered with a shade, cast 
 
76 Napoleon. 
 
 a strong light on the table. The rest of the 
 room was in the shade, broken only by the 
 light from the fire on the hearth. The First 
 Consul's back was towards me, and he was 
 occupied in reading a paper, and finished 
 reading it without taking notice of my entrance. 
 He then turned round on his chair towards me. 
 I had remained standing at the door of his 
 cabinet, and on seeing him turn round I ap- 
 proached him. After having examined me for 
 a moment with a piercing glance, which would 
 have greatly intimidated me if I had seen it 
 then for the first time, he told me that he 
 wished to attach me to his service, and asked 
 me if I felt myself strong enough to undertake 
 the task which he proposed to confide to me. 
 I answered him with some embarrassment, with 
 the commonplace remark that I was not very 
 sure of myself, but that I would do all in my 
 power to justify his confidence. I kept my 
 objections to myself, because I knew that he 
 would not like them, and, besides, the way in 
 which he had received me at dinner had con- 
 siderably weakened them. He did not seem 
 dissatisfied with my answer, for he rose from 
 his seat and came up to me smiling, rather 
 sardonically, it is true, and pulled my ear, which 
 I knew to be a sign of favour. He then said 
 to me, ' Very well, come back to-morrow morning 
 at seven, and come straight here.' That was all 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 77 
 
 the [[conversation which preceded my admission 
 into [this sanctuary, which I pictured as a sort 
 of place from which nothing but invisible oracles 
 proceeded, accompanied by lightning and thunder. 
 Such was the very simple investiture by which 
 I received a post, the responsibility of which 
 seemed so terrible that, when it was proposed 
 to me, I could only think of it with terror. 
 After this short audience, and this laconic dia- 
 logue, the First Consul made a sign with his 
 hand which I took for an order to withdraw, 
 and left me to go into an adjoining drawing- 
 room, where no doubt, some business awaited 
 him. Slightly reassured by the simplicity of 
 this commencement I went back the way I had 
 come, preceded by my guide, who had waited 
 for me outside the door. Nothing but solitude 
 and silence reigned in the dimly-lighted corridors 
 through which I passed. I met nobody on my 
 way out, except a sentry placed at the gate of the 
 inner court." 
 
 v. 
 
 FIRST DICTATION. 
 
 OUR poor Meneval, who was then only twenty- 
 four years of age, went home to bed, but had a 
 sleepless night. He was probably relieved when 
 the night was over, for, as he goes on to say : 
 
 "I got up before daybreak, and made my 
 way to the Tuileries, arriving there before the 
 
78 Napoleon. 
 
 appointed hour. I rather feared that I should 
 not be able to find my way in the intricacies ,of 
 the palace, and that I should have difficulty in 
 explaining to the sentries who I was, and was 
 very much surprised at the ease with which I 
 made my way to the door through which I had 
 passed the previous evening, and which I recog- 
 nised by the wicket in it. As soon as he saw 
 me the usher showed me into the cabinet, which 
 was empty. The First Consul was in his drawing- 
 room with the Minister of Finance, M. Gaudin, 
 who afterwards became Due de Gae'te. I sat 
 down at a table which stood in the embrasure 
 of a window, and waited for nearly two hours 
 for the return of the First Consul. He arrived 
 at last, holding a paper in his hand. Without 
 appearing to pay any attention to my presence 
 in his study, just as if I had always been there, 
 and had always occupied the same place, he 
 dictated a note for the Minister of Finance 
 with such volubility that I could hardly under- 
 stand or take down half of what he was dictating. 
 Without asking me whether I had heard him 
 or whether I had finished writing, he took the 
 paper away from me, and would not let me 
 read it over, and on my remarking that it was 
 an unintelligible scribble, he said it was on a 
 matter well known to the Minister, who would 
 easily be able to make it out, and so saying, 
 he went back to the drawing-room. I never 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 79 
 
 knew if M. Gaudin was able to decipher my 
 writing. I feared that the paper might be sent 
 back to me, and that I might be asked to 
 explain what I had written, which would have 
 been quite impossible. I never heard any more 
 about it." 
 
 VI. 
 
 A PORTRAIT OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 M&NEVAL had little more to do on this eventful 
 day of his life, and pauses to give us a portrait 
 of Napoleon as he then was. The date, it will 
 be remembered, was 1802, and Napoleon was 
 still First Consul : 
 
 " Napoleon was at that time moderately stout. 
 His stoutness was increased later on by the 
 frequent use of baths, which he took to refresh 
 himself after his fatigues. It may be mentioned 
 that he had taken that habit of bathing himself 
 every day at irregular hours, a practice which 
 he considerably modified when it was pointed 
 out by his doctor that the frequent use of hot 
 baths, and the time he spent in them, were 
 weakening, and would predispose to obesity. 
 Napoleon was of mediocre stature about five feet 
 two inches and well built, though the bust was 
 rather long. His head was big, and the skull 
 largely developed. His neck was short, and his 
 shoulders broad. The size of his chest bespoke 
 a robust constitution, less robust, however, than 
 
So Napoleon. 
 
 his mind. His legs were well-shaped, his foot 
 was small and well-formed. His hand, and he 
 was rather proud of it, was delicate and plump, 
 with tapering fingers. His forehead was high and 
 broad, his eyes gray, penetrating, and wonderfully 
 alert ; his nose was straight and well-shaped. 
 His teeth were fairly good, the mouth perfectly 
 modelled, the upper lip slightly drawn down 
 toward the corner of the mouth, and the chin 
 slightly prominent. His skin was smooth, and 
 his complexion pale, but of a pallor which denoted 
 a good circulation of the blood. His very fine 
 chestnut hair, which, until the time of the ex- 
 pedition to Egypt, he had worn long, cut square, 
 and covering his ears, was clipped short. The 
 hair was thin on the upper part of the head, and 
 left bare his forehead, the seat of such lofty 
 thoughts. The shape of his face and the ensemble 
 of his features were remarkably regular. In one 
 word, his head and his bust were in no way 
 inferior in nobility and dignity to the most 
 beautiful bust which antiquity has bequeathed 
 to us. Of this portrait, which in its principal 
 features underwent little alteration in the last 
 years of his reign, I will add some particulars 
 furnished by my long intimacy with him. When 
 excited by any violent passion his face assumed 
 an even terrible expression. A sort of rotary 
 movement very visibly produced itself on his 
 forehead and between his eyebrows; his eyes 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 81 
 
 flashed fire; his nostrils dilated, swollen with 
 the inner storm. But these transient move- 
 ments, whatever their cause may have been, in 
 no way brought disorder to his mind. He 
 seemed to be able to control at will these ex- 
 plosions, which, by the way, as time went on, 
 became less and less frequent. His head re- 
 mained cool. The blood never went to it, but 
 flowed back to the heart. In ordinary life his ex- 
 pression was calm, meditative, and gently grave. 
 When in a good humour, or anxious to please, 
 his expression was sweet and caressing, and his 
 face was lighted up by a most beautiful smile. 
 Amongst familiars his laugh was loud and 
 mocking." 
 
 At this period of his life, Napoleon, says 
 Meneval, "was in the enjoyment of vigorous 
 health." He had just been cured by Corvisart of 
 that cutaneous disease which he had contracted 
 from the gunner whose work he did at the siege 
 of Toulon. Napoleon had neglected at the time 
 to undergo treatment : 
 
 "In the carelessness of youth, and being 
 entirely absorbed in his work, he had neglected to 
 undergo any treatment. He contented himself 
 with some remedies which only caused the out- 
 ward signs of the disease to disappear, but the 
 poison had been driven into his system, and 
 caused great damage. This was the reason, it 
 was added, of the extreme thinness, and poor, 
 
 G 
 
82 Napoleon. 
 
 weak look of Napoleon during the campaigns in 
 Italy and Egypt." 
 
 Mr. Sherard, the editor and translator of these 
 volumes, quotes appropriately here the statement 
 from Stendhal that a lady who met Napoleon 
 several times in April and May, 1795, spoke of 
 him as "the thinnest and queerest being I ever 
 met," and " so thin that he inspired pity." 
 
 VII. 
 NAPOLEON AT TABLE. 
 
 MfiNEVAL confirms what other writers have told 
 us of the Spartan simplicity of Napoleon's method 
 of daily life : 
 
 " He dined with Madame Bonaparte and with 
 some persons of his family. On Wednesdays, 
 which were the days of the Council, he kept the 
 Consuls and the Ministers to dinner. He lunched 
 alone, the simplest dishes being served, whilst 
 for drink he contented himself with Chambertin 
 diluted with water, and a single cup of coffee. 
 All his time being occupied, he profited by the 
 lunch hour to receive the people with whom he 
 liked to converse. These were generally men of 
 letters or artists." 
 
 As has already been seen, there were none of 
 the elaborate precautions around the Palace of the 
 Tuileries which in those stormy times one might 
 have expected in the case of a great ruler. There 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 83 
 
 were, nevertheless, plenty of conspiracies against 
 Napoleon's life. Napoleon had a "conviction of 
 the impotence of ... conspirators/' "a con- 
 viction produced either by his confidence in 
 his destiny, or by his contempt for danger." 
 But when at last an attempt was made to 
 Idll him by an infernal machine which ex- 
 ploded a few seconds after his carriage had 
 passed, and wounded nearly eighty people 
 lie for a time consented to precautions and 
 to rigorous measures. But this was not long 
 continued he fell back into his usual feeling of 
 security, ceasing to trouble himself about the 
 dangers which might menace his person : 
 
 "He even listened with impatience to the 
 reports on this subject which were transmitted to 
 him by the police or by the persons around him ; 
 he needed all his calm ; he made no change in his 
 habits, and continued his work without allowing 
 himself to be turned aside from his path. When 
 I entered the Consular Palace, I did not see any 
 of those precautions which denote suspicion and 
 fear." 
 
 VIII. 
 LIFE AT MALMAISON. 
 
 AT La Malmaison Napoleon's life was even more 
 homely : 
 
 " He used to spend the hours which were not 
 taken up by work, exercise, or shooting, with 
 
 G 2 
 
84 Napoleon. 
 
 Josephine. He used to lunch alone, and during 
 this repast, which was a relaxation for him, he 
 received the persons with whom he liked to con- 
 verse on science, art, and literature. He dined 
 with his family, and after dinner would look in at 
 his cabinet, and then, unless kept there by some 
 work, would return to the drawing-room and play 
 chess. As a general rule he liked to talk in a 
 familiar way. He was fond of discussions, but did 
 not impose his opinions, and made no pretension 
 of superiority either of intelligence or of rank. 
 When only ladies were present he liked to criticise 
 their dresses, or tell them tragical or satirical 
 stories ghost stories for the most part. When 
 bed-time came Madame Bonaparte followed him 
 to his room. Napoleon wasted very little time in 
 preparing for the night, and used to say that he 
 got back to bed with pleasure. He said that 
 statues ought to be erected to the men who 
 invented beds and carriages. However, this bed 
 into which he threw himself with delight, though 
 often worn out with fatigue, was quitted more than 
 once during the course of the night. He used to 
 get up after an hour's sleep as wide awake and as 
 clear in his head as if he had slept quietly the 
 whole of the night. As soon as he had lain down 
 his wife would place herself at the foot of the bed, 
 and begin reading aloud. As she read very well 
 he took great pleasure in listening to her. At La 
 Malmaison Napoleon used to spend the moments 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 85 
 
 which were not taken up in his work-room in the 
 park, and there again his time was not wasted." 
 
 IX. 
 
 JOSEPHINE'S OCCUPATIONS. 
 
 MNEVAL was fond of Josephine ; but this picture 
 he gives of her is not very flattering : 
 
 "Josephine spent her time as she chose. She 
 received numerous callers during the day. She 
 used to lunch with some friends, and with new 
 and old acquaintances. She had no accomplish- 
 ments, did not draw, and was not a musician. 
 There was a harp in her apartment on which 
 she used to play for want of anything better 
 to do, and it was always the same tune that 
 she played. She used to work at tapestry, and 
 would get her ladies or her visitors to help her. 
 In this way she had made the coverings for the 
 furniture in the drawing-room at La Malmaison. 
 Napoleon approved of this busy life. The re- 
 establishment of peace with England had allowed 
 Josephine to correspond with some English 
 botanists and the principal London nurserymen, 
 from whom she received rare and new plants and 
 shrubs to add to her collection. She used to 
 give me the letters from England, written in 
 connection with this business, to translate into 
 French. At La Malmaison, Josephine used to 
 visit her fine hothouses regularly and took great 
 
86 Napoleon. 
 
 interest in them. In the evening she would take 
 the backgammon board, a game she was very 
 fond of, and which she played well and quickly. 
 Family theatricals were also played at La 
 Malmaison in a little theatre which accom- 
 modated about two hundred spectators. Eugene 
 Beauharnais, who excelled in footman's parts, and 
 his sister Hortense, were the principal actors, not 
 only by rank but by talent. . . . Napoleon was 
 regularly present at the performances, which con- 
 sisted of little comedies, and thoroughly amused 
 himself. He took pleasure in praising or criticising 
 the actors' performances. His remarks, which 
 were often words of praise, and which were always 
 interesting, showed what an interest he took in 
 these spectacles. On Sundays there were little 
 balls given, at which Napoleon used to dance. 
 He found a charm in this patriarchal life. In his 
 retreat at La Malmaison, Napoleon appeared like a 
 father in the midst of his family. This abnegation 
 of his grandeur, his simple and dignified manners, 
 the pleasing ways and gracious familiarity of 
 Madame Bonaparte had a great charm for me." 
 
 " There was a harp in her apartment on which 
 she used to play for want of anything better to do,, 
 and it was always the same tune that she played." 
 What a delightful picture of this strange, empty- 
 headed, frivolous, attractive creature ! I suppose 
 when Napoleon at twenty-six was paying court to 
 her, this harp did duty as an evidence of her 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 87 
 
 numerous accomplishments. Poor Josephine! She 
 made the most of herself; but why not ? 
 
 x. 
 
 MENEVAL CHARMED. 
 
 MENEVAL, it will seem, was a good deal happier in 
 his new position than he had expected : 
 
 " I could not conceal my surprise at finding 
 such simplicity of habits in a man like Napoleon, 
 who from afar seemed so imposing. I had ex- 
 pected to find him brusque, and of uncertain 
 temper, instead of which I found him patient, 
 indulgent, easy to please, by no means exacting, 
 merry with a merriness which was often noisy and 
 mocking, and sometimes of charming bonhomie. 
 This familiarity on his part did not, however, 
 awake corresponding familiarity. Napoleon played 
 with men without mixing with them. He desired 
 to put me entirely at my ease with him, from the 
 very first days of my service, and, in consequence, 
 from the very first I felt no embarrassment in his 
 presence. Doubtless he impressed me to some 
 extent, but I was no longer afraid of him. I 
 was fortified in this state of mind by all that 
 I saw of his pleasant and affectionate ways with 
 Josephine, the assiduous devotion of his officers, 
 the kindliness of his relations with the Consuls 
 and the Ministers, and his familiarity with the 
 soldiers." 
 
88 Napoleon. 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF A CRIME. 
 
 I MAKE a big skip in the Memoirs, and come 
 to a striking description of the day which followed 
 the execution of the Due d'Enghien : 
 
 " La Malmaison presented a sad spectacle that 
 day. I can still remember the silence which 
 reigned that evening in Madame Bonaparte's 
 drawing-room. The First Consul stood with his 
 back against the mantelpiece, whilst Madame de 
 Fontanes read from some book, of which I have 
 forgotten the name. Josephine, with a melancholy 
 look and moist eyes, was seated at the far end 
 of a couch; the persons in attendance, very few 
 in number at the time, had withdrawn into the 
 neighbouring gallery, where they conversed in 
 whispers on the topic which absorbed all minds. 
 Some people came from Paris, but struck by the 
 doleful appearance of the room, remained standing 
 at the door. The First Consul, anxious or pre- 
 occupied, or listening attentively to what Madame 
 de Fontanes was reading, did not appear to notice 
 their presence. The Minister of Finance remained 
 standing in the same place for a quarter of an 
 hour without being spoken to by anybody. Not 
 wishing to go away as he had come, he approached 
 the First Consul, and asked him if he had any 
 orders to give him; the Consul made a negative 
 gesture in reply." 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 89 
 
 XII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S POWER OF WORK. 
 
 As time went on, and Napoleon became involve'd 
 in his great wars, the demands upon his energies 
 were greater. His power of work rose at once 
 to the exigencies of the new situation. Poor 
 Mdneval must have had a very hard time of it; 
 but he speaks of his experiences with a cheerful 
 fortitude which reveals the real loyalty and kindli- 
 ness of his nature. " His activity/' he says of 
 Napoleon, "grew in proportion to the obstacles 
 put in his way, and he sorely taxed my strength, 
 which was by no means equal to my zeal." 
 
 "To give an idea of how the gravity of the 
 situation had developed his faculties, and of the 
 increase in work which had resulted therefrom, 
 and that one may judge how his prodigious 
 activity was equal to everything, it is necessary 
 to acquaint the reader with the new order which 
 Napoleon had established in the despatch of his 
 numerous affairs. The Emperor used to have 
 me waked in the night, when, owing either to 
 some plan which he considered ripe for execution, 
 and which had to be carried out, or to the 
 necessity of maturing the preliminaries of some 
 new project, or to having to send off some courier 
 without loss of time, he was obliged to rise him- 
 self. It sometimes happened that I would hand 
 
90 Napoleon. 
 
 him some document to sign in the evening. ' I 
 will not sign it now,' he would say. 'Be here 
 to-night at one o'clock, or at four in the morning ; 
 we will work together.' On these occasions I 
 used to have myself waked some minutes before 
 the appointed hour. As in coming downstairs 
 I used to pass in front of the door of his small 
 apartment, I used to enter to ask if he had been 
 waked. The invariable answer was, ' He has just 
 rung for Constant,' and at the same moment he 
 used to make his appearance, dressed in his white 
 dressing-gown, with a Madras handkerchief round 
 his head. When by chance he had got to the 
 study before me, I used to find him walking up 
 and down with his hands behind his back, or 
 helping himself from his snuff-box, less from taste 
 than from preoccupation, for he only used to 
 smell at his pinches, and his handkerchiefs were 
 never soiled with the snuff. His ideas developed 
 as he dictated, with an abundance and clearness 
 which showed that his attention was firmly riveted 
 to the subject with which he was dealing ; they 
 sprang from his head even as Minerva sprang, 
 fully armed, from the head of Jupiter. When the 
 work was finished, and sometimes in the midst of 
 it, he would send for sherbet and ices. He used 
 to ask me which I preferred, and went so far in 
 his solicitude as to advise me which would be 
 better for my health. Thereupon he would return 
 to bed, if only to sleep an hour, and could resume 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 91 
 
 his slumber as though it had not been interrupted. 
 The solid en cas of food which used to be brought 
 in at night at the Court before the Revolution, 
 were not supplied at Napoleon's Court, for the 
 Emperor had not inherited the enormous appetites 
 of the princes of the ancient dynasty; but one of 
 the Imperial cooks used to sleep near the larder 
 to serve such refreshments as might be asked 
 for in the night, and which were prepared in 
 advance." 
 
 Sometimes Napoleon would not wake his 
 zealous secretary ; as thus : 
 
 " When the Emperor rose in the night, without 
 any special object except to occupy his sleepless 
 moments, he used to forbid my being waked before 
 seven in the morning. On those occasions I used 
 to find my writing-table, in the morning, covered 
 with reports and papers annotated in his writing. 
 On his return from his levee, which was held at 
 nine o'clock, he used to find, on his return to his 
 cabinet, the answers and decisions which he had 
 indicated drawn up and ready to be sent off/' 
 
 " I never ceased to find him good, patient, and 
 indulgent in his treatment of me," says Meneval, 
 after he has told the story of the one row he ever 
 had with his great master. 
 
92 Napoleon. 
 
 XIII. 
 NAPOLEON IN HIS STUDY. 
 
 MNEVAL is most interesting when he describes 
 Napoleon in his study. There it was that the two 
 saw most of each other ; there Meneval is supreme 
 as an authority. When Meneval speaks about 
 general politics, he is nothing but a blind partisan ; 
 he retains throughout the curious misunderstanding 
 of the English character and the English policy 
 which created the master passion and the master 
 mistake of Napoleon's mind and career; and all 
 our poor Meneval has to say on these subjects may 
 be skipped and dismissed. But when he brings 
 us to the presence and to the side of the great man, 
 he becomes once again fascinating. For instance, 
 can you not see nay, actually hear Napoleon 
 pacing up and down his study as you read this 
 sketch ? 
 
 "When some lengthy answer was rendered 
 necessary by the reading of a report or despatch ; 
 when some spontaneous idea was suggested to him 
 by his observations or comparisons ; or when this 
 idea having sprung up in his mind, elaborated by 
 his meditations, had reached its maturity, and the 
 moment to set it in motion had arrived, Napoleon 
 could not keep still. He could not, like the 
 pythoness, remain attached to his tripod. He 
 collected his thoughts, and concentrated his 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 93 
 
 attention on the subject which was occupying him, 
 taking a strong hold on his mind. He would rise 
 slowly, and begin to walk slowly up and down the 
 whole length of the room in which he found 
 himself. This walk lasted through the whole of 
 his dictation. His tone of voice was grave and 
 accentuated, but was not broken in upon by 
 any time of rest. As he entered upon his subject, 
 the inspiration betrayed itself. It showed itself by 
 a more animated tone of voice, and by a kind 
 of nervous trick which he had of twisting his 
 right arm and pulling at the trimmings of his 
 sleeve with his hand. At such times, he did not 
 speak any faster than before, and his walk remained 
 slow and measured." 
 
 XIV. 
 NAPOLEON AS A MAN OF LETTERS. 
 
 THE extracts which I have given from Taine's 
 sketch of Napoleon will have removed from the 
 minds of my readers the idea if ever they had it 
 that Napoleon was simply the inarticulate or the 
 reticent soldier. Frenchmen themselves are also 
 learning to have a new conception in this respect 
 of Napoleon. Some time ago I heard M. 
 Jusserand, the brilliant and well-informed editor 
 of the French Men of Letters Series, speak of a 
 projected book on Napoleon as a Man of Letters. 
 I have no doubt that when the book comes to be 
 
94 Napoleon. 
 
 written, it will be found that Napoleon is entitled 
 to as high a place in literature as Caesar. 
 
 Here is a very vivid picture of him as he im- 
 provises : 
 
 " He had no difficulty in finding words to 
 express his thoughts. Sometimes incorrect, these 
 very errors added to the energy of his language, 
 and always wonderfully expressed what he wished 
 to say. These mistakes were not, moreover, in- 
 herent to his composition, but were created rather 
 by the heat of his improvisation. Nor were they 
 frequent, and were only left uncorrected when, the 
 despatch having to be sent off at once, time was 
 short. In his speeches to the Senate and to the 
 Legislative Body ; in his proclamations ; in his 
 letters to sovereigns, and in the diplomatic notes 
 which he made his Ministers write, his style was 
 polished and suited to the subject." 
 
 Meneval confirms Taine's statement as to the 
 excessive nervous irritability which prevented 
 Napoleon from writing with his own hand. 
 Rarely, if ever, could he be got to do so. 
 
 " Writing tired him; his hand could not 
 follow the rapidity of his conceptions. He only 
 took up the pen when by chance he happened 
 to be alone, and had to put the first rush of 
 an idea on to paper; but after writing some 
 lines he used to stop and throw away his pen. 
 He would then go out to call his secretary, or, 
 in his absence, either the second secretary, or 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 95 
 
 the Secretary of State, or General Duroc, or 
 sometimes the aide-de-camp on duty, according 
 to the kind of work in which he was engaged. 
 He made use of the first who answered his 
 call without irritation, but rather with a visible 
 satisfaction at being relieved from his trouble. 
 His writing was a collection of letters un- 
 connected with each other and unreadable. Half 
 the letters to each word were wanting. He could 
 not read his own writing again, or would not 
 take the trouble to do so. If he was asked for 
 some explanation he would take his draft and 
 tear it up, or throw it into the fire, and dictate 
 it over again the same ideas, it is true, but 
 couched in different language and a different 
 style." 
 
 xv. 
 NAPOLEON'S ORTHOGRAPHY. 
 
 NAPOLEON, like other great men, had curious 
 and almost unaccountable intellectual hiatuses. 
 He was not correct in spelling he was not perfect 
 in arithmetic. 
 
 " Although he could detect faults in the 
 spelling of others, his own orthography left 
 much to be desired. It was negligence which 
 had become a habit; he did not want to break 
 or tangle the thread of his thoughts by paying 
 attention to the details of spelling. Napoleon 
 also used to make mistakes in figures, absolute 
 
96 Napoleon. 
 
 and positive as arithmetic has to be. He could 
 have worked out the most complicated mathe- 
 matical problems, and yet he could rarely add 
 up a sum correctly. It is fair to add that these 
 errors were not always made without intention. 
 For example, in calculating the number of men 
 who were to make up his battalions, regiments, 
 or divisions, he always used to increase the sum 
 total. One can hardly believe that in doing so 
 he wanted to deceive himself, but he often thought 
 it useful to exaggerate the strength of his armies. 
 It was no use pointing out any mistake of this 
 kind ; he refused to admit it, and obstinately 
 maintained his voluntary arithmetical error. His 
 writing was illegible, and he hated difficult writing. 
 The notes or the few lines that he used to write, 
 and which did not demand any fixed attention, 
 were, as a rule, free from mistakes of spelling, 
 except in certain words over which he invariably 
 blundered. He used to write, for instance, the 
 words ' cabinet,' 'Caffarelli/ 'gabinet,' ' Gaffarelli ' ; 
 ' enfin que/ ' enfant que,' ' infanterie/ ' enfanterie.' 
 The first two words are evidently reminiscences 
 of his maternal language, the only ones which 
 remained over from his earliest youth. The 
 others, ' enfin que ' and ' infanterie,' have no 
 analogy with the Italian language. He had a 
 poor knowledge of this language, and avoided 
 speaking it. He could only be brought to speak 
 it with Italians who did not know French, or who 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 97 
 
 had difficulty in expressing themselves in our 
 language. I have sometimes heard him con- 
 versing with Italians, and what he said was 
 expressed in Italianised French with words ter- 
 minating in i, o, and a." 
 
 xvr. 
 
 LAPSES. 
 
 IN Meneval Napoleon appears, as we have seen, 
 as the most persistent and unsparing of workers. 
 But there are very curious glimpses of Napoleon 
 at intervals when that terrible brain was not 
 working or at least apparently not working at 
 its usual high pressure : 
 
 " He used sometimes to spend whole days 
 without doing any work, yet without leaving the 
 palace, or even his work-room. In these days of 
 leisure which was but apparent, for it usually con- 
 cealed an increase of cerebral activity Napoleon 
 appeared embarrassed how to spend his time. 
 He would go and spend an hour with the Empress, 
 then he would return and, sitting down on the 
 settee, would sleep, or appear to sleep, for a few 
 minutes. He would then come and seat himself 
 on the corner of my writing-table, or on one of 
 the arms of my chair, or sometimes even on my 
 knees. He would then put his arm round my 
 neck and amuse himself by gently pulling my ear, 
 or by patting me on the shoulder, or on the cheek. 
 
 H 
 
98 Napoleon. 
 
 He would speak to me on all sorts of disconnected 
 subjects, of himself, of his manias, of his consti- 
 tution, of me, or of some plan that he had in his 
 head. He was fond of teasing, never bitterly or 
 nastily, but on the contrary with a certain amount 
 of kindness, and accompanied with loud laughter. 
 He would glance through the titles of his books, 
 saying a word of praise or blame on the authors, 
 and would linger with preference over the tragedies 
 of Corneille and Voltaire. He would read tirades 
 from these tragedies aloud, then would shut 
 up the book and walk up and down reciting 
 verses from 'The Death of Caesar.' . . . When 
 he was tired of reading or reciting, he would 
 begin to sing in a strong, but false voice. When 
 he had nothing to trouble him, or he was 
 pleased with what he was thinking about, it 
 was shown in the choice of his songs. These 
 would be airs from ' Le Devin du Village/ 
 or other old operas. . . . When he was in a 
 more serious frame of mind, he used to sing 
 verses from the Revolutionary hymns and chants, 
 such as the Chant du Depart : i Veillons au salut 
 de V Empire^ " 
 
 XVII. 
 WAS NAPOLEON SUPERSTITIOUS? 
 
 MNEVAL says emphatically, No ; though he does 
 admit that Napoleon was something of a fatalist. 
 Josephine, being a Creole, was of course intensely 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 99 
 
 superstitious, and Meneval suggests that a good 
 deal of the money she threw away so recklessly 
 went into the pockets of Madame Lenormand, the 
 famous conjurer of the period. If Napoleon, as 
 is reported, ever did pay Lenormand a visit in 
 Josephine's company, it was at the period when 
 he was too much in love with Josephine to refuse 
 even her most unreasonable request. But Napoleon 
 retained from his early days the " habit of in- 
 voluntarily signing himself with the cross, on 
 hearing of some great danger ; or on the discovery 
 of some important fact, where the interests of 
 France or the success of his plans were concerned, 
 or at the news of some great and unexpected good 
 fortune, or of some great disaster." 
 
 But though Napoleon believed in his star, he 
 never trusted much to luck. 
 
 " He was always prepared in advance for every 
 reverse he might meet." 
 
 " Before finally deciding upon his plans he would 
 subject them to the minutest scrutiny ; every 
 hazard, even the most improbable, being discussed 
 and provided for. I saw Napoleon enjoying 
 prosperity with the keenest pleasure, but I never 
 once saw him betray any surprise. His measures 
 were so well taken, and adverse chances so 
 minimised by his calculations and arrangements, 
 that if anything could have surprised him, it would 
 have been the failure of plans which he had 
 prepared with so much skill and so much care." 
 
 H 2 
 
100 Napoleon. 
 
 XVIII. 
 CURIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S constitution, Meneval declares, was 
 " naturally robust ; and the oath which he had 
 taken from his youth to break off all bad habits 
 had fortified it. He had all the advantages of the 
 bilio-sanguine temperament." 
 
 " I never saw Napoleon ill ; he was only 
 occasionally subject to vomiting bile, which never 
 left any after effects. ... He had feared, for some 
 time, that he was affected with a disease of the 
 bladder . . . but this fear was found to be without 
 foundation. It has been noticed that men are 
 rarely really suffering from the disease with which 
 they imagine themselves to be affected. The 
 existence of the disease which killed the Emperor 
 was not suspected at that time, and I never heard 
 him complain of pains in the stomach." 
 
 But like many robust people, Napoleon was 
 extremely sensitive in certain respects. "The 
 slightest evil smell was sufficient to upset him 
 greatly," and he had " so keen a sense of smell 
 that he could detect the vicinity of a subterranean 
 passage, a cellar, or a sewer, a long way off." 
 
 Here is an even more peculiar instance of his 
 sensitiveness : 
 
 " He had been anxious to gain some acquaint- 
 ance with anatomy, and for this purpose Doctor 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 101 
 
 Corvisart had brought him some anatomical models 
 in wax, representing parts of the heart and 
 stomach. The Emperor had set aside the hour 
 which followed his luncheon for this study, but the 
 illusion produced by the attention given to j tm&G 
 parts of our animal organisation filled "hini\ with 
 such disgust that it used to make him sick. He 
 tried in vain to resist this revolt of his senses, but 
 he was forced to give up his lessons. Nevertheless, 
 the same man, riding over a field of battle after 
 a bloody fight, was not disgusted by the contact 
 of wounds of disgusting appearance and odour. 
 He often used to get off his horse and place his 
 hand on the chest of the wounded man to see 
 whether he still breathed ; he would raise him up, 
 with the help of his officers, and put to his lips 
 a bottle of brandy, which his servant Roustan 
 always carried with him." 
 
 Finally, as to Napoleon's physiognomy, here 
 is a curious fact which I see recorded for the first 
 time: 
 
 "When his coffin was opened at St. Helena, 
 twenty years after it was closed down, Napoleon 
 appeared to be sleeping. His teeth had preserved 
 their whiteness, his beard and nails seemed to 
 have grown since his death. His hands had the 
 colour of life they were supple, and resisted 
 pressure." 
 
iO2 Napoleon. 
 
 XIX. 
 s ? DAILY HABITS. 
 
 NAPOLEON, though he came from Corsica, and 
 though he was the ruler of a nation which even 
 yet leaves something to be desired in the practice 
 of and provision for the bath, was extremely careful 
 as to his personal cleanliness. All his intimates 
 have called attention to his constant habit of 
 taking hot-water baths almost of boiling heat 
 whenever and wherever he could. Ultimately, as 
 Me"neval has recorded, he had to abandon this 
 habit because it tended to increase the inclination 
 to obesity which came to him after his fortieth 
 year, and which, by the way, helped to change 
 the whole face of the world by seriously diminish- 
 ing his powers of work and of immediate decision. 
 Here is Mdneval's description of his daily toilet : 
 
 " He used to brush his arms and his broad 
 chest himself. His valet finished by rubbing him 
 very vigorously on the back and shoulders ; but 
 he often used to make Roustan, who was much 
 stronger, do this for him. He formerly used to 
 be shaved, but for a long time, that is to say, since 
 about 1803, he had shaved himself after he had 
 changed his valet. A small mirror was held 
 before him, and turned as required in the process 
 of shaving. He then used to wash himself with a 
 great quantity of water in a silver basin which, 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 103 
 
 from its size, might have been taken for a vat. 
 A sponge dipped in Eau de Cologne was passed 
 over his hair, and the rest of the bottle was poured 
 over his shoulders. His flannel singlets, his vests 
 and pants of kerseymere, were changed every day. 
 He never gave up wearing his green or blue 
 uniform coats the only coats he ever wore 
 until he was told that they were beginning to 
 show signs of wear. His allowance for dress had 
 at first been fixed at sixty thousand francs; he 
 had reduced this amount to twenty thousand 
 francs, all included. He was fond of saying that 
 with an income of twelve hundred francs and 
 a horse he should have all he wanted. He often 
 referred to the times when he was an artillery 
 lieutenant, and delighted in speaking of the order 
 he put in his expenditure, and the economies 
 which he attempted to avoid getting into debt, 
 especially when the triumph of the English party 
 in Corsica had cut off all supplies from home, and 
 he had charge of his brother Louis, whom he was 
 bringing up and maintaining on his pay. At such 
 times he would censure the example of luxury 
 which his aides-de-camp and the principal officers 
 of his household gave to the officers of lower rank, 
 who were attached to his person. Nevertheless, 
 he liked to be surrounded with splendour and a 
 kind of pomp. He often used to say to those on 
 whom he lavished his money : ' Be economical and 
 even parsimonious at home ; be magnificent in 
 
IO4 Napoleon. 
 
 public.' He followed this maxim himself. Nobody 
 was more modest in his dress, or less particular 
 about his food, and all that concerned him per- 
 sonally. He told me one day that when he was 
 quite a young officer he had sometimes travelled 
 from Paris to Versailles in what used to be called 
 the Court carriages, which were a kind of cheap 
 coach ; very comfortable, he used to add, and 
 where he met very nice people. Only it was 
 not a very expeditious way of travelling, for these 
 carriages took five hours to do the journey." 
 
 xx. 
 
 NAPOLEON IN THE FIELD. 
 
 ONE of the grand secrets of Napoleon's influence 
 with his army was the true spirit of camaraderie 
 which he introduced the moment he went into the 
 field. " In the camp," says Meneval, "all etiquette 
 was banished in the entirely military relations 
 between the sovereign and his comrades-in-arms : 
 
 " The private was authorised to leave the ranks, 
 on presenting arms, and to lay any request he 
 might have to make before the Emperor, either 
 verbally or in writing. Such requests, whether 
 they were granted or refused, were immediately 
 attended to by the Emperor. When it happened 
 that the petition could not be granted, the soldier 
 was always told the reason of such refusal, which 
 was explained to him with kindness. Very often 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 105 
 
 the refusal was compensated for by the grant of some 
 other favour. If any officer had a confession to 
 make to Napoleon, the Emperor was always ready 
 to hear him, and would listen to him in a paternal 
 manner." 
 
 It was one of the curiosities of this extra- 
 ordinary temperament, that even in the midst of 
 his campaigns Napoleon insisted on doing the 
 work, and it might even be said, all the work, of 
 civil administration at home. His Ministers had 
 to write to him every day ; he answered all their 
 reports, and a constant succession of messengers 
 were kept busy between him and Paris. 
 
 " Economical with his time, he calculated the 
 moment of his departure so as to find himself at 
 the head of his troops at the moment when his 
 presence there became necessary. He would then 
 proceed thither in his carriage in full speed. But 
 even during this journey he did not remain 
 idle, but busied himself in reading his despatches, 
 and very often received reports from his generals 
 and answered them forthwith. . . . By means of a 
 lamp which was placed at the back of his carriage, 
 and which lighted up the carriage during the 
 night, he was able to work as though he had been 
 in his work-room." 
 
 This picture of a great soldier on the way 
 to a bloody battle-field, and to the tremendous 
 issues of life and death, empire or disgrace, calmly 
 reading the details of administration, is certainly 
 
io6 Napoleon. 
 
 one of the marvels of history. Let us follow 
 him to the battle-field : 
 
 "Such was the privileged constitution of this 
 extraordinary man that he could sleep an hour, be 
 awakened to give an order, go to sleep again, be 
 awakened anew, without suffering for it in his 
 health or in his rest. Six hours of sleep were 
 sufficient for him, whether taken consecutively or 
 whether spread over intervals in the twenty-four 
 hours. On the days which preceded the battle he 
 was constantly on horseback, reconnoitring the 
 enemy's forces, deciding upon the battle-field, and 
 riding round the bivouac of his army corps. Even 
 in the night he used to visit the lines to assure 
 himself once more of the enemy's forces by the 
 number of its fires, and would tire out several 
 horses in the space of a few hours. On the day of 
 the battle he would place himself at some central 
 point, whence he could see all that was going on. 
 He had his aides-de-camp and orderly officers by 
 him, and used to send them to carry his orders in 
 every direction. At some distance behind the 
 Emperor were four squadrons of the guard, one 
 belonging to each branch of the service, but when 
 he left this position he only took a platoon with him 
 as escort. He used usually to inform his Marshals 
 of the place which he had chosen, so as to be 
 easily found by the officers whom they might send 
 to him. As soon as his presence became necessary 
 he would ride off there at a gallop." 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 107 
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE DESCENT BEGUN. 
 
 I SHALL pass rapidly over much intervening 
 ground, and bring the reader to the days when 
 fortune had turned against Napoleon, and he sank, 
 never again to rise. 
 
 In the midst of the disastrous retreat from 
 Moscow, Napoleon for the first time thought of 
 suicide as an outlet from his troubles. He 
 feared above all things being taken prisoner 
 by the Czar, and being paraded as part of his 
 triumph : 
 
 " He asked his ordinary medical adviser, Doctor 
 Yvan, in consequence, to give him a dose of poison, 
 which was contained in a sachet which he could 
 carry round his neck, and which was to spare him 
 the humiliation of falling alive into the hands of 
 the Cossacks, and of being exposed to the insults 
 of these savages." 
 
 Napoleon carried the black taffeta sachet 
 around his neck until he reached Paris. Then, in 
 the midst of his cheerful surroundings, and of his 
 engrossing occupations, he laid it aside, depositing 
 it in one of his travelling bags. But 1814 came, 
 and Napoleon, ruined, deserted, lonely, at Fon- 
 tainebleau, remembered the sachet: 
 
 " One day, after having consulted Yvan on the 
 various means of putting .an end to one's life, he 
 
io8 Napoleon. 
 
 drew out the sachet in question before the doctor's 
 eyes and opened it. Yvan, terrified by this action, 
 seized part of its contents and threw it into the 
 fire. It appears that on the morrow, a prey to 
 the blackest thoughts, despair seized upon the 
 Emperor's mind, and he rose without summoning 
 anybody, diluted the rest of the poison in a 
 goblet, and swallowed it. What remained of 
 this lethal substance was no doubt insufficient in 
 quantity or had been too much diluted to cause 
 death. On April n, 1814, towards eleven in the 
 evening, the silence of the palace of Fontainebleau 
 was suddenly disturbed by the sound of groans, 
 and the noise of comings and goings. The Dues 
 de Bassano and de Vicence, and General Bertrand, 
 rushed to the Emperor's side, whilst Yvan himself 
 was sent for. Napoleon was stretched out on a 
 sofa in his bedroom, with his head leaning on his 
 hands. He addressed himself to Doctor Yvan : 
 'Death will have nothing to do with me. You 
 know what I have taken.' Yvan, dumbfounded, 
 troubled, stammered, saying that he did not know 
 what His Majesty meant, that he gave him nothing ; 
 at last he lost his head altogether, and rushed out 
 of the room to throw himself into an arm-chair 
 in the adjoining room, where he had a violent fit 
 of hysterics. Napoleon passed a fairly quiet night. 
 On the morrow Doctor Yvan, M. de Turenne, and 
 others, presented themselves at the Emperor's 
 levee, and found him almost recovered from this 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper. 109 
 
 violent moral and physical shock. He was calm, 
 deeply sad, and deplored the unhappy state in 
 which he was leaving France. As to Doctor 
 Yvan, still troubled by the scene of the previous 
 night, and under the impression of the terror with 
 which Napoleon had filled him, he at once decided 
 to remain no longer in the palace. And so, on 
 leaving the levee, he rushed down into the court- 
 yard, and finding a horse tied to one of the gates, 
 jumped on its back and galloped away." 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Two scenes, finally, I shall quote in the closing 
 hours of the great Napoleon drama. Meneval 
 was attached to the person of Marie Louise for 
 some time after the abdication of the Emperor, 
 and only returned to France when Napoleon came 
 back from Elba and had again mounted the 
 throne. Honest Meneval gives a pathetic picture 
 of his last interview with the poor boy who had 
 inherited Napoleon's name : 
 
 "Before leaving, I went to take leave of the 
 young Prince at the Imperial Palace of Vienna. 
 It grieved me to notice his serious and even 
 melancholy air. He had lost that childish cheer- 
 fulness and loquacity which had so much charm in 
 him. He did not come to meet me as he was 
 accustomed to do, and saw me enter without 
 
no Napoleon. 
 
 giving any sign that he knew me. One might 
 have said that misfortune was already beginning 
 its work on this young head, which a great lesson 
 of Providence had seemed to have adorned with 
 a crown on his entrance into life, so as to give a 
 fresh example of the vanity of human greatness. 
 He was like one of those victims destined for 
 sacrifice who are adorned with flowers. Although 
 he had already spent six weeks with the persons 
 to whom he had been confided, with whom I found 
 him, he had not yet got accustomed to them, and 
 seemed to look upon their faces, still strange to 
 him, with distrust. I asked him in their presence 
 if he had a message which I could take for him to 
 his father. He looked at me in a sad and signi- 
 ficant way, then gently freeing his hand from my 
 grasp, he withdrew silently into the embrasure of 
 a window some distance off. After having ex- 
 changed some words with the persons who were 
 in the drawing-room, I approached the spot to 
 which he had withdrawn, and where he was 
 standing looking on with an attentive air. As I 
 bent down to him to say farewell, struck with my 
 emotion, he drew me towards the window, and 
 looking at me with a touching expression, he 
 whispered to me: ( M. Meva, you will tell him 
 that I am still very fond of him ! ' " 
 
The Estimate of a Worshipper, in 
 
 XXIII. 
 A DOOMED MAN. 
 
 MfiNEVAL was not long with Napoleon without 
 discovering that Napoleon, after the return from 
 Elba, had lost his nerve, and knew he was a 
 doomed man : 
 
 " He told me . . . that in making his attempt 
 he had understood that he could appeal only to 
 the courage and patriotism of the nation and to 
 his sword. ' And for the rest/ he added, with a 
 melancholy smile, ' God is great and merciful/ 
 All his words were stamped with a calm sadness 
 and a resignation which produced a great im- 
 pression upon me. I no longer found him 
 animated with that certainty of success which 
 had formerly rendered him confident and in- 
 vincible. It seemed as if his faith in his fortune, 
 which had induced him to attempt the very hardy 
 enterprise of his return from the island of Elba, 
 and which had supported him during his mira- 
 culous march through France, had abandoned 
 him on his entry into Paris." 
 
 Finally, after Waterloo, Meneval followed 
 Napoleon to Malmaison, the scene of his early 
 greatness and of his final overthrow : 
 
 " Walking one day with the Emperor in the 
 private garden which adjoined his cabinet, he 
 told me that he counted on me to follow him. 
 I had no other intention. As I needed a little 
 
1 1 2 Napoleon. 
 
 time to put my affairs in order, I asked him 
 where I was to meet him. He told me that his 
 first intention had been to go to America, but 
 as there were some obstacles in the way of the 
 realisation of this plan, he intended to go and 
 live in England, and added that he meant to 
 insist on the rights which were enjoyed by every 
 English citizen. As I expressed some surprise 
 at this resolution, he exclaimed : ' Without that 
 condition I shall put myself at the head of affairs 
 again.' My surprise increased on hearing this 
 sudden revelation, and I could not help saying : 
 ' But, sire, if such is your thought, do not wait 
 until the time has passed ; at some paces from 
 here devoted generals and a faithful army call 
 for you ; you are not a prisoner, I suppose ? ' 
 ' I have here/ he answered, ' a battalion of my 
 guard who would arrest Becker, if I said one 
 word, and would act as my escort. Young man/ 
 he added, after a moment's silence, and with the 
 gesture of pulling my ear, 'such resolutions are 
 not improvised.' I then saw that the threat of 
 placing himself at the head of affairs had only 
 been torn from him by a flash of natural pride, and 
 that it had never really been in his thoughts. This 
 scene has remained engraved on my memory." 
 
 Meneval had to go back to Paris that night ; 
 when he was able to return to Malmaison, Na- 
 poleon had gone to Rochefort his first milestone 
 on the road that ended in St. Helena and 
 Meneval never saw him more. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 THE ESTIMATE OF AN OFFICIAL* 
 
 So much for the estimate of Napoleon by an 
 enemy and by a friend. Let us now take the 
 more impartial estimate of a somewhat frigid 
 official. While ready to do full justice to Napo- 
 leon's extraordinary genius as an administrator, 
 Chancellor Pasquier had not Me'neval's gift of 
 admiration. Before giving those portions of 
 Pasquier's memoirs which deal with Napoleon, 
 I shall quote several passages of Pasquier's early 
 life partly because they are intensely interesting 
 in themselves, and partly because they help one 
 to understand the secret of Napoleon's long 
 tenure of power, by describing the anarchic con- 
 ditions to which his undisputed authority put 
 an end. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE PASQUIER DYNASTY. 
 
 THE Pasquiers had been a family of officials for 
 generations. They belonged to that curious and 
 
 * "Memoirs of Chancellor Pasquier." Translated by 
 Charles E. Roche. (London : Fisher Unwin.) 
 
 I 
 
H4 Napoleon. 
 
 hereditary race of judicial officers, which is a 
 peculiarity of French official life. Young Pas- 
 quier, born in 1767, seemed destined to follow 
 in the same track as his ancestors to pass 
 from office to office, from salary to salary 
 through all the well-ordered gradations which 
 belong to such a class. But even in his early 
 years he found himself surrounded by the signs 
 of the coming strife. His mother, for instance, 
 had passed, like other people, under the spell of 
 the new gospel, preached by Jean Jacques 
 Rousseau* Like so many other great ladies of 
 the period, she had succeeded in obtaining 
 an interview with that rather morose and shy 
 philosopher by bringing him some music to copy, 
 and it was under the influence of Rousseau that 
 young Pasquier, while still an infant, was sent 
 half naked into the garden of the Tuileries; 
 "the result of this system," is his melancholy 
 comment, " was to make me one of the most 
 chilly of mortals." 
 
 n. 
 
 THE OLD REGIME. 
 
 THE Pasquiers had been able to acquire a pleasant 
 country place near Le Mans, and we have several 
 delightful glimpses of their career of prosperous 
 public employment, and of what the old life of the 
 provinces used to be before the storm burst. For 
 instance, here is a very instructive picture of that 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 115 
 
 kind of prelate who helped to make life agreeable 
 for those who were prosperous, and still more 
 intolerable to those who were at the other end 
 of the social scale : 
 
 " The bishopric of Le Mans was one of those 
 most coveted. Its revenues were considerable ; 
 the episcopal palace was a very fine one, which 
 had, as a dependency, a charming country seat 
 about one league distant from the town. This 
 seat had for some time been occupied by prelates 
 of high birth, grave men who scrupulously fulfilled 
 the duties of their holy ministry. Upon its be- 
 coming vacant in the last years of the reign of 
 Louis XV., it was given to the Abbe 7 Grimaldi, 
 a young ecclesiastic, the scion of a great house, 
 distinguished by his agreeable personality, his 
 intellect, and his remarkably graceful manner. 
 A very pleasant companion, he showed himself 
 capable of a devoted friendship to those whom 
 he honoured by selecting as his friends, and he 
 proved his judgment by the choice of the vicars- 
 general with whom he surrounded himself. They 
 were, generally speaking, younger sons whom 
 fortune had not favoured much, and who had 
 entered the Church merely as a way to a happier 
 condition of affairs. While on terms of friendship 
 with them during the years he spent at the 
 Seminary of Saint-Sulpice, he had promised 
 to summon them to his side as soon as he 
 should be a bishop. He made good his promise, 
 
 I 2 
 
n6 Napoleon. 
 
 and on his arrival at Le Mans, he was accompanied 
 by a flock of vicars-general, who set the bishopric 
 on a footing entirely different from that to which 
 the people had hitherto been accustomed. They 
 contracted acquaintances in the various social 
 circles, specially attaching themselves to those 
 with whom they could enter into the most agree- 
 able relations. The bishop viewed this life of 
 excitement, if not with a complacent, at least 
 with a very indulgent eye. His pastoral ex- 
 cursions through his diocese were few and far 
 between, and long did he tarry in the chateaux 
 where he found society to his taste." 
 
 In the days before the Revolution, men 
 entered upon professional life at an early age. 
 At fifteen they entered either the army or navy ; 
 at twenty a man could be a well-instructed 
 officer in the engineers ; at twenty-one, could 
 enter the magistracy ; and it was at that age that 
 Pasquier entered as a Councillor into the Parlia- 
 ment of Paris. This was in January, 1787, just 
 about that moment when the distracted Councillors 
 of the King were beginning to think of some means 
 of rescuing the kingdom from bankruptcy; and 
 when Calonne was summoning the Assembly of 
 the Notables which was the forerunner of the 
 States General. 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 117 
 
 in. 
 
 PARIS BEFORE THE STORM. 
 
 I WILL pass over M. Pasquier's account of those 
 conflicts between the old Parliament of Paris and 
 the Court which were among the first heralds of 
 the Revolution ; I go on to quote a passage which 
 is remarkable, though I do not think it can be 
 correct. One of the disputed points in French 
 history and in French political life to this hour, is 
 the state of France before the Revolution. One can 
 easily see why Conservatives are ready to proclaim 
 that the country was progressing; while the 
 Radical, who dates human progress from 1789, 
 should draw just as black pictures of the ante- 
 Revolutionary times. M. Pasquier was a Con- 
 servative, with certain Liberal leanings ; and to 
 that extent one must take his account as some- 
 what partial : but still here is his description, for 
 what it is worth, of the appearance of Paris just 
 before the breaking of the storm. The interest of 
 the picture is largely enhanced by the contrast it 
 suggests between Paris and its aristocracy in the 
 days which preceded and those which followed 
 the outbreak of the storm : 
 
 " I saw the splendours of the Empire. Since 
 the Restoration I see daily new fortunes spring up 
 and consolidate themselves ; still, nothing so far 
 has in my eyes equalled the splendour of Paris 
 
n8 Napoleon. 
 
 during the years which elapsed between 1783 and 
 1789. Magnificent residences stood then in the 
 Marais quarter and in the He Saint-Louis. What is 
 the Faubourg Saint-Germain of to-day compared 
 with the Faubourg Saint-Germain of that period ? 
 And then with regard to outdoor luxury, let those 
 who can remember a field day or a race day at 
 Longchamps, or merely the appearance of the 
 boulevard, ask themselves if the stream of equi- 
 pages with two, four, or six horses, all vying in 
 magnificence, and closely packed together at these 
 places of rendezvous, did not leave far behind the 
 string of private or livery coaches, among which 
 appear a few well-appointed turn-outs, that are to 
 be seen in the same localities nowadays ? " 
 
 Similarly, Pasquier holds that the exactions of 
 the Crown, and the abuses of power, were much 
 exaggerated ; and summing up the answer to the 
 question, " Whence came that passion for reform, 
 that desire to change everything ? " he says, " it 
 was due rather to a great stirring up of ideas than 
 to actual sufferings.," a statement I can hardly 
 think correct. It is a statement, besides, in direct 
 conflict with Taine, another very strong Conserva- 
 tive writer, one of whose points against the 
 Revolution is the invasion of Paris by hordes of 
 hungry and desperate men. Hungry and desperate 
 men do not rush to a metropolis merely because 
 there is " a great stirring up of ideas." 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 119 
 
 IV. 
 THE TAKING OF THE BASTILLE. 
 
 You will get some idea of all the momentous and 
 picturesque sights which Pasquier saw, from this 
 simple beginning of one of the chapters in his 
 book: "I was present at the taking of the 
 Bastille." His account differs very materially from 
 that which one has formed in one's mind of 
 that historic day. It makes the whole affair 
 rather a playful and light burlesque than a hideous 
 and portentous tragedy. Here is what M. Pasquier 
 says : 
 
 "What has been styled the fight was not 
 serious, for there was absolutely no resistance 
 shown. Within the stronghold's walls were 
 neither provisions nor ammunition. It was not 
 even necessary to invest it. 
 
 " The Regiment of Gardes Franqaises, which 
 had led the attack, presented itself under the walls 
 on the Rue Saint- Antoine side, opposite the main 
 entrance, which was barred by a drawbridge. 
 There was a discharge of a few musket-shots, to 
 which no reply was made, and then four or five 
 discharges from the cannon. It had been claimed 
 that the latter broke the chains of the drawbridge. 
 I did not notice this, and yet I was standing close 
 to the point of attack. What I did see plainly 
 was the action of the soldiers, the invalides, or 
 
I2O Napoleon. 
 
 others grouped on the platform of the high tower, 
 holding their musket-stocks in air, and expressing 
 by all means employed under similar circumstances 
 their desire of surrendering. 
 
 "The result of this so-called victory, which 
 brought down so many favours on the heads of 
 the so-called victors, is well known. The truth is 
 that this great fight did not for a moment frighten 
 the numerous spectators who had flocked to 
 witness its result. Among them were many 
 women of fashion, who, in order to be closer to 
 the scene, had left their carriages some distance 
 away." 
 
 v. 
 
 THE GIRONDISTS. 
 
 PASQUIER saw the arrival of the Girondists in 
 Paris ; and it is interesting and pathetic to read 
 his account of the hopes with which these men 
 entered on their duties, when one knows how most 
 of them ended on the guillotine. Pasquier had a 
 friend in the Revolutionary party, a M. Ducos, 
 and M. Ducos induced him to remain to breakfast 
 with his fellow deputies from the Gironde. This 
 breakfast is very different from the last supper of 
 the Girondists with which history is familiar the 
 supper before the wholesale execution of the 
 group : 
 
 " All of them were intoxicated with visions of 
 future successes, and they did not take the trouble 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 121 
 
 of hiding from me, although I had been introduced 
 to them as an out-and-out Royalist, if not their 
 plans, at least their ideas, which were of the 
 Republican order. I was none the less struck 
 with their madness. The eloquence of Vergniaud 
 made itself felt even in the course of ordinary 
 conversation, and it seemed to me destined to 
 become the most formidable weapon of the party 
 whose cause he was embracing." 
 
 VI. 
 THE ADVANCE OF THE STORM. 
 
 ONE of the curious things brought out in these 
 Memoirs, is the strength of the hold the King and 
 Queen had on many sections of the population, 
 even at the moment when they were steadily 
 advancing to their doom. Taine has proved 
 pretty conclusively that the Jacobins, at the 
 moment when they captured supreme power in 
 the State, were in a minority; Pasquier's testimony 
 tends to confirm this. 
 
 Here, for instance, is a scene in which the 
 Queen figured : 
 
 "During these last months, I saw the un- 
 fortunate Queen at a performance of Italian opera, 
 greeted with the cheers of a society audience 
 which was eager to give her such small consola- 
 tion. I saw this audience go wild when Madame 
 Dugazon sang with Mermier the ' Evtnements 
 
122 Napoleon. 
 
 impr&vus* duo, which ends with the following 
 words, ' Oh, how I love my master ! Oh, how I 
 love my mistress ! ' And upon her return to the 
 Tuileries, there were those who did not hesitate 
 to tell her that she had just listened to a genuine 
 expression of the feelings of her subjects towards 
 her." 
 
 Pasquier plainly shows that indecision was 
 one of the main causes of the downfall of the 
 Throne. For instance, there was no proper 
 preparation for defending the Tuileries, though 
 there were plenty of gallant young men ready 
 to die in defending the entrance to the palace. 
 Pasquier himself was of the number, and he gives 
 a very vivid though brief picture of the dangers of 
 the period by the following anecdote : 
 
 " The King had still at his disposal a regiment 
 of the Swiss Guards and a few battalions of the 
 National Guard, whose loyalty was undoubted. 
 These ready means of defence were increased by 
 a number of devoted followers, to whom free 
 access to the chateau had been granted, and who 
 had firmly resolved to make a rampart of their 
 bodies in defence of the Royal Family. 
 
 " Together with the Prince de Saint-Maurice I 
 resolved upon joining this faithful band. On the 
 morning of August Qth we wrote to M. de Champ- 
 cenetz to ask him for cards of admission. They 
 had not reached us by evening, and during the night 
 between August 9th and loth we made several 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 123 
 
 vain attempts to get into the chateau, which was 
 then being threatened. If I make a note of this 
 fact it is not because of its actual importance, but 
 because of a couple of circumstances pertaining 
 thereto, one of which was of a fatal nature, while 
 the other was fortunate to a degree. The card 
 which I had asked for on August Qth reached me 
 by the local post two days later, when all was over. 
 How was it that it should have been so long 
 delayed in transmission without being intercepted ? 
 How was it that it did not then bring about my 
 arrest ? It was a piece of good luck which I have 
 never been able to explain. Fate was not equally 
 kind to the Prince de Saint-Maurice. His readi- 
 ness to serve the King had no other result than 
 mine, with the exception that his card did not 
 reach him, and that he never discovered any trace 
 of it. He lost his head on the scaffold, under the 
 accusation of having been one of the defenders of 
 the Tuileries." 
 
 VII. 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 THE following picture gives even a more vivid 
 glimpse of the perils which every friend of the 
 Old Order ran at this period. It took place after 
 the King had been compelled to take refuge in 
 the Assembly : 
 
 " The inevitable consequences of this event 
 were a fearful state of confusion and an actual 
 
124 Napoleon. 
 
 dissolution of society. No longer did any one 
 feel safe. No one expected to see the next 
 day. My own safety was most seriously com- 
 promised by an imprudent detail of costume. On 
 the morning of the nth I made the mistake of 
 going out with my hair trimmed and gathered up 
 with a comb. I had forgotten that this mode 
 of wearing the hair formed part of the uniform 
 of the Swiss Guards. This slight indication was 
 sufficient for two or three hundred angry men 
 to pounce upon me on the Boulevard de la 
 Madeleine. I was unable to make myself heard, 
 and so was dragged to the Place Vendome, where 
 the mob was stringing up to lamp-posts all the 
 Swiss and other fugitives from the chateau they 
 could lay their hands on. 
 
 " I was rescued by a little drummer of the 
 precinct who recognised me. It was he who was 
 in the habit of notifying me when it was my turn 
 to go on guard duty, and as I never answered 
 the call, I was in the habit of paying him some- 
 what liberally for finding a substitute for me. He 
 fought his way into the midst of the raving horde, 
 commanded silence by a vigorous beating of the 
 drum, shouted that I was not a Swiss, and gave 
 my name and place of residence. On the strength 
 of his testimony I was escorted home in triumph." 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 125 
 
 VIII. 
 A TERRIBLE PLAN. 
 
 THE fanaticism of the Revolutionary party the 
 strange mixture of the exaltation and self-sacrifice 
 of a religious faith, and of a readiness to appeal to 
 the most unscrupulous means for gaining their 
 ends all this is brought out by the following 
 story. If we did not know what times these were, 
 the story would be incredible; as it is, M. Pasquier 
 only confirms what has appeared in the memoirs 
 of the Revolutionary leaders. This is his story 
 of an interview with his Revolutionary friend, 
 Ducos : 
 
 " In the exultation of his triumph he revealed 
 everything, and he told me a thing which the 
 'Memoirs of Madame Roland ' have since con- 
 firmed, namely, the resolution reached at one of 
 their caucuses to sacrifice one of their number, and 
 to have him murdered, in order to impute his 
 assassination to the Court, if no other means were 
 forthcoming to excite the people against it. One 
 Grangeneuve, I believe, had offered to sacrifice his 
 life, and was to be the victim." 
 
 IX. 
 THE DEATH OF THE KING. 
 
 PASQUIER saw the execution of the King unwill- 
 ingly and accidentally. This is what happened : 
 
126 Napoleon. 
 
 " I lived in a house which faced on the Boule- 
 vard at the corner of the Madeleine Church. My 
 father and I sat opposite each other all the 
 morning buried in our grief, and unable to utter 
 a word. We knew the fatal procession was 
 wending its way by the Boulevards. Suddenly 
 a somewhat loud clamour made itself heard. I 
 rushed out under the idea that perhaps an attempt 
 was being made to rescue the King. How could 
 I do otherwise than cherish such a hope to the 
 very last? On reaching the goal I discovered 
 that what I had heard was merely the howling 
 of the raving madmen who surrounded the vehicle. 
 I found myself sucked in by the crowd which 
 followed it, and was dragged away by it, and, so 
 to speak, carried and set down at the scaffold's 
 side. So it was that I endured the horror of this 
 awful spectacle. 
 
 " Hardly had the crime been consummated 
 when a cry of * Long live the nation ! ' arose from 
 the foot of the scaffold, and, repeated from man 
 to man, was taken up by the whole of the vast 
 concourse of people. The cry was followed by the 
 deepest and most gloomy silence ; shame, horror, 
 and terror were now hovering over the vast locality. 
 I crossed it once more, swept back by the flood 
 which had brought me thither. Each one walked 
 along slowly, hardly daring to look at another. 
 The rest of the day was spent in a state of pro- 
 found stupor, which spread a pall over the whole 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 127 
 
 city. Twice was I compelled to leave the house, 
 and on both occasions did I find the streets 
 deserted and silent. The assassins had lost 
 their accustomed spirit of bravado. Public grief 
 made itself felt, and they were silent in the face 
 of it." 
 
 x. 
 
 THE REIGN OF TERROR. 
 
 ONE cannot help breathing hard while reading, 
 amid all its baldness, many passages of this work, 
 and especially those which give us pictures of 
 the Reign of Terror. Poor young Pasquier had 
 abundant opportunity of realising all the perils 
 of that terrible time. Nearly all the old members 
 of the Paris Parliament were classed as aristocrats 
 and reactionaries ; and to have been one of them, 
 unless Revolutionary fervour or atrocities came as 
 a defence and an obliteration, amounted to a 
 certainty of imprisonment, and an almost equal 
 certainty of condemnation and death. 
 
 Pasquier's father was arrested with many of 
 his colleagues, and was ultimately guillotined. 
 Nothing can give a better idea of the horrors 
 of the time than the simple narrative which 
 Pasquier unfolds of his father's and his own 
 adventures at this epoch. Here, for instance, is 
 a curious picture of the state of mind which 
 constant peril produced the feeling that im- 
 
128 Napoleon. 
 
 prisonment was more welcome than liberty a 
 gaol safer than any other refuge : 
 
 " My father and I, therefore, went in different 
 directions after a fond embrace, and with hardly 
 the strength of uttering a word. We were 
 never to meet again. I returned to Champigny. 
 My father hid himself at La Muette, where he 
 had dwelt during the course of the previous 
 summer. Two days later he gave himself up, 
 fearing that my mother might be arrested in 
 his stead. Hardly was he within the walls 
 of his prison, which had as inmates M. de 
 Malesherbes, all the members of the Rosambo 
 family, and a large number of his friends, when 
 he experienced a feeling of relief. Indeed, 
 outside of prison, one dared not meet, see, 
 speak, nay, almost look at anybody, so great 
 was the fear of mutually betraying each other. 
 Relatives and the most intimate friends dwelt 
 apart in the most absolute isolation. A knock 
 at the door, and one supposed at once that the 
 commissioners of the Revolutionary Committee 
 had come to take one away. When once behind 
 the bolts it was different. One found oneself, 
 in a certain sense, once more enjoying social 
 life, for one was in the midst of one's relations, 
 of one's friends, whom one could see without 
 hindrance, and with whom one could freely 
 converse. The great judicial massacres (I am 
 speaking of the month of January, 1794) had 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 129 
 
 not yet taken place. Few days, however, went 
 by without some victims, but the number of 
 those behind the bars was so great, that to each 
 one of them all danger seemed somewhat distant; 
 and lastly, no sooner were many of them in gaol 
 than they ended in believing that they were safer 
 there than out of doors. One could no longer 
 (so at least they imagined) accuse them of 
 conspiring; and, were the foreign armies to 
 make great progress, as there were good grounds 
 for supposing, they would while in prison be 
 more out of the reach of popular frenzy than 
 'elsewhere. So powerful a hold did these im- 
 pressions take on the mind of my father, that 
 having a few days later found the means of 
 reaching me by letter, he urged me to reflect 
 upon my situation, to well consider if the life 
 that I was leading, and which he knew from 
 experience, was not a hundred times worse than 
 his own. Then, assuming that I would determine 
 to get myself arrested, he informed me of an 
 agreement that he had entered into with the 
 porter of the prison to reserve for him alone, 
 for a few days longer, the room which he 
 occupied, so that we could dwell together." 
 
 XI. 
 ANOTHER NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 BUT young Pasquier did not take this advice, 
 and kept himself in hiding. However, he was 
 
 K 
 
130 Napoleon. 
 
 not always to remain concealed, for if he did 
 so he would have been denounced as an emigre, 
 and his father, as the parent of an emigre, would 
 have been more certain than ever of condemnation ; 
 and so, says Pasquier, " I was compelled to send 
 to my mother, every three months, certificates 
 of residence, which she might produce in case 
 of need." Let me pause for a moment in my 
 extracts to point out how the beauty, devotion, 
 self-sacrifice of French family life shine out in 
 all the darkness of those hideous times. It is 
 well to note the fact amid so much that is corrupt, 
 unwholesome, and perilous in French society, that 
 this beautiful ideal of a united and affectionate 
 home has been preserved. Unhappy and hopeless, 
 indeed, would France be if that pillar and ground- 
 work of her national safety were imperilled or 
 weakened. 
 
 Young Pasquier found several friends who 
 were willing to conceal him during this period, 
 and to run considerable risks in doing so. These 
 friends also managed to get him the precious 
 certificates, which protected both himself and 
 his father. Several witnesses were required, and 
 a Madame Tavaux, a mercer, who lived close to 
 the house of the Pasquier family, and had been 
 befriended by them, was the chief agent in getting 
 these witnesses. Here is what happened one day : 
 
 " The greater number of those whom she 
 thus brought together had no acquaintance with 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 131 
 
 me whatever, and yet, on her mere word, they 
 ventured to compromise themselves in the most 
 dangerous fashion, so as to get me out of my 
 difficulty. Thus did I reap the fruit of a few 
 slight services rendered by my people in other 
 days." 
 
 " I had just secured one of the precious 
 certificates of residence which I had so eagerly 
 sought. It had been granted to me by the 
 General Assembly of the section, held in the 
 church of the Trinite. I was about to depart 
 when a little man approached me, and drew 
 me aside under the pretence of saying a few 
 words. I followed him without fear, believing 
 him one of the witnesses procured on my behalf 
 whom I did not know. He turned out to be a 
 member of the Revolutionary Committee, and 
 without further ado he handed me over to a 
 guard close by. The latter was ordered to take 
 me before the Committee, and I remained in his 
 custody until the members of it had assembled. 
 No sooner had I been questioned than it became 
 an easy matter for them to elicit the fact that 
 I was an ex-Councillor of the Paris Parliament, 
 and that my father was already under arrest. 
 There was consequently no room for doubt that 
 I was a good capture, and I was notified, in 
 spite of all my protestations, that I was to be 
 taken to the Luxembourg prison." 
 
 K 2 
 
132 Napoleon. 
 
 XII. 
 A RESCUING ANGEL. 
 
 AND then came a scene which is probably only 
 possible in France. Whatever may be going on 
 there farce, comedy, the high tension of tragedy 
 woman steps in and asserts her right of control. 
 I don't know anything which makes upon me 
 so strange an impression as the frou-frou of these 
 French petticoats in the midst of slaughter, terror, 
 and universal chaos. I read a book some time 
 ago which had Zola and his acolytes for its 
 contributors. It was a series of stories, all 
 associated with the terrible war of 1870. It is 
 the book which contains Zola's own splendid 
 and pathetic little story, "The Attack on the 
 Mill," and, if I mistake not, it is in the same 
 volume that one finds that weird, amusing, 
 appalling sketch, "Boule de Suif," Maupassant's 
 most powerful, thrilling, and most pessimistic con- 
 tribution to contemporary literature. There was 
 another story, which was the history of an intrigue 
 between Trochu and a high-class demi-mondaine 
 in the very midst of the siege, and the sense of 
 awe, horror, disgust, which you feel at this odious 
 episode in the midst of the crash of bombs and 
 the submergence in awful suffering of a whole 
 world, is something that you can never forget. 
 
 All this I think of as I read the episode 
 Pasquier tells in the history of his imprisonment : 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 133 
 
 " As it was necessary to make out a warrant 
 for my arrest and order of committal, I was, while 
 this was being done, taken into a room, where 
 I was placed in custody of the same guard. 
 Fortune willed that a young and rather good- 
 looking woman should come into it just the same 
 time. She was in a gay mood, and seeing me 
 look rather disheartened, she could not resist the 
 temptation of asking me the reason for being so 
 downcast. I had no difficulty in enlightening her. 
 As soon as I had told her my story, she ex- 
 claimed : ' What's that ? There was no personal 
 charge against you, and they are going to send 
 you to prison because you are your father's son ! 
 What nonsense ! Wait a bit, I will go and talk to 
 them.' No sooner said than she knocked at the door 
 of the Committee-room, imperiously demanded 
 admittance, and walked in as if in her own house. 
 Now this woman was no less a person than the 
 Citoyenne Mottei, the wife of the President of the 
 Committee, and she exercised a powerful influence 
 over her husband, who, on his side, held absolute 
 sway over his colleagues. I soon heard an ani- 
 mated discussion, wherein the voice of Madame 
 Mottei rose above all others. She came out at 
 last, told me that she had done her best, and 
 that there was a chance of my case taking a 
 favourable turn." 
 
 But even yet Pasquier's case was not decided, 
 his danger not yet over. Final rescue came, partly 
 
134 Napoleon. 
 
 through an old townsman Levasseur, a Revolu- 
 tionary leader, whom Pasquier and his family had 
 known in happier days partly again through 
 female agency. Petticoats and the tumbril a 
 woman's smiles, blandishments, appeals to the 
 family affection and sexual love of these unchained 
 tigers on the one side ; and the cold relentlessness 
 of the Revolutionary tribunals and the constant 
 swish of the guillotine on the other it is only 
 France which could produce a combination so 
 grotesque, appalling, ironic. 
 
 XIII. 
 STILL THE REIGN OF TERROR. 
 
 I MUST give one or two other pictures of the 
 Reign of Terror before I go on to another section 
 of Pasquier's Memoirs. The very acidity and 
 almost brutal terseness of the style help to in- 
 crease one's sense of the horrors of the time. 
 After the escape to which I have already alluded, 
 Pasquier once more buried himself in the provinces. 
 Here came the dreadful news that his father had 
 been guillotined, and many others who had been 
 friends and colleagues : 
 
 " I spent two months of mental suffering in the 
 locality where I had received the awful news. It 
 was, I can never forget it, in the midst of some 
 of the first days of a beautiful spring. All these 
 dreadful misdeeds were being perpetrated with 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 135 
 
 impunity under the rays of a most glorious sun. 
 Alone with my grief, I would often wander for 
 whole days through the woods and among the 
 hills surrounding our retreat. I looked up to 
 heaven, calling upon it to avenge the crimes of 
 the earth." 
 
 After months of unsuccessful attempts to cross 
 the frontier, of hiding in all kinds of refuges, 
 Pasquier and his wife were arrested at Amiens 
 by some members of the Revolutionary Committee 
 of Paris. In separate post - chaises they were 
 brought back to Paris. 
 
 There is something very weird in the account 
 of this strange journey. It gives a picture of the 
 times as vivid as any that I have ever read. I 
 know no passage, indeed, which leaves so vivid an 
 impression, except the chapters in that wonderful 
 but little-known book of Balzac, " Les C/wuans" 
 Pasquier's narrative is, of course, coloured by the 
 prejudices of his class and of those awful times ; 
 but these things add point to the portraits he 
 gives of the persons and the incidents. One sees, 
 living before one and as it were in a microscope, 
 the upheaval of classes, the strange transformation 
 of parties, and the seething ideas of that terrible 
 Revolution, in the following description of Pas- 
 quier's journey between Amiens and Paris : 
 
 " My companion was a little cripple, physically 
 as hideous as his soul was perverse. He greatly en- 
 joyed telling me that he had known me since child- 
 
136 Napoleon. 
 
 hood, and that he had leaded chairs in our parish 
 church. He took pains to add that he would ever 
 remember the generosity of my grandfather and 
 father who had often given him a louis by way of a 
 New Year's gift. He was a fervent disciple of the 
 new philosophy, and his memory was stuffed with 
 passages from the works of Voltaire and Jean 
 Jacques. Thus, on passing a certain chateau 
 which was being demolished, he remarked, ' No 
 chateau ever falls but one sees twenty cottages 
 arise in its stead/ 
 
 "On our passing through the village of 
 Sarcelles, he gave me a curious example of the 
 regeneration of morals towards which he and his 
 compeers daily worked so zealously. On my 
 pointing out to him a country residence of some- 
 what finer appearance and better kept than those 
 we had seen so far, for everything in those days 
 presented an appearance of decay and neglect, 
 he replied, M should well think so. It is the 
 house of our friend Livry. We often visit him. 
 He still possesses, it is true, an annual income of 
 fifty thousand livres, but he is a first-class fellow, 
 We have just married him to the Citoyenne 
 Saulnier, with whom he had so long cohabited. 
 (She was premiere danseuse at the Opera.) " Come 
 now," we said to him, "it is time that this dis- 
 graceful state of affairs should cease. To the 
 winds with family prejudice ! The ci-devant 
 marquis must marry the dancer." So he married 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 137 
 
 her, and did wisely, for he might otherwise have 
 already danced his last jig, or at the very least 
 be rusticating in the shade of the walls of the 
 Luxembourg prison.' Happily, our two guards 
 combined with the lofty sentiments of which I 
 have just given an idea a passionate fondness for 
 money ; and this was our salvation." 
 
 XIV. 
 A PRISON SCENE. 
 
 PASQUIER and his wife were confined for some 
 days in a house in Paris before they were sent 
 to the prison of Saint-Lazare ; this was done 
 with a view of abstracting from them all their 
 remaining money ; and official avarice saved their 
 lives. 
 
 "Had I been imprisoned there two days 
 earlier, I might possibly have been taken away 
 in one of those carts which, during those two 
 days, carried over eighty people from the prison to 
 the foot of the scaffold. Every one connected with 
 the Paris Parliament, one of my brothers-in-law, 
 and several of my friends, perished on the day of 
 my entering the prison. Had I arrived earlier, I 
 could not have escaped their fate." 
 
 This is a sufficiently terrible picture, but a 
 sentence that follows is even more terrible as a 
 revelation of how families were swept off by the 
 guillotine. " In this prison," says Pasquier, "were 
 
138 Napoleon. 
 
 still two of my brothers-in-law and a brother, 
 hardly more than a child, but who had, in spite 
 of this, been a prisoner for eight months." Just 
 fancy it a father guillotined, a brother-in-law 
 guillotined, two brothers-in-law standing under 
 the shadow of the scaffold, a brother, likewise, 
 who is still a child ; and Pasquier and his wife 
 threatened with the same fate ! 
 
 More terrible than almost any passage in these 
 Memoirs is the description of a prison personage 
 who played a prominent part in the economy of 
 the gaols. One of the many grounds given for 
 getting rid of obnoxious persons was a professed 
 belief in prison conspiracies. " What added," 
 says Pasquier, " to the horror of this mendacious 
 invention was the means employed for giving 
 practical effect to the principle." Here was the 
 means : 
 
 " In every one of the large prisons were a 
 certain number of scoundrels, apparently detained 
 as prisoners like the others, but who were really 
 there to select and draw up a list of the victims. 
 Several of them had become known as spies, and, 
 incredible as it may seem, their lives were spared 
 by those in the midst of whom they fulfilled their 
 shameful duty. On the contrary, the prisoners 
 treated them gently and paid them court. I had 
 scarcely passed the first wicket, and was following 
 the jailer who was taking me to the room I was 
 to occupy, when I found myself face to face with 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 139 
 
 M. de Montrou, already notorious through a 
 few somewhat scandalous intrigues, and whose 
 adventures have since created such a stir in 
 society. He came close to me, and not pretending 
 to notice me, whispered into my ear the following 
 salutary bit of advice : * While here do not speak 
 a word to anybody whom you do not know 
 thoroughly/ " 
 
 xv. 
 
 A PRISON TERRORIST. 
 
 AND now, here is a type of the creature which 
 such a system produced. The picture is sufficiently 
 appalling; but still more appalling to me is that 
 of the state of terror and humiliation to which the 
 proudest names in France were reduced : 
 
 " On reaching, with Madame Pasquier, the 
 lodging destined for our use, and which had 
 been vacated by the two victims of the previous 
 day, we were soon surrounded by our relations 
 and by a few friends who hastened to offer us 
 all the assistance they could. We were enjoying, 
 as far as one can enjoy anything when in a 
 similar position, these proofs of kindly interest 
 and friendship, when one of my brothers-in-law, 
 who was looking out of the window, exclaimed, 
 'Ah, here is Pepin Degrouttes about to take his 
 daily walk. We must go and show ourselves. 
 Come along with us.' 'Why so?' I queried, 
 whereupon I was told that he was the principal 
 
140 Napoleon. 
 
 one among the rascals whose abominable role I 
 have described. They were designated by the 
 name of ' moutonsf a name consecrated by prison 
 slang. Every afternoon he would thus take a 
 turn in the yard, and it was for him the occasion 
 of passing in review, so to speak, the flock which 
 he was gradually sending to the slaughterhouse. 
 Woe unto him who seemed to hide or to avoid 
 his look ! Such a one was immediately noted, 
 and he could be sure that his turn would come 
 next. Many a gallant man's death became a 
 settled thing because he was a few minutes late 
 in coming down into the yard and passing under 
 the fellow's notice. The surrendering of oneself 
 to his discretion was apparently a way of im- 
 ploring mercy at his hands. We went through 
 the formality, and it constituted a scene which 
 I can never forget. I can still see him, a man 
 four feet seven or eight inches high, hump-backed 
 and twisted form, bandy-legged, and as red-headed 
 as Judas. He was completely surrounded by 
 prisoners, some of whom walked backward in his 
 presence, earnestly soliciting a look from him." 
 
 The fall of Robespierre brought the release of 
 Pasquier as well as others ; and thus his sufferings 
 ended. From this time forward he had a pros- 
 perous career, for he hailed the accession of 
 Napoleon as the end of Anarchy, and soon was 
 enrolled in the ranks of that lucky adventurer's 
 chief officials. 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 141 
 
 XVI. 
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 
 THE extracts I shall now take from Pasquier 
 will mainly refer to Napoleon. It is in this part 
 of the narrative that the faults of these Memoirs 
 come out most prominently. Here was an 
 official, brought into almost daily contact with 
 the most interesting figure in all human history ; 
 and yet he hardly adds anything to our knowledge 
 of Napoleon's temperament or character. Pasquier 
 does certainly give us an excellent account of 
 the official workings of the Napoleonic machine. 
 In all such descriptions there is nothing left 
 unrecorded ; the narrative is lucid, tranquil, and 
 complete. But after all, it is Napoleon we want 
 to hear about Napoleon the man, not Napoleon 
 the Emperor and the official ; and for that 
 information we mostly ask in vain. However, I 
 must do my best to piece together passages from 
 the Memoirs which bear on Pasquier's great 
 master, and see if I can manage to get some 
 addition to our knowledge of that intensely 
 absorbing personality. 
 
 We get a first and rather amusing glimpse 
 of Napoleon at the moment of his return after 
 his victories in Italy. In this picture also we 
 see beside Napoleon a man, his relations to whom 
 form one of the most striking portions of this 
 narrative : 
 
142 Napoleon. 
 
 " The General was presented to the Directoire 
 in the courtyard of the Petit Luxembourg, where 
 an autel de la patrie had been erected. He was 
 introduced to the five directors by the Minister 
 of Foreign Affairs, M. de Talleyrand, who took 
 occasion to deliver a speech wherein, honour- 
 ing in Bonaparte ' his undying love of country 
 and humanity/ he praised 'his contempt of 
 luxuriousness and pomp, this miserable ambition 
 of ordinary souls ! The day was at hand when 
 it would become necessary to entreat him to tear 
 himself away from the quiet peace of his studious 
 retreat.' It was noticed that General Bonaparte 
 hardly partook of any dish at the dinner which 
 followed this ceremony. This abstinence was 
 attributed to his feeling unwell, but I learned 
 since from a confidential aide-de-camp, M. de 
 La Valette, that Bonaparte had considered this 
 precaution necessary in the face of the dangers 
 which he believed threatened his existence. 
 Whether or not his suspicions were based on any 
 foundation, one cannot help recording them, for 
 they must have greatly affected the resolution he 
 was about to take." 
 
 XVII. 
 THE RETURN FROM EGYPT. 
 
 PASQUIER draws a different picture of the state 
 of French feeling towards Napoleon on his 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 143 
 
 return from Egypt from that which is generally 
 accepted. 
 
 " Fate led me one evening to the theatre next to 
 a box occupied by two very pretty women who 
 were unknown to me. During the performance 
 a message was brought to them. I noticed that it 
 caused great and joyous commotion. They left, and 
 I soon afterwards learnt that they were the sisters 
 of Bonaparte, and that he had landed on French 
 soil." 
 
 But Pasquier goes on to declare : " The effect 
 produced on me by the knowledge of this fact, and 
 on the greater number of those who received it 
 simultaneously with me, was in no way prophetic 
 of the consequences which were to follow." For 
 at this period Napoleon was not thought so much 
 of. " The expedition to Egypt, which has since 
 appealed so strongly to the imagination, was 
 then hardly looked upon as anything but a mad 
 undertaking." 
 
 "What had especially struck people in these 
 bulletins was a certain declaration in favour of the 
 Mohammedan creed, the effect of which, though it 
 might be somewhat great in Egypt, had in France 
 only called forth ridicule. I state all this because 
 a number of people, believing, apparently, that 
 they were adding to their hero's greatness, have 
 since sought to represent him as ardently and 
 impatiently expected. I am of opinion that they 
 have not spoken truly, and deceived themselves 
 
144 Napoleon. 
 
 with regard to the effect which they have sought 
 to produce. To my mind, Bonaparte is far greater 
 when he is considered as arriving when no one 
 expects him or dreams of him, when he faces the 
 disadvantages of a return bearing resemblance to 
 a flight, when he triumphs over the prejudices 
 which this return raises against him, and when in 
 the space of a month he lays hand on every form 
 of power. He is far greater, I maintain, when 
 surrounded by all the obstacles he has triumphed 
 over, than when an attempt is made to present him 
 as the cynosure of all eyes, and having but to come 
 forward to be lord of all." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S MOMENT OF FEAR. 
 
 IT was while he was breaking down the Legis- 
 lative Assembly, which stood between him and 
 power, that Napoleon as I have already told 
 displayed one of the few moments of terror in his 
 whole lifetime. Curiously enough, his brother, 
 from the sheer fact of being a Parliamentarian, 
 was strong when the soldier was weak ; and it 
 was the courage of the Parliamentarian that saved 
 the cowardice of the soldier. 
 
 " It is a known fact that on the iQth, at Saint- 
 Cloud, the firmness of General Bonaparte, so 
 often tested on the battle-field, was for a moment 
 shaken by the vociferous yells with which he was 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 145 
 
 greeted by the Conseil des Cinq Cents, in the 
 face of which he deemed it prudent to beat 
 a retreat. His brother Lucien was President 
 of the Council, and the firmness of the Parlia- 
 mentarian was in this instance more stable 
 than that of the warrior. Lucien weathered the 
 storm, and prevented the passing of a decree of 
 outlawry. Bonaparte soon returned, supported by 
 a military escort commanded by Generals Murat 
 and Leclerc. The soldiers had been electrified 
 by a rumour that the life of Bonaparte had 
 been attempted in the Council Chamber. The 
 appearance and the attitude of this faithful 
 armed band quickly cut the Gordian knot. The 
 Chamber was soon evacuated, and many of the 
 members of the Council, anxious to take the 
 shortest road, fled by the windows." 
 
 XIX. 
 TALLEYRAND. 
 
 I HAVE already said that the story of the rela- 
 tions between Napoleon and Talleyrand is one of 
 the most interesting chapters in these Memoirs. 
 Talleyrand, indeed, is sometimes a more prominent 
 figure on M. Pasquier's canvas than Napoleon. 
 It is a pity that M. Pasquier did not give us a 
 full-length portrait of this extraordinary and re- 
 pulsive personality; he gives instead somewhat 
 disconnected glimpses. However, let us take 
 
146 Napoleon. 
 
 M. Pasquier as we find him ; here is his first 
 mention of the great diplomat : 
 
 "This is the place to dwell once more on the 
 strange position of this man, who always seemed to 
 enjoy the greatest confidence, and this at the time 
 when, in reality, he did not inspire any, and did 
 not really obtain it ; who, on his side, appeared 
 animated with the most sincere zeal, when it was 
 impossible for those who had any intercourse with 
 him to have any doubt as to his discontent. I 
 often saw him in those days at the house of one 
 of my relations, a woman of intellect, who, for 
 some months past, had become very intimate with 
 him, and in whose salon he spent many of his 
 evenings ; her social circle was small, and con- 
 sequently no restraint was put upon him. Owing 
 to this kind of intimacy, his actual frame of mind 
 was readily penetrated, and I easily observed that, 
 consumed as he was with a desire for fault-finding, 
 he considered himself but little bound by any 
 engagements, the result of his former deeds and 
 utterances." 
 
 xx. 
 
 TALLEYRAND'S TREACHERY. 
 
 IT was during the negotiations at Erfurt that 
 Napoleon reached the very zenith of his glory 
 and his power. How often must he have looked 
 back on those golden moments ! M. Pasquier 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 147 
 
 willingly recognises all the supreme skill happily 
 displayed at this eventful hour. 
 
 " None of the seductions likely to impress fa- 
 vourably those whom it was necessary he should 
 captivate had been neglected. The members of 
 the Comedie Frangaise had been ordered to 
 Erfurt, where they played alternately comedy 
 and tragedy ; and so for a fortnight this little 
 town enjoyed French plays nearly every night 
 Extravagance and magnificence could hardly go 
 beyond this ; and great was the delight of all 
 those invited to enjoy so unexpected a treat. 
 Napoleon, when giving his orders to Talma, 
 previous to his departure from Paris, had promised 
 him a parterre full of kings, and it will be seen 
 that he had kept his word. He might have added 
 that never would any parterre show itself so well 
 disposed. Among the actresses forming part of 
 the troupe were several pretty women, and if 
 the Court chroniclers are to be believed, their 
 merits did not pass unnoticed. Nay, it has even 
 been stated that one of them had for some little 
 time engaged the attention of the most eminent 
 one of the personages among those whom 
 Napoleon wished to win over to his side. Judging 
 from all appearances, the happy result of his 
 efforts in this respect must have been undoubted, 
 and it can well be supposed that the attractions 
 of Erfurt greatly surpassed those of Tilsit. It 
 was at Erfurt that, during the performance of 
 
 L 2 
 
148 Napoleon. 
 
 (Edife y the Emperor Alexander, by turning 
 towards Napoleon, gave so pointed an application 
 of the line: ' L'amitie d'un grand Jiomme est 
 un present des dieux" On the part of Alexander, 
 this meant not only a complete accord in political 
 ideas, but a worship, and the devotion of the 
 strongest friendship. On his side, Napoleon 
 admirably exercised the art of deriving benefit 
 from such demonstrations. His efforts ever 
 tended towards not abating one jot of his pre- 
 tensions to superiority, and he attained this 
 object by caressing in a delicate manner the 
 self-love of his powerful and august ally. His 
 efforts in this direction were all the more constant 
 for the fact that this superiority could alone 
 explain and render secure the most astounding 
 and most valuable of his triumphs. On no 
 other occasion, perhaps, did the suppleness and 
 craftiness of his Italian spirit shine to more 
 brilliant advantage." 
 
 XXI. 
 HUMILIATION OF GERMANY. 
 
 ONE of the incidents of this time is narrated by 
 Pasquier, and gives a very good idea of the 
 dreadful humiliation to which Germany had been 
 reduced by this successful conqueror. 
 
 " The fete given to Napoleon by the Duke 
 of Saxe-Weimar during the Erfurt conferences 
 cannot be passed over, for it characterises 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 149 
 
 marvellously well the incredible obsequiousness 
 of those on whom the burden of his omnipotence 
 in Germany bore down. This Duke conceived 
 the idea of inviting him to a hunting party on 
 the very battle-field of Jena. The rout of the 
 stags and deer represented that of the Prussians, 
 and hecatombs of denizens of the forest took the 
 place of human victims." 
 
 It is incidents like these that will explain to 
 us the terrible revenge that Germany insisted on 
 taking on France in 1870. 
 
 I return to Talleyrand's part in the con- 
 ference at Erfurt. It throws a very curious 
 light upon that diplomat. Talleyrand's "ardent 
 desire was to attain personal importance," as 
 Pasquier puts it. It will be understood, therefore, 
 how miserable he was when Napoleon declared 
 he would have no intermediary between himself 
 and the Emperor Alexander of Russia, whom, 
 as we have seen, Napoleon had so completely 
 captured at this moment. Talleyrand, however, 
 was equal to the occasion : 
 
 " Chance gave him the opportunity he was 
 seeking. Having gone one day, after Napoleon 
 had retired for the night, to the house of the 
 Princess of Thurn and Taxis, where he intended 
 to spend the rest of the evening, he met there 
 the Emperor Alexander, who had come with 
 the same intention. This chance meeting was a 
 happy one for both of them; the conversation 
 
150 Napoleon. 
 
 of the French courtier could not fail to be most 
 agreeable to the Russian Sovereign. They soon 
 contracted the habit of meeting in the evening, 
 and this habit lasted as long as the conferences. 
 M. de Talleyrand had neglected nothing to con- 
 vince Napoleon of the fact that he was using to 
 his advantage only the facilities afforded to him 
 by so precious a habit." 
 
 Talleyrand, in his Memoirs, states that the 
 use he made of these confidences between himself 
 and Alexander was to betray Napoleon : 
 
 " When Napoleon handed to Alexander the 
 draft of the agreement which he was asking him 
 to sign, it was M. de Talleyrand who pointed 
 out to him the serious objections to it, and drafted 
 for him the memorandum which he (Alexander) 
 handed to Napoleon." 
 
 The explanation of all this, as Pasquier has 
 no hesitation in declaring, was that Talleyrand 
 was in the pay of the Emperor of Austria, and 
 also that he obtained from him, as part of the 
 price of his treason, the rich alliance of his 
 nephew, Edmond de Perigord, and the daughter 
 of the Duchess of Courland. 
 
 XXII. 
 THE TALLEYRAND INTRIGUE. 
 
 WHEN Napoleon embarked upon his Spanish 
 campaigns, Talleyrand began to take means 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 151 
 
 to have his revenge on his master. One of 
 the first signs of the change in Talleyrand's 
 feelings was the close of the almost lifelong 
 struggle between himself and Fouche, Minister of 
 Police. 
 
 "Both men had apparently begun to look at 
 matters from the same stand-point, and losing all 
 confidence in the fortunes of Napoleon, had said 
 to themselves that if he were to disappear from 
 the scene, they would alone be in a position to 
 dispose of the Empire, and that it was consequently 
 necessary that they should determine upon his 
 successor, to their mutual and best advantage." 
 
 And now the confederates were so imprudent 
 as to warn the whole world of their reconciliation : 
 
 " It must either have been that they believed 
 themselves very powerful in their union, or that 
 they felt pretty well secure of the downfall of 
 the Emperor. I can still recall the effect produced 
 at a brilliant evening party given by M. de 
 Talleyrand by the appearance of M. Fouche on 
 the occasion when he entered his former foe's 
 drawing-room for the first time. No one could 
 believe his eyes, and the wonder was far greater 
 when the affectation of harmony was carried to 
 the point of the two men linking arms and 
 together walking from room to room during the 
 whole course of the evening." 
 
 Meantime the relatives and adherents of 
 Napoleon, whom he had left behind in Paris, 
 
152 Napoleon. 
 
 warned him of what was taking place, with the re- 
 sult that he became alarmed, and returned to Paris. 
 " It was, indeed, impossible not to notice that 
 the rapidity with which he generally covered 
 distances had been much greater than was his 
 wont, and that, in spite of the difficulties presented 
 to the traveller. He had been compelled to make 
 several parts of the journey on horseback." 
 
 XXIII. 
 NAPOLEON IN A PASSION. 
 
 WHEN Napoleon came back he allowed his rage 
 to slumber for a few days, but finally it burst, and 
 there came one of the most repulsive scenes in 
 history. The scene took place in presence of 
 nearly all the Ministers and of several high 
 officials, and lasted for over half an hour, during 
 which Napoleon never ceased to violently declaim ; 
 and here are something like the terms of this 
 remarkable address : 
 
 " You are a thief, a coward, a man without 
 honour ; 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 with gifts, and yet there is 
 nothing you would not undertake against me. 
 Thus, for the past ten months, you have been 
 shameless enough, because you supposed, rightly 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 153 
 
 or wrongly, that my affairs in Spain were going 
 astray, to say to all that would listen to you, 
 that you always blamed my undertaking there, 
 whereas it was you yourself who first put it into 
 my head, and who persistently urged it. And that 
 man, that unfortunate (he was thus designating 
 the Due 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." 
 
 M. Pasquier goes on to say: 
 
 "The foregoing is, in an abridged form, the 
 substance of what M. de Talleyrand was com- 
 pelled to listen to during this mortal half-hour, 
 which must have been a frightful one for him if 
 one is to judge of it by the suffering felt at it by 
 those present, none of whom ever subsequently 
 referred to it without shuddering at its re- 
 collection." 
 
 But the most curious part of the transaction, 
 and what struck everybody who was present, 
 was: 
 
 " the seeming indifference of the man who 
 had to listen to all this, and who, for nearly a 
 whole half-hour, endured, without flinching, a 
 torrent of invective for which there is probably 
 
154 Napoleon. 
 
 no precedent among men in such high positions 
 and in such a place." 
 
 And there was even this more remarkable 
 fact : 
 
 "This man, who was thus ignominiously 
 treated, remained at Court, and preserved his 
 rank in the hierarchy of the highest Imperial 
 dignities. Although in less close connection with 
 the Emperor than heretofore, he did not for that 
 reason become completely a stranger to affairs of 
 State, and we are soon to see him called upon 
 once more to give advice to his Sovereign on an 
 occasion of the highest importance." 
 
 One of the most remarkable facts in connection 
 with the whole story is the patience with which 
 Talleyrand waited for his revenge ; but when it 
 came, the revenge was striking. It was Talley- 
 rand's hand more than any other that was ac- 
 countable for the final blow to Napoleon's power. 
 
 XXIV. 
 A CURIOUS BONAPARTE TRAIT. 
 
 PASQUIER confirms Taine's description of the 
 character of Napoleon's family. The same strange 
 self-confidence, the inflexibility of will, ran through 
 them all. 
 
 "The Emperor had four brothers and three 
 sisters. That indomitable stubbornness just 
 referred to had already removed from his con- 
 trolling power two of his brothers. The one 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 155 
 
 known as Lucien, and afterwards as Prince de 
 Canino, a title given to him by the Pope, had a 
 fiery soul. He was ambitious and greedily fond 
 of money. Public affairs had all the more attrac- 
 tion for him in that he had played an important 
 part in them on the i8th Brumaire, and he 
 could lay the flattering unction to himself that his 
 firmness on that day so fraught with peril had 
 greatly contributed to its success. He deserted 
 the Court at the time his brother reached the 
 summit of grandeur, and when he was in a 
 position to promise the highest destinies to all 
 the members of his family. On his becoming 
 a widower, it was impossible to cause him to 
 renounce his matrimonial views with a divorcee, 
 who had been his mistress for some time past, 
 and sooner than yield, he went into a voluntary 
 exile, from which he did not return until after 
 many trials, which finally led him to England, 
 at the time of the misfortunes of 1815. During 
 his stay in Italy, he seemed to make it a point 
 of honour to show his loyalty to the Pontifical 
 Government, whose subject he had become." 
 Joseph had exactly the same temperament : 
 " Joseph, the eldest of the family, had ascended 
 the throne of Spain, after having occupied that of 
 Naples. Witty, voluptuous, effeminate, although 
 courageous, nothing in his incredible fortunes was 
 to him a cause for surprise. I heard him in 
 January, 1814, make the extraordinary claim that 
 
156 Napoleon. 
 
 if his brother had not interfered with his affairs 
 after his second entry into Madrid, he would be 
 still governing Spain. This is explained by 
 another striking trait of the character of the 
 Bonapartes. No sooner had they set their feet 
 on the path leading to Royal honours, than those 
 most intimate with them were never to see them 
 for a single instant belie the seriousness with 
 which they took the highest positions ; they even 
 ended in believing that they had been called to 
 them as a matter of course. They had the 
 instinct of their greatness. Joseph displays at the 
 very outset of the elevation of his brother such 
 impatience to see himself in possession of a rank 
 worthy of him that Napoleon was wont to say 
 laughingly : ' I do believe that Joseph is some- 
 times tempted to think that I have robbed my 
 eldest brother of the inheritance of the King, 
 our father.' " 
 
 XXV. 
 THE FEMALE BONAPARTES. 
 
 AND Napoleon's sisters behaved in a similar 
 way : 
 
 " Of the three sisters the eldest almost reigned 
 in Tuscany under the title of Grand Duchess. She 
 made herself beloved there, and this fortunate 
 province owed to her a gentle treatment denied to 
 all other countries then united with France. She 
 has left a pleasant memory behind her, in spite of 
 
The Estimate of an Official. 157 
 
 the irregularities of her private life, which she did 
 not take sufficient care to conceal. The Princess 
 Pauline, wife of Prince Borghese, was perhaps the 
 most beautiful woman of her time, and she hardly 
 dreamt of giving prominence to any other advan- 
 tage than this one. She had been to Santo 
 Domingo with her first husband, General Leclerc. 
 The sun of the tropics had, they do say, been 
 astonished at the ardour of her dissipation. The 
 fatigue consequent upon such an existence 
 shattered her health, and for a long time she 
 was carried about in a litter. In spite of her 
 poor health, she was none the less beautiful. 
 
 " It remains for me to speak of Caroline, the 
 wife of Murat, and Queen of Naples, who bore 
 a great resemblance to the Emperor. Less 
 beautiful than Pauline, although endowed with 
 more seductive charms, she possessed the art, 
 without being any more scrupulous than her 
 sisters, of showing a greater respect for the 
 proprieties ; besides, all her tastes vanished in 
 presence of her ambition. She had found the 
 Naples crown somewhat too small for her -head, 
 and greatly coveted the Spanish one, but in the 
 end she became resigned to her fate, and wore 
 with good grace that which had fallen to her 
 lot. It may even be said that she did so with 
 no little amount of dignity. She was insane 
 enough to believe that her fortune could withstand 
 the catastrophe which swept away that of Napoleon. 
 
158 Napoleon. 
 
 In that extraordinary race, the most sacred en- 
 gagements, the deepest affections, went for nothing 
 as soon as political combinations Deemed to advise 
 it ; nevertheless, each one of its members possessed 
 in the highest degree the family spirit. Caroline 
 took a hand in bringing about the downfall of her 
 brother, to whom she owed all her grandeur. It is, 
 perhaps, she who dealt the final blow." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 AS NAPOLEON APPEARED TO A RELATIVE* 
 
 LAVALETTE. 
 
 THE next estimate I shall give is that of 
 Lavalette. 
 
 Count Lavalette is the hero of one of the 
 most romantic stories in history. Few particulars 
 are given of that episode in his Memoirs which, 
 nevertheless, have an interest far beyond their 
 merely personal character. Lavalette was a 
 brave soldier, a successful Minister, and intimate 
 servant of Napoleon. But the great interest of 
 this book to me is the picture it gives of the 
 point of view of the average man during the 
 strange events that made up the passionate 
 drama of France from the beginning of the 
 Revolution to the end of the Empire. I don't 
 know how this book would strike a Frenchman ; 
 but to me it reads as an extremely fair one. 
 
 * "Memoirs of Count Lavalette, adjutant and private 
 secretary to Napoleon, and Postmaster-General under the 
 Empire." (London : Gibbings.) 
 
160 Napoleon. 
 
 Events are set forth, it is true, without much 
 glow or inspiration ; but on the other hand, 
 the moderation and simplicity of its tone enable 
 one to see events in their true light, and to 
 understand the feelings which took hold of the 
 minds of most Frenchmen, and made them pass 
 without much difficulty or much remonstrance 
 from one sort of government to another govern- 
 ments so diverse as the old French Monarchy, 
 the wild Revolution, and then the iron despotism 
 of Napoleon. 
 
 ABOUT THE BASTILLE. 
 
 LAVALETTE was the son of a respectable Paris 
 tradesman. He received a good education, was 
 intended for the Church, and had got as far as 
 holy orders and a small position, when the 
 Revolution broke out and upset him, as every- 
 thing else. He was soon a member of the 
 National Guard, and was present at many of 
 the stirring and terrible scenes which opened 
 the Revolution. As will be gathered from what 
 I have already said, he is a cool, unimpassioned 
 observer, had military instinct from his whole 
 temperament; and any description, therefore, which 
 he gives of the doings of the mob in that strange 
 period, is free from any enthusiasm, and rather 
 censorious than otherwise. Thus, when he 
 describes what he saw at the taking of the 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 161 
 
 Bastille, you can clearly perceive that if he had 
 been in command and such a monarch as 
 Napoleon had been on the throne, the history 
 of that event and of the whole world would 
 have been very different. He confirms the 
 impression, which has been got by every close 
 student of the French Revolution, that the old 
 Bastille was formidable and hateful rather for 
 what it represented than what it was : 
 
 "Situated without the precincts of the city, 
 beyond the Porte Saint-Antoine, it was evidently 
 never intended as a check upon the metropolis. 
 It was said the King meant to keep his treasure 
 there, but the interior distribution clearly evinced 
 that it was destined to serve as a State prison. 
 This pretended fortress consisted of five towers, 
 about one hundred and twenty feet high, joined 
 together by strong high walls and surrounded by 
 broad deep ditches. Its entrance was protected 
 by drawbridges, and on July I4th it was com- 
 manded by a governor, and defended by about 
 sixty Swiss veterans ; a few old guns, of small 
 size, were placed on the terraces of the towers. 
 There was nothing very formidable in its appear- 
 ance ; but something like a superstitious terror 
 pervaded the minds of the people, and most 
 marvellous stories were told respecting the 
 Bastille. For many ages the most noble victims 
 of despotism groaned within its mysterious walls. 
 Some prisoners, who had been fortunate enough 
 
 M 
 
1 62 Napoleon. 
 
 to escape from it, had published most terrifying 
 accounts. Those formidable towers, those vigilant 
 sentinels, who suffered no one, even by stealth, 
 to cast a look towards them ; those numerous, 
 ferocious - looking guards, frightful by their 
 appearance, and more frightful still by their 
 deep silence all united to excite terror and 
 anxious curiosity. Nevertheless, the State prison 
 was not dangerous for the people ; it was designed 
 for persons of high birth, or for literary people 
 who ventured to displease the Ministry. But 
 to the wish of satisfying curiosity, was added a 
 noble feeling of pity for the numerous victims 
 supposed to be shut up in the fortress, and the 
 whole population of Paris resolved to make 
 themselves master of the Bastille." 
 
 n. 
 
 THE HANGING OF FOULON. 
 
 LAVALETTE saw the hanging of poor old Foulon. 
 He evidently does not believe that Foulon ever 
 used the phrase which had been attributed to 
 him : " Why don't the people eat grass ? " or, 
 as Lavalette gives it, " Hay was good enough to 
 feed the Paris rabble." Anyhow, the sight of 
 his execution produced a great effect upon 
 Lavalette, and shaped his after career as it 
 did that of so many others. 
 
 " I crossed the Place de la Greve to the 
 Comedie Frangaise; it rained, and there was 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 163 
 
 no tumult anywhere but facing the H6tel de 
 Ville. I was standing on the parapet when I 
 saw raised above the crowd the figure of an 
 old man with gray hair ; it was the unfortunate 
 Foulon being hanged at the lamp-post. I 
 returned home to study my beloved Montesquieu ; 
 and from that moment I began to hate a re- 
 volution in which people were murdered without 
 being heard in their defence/' 
 
 There is something thrilling in this plain, 
 blunt, terse narrative of that awful day. Familiar 
 as the scene is to us all, these few lines seem 
 to me singularly effective above all things, by 
 bringing out the fact, which is to be found in 
 more than one scene in the Revolution, that 
 this epoch-making tragedy passed through so 
 narrow an area of disturbance. " There was no 
 tumult anywhere but facing the Hotel de Ville." 
 By-and-by we shall see other and even more 
 remarkable instances of this peculiar phenomenon 
 of the Revolution. Lavalette, as a National 
 Guard, was also present at the great march of 
 the women to Versailles. His account of that 
 day would gladden the heart of Taine. The 
 Mcenads who headed the procession were 
 " inebriated women, the refuse of humankind." 
 Lavalette's company would have little to do with 
 these creatures; and he was strongly of opinion 
 that the whole manifestation could have been 
 put down if the King had shown some firmness. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 Napoleon. 
 
 in. 
 
 AND finally Lavalette accompanied the monarch 
 in that journey back to Paris, which Carlyle and 
 so many other writers have told us all about. 
 Lavalette's narrative is excellent reading, though 
 coloured by the Imperialist soldier's prejudices. 
 
 "The mob crowded in the marble court, 
 and wandering on the outside of the palace, 
 began to express again their designs with 
 frightful howlings. ( To Paris ! To Paris ! ' were 
 the cries. Their prey was promised them, and 
 then fresh cries ordered the unfortunate family 
 to appear on the balcony. The Queen showed 
 herself, accompanied by her children ; she was 
 forced by threats to send them away. I mixed 
 in the crowd, and beheld for the first time that 
 unfortunate Princess. She was dressed in white ; 
 her head was bare, and adorned with beautiful 
 fair locks. Motionless, and in a modest and 
 noble attitude, she appeared to me like a victim 
 on the block. The enraged populace were 
 not moved at the sight of woe in all its majesty. 
 Imprecations increased, and the unfortunate 
 Princess could not even find a support in the 
 King, for his presence did but augment the 
 fury of the multitude. At last preparations for 
 departure did more towards appeasing them 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 165 
 
 than promises could have done, and by twelve 
 o'clock the frightful procession set off. I hope 
 such a scene will never be witnessed again. I 
 have often asked myself how the metropolis of 
 a nation so celebrated for urbanity and elegance 
 of manners, how the brilliant city of Paris 
 could contain the savage hordes I that day 
 beheld, and who so long reigned over it ! In 
 walking through the streets of Paris, it seems 
 to me, the features even of the lowest and most 
 miserable class of people do not present to the 
 eye anything like ferociousness, or the meanest 
 passions in all their hideous energy. Can those 
 passions alter the features so as to deprive them 
 of all likeness to humanity ? or does the terror 
 inspired by the sight of a guilty wretch give 
 him the semblance of a wild beast? These 
 madmen, dancing in the mire and covered with 
 mud, surrounded the King's coach. The groups 
 that marched foremost carried on long pikes 
 the bloody and dishevelled heads of the Life 
 Guards butchered in the morning. Surely Satan 
 himself first invented the placing of a human 
 head at the end of a lance. The disfigured 
 and pale features, the gory locks, the half-open 
 mouth, the closed eyes, images of death, added 
 to the gestures and salutations the executioners 
 made them perform, in horrible mockery of life, 
 presented the most frightful spectacle rage could 
 have imagined. A troop of women, ugly as 
 
1 66 Napoleon. 
 
 crime itself, swarming like insects, and wearing 
 grenadiers' hairy caps, went continually to and 
 fro, howling barbarous songs, embracing and 
 insulting the Life Guards." 
 
 This is certainly an appalling picture. 
 
 IV. 
 PARIS DURING THE MASSACRE. 
 
 LAVALETTE also saw some of the September 
 massacres. He had succeeded and with no great 
 difficulty in releasing a lady from the prison at 
 the Hotel de la Force ; and then had tried to 
 muster a body of National Guards to prevent the 
 massacre of the rest. His efforts proved vain. 
 His narrative brings out clearly the fact of this, as 
 of other scenes, that a small, resolute, and violent 
 minority are more potent than the mass of the 
 overwhelming majority which opposes them. 
 Lavalette went to " some of the National Guards, 
 whom we looked upon as the most steady," but 
 " notwithstanding my most pressing entreaties I 
 could make no impression upon them." All he 
 could do under the circumstances was to go to the 
 prison of La Force and see what he could do 
 himself. His description of the scene is very 
 remarkable in more respects than one : 
 
 "Before the wicket that leads to the Rue 
 de Ballets, I found about fifty men at most. 
 These were the butchers ; the rest had been 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 167 
 
 drawn there by curiosity, and were perhaps more 
 execrable than the executioners ; for though they 
 dared neither go away nor take part in the horrid 
 deed, still they applauded. I looked forward, and 
 at sight of a heap of bodies still palpitating with 
 life, I uttered a cry of horror. Two men turned 
 round, and, taking me abruptly by the collar, 
 dragged me violently to the street, where they 
 reproached me with imprudence, and then, 
 running away, left me alone in the dark. The 
 horrible spectacle I had witnessed deprived me 
 of all courage; I went home overwhelmed with 
 shame and despair for humanity so execrably 
 injured, and the French character so deplorably 
 disgraced." 
 
 I call this remarkable, because the number of 
 the persons who took part in the massacre is put 
 down at as low a figure as fifty ; all the rest are 
 spectators. But what follows is still stranger 
 confirming the statement which students of the 
 Revolution have often heard that Paris, outside 
 a very restricted area, practically remained pretty 
 much the same during the very worst times of 
 the Revolution : 
 
 "The particulars of the massacre having all 
 been recorded in the memoirs of the time, I need 
 not repeat them here. I was, moreover, no 
 spectator of them. They lasted three days, and 
 I blush while I write it at half a mile from the 
 different prisons nobody would have imagined 
 
1 68 Napoleon. 
 
 that their countrymen were at that moment 
 butchered by hundreds. The shops were open, 
 pleasure was going on in all its animation, and 
 sloth rejoiced in its vacuity. All the vanities 
 and seductions of luxury, voluptuousness, and 
 dissipation, peaceably swayed their sceptre. They 
 feigned an ignorance of cruelties which they had 
 not the courage to oppose." 
 
 v. 
 
 HOW A VILLAGE WAS AFFECTED BY THE OVERTURN. 
 
 IT will have been seen that Lavalette's sympathies 
 were frankly Royalist in the early days of the 
 Revolution, but when the foreign invasion enrolled 
 every young Frenchman of spirit in the army, 
 Lavalette was carried away like the rest, and 
 determined to go to the front. His opinions, 
 however, made even this rather difficult, and he 
 was obliged to seek a volunteer corps. Two 
 other friends, also of suspect opinions, adopted 
 the same tactics; and here is one of the many 
 adventures which befell them on the way it 
 is an extraordinary and vivid description of the 
 kind of things which the great upheaval had 
 made possible : 
 
 " We set off ... for Autun, and we arrived 
 next day at a village, not far from Vermanton, 
 situated amidst woods, and the inhabitants of 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 169 
 
 which got their livelihood by making wooden shoes. 
 Two days before, a bishop and two of his grand - 
 vicars, who were escaping in a post-coach, had been 
 arrested by them. The coach was searched, and 
 some hundred louis-d'or having been found in it, 
 the peasants thought the best way to gain the 
 property would be to kill the real owners. Their 
 new profession being more lucrative than their 
 former one, they resolved to continue it, and in 
 consequence set themselves on the look-out for 
 all travellers. Our sailors' dresses were not very 
 promising, but we carried our heads high 
 our manners seemed haughty, and so a little 
 hunchbacked man, an attorney of the village, 
 guessed we might perhaps help to enrich them. 
 The inhabitants being resolved not to make any 
 more wooden shoes, applauded the hunchback's 
 advice. We were brought to the municipality, 
 where the mob followed us. The attorney placed 
 himself on a large table, and began reading 
 with emphasis in a loud voice all our passports 
 Louis Amedee Auguste d'Aubonne, Andre Louis 
 Leclerc de la Ronde, Marie Chamans de la 
 Valette. Here the rascal added the de, that 
 was not in my passport. On hearing these 
 aristocratic names a murmur began ; all the eyes 
 turned towards us were hostile, and the hunch- 
 back cried out that our knapsacks ought to be 
 examined. The harvest would have been rich. 
 I was the poorest of the set, and I had five- 
 
170 Napoleon. 
 
 and-twenty louis in gold. We looked upon our- 
 selves as lost, when D'Aubonne, whose stature 
 was tall, jumped on the table and began to 
 harangue the assembly. He was clever at making 
 verses, and knew besides at his fingers' ends the 
 whole slang dictionary. He began with a volley 
 of abuse and imprecations that surprised the 
 audience; but he soon raised his style, and 
 repeated the words ' country/ { liberty,' ' sovereignty 
 of the people,' with so much vehemence and such 
 a thundering voice, that the effect was prodigious. 
 He was interrupted by unanimous applause. The 
 giddy-headed young man did not stop there. 
 He imperiously ordered Leclerc de la Ronde to 
 get upon the table. La Ronde was the cleverest 
 mimic I ever saw. He was thirty-five years old, 
 of a grotesque shape, and as dark as a Moor. 
 His eyes were sunk in his head and covered 
 with thick black eyebrows, and his nose and 
 chin immeasurably long. D'Aubonne said to the 
 assembly : ' You'll soon be able to judge whether 
 we are or are not Republicans from Paris.' 
 And turning to his companion he said to him : 
 f Answer to the Republican catechism : What is 
 God ? What are the people ? What is a King ? ' 
 The other, with a contrite air, a nasal voice, and 
 winding himself about like a harlequin, answered : 
 ' God is nature; the people are the poor; a king 
 is a lion, a tiger, an elephant, who tears to pieces, 
 devours, and crushes the poor people to death.' It 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 171 
 
 was not possible to resist this. Astonishment, 
 shouts, enthusiasm, were carried to the highest 
 pitch. The orators were embraced hugged 
 carried in triumph. The honour of lodging us 
 grew a subject of dispute. We were forced to 
 drink, and we were soon as much at a loss how 
 to get away from these brutal wretches, now our 
 friends, as we had been to escape out of their 
 hands while they were our enemies. Luckily, 
 D'Aubonne again found means to draw us out 
 of this scrape. He gravely observed that we 
 had no time to stop, and that our country 
 claimed the tribute of our courage. They let 
 us go at last." 
 
 vi. 
 
 A FIRST VIEW OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 I MAKE a big skip in the life of Lavalette, and 
 bring him to the time when he made the ac- 
 quaintance of Napoleon, with whom he was 
 destined afterwards to be so closely associated. 
 He was introduced to Napoleon when the young 
 General was winning those victories in Italy that 
 first created his fame, and he was immediately 
 appointed an aide-de-camp. This is his account 
 of his first interview with Napoleon : 
 
 " I went to the General-in-Chief, who lodged in 
 the Palazzo Serbelloni. He was giving audience. 
 His saloon was filled with military men of all 
 ranks, and high civil officers. His air was affable, 
 
172 Napoleon. 
 
 but his look so firm and fixed that I turned pale 
 when he addressed himself to me. I faltered out 
 my name, and afterwards my thanks, to which 
 he listened in silence, his eyes fastening on me 
 with an expression of severity that quite discon- 
 certed me. At last, he said, ' Come back at six 
 o'clock, and put on the sash.' That sash, which 
 distinguishes the aides-de-camp of the General-in- 
 Chief, was of white and red silk, and was worn 
 around the left arm." 
 
 VII. 
 NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE. 
 
 THIS was at Milan ; and it was at the moment 
 when Napoleon, still in the early flush of his 
 passion for Josephine, had succeeded in getting 
 her to leave her beloved Paris and follow him 
 to the army. Lavalette describes a curious and 
 characteristic scene : 
 
 "The General-in-Chief was at that time just 
 married. Madame Bonaparte was a charming 
 woman ; and all the anxiety of the command all 
 the trouble of the government of Italy could not 
 prevent her husband from giving himself wholly 
 up to the happiness he enjoyed at home. It was 
 during that short residence at Milan that the 
 young painter Gros, afterwards so celebrated, 
 painted the picture of the General. He represented 
 him on the Bridge of Lodi, at the moment when, 
 with the colours in his hand, he rushed forward 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 1 73 
 
 to induce the troops to follow him. The painter 
 could never obtain a long sitting. Madame 
 Bonaparte used to take her husband upon her 
 lap after breakfast, and hold him fast for a few 
 minutes. I was present at three of these sittings. 
 The age of the newly-married couple, and the 
 painter's enthusiasm for the hero, were sufficient 
 excuses for such familiarity." 
 
 Lavalette was united to Napoleon by family 
 ties, for he married a Beauharnais a relative of 
 the Empress and Napoleon seems to have had 
 great confidence in him. There is not quite as 
 much about Napoleon as one might have expected 
 from such intimacy, and the glimpses of the great 
 General are few and far between. 
 
 VIII. 
 LABOURS AND FATIGUES. 
 
 NAPOLEON sent for Lavalette one evening, after 
 his return to Paris from the disastrous expedition 
 to Russia, and here is what took place : 
 
 " On my arrival he commanded me to come 
 every evening into the bath-room next to his 
 bed-chamber. He then had me called in to him, 
 while he warmed himself undressed before the 
 fire. We talked familiarly together for an hour 
 before he went to bed. The first evening I found 
 him so cast down, so overwhelmed, that I was 
 frightened. I went to see his secretary, who was 
 
174 Napoleon. 
 
 my friend. I communicated to him my fears 
 that his mind, formerly so strong, had begun to 
 sink. 'You need not fear/ he replied; 'he has 
 lost nothing of his energy; but in the evening 
 you see him quite bent down with fatigue. He 
 goes to bed at eleven o'clock, but he is up at 
 three o'clock in the morning, and till night every 
 moment is devoted to business. It is time to 
 put an end to this, for he must sink under it* 
 The principal subject of our conversation was 
 the situation of France. I used to tell him, with 
 a degree of frankness the truth of which alone 
 could make him pardon its rudeness, that France 
 was fatigued to an excess that it was quite 
 impossible to bear much longer the burthen 
 with which she was loaded, and that she would 
 undoubtedly throw off the yoke, and according 
 to custom, seek an alleviation to her sufferings 
 in novelty, her favourite divinity. I said in 
 particular a great deal of the Bourbons, who, I 
 observed, would finally inherit his royal spoil if 
 ever fortune laid him low. The mention of the 
 Bourbons made him thoughtful, and he threw 
 himself on his bed without uttering a word ; but 
 after a few minutes, having approached to know 
 whether I might retire, I saw that he had fallen 
 into a profound sleep." 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 175 
 
 IX. 
 THE RETURN FROM ELBA. 
 
 I PASS on to Lavalette's description of the return 
 of Napoleon from Elba. He was in the Tuileries 
 on the night when Napoleon made his re-entry, 
 and his description is very vivid of that remarkable 
 scene : 
 
 " Five or six hundred officers on half- pay were 
 walking in the extensive courtyard, wishing each 
 other joy at the return of Napoleon. In the 
 apartments the two sisters-in-law of the Emperor, 
 the Queens of Spain and Holland, were waiting 
 for him, deeply affected. Soon after, the ladies 
 of the household and those of the Empress came 
 to join them. The fleurs-de-lis had everywhere 
 superseded the bees. However, on examining the 
 large carpet spread over the floor of the audience- 
 chamber where they sat, one of the ladies perceived 
 that a flower was loose : she took it off, and the 
 bee soon reappeared. Immediately all the ladies 
 set to work, and in less than half an hour, to the 
 great mirth of the company, the carpet again 
 became Imperial. In the meanwhile time passed 
 on ; Paris was calm. Those persons who lived 
 far from the Tuileries did not come near it; 
 everybody remained at home; and indifference 
 seemed to pervade the minds of all. But it was 
 not the same in the country. Officers who arrived 
 
176 Napoleon. 
 
 at Fontainebleau, preceding the Emperor, told us 
 it was extremely difficult to advance on the road. 
 Deep columns of peasants lined it on both sides, 
 or rather made themselves master of it. Their 
 enthusiasm had risen to the highest pitch. It was 
 impossible to say at what hour he would arrive. 
 Indeed, it was desirable that he should not be 
 recognised, for, in the midst of the delirium and 
 confusion, the arm of a murderer might have 
 reached him. He therefore resolved to travel 
 with the Due de Vicence in a common cabriolet, 
 which, at nine o'clock in the evening, stopped 
 before the first entrance near the iron gate of the 
 quay of the Louvre. Scarcely had he alighted 
 when the shout of ' Long live the Emperor ! ' was 
 heard ; a shout so loud that it seemed capable 
 of splitting the arched roofs. It came from the 
 officers on half-pay, pressed, almost stifled in the 
 vestibule, and who filled the staircase up to the 
 top. The Emperor was dressed in his famous 
 gray frock-coat. I went up to him, and the Due 
 de Vicence cried to me, ' For God's sake place 
 yourself before him, that he may get on ! ' He 
 then began to walk upstairs. I went before, 
 walking backwards, at the distance of one pace, 
 looking at him, deeply affected, my eyes bathed 
 with tears, and repeating, in the excess of my joy, 
 4 What ! It is you ! It is you ! It is you, at 
 last ! ' As for him, he walked up slowly with his 
 eyes half closed, his hands extended before him, 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 177 
 
 like a blind man, and expressing his joy only by 
 a smile. When he arrived on the landing-place 
 of the first floor, the ladies wished to come to 
 meet him ; but a crowd of officers from the higher 
 floor leaped before them, and they would have 
 been crushed to death if they had shown less 
 agility. At last the Emperor succeeded in 
 entering his apartments; the doors were shut, 
 not without difficulty, and the crowd dispersed, 
 satisfied at having seen him. Towards eleven 
 o'clock in the evening, I received an order to go 
 to the Tuileries ; I found in the saloon the old 
 Ministers, and in the midst of them the Emperor, 
 talking about the affairs of government with as 
 much ease as if we had gone ten years back. He 
 had just come out of his bath, and had put on 
 his undress regimentals. The subject of the 
 conversation, and the manner in which it was 
 carried on, the presence of the persons who had 
 so long been employed under him, contributed to 
 efface completely from my memory the family 
 of the Bourbons and their reign of nearly a 
 year." 
 
 x. 
 
 A CHANGED FRANCE. 
 
 BUT Napoleon found a different France from that 
 over which he had ruled so long : 
 
 " The eleven months of the King's reign had 
 thrown us back to 1792, and the Emperor soon 
 
 N 
 
178 Napoleon. 
 
 perceived it ; for he no longer found the submission, 
 the deep respect, and the Imperial etiquette he was 
 accustomed to. He used to send for me two or 
 three times a day, to talk with me for hours to- 
 gether. It happened sometimes that the conver- 
 sation languished. One day, after we had walked 
 up and down the room in silence, tired of that 
 fancy, and my business pressing me, I made my 
 obeisance and was going to retire. ' How ! ' said 
 he, surprised, but with a smile ; ' do you then 
 leave me so ? ' I should certainly not have done so 
 a year before ; but I had forgotten my old pace, 
 and I felt that it would be impossible to get into it 
 again. In one of those conversations, the subject 
 of which was the spirit of Liberty that showed 
 itself on all sides with so much energy, he said to 
 me, in a tone of interrogation, ' All this will last 
 two or three years ? ' ' That your Majesty must 
 not believe. It will last for ever.' He was soon 
 convinced of the fact himself, and he more than 
 once acknowledged it. I have even no doubt 
 that if he had vanquished the enemy and restored 
 peace, his power would have been exposed to 
 great danger by civil broils. The Allies made 
 a great mistake in not letting him alone. I 
 do not know what concessions he would have 
 made, but I am well acquainted with all those the 
 nation would have demanded, and I sincerely think 
 he would have been disgusted with reigning, when 
 he must have found himself a constitutional king 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 179 
 
 after the manner of the patriots. Nevertheless, 
 he submitted admirably well to his situation at 
 least in appearance. At no period of his life had 
 I seen him enjoy more unruffled tranquillity." 
 
 XI. 
 
 WATERLOO. 
 
 THERE are some other scenes which I shall pass 
 by until I reach the departure for Waterloo, and 
 the awful moment when Napoleon returned from 
 his last and disastrous battle. The scenes are 
 described tersely, but the fearsome hope of the 
 first, and the awful despair of the second, come 
 out from the cold language with a strange lucidity 
 and impressiveness. Here is what happened in the 
 Champ de Mars : 
 
 " After the celebration of mass, to which, by- 
 the-bye, everybody turned their backs, the Emperor 
 went down and took his place on an amphitheatre 
 in the middle of the Champ de Mars, from whence 
 he was to distribute the eagles to all the cohorts of 
 the departments. This was a beautiful scene, for 
 it was a national one. The situation, besides, was 
 true. The Emperor took care to address a word 
 to each of the corps that received these colours, 
 and that word was flattering and full of enthusiasm. 
 To the department of the Vosges, he said : ' You 
 are my old companions.' To those of the Rhine : 
 ' You have been the first, the most courageous, and 
 
 N 2 
 
180 Napoleon. 
 
 the most unfortunate in our disasters.' To the 
 departments of the Rhone : ' I have been bred 
 amongst you.' To others : ' Your bands were at 
 Rivoli, at Arcola, at Marengo, at Tilsit, at 
 Austerlitz, at the Pyramids/ These magic names 
 filled with deep emotion the hearts of those old 
 warriors, the venerable wrecks of so many vic- 
 tories. ... A few days afterwards the Emperor 
 set off. I left him at midnight. He suffered a 
 great deal from a pain in his breast. He stepped, 
 however, into his coach with a cheerfulness that 
 seemed to show he was conscious of victory." 
 
 And now for the second scene : 
 
 " At last I learned the fatal news of the battle 
 of Waterloo, and the next morning the Emperor 
 arrived. I flew to the Elysee to see him ; he 
 ordered me to his closet, and as soon as he saw me 
 he came to meet me with a frightful epileptic 
 laugh. ' Oh ! my God ! ' he said, raising his eyes to 
 heaven, and walking two or three times up and 
 down the room. This appearance of despair was, 
 however, very short. He soon recovered his cool- 
 ness, and asked me what was going forward at the 
 Chamber of Representatives. I could not attempt 
 to hide that exasperation was there carried to a 
 high degree, and that the majority seemed deter- 
 mined to require his abdication or to pronounce 
 it themselves if he did not send it in willingly. 
 ' How is that ? ' he said. ' If proper measures are 
 not taken, the enemy will be before the gates in 
 
As Napoleon appeared to a Relative. 181 
 
 eight days. Alas ! ' he added, ' I have accustomed 
 them to such victories, that they know not how to 
 bear one day's misfortune. What will become of 
 poor France ? I have done all I could for her. 5 
 Then he heaved a deep sigh." 
 
 Lavalette saw Napoleon at Malmaison, but 
 there is little of interest in what he says except 
 that he confirms the testimony of other witnesses 
 as to the completeness of Napoleon's collapse after 
 the crushing defeat of Waterloo. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 NAPOLEON, AS HE APPEARED TO A SOLDIER.* 
 
 LET us now see how Napoleon impressed a mere 
 soldier Marbot. He saw Napoleon Bonaparte in 
 the midst of his greatest battles, at almost the 
 most critical moments of his career, and was 
 brought into the closest and most intimate contact 
 with him. There are abundant stories of Napoleon 
 throughout his volumes, and Baron Marbot can 
 tell a story often with a great deal of point. And 
 yet the impression of Napoleon is a blurred one. 
 Did you ever read the description of Scobeleff 
 after the failure of the great assault on Plevna, 
 which was written by MacGahan that brilliant 
 journalist whom cruel death untimely destroyed ? 
 I recall the passage from memory after some 
 fifteen years ; I can still remember that terrible 
 portrait of war, with Scobeleff, his face stained 
 with blood and powder, his sword twisted, des- 
 
 * " The Memoirs of Baron de Marbot." Translated by 
 Arthur John Butler. Two Vols. (London : Longmans.) 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 183 
 
 peration and fury in his bloodshot eyes ; and 
 then later on ScobelefF washed, scented, dressed 
 like a dandy ; and then a third picture ScobelefF 
 waking up in his sleep to weep bitter tears over 
 the deaths of the brave fellows he had led in 
 thousands to destruction. There was a picture 
 that stands out in the memory for ever, and that 
 reveals war in a flash, as a black sky shows its 
 battlements and turrets, its banks and seas of cloud 
 when lightning bursts forth and opens up its dark- 
 ness. There is no such passage in all Marbot. 
 There are scenes, some of them very vividly de- 
 scribed ; and there are plenty of good stories ; but 
 somehow or other inspiration is wanting, and you do 
 not feel that you have got inside Napoleon one bit 
 more than you have done before. And yet I can 
 understand the extraordinary popularity which the 
 book has attained. If Marbot fails with Napoleon, 
 he is more successful with his marshals, and you 
 get some very clear and correct notions of what 
 some of them were like. 
 
 The book, too, is wonderfully effective as a 
 description of what war is like in the details as 
 distinguished from general results and plans. The 
 author is so candid and so simple that you are 
 able to live his life with him from day to day. He 
 is distinctly egotistic, though there is an utter ab- 
 sence of braggadocio ; and he is utterly frank in 
 taking more interest in his own affairs and adven- 
 tures than in anything or anybody else. The 
 
184 Napoleon. 
 
 result is that you often, through this description 
 of individual experiences, get an extraordinarily 
 clear idea of a movement, a great episode, or a 
 decisive battle. I share also in the pleasant 
 impression the book has universally made as to 
 the personality of the author. His honesty, 
 bravery, and good faith shine out in every page 
 of the book : and it can be easily understood why 
 Marbot though he served under the Bourbons 
 was dear enough to Napoleon to be especially 
 mentioned in his last will, and to get a small 
 legacy all to himself. 
 
 GLIMPSES OF THE TERROR. 
 
 I DO not purpose to devote much of my space to 
 the author. His career has an interest of its own ; 
 but the chief interest of the book is his descriptions 
 of the men bigger than himself with whom he was 
 brought in contact. Suffice it to say that he was 
 the son of a distinguished French general. He 
 was born in 1782, and in his childhood he had 
 an opportunity of getting some glimpses of the 
 Reign of Terror under the men of the Convention. 
 In 1793, when eleven years of age, he and his 
 father made a stoppage at Cressensac on their way 
 to Toulouse. He goes on to say : 
 
 " While we were halting here I saw a sight that 
 I had never seen before. A marching column of 
 gendarmes, National Guards, and volunteers entered 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 185 
 
 the little town, their band playing. I thought it 
 grand, but could not understand why they should 
 have in the middle of them a dozen carriages full 
 of old gentlemen, ladies, and children, all looking 
 very sad. My father was furious at the sight. 
 He drew back from the window, and as he strode 
 up and down the room with his aide-de-camp I 
 heard him exclaim : ' Those scoundrels of the 
 Convention have spoilt the Revolution, which 
 might have been so splendid ! There is another 
 batch of innocent people being taken off to prison 
 because they are of good family, or have relations 
 who have gone abroad ! It is terrible ! ' I under- 
 stood him perfectly, and like him, I vowed hatred 
 to the party of terror who spoilt the Revolution of 
 1789. I may be asked, why, then, did my father 
 continue to serve a Government for which he had 
 no esteem ? Because he held that to repel the 
 enemy from French territory was under all circum- 
 stances honourable, and in no way pledged a 
 soldier to approval of the atrocities committed 
 by the Convention in its internal administration. 
 
 " What my father had said awakened my lively 
 interest in the persons whom the carriages contained. 
 I found out that they were noble families who had 
 been that morning arrested in their houses, and 
 were being carried to prison at Souilhac. I was 
 wondering how these old men, women, and 
 children, could be dangerous to the country, when 
 I heard one of the children ask for food. A lady 
 
1 86 Napoleon. 
 
 begged a National Guard to let her get out to buy 
 provisions ; he refused harshly. The lady then held 
 out an assignat, and asked him to be so kind as to 
 get her a loaf ; to which he replied : ' Do you 
 think I am one of your old lackeys ? ' His 
 brutality disgusted me ; and having noticed that 
 our servant Spire had placed in the pockets of the 
 carriage sundry rolls, each lined with a sausage, I took 
 two of them, and approaching the carriage where the 
 children were, I threw these in when the guard's 
 back was turned. Mother and children made 
 such expressive signs of gratitude that I decided 
 to victual all the prisoners, and accordingly took 
 them all the stores that Spire had packed for the 
 nourishment of four persons during the forty-eight 
 hours which it would take us to reach Toulouse. 
 We started without any suspicion on his part of 
 the way in which I had disposed of them. The 
 children kissed their hands to me, the parents 
 bowed, and we set off. We had not gone a 
 hundred yards, when my father, who, in his haste 
 to escape from a sight which distressed him, had 
 not taken a meal at the inn, felt hungry and asked 
 for the provisions. Spire mentioned the pockets 
 in which he had placed them. My father and 
 M. Gault rummaged the whole carriage, and found 
 nothing. My father pitched into Spire ; Spire 
 from the coach-box swore by all the fiends that he 
 had victualled the carriage for two days. I was 
 rather in a quandary ; however, not liking to let 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 187 
 
 poor Spire be scolded any more, I confessed 
 what I had done, fully expecting a slight reproof 
 for having acted on my own authority. But 
 my father only kissed me, and long afterwards 
 he used to delight to speak of my conduct on 
 that occasion." 
 
 IT. 
 THE REVOLUTION IN THE SCHOOL. 
 
 YOUNG Marbot was sent to school at the College 
 of Soreze. It was a military school taught by 
 Benedictine monks. Owing to the popularity of 
 the Benedictines and the prudence of Dom Ferlus, 
 the principal, the school was spared by the revolu- 
 tionaries. And now, here is an interesting glimpse 
 of what a school was like in the days when the 
 Republic reigned : 
 
 " The monks wore lay clothes, and were 
 addressed as ' citizen ' ; but otherwise no change of 
 any importance had taken place in the routine of 
 the school. Of course it could not but show some 
 traces of the feverish agitation which prevailed 
 outside. The walls were covered with Republican 
 ' texts/ We were forbidden to use the term 
 ' monsieur/ When we went to the refectory, or 
 for a walk, we sang the ' Marseillaise,' or other 
 Republican hymns. The exploits of our armies 
 formed the chief subject of conversation ; and 
 some of the elder boys enrolled themselves among 
 the volunteers. We learnt drill, riding, fortifka- 
 
J 88 Napoleon. 
 
 tion, etc. This military atmosphere tended to 
 make the manners of the pupils somewhat free- 
 and-easy ; and as for dress, thick boots, only 
 cleaned on the tenth day, gray socks, brown coat 
 and trousers, shirts tattered and ink-stained, no 
 necktie or cap, untidy hair, hands worthy of a 
 charcoal-burner, gave them a rough appearance 
 enough. ... As I have said, when I entered the 
 college at the end of 1793, the sanguinary rule of 
 the Convention was at its heaviest. Commissioners 
 were travelling the provinces, and nearly all those 
 who had any influence in the South came to visit 
 the establishment of Soreze. Citizen Ferlus had 
 a knack of his own for persuading them that it 
 was their duty to support an institution which was 
 training, in great numbers, young people who were 
 the hope of the country. Thus he got all that 
 he wanted out of them. Very often they allowed 
 him to have large quantities of faggots which 
 were destined for the supply of the armies, on 
 the plea that we formed part of the army, and 
 were its nursery. 
 
 " When these representatives arrived they 
 were received like Sovereigns ; the pupils put on 
 their military uniforms ; the battalion was drilled 
 in their presence ; sentries were placed at every 
 door, as in a garrison town ; we acted pieces 
 inspired by the purest patriotism ; we sang 
 national hymns. When they inspected the 
 classes, especially the history classes, an oppor- 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 189 
 
 tunity was always found of introducing some 
 dissertation on the excellence of Republican 
 government, and the patriotic virtues which 
 result from it. I remember in this connection 
 that the Deputy Chabot, who had been a Capuchin, 
 was questioning me one day on Roman history. 
 He asked me what I thought of Coriolanus, who, 
 when his fellow-citizens, forgetful of his old 
 services, had offended him, took refuge with the 
 Volsci, the Romans' sworn enemies. Dom Ferlus 
 and the masters were in terror lest I should 
 approve the Roman's conduct ; but I said that 
 a good citizen should never bear arms against 
 his country, nor dream of revenging himself on 
 her, however just grounds he might have for 
 discontent. The representative was so pleased 
 with my answer that he embraced me, and 
 complimented the head of the college and his 
 assistants on the good principles which they 
 instilled into their pupils." 
 
 in. 
 
 FIRST SIGHT OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 MARBOT was destined to make the acquaintance 
 at an early age of the mighty genius who was to 
 model his whole career and to shape the history 
 of all mankind. His father received a command 
 in Italy, and on his way there stopped at Lyons. 
 He was surprised to find the city en fcte t and was 
 
Napoleon. 
 
 informed that Napoleon had arrived. Napoleon 
 was supposed, at the time, to be in Egypt ; as a 
 matter of fact he was rushing to Paris in response 
 to a summons from the Abbe Sieyes. The sights 
 and scenes which he beheld at this period produced 
 a lasting effect on Marbot, as they did on the 
 mind of Daniel O'Connell, and made Marbot as 
 they made O'Connell a confirmed enemy of 
 revolutionary government. Marbot's description 
 will, perhaps, enable one, even in the present day, 
 to understand the sickness, the revolt, and the 
 reaction which destroyed the Republic, and 
 brought Napoleon and the Empire. The scene, 
 which I am about to quote, is exquisite. It shows 
 the father of Marbot meeting the man who was 
 then but a brother-officer with that mixture of 
 courtesy and distrust in which men all treat each 
 other when from equality, the one is just rising to 
 the higher position : 
 
 " The houses were all illuminated and beflagged ; 
 fireworks were being let off; our carriage could 
 hardly make its way through the crowd. People 
 were dancing in the open spaces, and the air 
 rang with cries of ' Hurrah for Bonaparte ! he 
 will save the country ! ' This evidence was 
 irresistible ; we had to admit that Bonaparte was 
 in Lyons. My father said, ' Of course I thought 
 they would bring him, but I never suspected it 
 would be so soon; they have played their game 
 well. We shall see great events come to pass. 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 191 
 
 Now I am sure that I was right in getting away 
 from Paris ; with the army I shall be able to serve 
 my country without being mixed up in a coup 
 d'etat. It may be as necessary as it seems, but 
 I dislike it altogether.' With that he fell into 
 deep thought, lasting through the tedious interval 
 required to make our way through the crowd, 
 which grew thicker at every step, and reach our 
 hotel. 
 
 " Arrived there, we found it hung with lanterns 
 and guarded by a battalion of grenadiers. They 
 had given General Bonaparte the apartments 
 ordered a week before for my father. Quick- 
 tempered though he was, he said nothing, and 
 when the landlord made somewhat confused 
 apologies to the effect that he had been compelled 
 to obey the orders of the Town Council, my father 
 made no answer. On hearing that a lodging had 
 been taken for us in a good hotel of the second 
 class kept by a relation of the landlord's, my 
 father confined himself to bidding M. Gault order 
 the postilions to drive there. When we got there 
 we found our courier ; he was an excitable man, 
 and being well-warmed by the numerous drams 
 which he had taken at every halting-place on his 
 long journey, had kicked up the devil's own row 
 on learning, when he preceded us at the first 
 hotel, that the apartments engaged for his master, 
 had been given to General Bonaparte. The 
 aides-de-camp, hearing this fearful uproar and 
 
192 Napoleon. 
 
 learning the cause of it, went to let their chief 
 know that General Marbot had been thrown over 
 for him. At the same moment Bonaparte himself, 
 through the open window, perceived my father's 
 two carnages standing before the door. Up to 
 then he had known nothing of his landlord's 
 shabby behaviour towards my father, and seeing 
 that General Marbot, recently Commandant of 
 Paris, and at that moment at the head of a 
 division of the army in Italy, was too important 
 a man for any off-hand treatment, and that, more- 
 over, he himself was returning with the intention 
 of being on a good footing with everybody, he 
 ordered one of his officers to go down at once 
 and offer General Marbot to come and share his 
 lodging with him in soldier fashion. But the 
 carriages went on before the aide-de-camp could 
 speak to my father ; so Bonaparte started at once 
 on foot in order to come and express his regret 
 in person. The cheers of the crowd which 
 followed him as he drew near our hotel might 
 have given us notice, but we had heard so much 
 cheering since we entered the town that it 
 occurred to none of us to look out into the street. 
 We were all in the sitting-room, and my father 
 was pacing up and down plunged in meditation, 
 when suddenly a waiter, throwing open both 
 folding-doors, announced General Bonaparte. 
 
 " On entering he ran up to my father and 
 embraced him ; my father received him courteously 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 193 
 
 but coldly. They were old acquaintances, and 
 between persons of their rank a few words were 
 sufficient to explain matters with regard to the 
 lodging. They had much else to talk of, so they 
 went alone into the bedroom, where they conferred 
 together for more than an hour. 
 
 "General Bonaparte and my father returned 
 into the sitting-room, and introduced to each 
 other the members of their respective staffs. 
 Lannes and Murat were old acquaintances of my 
 father's, and he received them very cordially. He 
 was somewhat cold towards Berthier, whom he 
 had seen in old days at Marseilles when he was 
 in the body-guard and Berthier an engineer. 
 General Bonaparte asked me very courteously for 
 news of my mother, and complimented me in a 
 kind manner on having taken up the military 
 career so young. Then gently pinching my ear 
 the flattering caress which he always employed 
 with persons with whom he was pleased he said, 
 addressing my father : ( He will be a second 
 General Marbot some day.' His forecast has been 
 verified, though at that time I had little hope of 
 it. All the same, his words made me feel proud 
 all over it doesn't take much to awaken the 
 pride of a child. 
 
 " The visit came to an end, and my father 
 gave no indication of what had passed between 
 General Bonaparte and himself; but I learnt 
 
 o 
 
194 Napoleon. 
 
 later on that Bonaparte, without actually be- 
 traying his schemes, had endeavoured by the 
 most adroit cajoleries to enlist my father on 
 his side. My father, however, steadily evaded 
 the question. 
 
 " So shocked was he at the sight of the people 
 of Lyons running to meet Bonaparte, as if he 
 were already Sovereign of France, that he ex- 
 pressed a wish to get away next morning at 
 daybreak ; but his carriages required repair, and 
 he was forced to stay an entire day at Lyons. 
 I took the opportunity of getting a new forage 
 cap made, and in my delight at this purchase 
 I paid no sort of heed to the political conversa- 
 tion which I heard all about me, nor, to tell the 
 truth, did I understand much of it. My father 
 went to return General Bonaparte's visit. They 
 walked for a long time alone in the little garden 
 of the hotel, while their staffs kept at a respect- 
 ful distance. We saw them at one time 
 vigorously gesticulating, at another talking more 
 calmly ; presently Bonaparte, coming close to 
 my father with a coaxing air, took his arm in 
 a friendly fashion. His motive probably was 
 that the authorities, who were in the courtyard, 
 and the many curious spectators who were 
 crowding the neighbouring windows, might say 
 that General Marbot assented to General 
 Bonaparte's plans. For this clever man never 
 overlooked any means of reaching his end; 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 195 
 
 some people he gained, and wished to have it 
 believed that he had also won to his side those 
 whose sense of duty led them to resist him. 
 Herein his success was wonderful. 
 
 "My father came out from this second con- 
 versation even more thoughtful than from the 
 first, and on entering the hotel he gave orders 
 that we should proceed on the following day. 
 But General Bonaparte was going to make a 
 visit of inspection of the points in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the town suitable for fortification, 
 and all the post-horses had been engaged for 
 him. For the moment I thought that my father 
 would be angry, but he confined himself to 
 saying : ' There's the beginning of omnipotence.' " 
 
 IV. 
 NAPOLEON OFTEN DECEIVED. 
 
 THE next passage I will quote will show how 
 attentive Napoleon was to details, and yet how, 
 in spite of all his precautions, he was deceived. 
 The very terror which he inspired was often the 
 cause of his being kept in ignorance : 
 
 " The Emperor used as a rule to treat his 
 officers with kindness, but there was one point 
 on which he was, perhaps, over severe. He 
 held the colonels responsible for maintaining a 
 full complement of men in the ranks of their 
 regiments, and as that is precisely what is* most 
 
 O 2 
 
196 Napoleon. 
 
 difficult to achieve on a campaign, it was just 
 on this point that the Emperor was most often 
 deceived. The corps commanders were so afraid 
 of displeasing him, that they exposed themselves 
 to the risk of being set to fight a number of 
 enemies out of proportion to the strength of 
 their troops, rather than admit that illness, 
 fatigue, and the necessity of procuring food 
 had compelled many of the soldiers to fall to 
 the rear. Thus Napoleon, for all his power, 
 never knew accurately the number of combatants 
 which he had at his disposal on the day of 
 battle. Now it befell that, while we were staying 
 at Brunn, the Emperor, on one of the rounds 
 which he was incessantly making to visit the 
 positions of the different divisions, noticed the 
 mounted chasseurs of his guard marching to 
 take up new lines. He was particularly fond 
 of this regiment, the nucleus of which was formed 
 by his Guides of Italy and Egypt. His trained 
 eye could judge very correctly the strength of 
 a column, and finding this one very short of 
 its number, he took a little note-book from his 
 pocket, and, after consulting it, sent for General 
 Morland, colonel of the mounted chasseurs of 
 the guard, and said to him in a severe tone: 
 ' The strength of your regiment is entered on 
 my notes at twelve hundred combatants, and 
 although you have not yet been engaged with 
 the enemy, you have not more than eight hundred 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 197 
 
 troopers there. What has become of the rest ? ' 
 General Morland, at fighting an excellent and 
 very brave officer, but not gifted with the faculty 
 of ready reply, was taken aback, and answered, 
 in his Alsatian French, that only a very small 
 number of men were missing. The Emperor 
 maintained that there were close upon four 
 hundred short, and to clear the matter up he 
 determined to have them counted on the spot; 
 but knowing that Morland was much liked by 
 his staff, and being afraid of what their good 
 nature might do, he thought that it would be 
 safer if he took an officer who belonged neither 
 to his household nor to the guard, and, catching 
 sight of me, he ordered me to count the chasseurs, 
 and to come and report their number to him in 
 person. Having said this, he galloped off. I 
 began my operation, which was all the more 
 easy that the troopers were marching at a walk 
 and in fours." 
 
 It is a proof of the wonderful accuracy of 
 Napoleon's eye that his estimate on this occasion 
 turned out to be correct almost to a unit. But 
 Marbot, unable to withstand the appeal of the 
 commander, backed up by that of the surgeon 
 who had stood beside his father's death-bed, 
 declared to the Emperor that they were only 
 eighty instead of four hundred short. Marbot 
 delayed his report until evening, fearing that if 
 he told his lie to the Emperor during the day, 
 
198 Napoleon. 
 
 and while he was on horseback, he would go back 
 to the chasseurs and himself count the regiment. 
 When nightfall came Marbot approached the Im- 
 perial head-quarters : 
 
 " I was taken in, and found him lying at full 
 length on an immense map spread on the floor. 
 As soon as he saw me he called out, ' Well, 
 Marbot, how many mounted chasseurs are there 
 present in my guard ? Are there twelve hundred 
 of them, as Morland declares ? ' ' No, sir, I only 
 counted eleven hundred and twenty, that is to say, 
 eighty short.' ' I was quite sure that there were a 
 great many missing/ The tone in which the 
 Emperor pronounced these last words proved that 
 he expected a much larger deficit; and, indeed, if 
 there had been only eighty men missing in a 
 regiment of twelve hundred which has just 
 marched five hundred leagues in winter, sleeping 
 almost every night in the open air, it would have 
 been very little. So when the Emperor, on his 
 way to dinner, crossed the room where the 
 commanders of the guard were assembled, he 
 merely said to Morland, * You see now you've got 
 eighty chasseurs missing; it is nearly a squadron. 
 With eighty of these fellows one might stop a 
 Russian regiment. You must keep a tight hand 
 to stop the men from falling out.' Then passing 
 on to the commander of the foot grenadiers, whose 
 effective strength had also been much weakened, 
 Napoleon reprimanded him severely. Morland, 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 199 
 
 deeming himself very fortunate in getting off 
 with a few remarks, came up to me as soon as 
 the Emperor was at table, and thanked me warmly, 
 telling me that some thirty chasseurs had just 
 rejoined, and that a messenger arriving from Vienna 
 had fallen in with more than a hundred between 
 Znaym and Brunn and a good many more this 
 side of Hollabrunn, so that he was certain that 
 within forty-eight hours the regiment would have 
 recovered most of its losses. I was quite as 
 anxious for it as he, for I understood the difficulty 
 in which I had been placed by my excess of 
 gratitude towards Fournier. Such was my dread 
 of the just wrath of the Emperor, whose con- 
 fidence I had so gravely abused, that I could not 
 sleep all night. 
 
 " My perplexity was still greater the next day, 
 when Napoleon, during his customary visit to the 
 troops, went towards the bivouac of the chasseurs, 
 for a mere question addressed to an officer might 
 have revealed everything. I was, therefore, giving 
 myself up for lost, when I heard the bands in the 
 Russian encampment on the heights of Pratzen, 
 half a league from our outposts ; therefore, riding 
 towards the head of the numerous staff accom- 
 panying the Emperor, among whom I was, I got 
 as near to him as I could and said in a loud voice, 
 ' There must surely be some movement going on 
 in the enemy's camp, for there is their band playing 
 marches.' The Emperor heard my remark, abruptly 
 
2OO Napoleon. 
 
 quitted the path leading to the guard's bivouac, and 
 went towards Pratzen to observe what was going 
 on in the enemy's advance guard. He remained 
 a long time watching, and at the approach of night 
 he returned to Brunn without going to see his 
 chasseurs. Thus I remained several days in 
 mortal anxiety, although I heard of the successive 
 return of sundry detachments. Finally, the battle 
 being at hand, and the Emperor being very busy, 
 the idea of making the verification which I had so 
 much dreaded passed out of his thoughts, but I 
 had had a good lesson. So when I became colonel 
 and the Emperor questioned me on the number of 
 combatants present in the squadrons of my regiment, 
 I always told the exact truth." 
 
 v. 
 NAPOLEON'S DIPLOMATIC METHODS. 
 
 MARBOT, having told how Napoleon could be 
 deceived, proceeds to give an instructive instance 
 of how Napoleon could deceive. The scene, 
 which is about to be described, took place at 
 the critical moment when the King of Prussia 
 was still wavering between peace and war 
 between joining in the coalition against Napoleon 
 or remaining neutral. To get some idea of what 
 Napoleon was doing, the King sent Herr von 
 Haugwitz on a diplomatic mission invented for 
 the occasion. It was just after the battle of 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 201 
 
 Bregenz, in which the army of Jellachich had 
 been beaten and captured ; and Napoleon's 
 purpose was to get information of this decisive 
 victory to the King of Prussia as soon as possible. 
 Here was the strategy employed : 
 
 " Duroc, the marshal of the household, after 
 giving us notice of what we were expected to 
 do, had all the Austrian colours which Massy 
 and I had brought from Bregenz, replaced 
 privately in the quarters which we were occupy- 
 ing. Some hours afterwards, when the Emperor 
 was talking in his study with Herr von Haugwitz, 
 we repeated the ceremony of presentation in 
 precisely the same manner as the first time. 
 The Emperor, on hearing music in the court of 
 his house, feigned astonishment, and went to the 
 window, followed by the ambassador. Seeing 
 the trophies borne by the sergeants, he called 
 the aide-de-camp on duty, and asked what it 
 all meant. The answer was that there were 
 two aides-de-camp of Marshal Augereau, who 
 were coming to bring the Emperor the colours 
 of Jellachich's Austrian army which had been 
 captured at Bregenz. We were ordered to enter, 
 and there, without winking, and as if he had 
 never seen us, Napoleon received the letter of 
 Augereau, which had been sealed up, and read 
 it, although he had known the contents for four 
 days. Then he questioned us, making us enter 
 into minutest details. Duroc had cautioned us 
 
2O2 Napoleon. 
 
 to speak loud, because the Prussian ambassador 
 was a little deaf. This was unlucky for my 
 comrade and superior, Massy, since he had lost 
 his voice and could hardly speak ; so it was I 
 who had to answer the Emperor, and seeing 
 his plan, I depicted in the most vivid colours 
 the defeat of the Austrians, their dejection, and 
 the enthusiasm of the French troops. Then, 
 presenting the trophies one after another, I 
 named all the regiments to which they had 
 belonged, laying especial stress upon two, the 
 capture of which was likely to produce the 
 greatest effect upon the Prussian ambassador. 
 ' Here/ said I, ' are the colours of the Emperor 
 of Austria's own regiment of infantry; there is 
 the standard of his brother, the Archduke 
 Charles's, Uhlans/ Napoleon's eyes sparkled, and 
 seemed to say, 'Well done, young man.' Then 
 he dismissed us, and as we went out we heard 
 him say to the ambassador, 'You see, Count, 
 my armies are winning at all points ; the Austrian 
 army is annihilated, and very soon the Russian 
 army will be so/ Von Haugwitz appeared 
 greatly upset, and as soon as we were out of 
 the room, Duroc said to me, c This evening the 
 diplomat will write to Berlin to inform his 
 Government of the destruction of Jellachich's 
 army. This will somewhat calm the minds of 
 those who are keen for war with us, and will 
 give the King of Prussia fresh reasons for 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 203 
 
 temporising, which is what the Emperor ardently 
 desires.' 
 
 " The comedy having been played, the 
 Emperor wished to get rid of an awkward 
 witness who might report the positions of his 
 army, and so hinted to the ambassador that to 
 stay between two armies all ready for an engage- 
 ment might be a little unsafe for him. He bade 
 him go to Vienna to M. de Talleyrand, his 
 Minister for Foreign Affairs advice which Herr 
 von Haugwitz followed that same evening. The 
 next day the Emperor said nothing to us about 
 yesterday's performance, but, wishing no doubt 
 to evince his satisfaction at the way in which 
 we had seized his idea, he asked tenderly after 
 Major Massy's cold, and pinched my ear, which 
 was with him a sort of caress." 
 
 VI. 
 AUSTERLITZ. 
 
 ONE of the most vividly-described battles in the 
 whole book is Austerlitz. Even the non-military 
 reader can feel himself carried away by the 
 briskness, vividness, and horror of the narrative. 
 I give one or two extracts : 
 
 " Marshal Soult carried not only the village 
 of Pratzen, but also the vast tableland of that 
 name, which was the culminating point of the 
 -whole country, and consequently the key of the 
 
204 Napoleon. 
 
 battle-field. There, under the Emperor's eyes, the 
 sharpest of the fighting took place, and the 
 Russians were beaten back. But one battalion, 
 the 4th of the line, of which Prince Joseph, 
 Napoleon's brother, was colonel, allowing itself to 
 be carried too far in pursuit of the enemy, was 
 charged and broken up by the Noble Guard and 
 the Grand Duke Constantine's cuirassiers, losing 
 its eagle. Several lines of Russian cavalry quickly 
 advanced to support this momentary success 
 of the guards, but Napoleon hurled against them 
 the Mamelukes, the mounted chasseurs, and the 
 mounted grenadiers of his guard under Marshal 
 Bessieres and General Rapp. The melee was 
 of the most sanguinary kind ; the Russian 
 squadrons were crushed and driven back beyond 
 the village of Austerlitz with immense loss. Our 
 troopers captured many colours and prisoners, 
 among the latter Prince Repnin, commander of 
 the Noble Guard. This regiment, composed of 
 the most brilliant of the young Russian nobility, 
 lost heavily, because the swagger in which they 
 had indulged against the French having come 
 to the ears of our soldiers, these, and above 
 all the mounted grenadiers, attacked them with 
 fury, shouting as they passed their great sabres 
 through their bodies: 'We will give the ladies 
 of St. Petersburg something to cry for ! ' " 
 
 Here one sees the hideous and bestial ferocity 
 which war begets. And then comes a passage 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 205 
 
 in which there is a glimpse of the curious limita- 
 tions which soldiers place on themselves : 
 
 " The painter Gerard, in his picture of the 
 battle of Austerlitz, has taken for his subject the 
 moment when General Rapp, coming wounded 
 out of the fight, and covered with his enemies' 
 blood and his own, is presenting to the Emperor 
 the flags just captured and his prisoner, Prince 
 Repnin. I was present at this imposing spectacle, 
 which the artist has reproduced with wonderful 
 accuracy. All the heads are portraits, even that 
 of the brave chasseur who, making no complaint, 
 though he had been shot through the body, had 
 the courage to come up to the Emperor, and fell 
 stone dead as he presented the standard which he 
 had just taken. Napoleon, wishing to honour his 
 memory, ordered the painter to find a place for 
 him in his composition. In the picture may be 
 seen also a Mameluke, who is carrying in one 
 hand an enemy's flag and holds in the other 
 the bridle of his dying horse. This man, named 
 Mustapha, was well known in the guard for his 
 courage and ferocity. During the charge he had 
 pursued the Grand Duke Constantino, who only 
 got rid of him by a pistol-shot, which severely 
 wounded the Mameluke's horse. Mustapha, 
 grieved at having only a standard to offer to the 
 Emperor, said in his broken French as he pre- 
 sented it : ' Ah ! if me catch Prince Constantine, 
 me cut him head off and bring it to Emperor ! ' 
 
206 Napoleon. 
 
 Napoleon, disgusted, replied : ' Will you hold your 
 tongue, you savage ? ' ' 
 
 And now here is another scene in which, once 
 more, ferocity has the upper hand : 
 
 "The Emperor, whom we left on the plateau of 
 Pratzen, having freed himself from the enemy's 
 right and centre, which were in flight on the other 
 side of Austerlitz, descended from the heights of 
 Pratzen with a force of all arms, including Soult's 
 corps and his guard, and went with all speed 
 towards Telnitz, and took the enemy's columns 
 in rear at the moment when Davoust was attacking 
 in front. At once the heavy masses of Austrians 
 and Russians, packed on the narrow roadways 
 which lead beside the Goldbach brook, finding 
 themselves between two fires, fell into an in- 
 describable confusion. All ranks were mixed up 
 together, and each sought to save himself by flight. 
 Some hurled themselves headlong into the marshes 
 which border the pools, but our infantry followed 
 them there. Others hoped to escape by the road that 
 lies between the two pools ; our cavalry charged 
 them, and the butchery was frightful. Lastly, the 
 greater part of the enemy, chiefly Russians, sought 
 to pass over the ice. It was very thick, and five 
 or six thousand men keeping some kind of order, 
 had reached the middle of the Satschan lake, when 
 Napoleon, calling up the artillery of his guard, gave 
 the order to fire on the ice. It broke at countless 
 points, and a mighty cracking was heard. The 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 207 
 
 water, oozing through the fissures, soon covered 
 the floes, and we saw thousands of Russians, with 
 their horses, guns, and waggons, slowly settle down 
 into the depths. It was a horribly majestic 
 spectacle which I shall never forget. In an instant 
 the surface of the lake was covered with everything 
 that could swim. Men and horses struggled in 
 the water among the floes. Some a very small 
 number succeeded in saving themselves by the 
 help of poles and ropes, which our soldiers reached 
 to them from the shore, but the greater part were 
 drowned." 
 
 VII. 
 THE PATH OF GLORY. 
 
 IN the fight General Morland the commanding 
 officer for whose sake Marbot had lied to the 
 Emperor was killed ; the subsequent fate of his 
 remains gives Marbot the opportunity for telling 
 one of the most sardonic stones in the whole book : 
 " The Emperor, always on the look-out for 
 anything that might kindle the spirit of emulation 
 among the troops, decided that General Morland's 
 body should be placed in the memorial building 
 which he proposed to erect on the Esplanade des 
 Invalides at Paris. The surgeons, having neither 
 the time nor the materials necessary to embalm 
 the general's body on the battle-field, put it into a 
 barrel of rum, which was transported to Paris. But 
 subsequent events having delayed the construction 
 
208 Napoleon. 
 
 of the monument destined for General Morland, 
 the barrel in which he had been placed was still 
 standing in one of the rooms of the School of 
 Medicine when Napoleon lost the Empire in 1814. 
 Not long afterwards the barrel broke, through 
 decay, and people were much surprised to find 
 that the rum had made the general's moustaches 
 grow to such an extraordinary extent that they 
 fell below his waist. The corpse was in perfect 
 preservation, but in order to get possession of it, 
 the family were obliged to bring an action against 
 some scientific man who had made a curiosity of 
 it. Cultivate the love of glory and go and get 
 killed, to let some oaf of a naturalist set you up in 
 his library between a rhinoceros horn and a stuffed 
 crocodile ! " 
 
 VIII. 
 NAPOLEON AND HIS TROOPS. 
 
 THE main interest of these volumes, of course, 
 is their picture of Napoleon ; and, accordingly, 
 I extract by choice the passages which refer to 
 him and help to complete his portrait. Here, for 
 instance, is an example of the manner in which he 
 managed to win the hearts of his soldiers : 
 
 " Our road lay by Aschaffenburg, whence we 
 went on to Wurzburg. There we found the 
 Emperor, who held a march-past of the troops of 
 the 7th corps, amid great enthusiasm. Napoleon, 
 who was in possession of notes about all the 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 209 
 
 regiments, and knew how to use them cleverly so 
 as to flatter the self-esteem of every one, said, when 
 he saw the 44th of the line, ' Of all the corps in 
 my army you are the one in which there are most 
 stripes, so your three battalions count on my line 
 for six.' The soldiers replied with enthusiasm, 
 ' We will prove it before the enemy.' To the 78th 
 Light Infantry, composed mainly of men from 
 Lower Languedoc and the Pyrenees, the Emperor 
 said : * These are the best marchers in the army ; 
 one never sees a man of them fallen out, especially 
 when the enemy has to be met.' Then he added, 
 laughing, ' But to do you justice in full, I must 
 tell you that you are the greatest rowdies and 
 looters in the army.' ' Quite true, quite true ! ' 
 answered the soldiers, every one of whom had 
 a duck, fowl, or goose in his knapsack." 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE RISE OF THE HOUSE OF ROTHSCHILD. 
 
 IN the course of his narrative of war and war's 
 alarms, Marbot stops to tell the well-known story 
 of the rise of the house of Rothschild. When 
 Napoleon had beaten the Prussians, he confiscated 
 the estates of the Elector of Hesse-Cassel as a 
 punishment for his vacillation between the two 
 warring monarchs : 
 
 " The avaricious sovereign had amassed a large 
 treasure by selling his own subjects to the English. 
 
 p 
 
2io Napoleon. 
 
 They were employed to fight the Americans in the 
 War of Independence. Disloyal to his relations, 
 he had offered to ally himself to the French, on 
 condition that the Emperor would give him their 
 states, so nobody regretted him. But his hurried 
 departure was the cause of a remarkable incident 
 which as yet is little known. 
 
 "When forced to leave Cassel in a hurry to 
 take refuge in England, the Elector of Hesse, who 
 was supposed to be the richest man in Europe, 
 being unable to bring away the whole of his 
 treasures, sent for a Frankfort Jew, named 
 Rothschild, an obscure banker of the third rank, 
 known only for the scrupulous practice of his 
 religion. This seems to have decided the Elector 
 to entrust to him 15,000,000 francs in specie. The 
 interest of the money was to be the banker's, and 
 he was only to be bound to return the capital. 
 
 " When the palace of Cassel was occupied by 
 our troops the agents of the French Treasury 
 seized property of great value, especially pictures, 
 but no coined money was found, yet it appeared 
 impossible that in his hasty flight the Elector 
 could have carried away the whole of his immense 
 fortune. Now, since, by what are conventionally 
 called the laws of war, the capital and the interest 
 of securities found in a hostile country belong of 
 right to the conqueror, it became important to 
 know what became of the Cassel treasure. Inquiry 
 showed that before his departure the Elector had 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 211 
 
 passed a whole day with the Jew Rothschild. An 
 Imperial commission visited him and minutely 
 examined his safes and books ; but it was in vain ; 
 no trace of the Elector's deposit could be found. 
 Threats and intimidation had no success until the 
 commission, feeling sure that no personal interest 
 could induce a man so religious as Rothschild to 
 perjure himself, proposed to administer an oath to 
 him. He refused to take it. There was talk of 
 arresting him, but the Emperor, thinking this a 
 useless act of violence, forbade it. Then they had 
 resource to a not very honourable method. Un- 
 able to overcome the banker's resistance, they 
 tried to gain him over by the bait of profit. They 
 proposed to leave him half the treasure if he would 
 give up the other half to the French administration. 
 A receipt for the whole, accompanied by a deed of 
 seizure, would be given him to prove that he had 
 only yielded to force and to prevent any claim from 
 lying against him ; but the Jew's honesty rejected 
 this suggestion also, and his persecutors, tired out, 
 left him in peace. Thus the 15,000,000 francs 
 remained in Rothschild's hands from 1806 till the 
 fall of the Empire in 1814. Then the Elector 
 returned to his states, and the banker returned him 
 his deposit as he had received it You may 
 imagine the sum which a capital of 15,000,000 
 francs would produce in the hands of a Jew 
 banker of Frankfort. From this time dates the 
 opulence of the Rothschilds, who thus owe to 
 
 p 2 
 
2 1 2 Napoleon. 
 
 their ancestor's honesty the high place which they 
 now hold in the finance of all civilised countries." 
 
 NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISE. 
 
 AFTER Napoleon's victory at Friedland, there 
 came, as is known, the interview between him 
 and the Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia 
 at Tilsit. Here took place an historic and charac- 
 teristic scene between Napoleon and the Queen : 
 
 " One day Napoleon went to call on the un- 
 fortunate Queen of Prussia, who was said to be 
 in great grief. He invited her to dinner on the 
 following day, which she accepted, doubtless much 
 against the grain. But at the moment of con- 
 cluding peace, it was very necessary to appease 
 the victor. Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia 
 hated each other cordially. She had insulted him 
 in many proclamations, and he had given it her 
 back in his bulletins. 
 
 " Yet their interview showed no traces of their 
 mutual hatred. Napoleon was respectful and 
 attentive, the Queen gracious and disposed to 
 captivate her former enemy. She had all need 
 to do so, being well aware that the treaty of 
 peace created, under the title of Kingdom of 
 Westphalia, a new state whose territory was to 
 be contributed by electoral Hesse and Prussia. 
 
 "The Queen could resign herself to the loss 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 213 
 
 of several provinces, but she could not make up 
 her mind to part with the strong place of Magde- 
 burg, the retaining of which would be Prussia's 
 safeguard. On his side, Napoleon, who proposed 
 to make his brother Jerome King of Westphalia, 
 wished to add Magdeburg to the new state. It is 
 said that in order to retain this important town, 
 the Queen of Prussia, during dinner, used all the 
 methods of friendliness until Napoleon, to change 
 the conversation, praised a superb rose that the 
 Queen was wearing. The story goes that she 
 said : * Will your Majesty have this rose in ex- 
 change for Magdeburg ? ' Perhaps it would be 
 chivalrous to accept, but the Emperor was too 
 practical a man to let himself be caught by a 
 pretty offer, and it is averred that while praising 
 the beauty of the rose and of the hand which 
 offered it, he did not take the flower. The Queen's 
 eyes filled with tears, but the victor affected not 
 to perceive it. He kept Magdeburg, and escorted 
 the Queen politely to the boat which was to take 
 her across to the other side." 
 
 XI. 
 NAPOLEON WOUNDED. 
 
 THERE is a popular and widespread delusion that 
 Napoleon was never wounded ; indeed, this is 
 taken as one of the many signs and tokens of that 
 demoniacal luck which for a long time marked 
 
214 Napoleon. 
 
 his destiny. Marbot dissipates this, as well as 
 some other illusions. Here is a scene which took 
 place during the attack on Ratisbon : 
 
 "While waiting till everybody was ready, 
 Marshal Lannes had gone back to the Emperor 
 to receive his final orders. As they were chatting, 
 a bullet fired, in all probability, from one of the 
 long-range Tyrolese rifles struck Napoleon on 
 the right ankle. The pain was at first so sharp 
 that the Emperor had to lean upon Lannes, but 
 Dr. Larrey, who quickly arrived, declared that the 
 wound was trifling. If it had been severe enough 
 to require an operation, the event would certainly 
 have been considered a great misfortune for 
 France; yet it might perhaps have spared her 
 many calamities. However, the report that the 
 Emperor had been wounded spread through the 
 army. Officers and men ran up from all sides ; in 
 a moment Napoleon was surrounded by thousands 
 of men, in spite of the fire which the enemy's guns 
 concentrated on the vast group. The Emperor, 
 wishing to withdraw his troops from this useless 
 danger, and to calm the anxiety of the more 
 distant corps, who were getting unsteady in their 
 desire to come and see what was the matter, 
 mounted his horse the instant his wound was 
 dressed, and rode down the front of the whole line 
 amid loud cheers." 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 215 
 
 XII. 
 NAPOLEON AND THE GRENADIER. 
 
 HERE is another scene which gives a good picture 
 of the relations between Napoleon and his soldiers. 
 Marbot is still talking of the events before 
 Ratisbon : 
 
 " It was at this extempore review held in 
 presence of the enemy that Napoleon first granted 
 gratuities to private soldiers, appointing them 
 knights of the Empire and members, at the 
 same time, of the Legion of Honour. The 
 regimental commanders recommended, but the 
 Emperor also allowed soldiers who thought they 
 had claims to come and represent them before 
 him; then he decided upon them by himself. 
 Now it befell that an old grenadier who had 
 made the campaigns of Italy and Egypt, not 
 hearing his name called, came up, and in a calm 
 tone of voice, asked for the Cross. ' But/ said 
 Napoleon, * what have you done to deserve it ? ' 
 ' It was I, sir, who, in the desert of Joppa, when it 
 was so terribly hot, gave you a water-melon.' ' I 
 thank you for it again ; but the gift of the fruit is 
 hardly worth the Cross of the Legion of Honour. 1 
 Then the grenadier, who up till then had been as 
 cool as ice, working himself up into a frenzy, 
 shouted, with the utmost volubility, 'Well, and 
 don't you reckon seven wounds received at the 
 
2i6 Napoleon. 
 
 Bridge of Arcola, at Lodi and Castiglione, at the 
 Pyramids, at Acre, Austerlitz, Friedland ; eleven 
 campaigns in Italy, Egypt, Austria, Prussia, 
 
 Poland " but the Emperor cut him short, 
 
 laughing, and mimicking his excited manner 
 cried : ' There, there, how you work yourself up 
 when you come to the essential point ! That is 
 where you ought to have begun; it is worth 
 much more than your melon. I make you a 
 knight of the Empire, with a pension of 1,200 
 francs. Does that satisfy you ? ' ' But your 
 Majesty, I prefer the Cross.' 'You have both 
 one and the other, since I make you knight.' 
 'Well, I would rather have the Cross.' The 
 worthy grenadier could not be moved from that 
 point, and it took all manner of trouble to make 
 him understand that the title of knight of the 
 Empire carried with it the Legion of Honour. 
 He was not appeased on this point until the 
 Emperor had fastened the decoration on his 
 breast, and he seemed to think a great deal 
 more of this than of his annuity of 1,200 francs. 
 It was by familiarities of this kind that the 
 Emperor made the soldiers adore him, but it 
 was a means that was only available to a 
 commander whom frequent victories had made 
 illustrious ; any other general would have im- 
 paired his reputation by it." 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 217 
 
 XIII. 
 DETECTION OF A SPY. 
 
 THERE is an episode which shows Napoleon's 
 extraordinary readiness and fertility of resource. 
 It occurred just before the great battle of Wagram. 
 The scene is also interesting as showing the 
 curious fluctuations of feeling in Napoleon's 
 character : 
 
 " Knowing that the enemy was expecting 
 him to cross as before, between Aspern and 
 Essling, and that it was important to conceal 
 his plan of turning their position by crossing 
 opposite Enzersdorf, Napoleon had a careful 
 watch kept over all who entered the island by 
 the great bridges connecting it with Ebersdorf. 
 Every one on the island must have learnt the 
 secret towards the end of the time ; but as it 
 seemed certain that none were on it but French 
 soldiers or officers' servants, who were all guarded, 
 no danger was apprehended from inquisitiveness 
 on the enemy's part. This, as it turned out, 
 was a mistake ; for the Archduke had contrived 
 to introduce a spy among us. Just when he 
 was about to give information of the point which 
 we were going to attack, an anonymous letter, 
 written in Hungarian, was brought by a little girl 
 to the Emperor's Mameluke, Roustan, with the 
 warning that it was important and urgent. It 
 
218 Napoleon. 
 
 was at first supposed to be a begging letter ; 
 but the interpreters soon translated it, and 
 informed the Emperor. He came at once to 
 the island, and ordered every soul troops, staffs, 
 commissaries, butchers, bakers, canteen men, even 
 officers' servants to be drawn up on parade. As 
 soon as every one was in the ranks, the Emperor 
 announced that a spy had found his way into 
 the island, hoping to escape notice among 30,000 
 men ; and, now that they were all in their places 
 he ordered every man to look at his neighbour 
 to right and left. In the midst of the dead 
 silence, two soldiers were heard to cry, ' Here is 
 a man we don't know/ He was arrested and 
 examined, and admitted that he had disguised 
 himself in a French uniform taken from men 
 killed at Essling. This wretch had been born 
 at Paris, and appeared very well educated. 
 Having ruined himself at play, he had fled to 
 Austria to escape his creditors, and there had 
 offered himself as spy to the Austrian staff. A small 
 boat used to take him across the Danube at 
 night, landing him a league below Ebersdorf, 
 and fetch him back the next night on a given 
 signal. He had already been frequently on the 
 island, and had accompanied detachments of our 
 troops going to fetch provisions or materials from 
 Ebersdorf. In order to avoid notice, he always 
 went to places where there was a crowd, and 
 worked with the soldiers at the entrenchments. 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 219 
 
 He got his meals at the canteen, passed the night 
 near the camps, and in the morning, armed with 
 a spade as though on his way to join a working 
 party, he would go all over the island and 
 examine the works, lying down among the 
 osiers to make a hurried sketch of them. The 
 next night he would go and make his report to 
 the Austrians, and come back to continue his 
 observations. He was brought before a court- 
 martial and condemned to death; but the bitter 
 regret which he expressed for having served the 
 enemies of France disposed the Emperor to 
 commute the penalty. When, however, the spy 
 proposed to deceive the Archduke by going to 
 make a false report on what he had seen, and 
 coming back to tell the French what the Austrians 
 were doing, the Emperor, disgusted at this new 
 piece of infamy, abandoned him to his fate, and 
 let him be shot." 
 
 XIV. 
 NAPOLEON AS HAROUN-AL-RASCHID. 
 
 AMID the many unpleasant impressions which 
 Taine's tremendous indictment of Napoleon leaves 
 on the mind, none is more odious than that left 
 by Taine's picture of the Emperor in his Court. 
 Rude, boorish, vulgar, inconsiderate to malignity, 
 mischievous to brutality, he is drawn passing from 
 courtier to courtier, and even from lady to lady, 
 with a look that froze, a sneer that wounded, a 
 
22O Napoleon. 
 
 question that was like a poisoned arrow. It is 
 only fair, then, to quote the following passage 
 from Marbot, which, though it does not present 
 Napoleon in a particularly amiable light, yet 
 gives an impression of naivete, good-humour, and 
 affability, not altogether consistent with Taine's 
 lurid and shocking picture. 
 
 Napoleon used to insist that his great officials, 
 to whom he gave magnificent salaries, should 
 entertain largely in order to encourage trade and 
 so keep Paris in good humour. Marescalchi, 
 who as Marbot puts it was ambassador for 
 Napoleon, King of Rome, to Napoleon, Emperor 
 of the French, was one of the most brilliant of 
 these entertainers, and he was especially re- 
 markable for his fancy-dress balls. At these 
 balls Napoleon was a constant visitor. He had 
 just been divorced from Josephine it was the 
 year 1810 but had not yet married Marie 
 Louise : 
 
 " Wearing a plain black domino and common 
 mask, and with Duroc, similarly disguised, on 
 his arm, Napoleon used to mix with the crowd 
 and puzzle the ladies, who were rarely masked. 
 The crowd, it is true, consisted of none but 
 trustworthy persons, because M. Marescalchi 
 always submitted his list to the Minister of 
 Police; and also because the assistant-adjutant- 
 general, Laborde, so well-known for his talents 
 in scenting a conspirator, was at the entrance of 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 22 r 
 
 the rooms, and allowed no one to enter without 
 showing his face and ticket and giving his name. 
 Agents in disguise went about, and a battalion of 
 the guard furnished sentries to every exit. These 
 precautions, however, were so well managed by 
 Duroc that, once in the room, the guests were 
 unconscious of any supervision." 
 
 It was at one of these balls that poor 
 Marbot was almost ruined by an importunate and 
 
 accidental acquaintance. Madame X } the 
 
 widow of an official, thought that her pension was 
 insufficient, and, having made vain application to 
 all the other members of the Imperial family, she 
 resolved finally to get at the Emperor himself. 
 By an oversight she managed to make her way 
 to the masked ball : 
 
 " The ball was on the ground-floor, card-tables 
 being on that above ; when I entered, the 
 quadrilles were going on, and a crowd was gazing 
 at the magnificent costumes. Suddenly, in the 
 midst of the silk, velvet, feathers, and embroideries,, 
 appeared a colossal female figure, clad in plain 
 white calico, with red corset, and bedizened 
 with coloured ribbons in the worst taste. This 
 
 was Madame X , who had found no better 
 
 way of displaying her magnificent hair than 
 dressing as a shepherdess, with a little straw 
 hat over one ear, and two large tresses down to 
 her heels. Her curious get-up, and the strange 
 simplicity of the dress in which she appeared in 
 
222 Napoleon. 
 
 the brilliant assembly, drew all eyes towards her. 
 I had the curiosity to look that way, having 
 
 unluckily taken off my mask. Madame X , 
 
 feeling awkward in the crowd of strangers, came 
 to me, and took my arm without more ado, 
 saying aloud, 'Now I shall have a partner.'" 
 
 xv. 
 
 MARBOT IN A TIGHT PLACE. 
 
 MARBOT managed, however, to make his escape, 
 and then this is what happened : 
 
 " Rid at length of this dreadful incubus, I 
 hastened up to the first floor, where, going through 
 the quiet card-rooms, I went and established 
 myself in a room at the far end, dimly lighted 
 by a shady lamp. No one being there, I took 
 off my mask, and was resting and consuming an 
 excellent ice, rejoicing in my escape, when two 
 masked men, short and stout, in black dominoes, 
 entered the little room. ' Here we shall be out of 
 the crowd/ said one ; then calling me by my name 
 without prefix, he beckoned me to him. I could 
 not see his face, but as I knew all the great 
 dignitaries of the Empire were in the house, I 
 felt sure that a man who could so imperatively 
 summon an officer of my rank must be an 
 important personage. I came forward, and the 
 unknown said in a whisper, ' I am Duroc : the 
 Emperor is with me. He is overcome by the 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 223 
 
 heat, and wishes to rest in this out-of-the-way 
 room ; stay with us, to obviate any suspicion on 
 the part of a chance enterer.' The Emperor sat 
 down in an arm-chair, looking towards a corner 
 of the room. The general and I placed ours 
 back to back with his so as to cover him, facing 
 the door, and began to chat, by the general's 
 wish, as if he were one of my comrades. The 
 Emperor taking off his mask, asked the general 
 for two handkerchiefs, with which he wiped his 
 face and neck; then, tapping me lightly on the 
 shoulder, he begged me (that was his term) to 
 get him a large glass of cold water, and bring 
 it myself. I went at once to the nearest buffet, 
 and filled a glass with iced water ; but as I was 
 about to carry it to the room where Napoleon 
 was, I was accosted by two tall men in Scotch 
 costume, one of whom said in my ear, 'Can 
 Major Marbot answer for the wholesomeness of 
 that water ? ' I thought I could, for I had taken 
 it at random from one of the many decanters 
 standing there for the use of all comers. Doubt- 
 less, these two persons were some of the police 
 agents who were distributed about the house 
 under various disguises to look after the Emperor 
 without worrying him by too ostentatious attention, 
 and moved about at a respectful distance, ready 
 to fly to his help if they were wanted. Napoleon 
 received the water which I brought him with so 
 much satisfaction that I thought he must be 
 
224 Napoleon. 
 
 parched with thirst; to my surprise, however, he 
 swallowed only a small mouthful, then, dipping 
 the two handkerchiefs in the iced water, he told 
 me to put one on the nape of his neck while he 
 held the other to his face, repeating, 4 Ah ! that's 
 good, that's good ! J Duroc then resumed his chat 
 with me, chiefly about the recent campaign in 
 Austria. The Emperor said, ' You behaved very 
 well, especially at the assault on Ratisbon and 
 the crossing of the Danube ; I shall never forget 
 it, and before long I will give you a notable proof 
 of my satisfaction.' I could not imagine what this 
 new reward was to consist of, but my heart leapt 
 for joy. Then, oh woe ! the terrible shepherdess 
 appeared at the end of the little room. f Oh ! 
 there you are, sir ! I shall complain to your 
 cousin of your rudeness/ she exclaimed. ' Since 
 you deserted me I have been all but smothered 
 ten times over. I had to leave the ball-room, the 
 heat is stifling. It seems comfortable here ; I 
 will rest here.' So saying, she sat down beside 
 me. 
 
 " General Duroc said nothing, and the Emperor, 
 keeping his back turned and his face in the wet 
 handkerchief, remained motionless ; more and 
 more so as the shepherdess, given free play to her 
 reckless tongue, and taking no notice of our 
 neighbours, told me how she thought she had 
 more than once recognised the personage whom 
 she sought in the crowd, but had not been able 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 225 
 
 to get at him. ' But I must speak to him/ she 
 said; 'he absolutely must double my pension. I 
 know that people have tried to injure me by saying 
 that I was free in my youth. Good heavens ! go 
 and listen for a moment to the talk down there 
 between the windows. Besides, what about his 
 sisters? What about himself? What does he 
 come here for, if not to be able to talk as he likes 
 to pretty women ? They say my husband stole ; 
 poor devil ! he took to it late, and was pretty 
 clumsy at it. Besides, have not his accusers 
 stolen too ? Did they inherit their town houses 
 and their fine estates? Didn't he steal in Italy, 
 Egypt, everywhere ? ' ' But, madame,' said I, 
 'allow me to remark that what you say is very 
 unseemly, and I am all the more surprised you 
 should say it to me, that I never saw you till this 
 morning/ ' Oh ! I speak the truth before any 
 one. And if he does not give me a good pension, 
 I will tell him, or write to him, what I think of 
 him pretty plainly. Oh ! I am not afraid of 
 anything.' I was on tenterhooks, and would 
 willingly have exchanged my situation for a cavalry 
 charge or a storming party. However, my agony 
 
 was alleviated by feeling that Madame X 's 
 
 chatter would clear my character with my two 
 neighbours when they heard that I had never 
 seen her till that morning, had not brought her 
 to the ball, and had got away from her as 
 soon as I could." 
 
 Q 
 
226 Napoleon. 
 
 XVI. 
 THE END OF THE ADVENTURE. 
 
 " NEVERTHELESS, I was rather anxious about the 
 way in which this scene would end, when Duroc, 
 leaning towards me, said : ' Don't let this woman 
 follow us/ He rose. The Emperor had replaced 
 
 his mask while Madame X was raving at him, 
 
 and as he passed in front of her he said to me, 
 ' Marbot, people who take an interest in you 
 are pleased to know that you never met this 
 charming shepherdess till to-day, and you would 
 do well to send her off to feed her sheep.' So 
 saying, Napoleon took Duroc's arm and went 
 
 out. Madame X , astounded, and thinking she 
 
 recognised them, wanted to dart after them. I 
 knew that, strong as I was, I could not hold 
 this giantess by the arm, but I seized her by the 
 skirt, which tore at the waist with a loud crack. 
 At the sound the shepherdess, fearing that if 
 she pulled she would presently find herself in 
 her shift, stopped short, saying, ' It's he ! it's he ! ' 
 and reproaching me bitterly for having hindered 
 her from following. This I endured patiently 
 until I saw in the distance the Emperor and 
 Duroc, with the two Scotchmen following a little 
 way off, come to the end of the long suite of 
 rooms and reach the staircase. Judging, then, that 
 Madame X would not be able to find them 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 227 
 
 in the crowd, I made her a low bow without a 
 word, and went off as quick as I could. She 
 was ready to choke with rage, but feeling that 
 the lower part of her garment was about to desert 
 her, she said to me, ' At least, try to get me some 
 pins, for my dress is falling off.' But I was so 
 angry at her freaks that I left her in the lurch, 
 and I will even admit that I was mischievous 
 enough to rejoice at her awkward position. I 
 quickly left the house and returned home. I 
 passed a disturbed night, seeing myself in my 
 dreams pursued by the shepherdess, who, in spite 
 of my remonstrances, kept insulting the Emperor 
 horribly. Next day I went to cousin Sahuguet 
 to tell her the extraordinary conduct of her 
 dangerous friend. She was disgusted, and forbade 
 
 her house to Madame X , who a few days 
 
 after received orders to leave Paris, nor do I 
 know what became of her. 
 
 "The Emperor, as is well known, attended a 
 state mass every Sunday, after which there was a 
 grand reception at the Tuileries, open to every one 
 who had reached a certain rank in the civil or 
 judicial service, and to officers in the army. As 
 such I had the entree, of which I only availed 
 myself once a month. The Sunday following the 
 day on which the scene I have related took place I 
 was in perplexity. Ought I to show myself to 
 the Emperor so quickly, or would it be better to 
 let some weeks pass ? I consulted my mother, 
 
 Q, 2 
 
228 Napoleon. 
 
 and her opinion was that as I was in no way to 
 blame in the affair, I had better go to the Tuileries, 
 and show no signs of embarrassment, which advice 
 I followed. The people who came to court formed 
 a rank on each side of the way to the chapel. 
 The Emperor passed in silence between them, 
 returning their salutes. He replied to mine by a 
 good-natured smile, which seemed to me of good 
 omen, and completely reassured me. After the 
 mass, as Napoleon went through the rooms again, 
 and, according to his custom, addressed a few 
 words to the people who -were there, he stopped 
 in front of me, and being unable to express him- 
 self freely in presence of so many hearers, he said 
 to me, sure that I should take his meaning : * I 
 am told that you were at Marescalchi's last ball ; 
 did you enjoy yourself very much ? ' ' Not the 
 least bit, sir.' ' Ah ! ' replied the Emperor, ' if 
 masked balls sometimes offer agreeable adven- 
 tures, they are apt also to cause very awkward 
 ones,. The great thing is to get well out of them, 
 and no doubt that is what you did/ As soon as- 
 the Emperor had passed on, General Duroc, who 
 was behind me, said in my ear : ' Confess that 
 there was a moment when you were in a con- 
 siderable fix ! So was I, indeed, for I am respon- 
 sible for all the invitations ; but it won't happen 
 again. Our impudent shepherdess is far away from 
 Paris, and will never come back/ " 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 229 
 
 XVII. 
 AFTER MOSCOW. 
 
 THERE is a vivid description of some of the 
 horrors of the Russian campaign, but the mention 
 of Napoleon is not frequent, and there is no 
 picture of him that stands out in bold relief. But 
 here is a passage which throws a singular and 
 clear light on France and her attitude to Napoleon 
 after these disasters. It is a picture the more 
 striking because it is drawn, not by a politician 
 or a philanthropist, but by a soldier who revelled 
 in war's perils and glories : 
 
 " The majority of the French nation still con- 
 fided in Napoleon. No doubt well-informed 
 persons blamed him for having forced his army 
 on to Moscow, and especially for having waited 
 there till winter; but the mass of the people, 
 accustomed to regard the Emperor as infallible, 
 and having, moreover, no idea of what had really 
 happened, or of the losses of our army in Russia, 
 saw only the renown which the capture of Moscow 
 had shed on our arms ; so they were eager to 
 give the Emperor the means of bringing victory 
 back to his eagles. Each department and town 
 was patriotically ready to find horses; but the 
 levies of conscripts and money soon chilled their 
 enthusiasm. Still, on 'the whole, the nation sacri- 
 ficed itself with a good grace, squadrons and 
 
230 Napoleon. 
 
 battalions rising as if by magic from the ground. 
 It was astonishing that, after all the drafts of men 
 which France had undergone in the last twenty 
 years, never had soldiers of such good quality 
 been enlisted. This was due to several causes; 
 first, there had been for some years in each of 
 the hundred and twenty existing departments a 
 so-called ' departmental ' company of infantry 
 a kind of praetorian guard to the prefects, and 
 formed by their picked men, who, being well 
 looked after and not overworked, had time to 
 grow to their full strength, and being regularly 
 drilled and exercised, needed only their ' baptism of 
 fire ' to make them perfect troops. The companies 
 varied in strength from one hundred to two 
 hundred and fifty men ; the Emperor sent them 
 all to the army, where they were merged in line 
 regiments. Secondly, a great number of conscripts 
 from previous years, who, for one reason or 
 another, had obtained leave to be placed at the 
 ' tail ' of their depots, to wait until they were 
 required, were called up. They, too, as they 
 grew older, had nearly all become strong and 
 vigorous." 
 
 XVIII. 
 THE BLOOD TAX. 
 
 THERE is something strangely moving and 
 pathetic in this picture of the readiness of the 
 people of France to place themselves at the 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 231 
 
 mercy of their terrible ruler. Here is a con- 
 tinuation of the picture which will show how 
 thoroughly merciless were the exactions with 
 which Napoleon demanded the full tax of 
 blood : 
 
 " These were legal measures ; but not so 
 was the recalling of persons who had drawn a 
 lucky number at the conscriptions and thus 
 escaped service. All of these below the age of 
 thirty were required to serve. This levy, there- 
 fore, furnished a number of men fit to undergo 
 the fatigues of war. There was some grumbling, 
 especially in the south and west ; but so great 
 was the habit of obedience, that nearly all the 
 contingent went on duty. This submission on 
 the part of the people led the Government to 
 take a still more illegal step, which, as it touched 
 the upper class, was the more dangerous. After 
 having made men serve whom the ballot had 
 exempted, they compelled those who had quite 
 lawfully obtained substitutes to shoulder their 
 muskets all the same. Many families had em- 
 barrassed and even ruined themselves to keep 
 their sons at home, for a substitute cost from 
 12,000 to 20,000 francs at that time, and this 
 had to be paid down. There were some young 
 men who had obtained substitutes three times 
 over, and were none the less compelled to go ; 
 cases even occurred in which they had to serve 
 in the same company with the man whom they 
 
232 Napoleon. 
 
 had paid to take their place. This piece of 
 iniquity was owing to the advice of Clarke, 
 the War Minister, and Savary, the Police Minister, 
 who persuaded the Emperor that, to prevent any 
 movement of opposition to the Government during 
 the war, sons of influential families must be got 
 out of the country and sent to the army, to act 
 in some sort as hostages. In order, however, to 
 reduce the odium of this measure somewhat, the 
 Emperor created, under the name of Guards of 
 Honour, four cavalry regiments formed of young 
 men of good education. They wore a brilliant 
 hussar uniform, and had generals for their 
 colonels. 
 
 " To these more or less legal levies, the 
 Emperor added the produce of a forestalled 
 conscription, and there were excellent battalions 
 formed of sailors, and artificers or gunners of 
 marine artillery, all well-set men trained in 
 handling arms, who had long been weary of 
 their monotonous life in ports, and were eager 
 to go and win glory along with their comrades 
 of the land forces. They soon became formidable 
 infantry, and amounted to 30,000. Lastly, the 
 Emperor further weakened the army in Spain 
 by taking from it not only some thousands of 
 men to replenish his guard, but whole brigades 
 and divisions of seasoned veterans." 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 233 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE DEFEAT AT LEIPSIC. 
 
 EVERYBODY knows the story of the great battle 
 of Leipsic. Marbot reveals the secret of that 
 utter absence of any preparation for retreat, 
 which explained so much of the horrible blood- 
 shed, by which Napoleon's retreat after the battle 
 was followed. 
 
 " The Emperor's chief of the head-quarters' 
 -staff was Prince Berthier, who had been with 
 him since the Italian campaign of 1796. He 
 was a man of capacity, accuracy, and devotion 
 to duty, but he had often felt the effects of the 
 Imperial wrath, and had acquired such a dread 
 of Napoleon's outbreaks, that he had vowed in 
 no circumstance to take the initiative or ask any 
 question, but to confine himself to executing 
 orders which he received in writing. This system, 
 while keeping the chief of the staff on good 
 terms with his master, was injurious to the 
 interests of the army ; for great as were the 
 Emperor's activity and talents, it was physically 
 impossible for him to see to everything, and thus, 
 if he overlooked any important matter, it did 
 not get attended to. 
 
 " So it seems to have been at Leipsic. 
 Nearly all the marshals and generals command- 
 ing army corps pointed out to Berthier over 
 
234 Napoleon. 
 
 and over again the necessity of providing many 
 passages to secure a retreat in the event of a 
 reverse, but he always answered, ' The Emperor 
 has given no orders.' Nothing could be got out 
 of him, so that when, on the night of the i8th, 
 the Emperor gave the order to retreat on Weissen- 
 fels and the Saale, there was not a beam or a 
 plank across a single brook." 
 
 This is one of the many instances in history 
 of the demoralisation which the uncontrolled 
 and despotic temper of a leader is apt to produce 
 in his subordinates. There is a significant passage 
 in the course of this description which shows how 
 far the Emperor had begun to lose his popularity, 
 even in the army : 
 
 " The Emperor came by, but as he galloped 
 along the flank of the column he heard none 
 of the acclamations which were wont to proclaim 
 his presence. The army was ill-Content with 
 the little care which had been taken to secure 
 its retreat." 
 
 xx. 
 
 NAPOLEON AS A FRIEND. 
 
 THROUGHOUT Marbot's narrative there is scarcely 
 a reflection which shows any strong reprobation 
 of Napoleon's methods or character ; indeed, our 
 Marbot is almost as free from any penetrating 
 sense of the horrors of war as though the soul 
 of old Froissart had passed into his. Never- 
 
Napoleon, as he appeared to a Soldier. 235 
 
 theless, he cannot help, now and then, giving us 
 glimpses of the red and hideous ruin which 
 Napoleon had brought on France. Here is a 
 passage of sober but effective eloquence in which 
 Marbot paints France as she was in 1814 : 
 
 " Several military writers have expressed sur- 
 prise that France did not rise as in 1792 to repel 
 the invaders, or at least form, like the Spaniards, 
 a focus of national defence in every province. To 
 this the answer is, that twenty-five years of war, 
 and the conscription too frequently anticipated, 
 had worn out the enthusiasm which in 1792 had 
 improvised armies. The example of Spain does 
 not apply to France. Paris has been allowed to 
 gain too much influence, and unless she puts herself 
 at the head of the movement, France is help- 
 less. In Spain, on the other hand, each province, 
 being a little government, could act and raise an 
 army, even when the French held Madrid. France 
 was ruined by centralisation." 
 
 Marbot, as well as the other chroniclers, shows 
 Napoleon's softer side. He was very indulgent 
 to some of his lieutenants, especially to General 
 Lasalle, who seems to have been one of the greatest 
 scamps as well as one of the most brilliant soldiers 
 in the army. 
 
 " Lasalle had intimate relations with a French 
 lady in high society, and while he was in Egypt 
 their correspondence was seized by the English 
 and insultingly published by order of the Govern- 
 
236 Napoleon. 
 
 ment an act which even in England was blamed. 
 A divorce followed, and on his return to Europe 
 Lasalle married the lady. As general, Lasalle 
 was placed by the Emperor in command of the 
 advanced guard of the Grand Army. He dis- 
 tinguished himself at Austerlitz and in Prussia; 
 having the audacity to appear before Stettin and 
 summon the place with two regiments of hussars. 
 The Governor lost his head and brought out the 
 keys, instead of using them to lock the gates, in 
 which case all the cavalry in Europe could not 
 have taken it. This feat brought Lasalle much 
 credit, and raised the Emperor's liking for him to 
 a high point. Indeed, he petted him to an in- 
 credible degree, laughing at all his freaks, and 
 never letting him pay his own debts. Just as he 
 was on the point of marrying the lady to whom I 
 have referred, Napoleon had given him 200,000 
 francs out of his privy purse. A week later, 
 meeting him at the Tuileries, the Emperor asked, 
 'When is the wedding?' 'As soon as I have 
 got some money to furnish with, sir.' 'Why, I 
 gave you 200,000 francs last week ! What have 
 you done with them ? ' ' Paid my debts with half, 
 and lost the other half at cards ! ' Such an 
 admission would have ruined any other general. 
 The Emperor laughed, and, merely giving a sharp 
 tug to Lasalle' s moustache, ordered Duroc to give 
 him another 200,000 francs." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 NAPOLEON'S CHIEF DETRACTOR.* 
 
 NAPOLEON interfered with and ruined many 
 careers; but in the long gallery of those on 
 whom he trampled in his march to greatness, 
 none is so remarkable as Barras. 
 
 This Barras was so utter and tremendous a 
 blackguard that one is tempted, in reading these 
 Memoirs of his, to forget that he was also very 
 brave, adroit, resourceful, and that he went within 
 an inch of being a very great man. This book 
 is intended to be a tremendous indictment of 
 Napoleon, but it turns out a tremendous indict- 
 ment of Napoleon's greatest enemy and assail- 
 ant. Most of the blows of Barras at the person 
 of Napoleon fall short, and even recoil on himself ; 
 but between Barras and Napoleon there was 
 probably less to choose than some critics have 
 said. To read the hot encounters of the two 
 is to be reminded of what a desperate game it 
 
 * " Memoirs of Barras." (London : Osgood & Mcllvaine.) 
 
238 Napoleon. 
 
 was how unprincipled, how reckless, and how 
 selfish were the men who fought over the body 
 of France. And finally, this book confirms the 
 opinion that Napoleon in real greatness was much 
 superior to all the rivals whom he cast down, and 
 especially to this one, who rises, as it were, from 
 the dead to continue the conflict. 
 
 NEARLY A GREAT MAN. 
 
 I HAVE said that Barras went very near to being a 
 great man. I base this statement mainly on the part 
 he played against Robespierre. Make what deduc- 
 tions you like allow for change of circumstances, 
 for the growing disgust and revolt against the 
 cruelties of the Dictator and his universal guil- 
 lotine the fact remains that Barras succeeded 
 where other of the mightiest spirits of the French 
 Revolution failed. Instead of following Danton 
 to the scaffold, as everybody would have thought 
 probable, Barras sent Robespierre there, and un- 
 doubtedly he was the inspirer, the leader, and 
 the spirit without whom the movement against 
 the omnipotent Dictator would have collapsed. 
 Corrupt, pleasure-loving, unprincipled all these 
 things Barras was ; but, on the other hand, he was 
 capable, fearless, ready-witted, a born leader of 
 men. And while one must loathe his vices, is 
 there not, on the other hand, something singularly 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 239 
 
 human and picturesque in his strange, terrible, 
 and contradictory nature with love and laughter 
 on the one side, and a struggle on the edge of the 
 precipice and at the foot of the guillotine on the 
 other with the beautiful Madame Tallien and 
 Josephine Beauharnais on his arm, and on the 
 other hand, the tiger-eyes of Robespierre to face 
 and to subdue ? 
 
 ii. 
 
 BARRAS AND ROBESPIERRE A CONTRAST. 
 
 WHAT merit these Memoirs have is not in the 
 least due to grace of style. Barras was not a 
 very articulate man. He was, above all things, 
 a man of action. In the tribune he was rarely 
 effective; his pen is clumsy, cold, uninspired. But 
 to a certain extent that is one of the charms of 
 these Memoirs. I find it thrilling and convincing 
 to read an account such as he gives dry, un- 
 pretentious, matter-of-fact of some of the wildest 
 and most terrible scenes of the Revolution 
 notably of that day of days when he and 
 Robespierre were in the death-grip. And indeed, 
 I find something else in the absence of all grace 
 from these accounts. Napoleon used to say that 
 he was always on his guard against generals who 
 made pictures to their imaginations. He wanted 
 the man who saw what was right in front of him 
 without haze or illusion, or thoughts coloured by 
 wishes. Barras made no pictures to his imagina- 
 
240 Napoleon. 
 
 tion. Around Robespierre he saw none of the 
 halo, either of worshipping reverence or awe-struck 
 horror, with which either admiration or hatred 
 endowed him. Barras simply saw an enemy who 
 would kill if he weren't killed ; he went for the 
 enemy with straight, direct, and clear - eyed 
 simplicity, while others paused, vacillated, and 
 debated ; and so was successful where others had 
 failed. Of the two men, Robespierre was in 
 private virtuous, spotless, and the other, in private 
 vices, almost unsurpassable. It is, indeed, the 
 revolt of a corrupt, vicious, laughter-loving man 
 of the world against saintly austerities, that is 
 in action in the fight between Barras and 
 Robespierre ; but whatever the faults and crimes 
 of Barras, posterity shares the joy of his con- 
 temporaries at his victory over the Sea-green 
 Incorruptible, for it was, after all, the victory of 
 humanity over the pitiless cruelty of a fanatic. 
 
 in. 
 
 THE INCORRUPTIBLE AT HOME. 
 
 WHEN Barras returned to Paris after the suc- 
 cessful siege of Toulon, where first he and Napoleon 
 were brought into contact, there were already 
 rumours that he had begun that career of 
 peculation in which he was to surpass all his con- 
 temporaries. Robespierre had no toleration for 
 any such form of political crime ; and, doubtless, 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 241 
 
 he had marked out Barras as one of the " corrupt 
 men " of whom the sanguinary guillotine was to 
 rid the nation. Barras, doubtless, felt this too, 
 and this adds a terrible interest to the account 
 which these Memoirs give of the interview between 
 the two men. One can almost read between its 
 lines the deadly hate, the mutual terror, the 
 severe examination of each other's resources, 
 which these duellists were already feeling before 
 they crossed swords in the fight to the death. 
 
 Here is the account Barras gives of the inter- 
 view: 
 
 "I finally resolved on calling upon this 
 almightiness, this representative of Republican 
 purity, the incorruptible one par excellence. I 
 had never had more than a passing glimpse of 
 Robespierre, either on the benches or in the hall- 
 ways of the Convention ; we had never had any 
 personal intercourse. His frigid attitude, his 
 scorn of courtesies, had imposed on me the 
 maintenance of a reserve which my self-pride 
 dictated to me when in face of an equal. Freron 
 considered our safety depended on this visit, 
 so we wended our way to the residence of 
 Robespierre. It was a little house situated in 
 the Rue Saint-Honore, almost opposite the Rue 
 Saint-Florentin. I think it no longer exists 
 nowadays, owing to the opening made to create 
 the Rue Dupont just at that spot. This house 
 was occupied and owned by a carpenter, by name 
 
242 Napoleon. 
 
 Duplay. This carpenter, a member of the 
 Jacobin Club, had met Robespierre at its 
 meetings; with the whole of his household, he 
 had become an enthusiastic worshipper at the 
 shrine of the popular orator, and had obtained 
 for himself the honour of securing him both as 
 boarder and lodger. In his leisure moments 
 Robespierre was wont to comment on the ' Emile ' 
 of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and explain it to the 
 children of the carpenter, just as a good village 
 parish priest expounds the Gospel to his flock. 
 Touched and grateful for this evangelistic soli- 
 citude, the children and apprentices of the worthy 
 artisan would not suffer his guest, the object of 
 their hero-worship, to go into the street without 
 escorting him to the door of the National Con- 
 vention, for the purpose of watching over his 
 precious life, which his innate cowardice and the 
 flattery of his courtiers were beginning to make 
 him believe threatened in every possible way by 
 the aristocracy, who were seeking to destroy the 
 incorruptible tribune of the people. It was 
 necessary, in order to reach the eminent guest 
 deigning to inhabit this humble little hole of a 
 place, to pass through a long alley flanked with 
 planks stacked there, the owner's stock-in-trade. 
 This alley led to a little yard from seven to 
 eight feet square, likewise full of planks. A 
 little wooden staircase led to a room on the 
 first floor. Prior to ascending it we perceived 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 243 
 
 in the yard the daughter of the carpenter Duplay, 
 the owner of the house. This girl allowed no 
 one to take her place in ministering to Robes- 
 pierre's needs. As women of this class in those 
 days freely espoused the political ideas then 
 prevalent, and as in her case they were of a 
 most pronounced nature, Danton had surnamed 
 Cornelie Copeau 'the Cornelia who is not the 
 mother of the Gracchi.' Cornelie seemed to be 
 finishing spreading linen to dry in the yard ; in 
 her hand were a pair of striped cotton stockings, 
 in fashion at the time, and which were certainly 
 similar to those we daily saw encasing the legs 
 of Robespierre on his visits to the Convention. 
 Opposite her sat Mother Duplay between a pail 
 and a salad-basket, busily engaged in picking 
 salad-herbs." 
 
 IV. 
 A MEMORABLE INTERVIEW. 
 
 BUT I must hurry on to the interview : 
 
 " Robespierre was standing, wrapped in a sort 
 of chemise peignoir; he had just left the hands 
 of his hairdresser, who had finished combing 
 and powdering his hair ; he was without the 
 spectacles he usually wore in public, and piercing 
 through the powder covering that face, already 
 so white in its natural pallor, we could see a 
 pair of eyes whose dimness the glasses had 
 until then screened from us. These eyes fastened 
 
 R 2 
 
244 Napoleon. 
 
 themselves on us with a fixed stare, expressive 
 of utter astonishment at our appearance. We 
 saluted him after our own way, without any 
 embarrassment, and in the simple fashion of the 
 period. He showed no recognition of our 
 courtesy, going by turns to his toilet-glass hang- 
 ing to a window looking out on the courtyard, 
 and then to a little mirror, intended, doubtless, 
 as an ornament to his mantelpiece, but which 
 nowadays set it off; taking his toilet-knife, he 
 began scraping off the powder, mindful of 
 observing the outlines of his carefully-dressed 
 hair; then, doffing his peignoir, he flung it on 
 a chair close to us in such a way as to soil our 
 clothes, without apologising to us for his action, 
 and without even appearing to notice our presence. 
 He washed himself in a sort of wash-hand basin 
 which he held with one hand, cleaning his teeth, 
 repeatedly spat on the ground right at our feet, 
 without so much as heeding us, and in almost 
 as direct a fashion as Potemkin, who, it is known, 
 did not take the trouble of turning the other 
 way, but who, without warning or taking any 
 precaution, was wont to spit in the faces of 
 those standing before him. This ceremony over, 
 Robespierre did not even then address a single 
 word to us. Freron thought it time to speak, 
 so he introduced me, saying, c This is my 
 colleague, Barras, who has done more than 
 either myself or any military man to bring 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 245 
 
 about the capture of Toulon. Both of us have 
 performed our duty on the field of battle at 
 the peril of our lives, and we are prepared to 
 do likewise in the Convention. It is rather 
 distressing, when men have shown themselves 
 as willing as ourselves, not to receive simple 
 justice, but to see ourselves the object of the 
 most iniquitous charges and the most monstrous 
 calumnies. We feel quite sure that at least 
 those who know us as thou dost, Robespierre, 
 will do us justice, and cause it to be done us.' 
 Robespierre still remained silent; but Freron 
 thought he noticed, by an almost imperceptible 
 shadow which flitted over his motionless features, 
 that the thou, a continuation of the revolutionary 
 custom, was distasteful to him, so, pursuing the 
 tenor of his speech, he found means of im- 
 mediately substituting the word you, in order 
 to again be on good terms with this haughty 
 and susceptible personage. Robespierre gave no 
 sign of satisfaction at this act of deference ; he 
 was standing, and so remained, without inviting 
 us to take a seat. I informed him politely that 
 our visit to him was prompted by the esteem 
 in which we held his political principles; he 
 did not deign to reply to me by a single word, 
 nor did his face reveal the trace of any emotion 
 whatsoever. I have never seen anything so 
 impassible in the frigid marble of statuary or 
 in the face of the dead already laid to rest. . . . 
 
246 Napoleon. 
 
 Such was our interview with Robespierre. I 
 cannot call it a conversation, for his lips never 
 parted ; tightly closed as they were, he pursed 
 them even tighter ; from them, I noticed, oozed 
 a bilious froth boding no good. I had seen all I 
 wanted, for I had had a view of what has since 
 been most accurately described as the tiger-cat" 
 
 It would be a waste of the time of the 
 reader to dwell on the points in this narrative 
 which are intensely interesting. The simplicity 
 and even squalor of the' surroundings of the 
 mighty master of life and death, his sinister 
 looks, his appalling silence all these things the 
 most hurried reader can find for himself in the 
 passage. Its sense of reality and of life is 
 overwhelming. 
 
 v. 
 
 DANTON. 
 
 I CANNOT dwell on the passages in which Barras 
 describes the closing conflicts between Robespierre 
 and the other Revolutionaries, but there is not 
 a line in this portion of the Memoirs which is 
 not intensely vivid; the more so for the reason 
 I have already given that the narrative has 
 the matter-of-fact unpretentiousness of daily life. 
 
 Take as an example this scene, which occurred 
 just a few days before Danton's execution : 
 
 "As I was leaving the Convention one day 
 in the company of Danton, Courtois, Freron, and 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 247 
 
 Panis, we met in the Cour du Carrousel several 
 deputies who were members of the secret com- 
 mittees. Danton, going towards them, said to 
 them, 'You should read the Memoirs of Philip- 
 peaux. They will supply you with the means 
 of putting an end to this Vendean war which 
 you have undertaken with the view of rendering 
 your powers necessary.' Vadier, Amar, Vouland, 
 and Barrere charged Danton with having caused 
 these Memoirs to be printed and circulated. 
 Danton merely replied, ' I am not called upon 
 to vindicate myself.' Thereupon an angry dis- 
 cussion ensued, degenerating into personalities. 
 Danton threatened the members of the Committee 
 that he would take the floor in the National 
 Convention, and charge them with malversations 
 and tyranny. The others withdrew without 
 replying, but bearing him no goodwill. I said 
 to Danton, ' Let us at once return to the National 
 Convention ; take the floor ; you may rest assured 
 of our support, but do not let us wait until to- 
 morrow, for there is a likelihood of your being 
 arrested to-night/ 'They would not dare to/ 
 was Danton's contemptuous rejoinder ; then 
 addressing himself to me, he said, ' Come and 
 help us to eat a pullet.' I declined. Brune, 
 the friend, and up to that time the inseparable 
 aide-de-camp of Danton, was present. I re- 
 marked to Brune, ' Guard Danton carefully, for 
 he threatened where he should have struck.' " 
 
248 Napoleon. 
 
 In this " Come and help us to eat a pullet," 
 there is that human touch necessary to remind 
 us that even in those apocalyptic times, men, 
 who were in the very heart of the cyclone, went 
 about their business and their pleasures pretty 
 much as we all do in ordinary times. 
 
 VI. 
 
 ROBESPIERRE'S LUST FOR BLOOD. 
 
 THE account of the execution of Danton adds 
 nothing to the details we have already known ; 
 but there are some statements about Robespierre 
 which I have not seen anywhere before. They 
 strike me as not like the truth as mere 
 invention : 
 
 " It has been stated that, not content with 
 having seen the victims pass his house, Robespierre 
 had followed them to the place of execution, that 
 he had contemplated them with ferocious satis- 
 faction in the different phases of their agony; 
 lastly, that the insatiable tiger, rendered more 
 bloodthirsty by the sight, appeared to be licking 
 his jaws and gargling his throat with the blood 
 flowing in torrents from the scaffold into the Place 
 de la Revolution. But if his joy was complete at 
 the very moment when Danton's head fell, he is 
 said by some mechanical instinct to have put his 
 hand to his neck, as if to make sure that his own 
 head was on his shoulders. He was making no 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 249 
 
 mistake in believing that his head was now more 
 than ever in jeopardy since that of Danton had 
 fallen. It may be said that at that moment the 
 power of Robespierre renounced its main support 
 that of the trust reposed in him by the patriots. 
 He sought to conceal himself amid the masses 
 surrounding the guillotine, but, as if already 
 pursued by a celestial vengeance, he was seen to 
 wend his way homewards with tottering steps, as 
 if he had lost his balance." 
 
 Here is a small but eloquent proof of the 
 terrible ascendency Robespierre exercised over 
 the Convention : 
 
 " Such was the terror produced by Robespierre 
 that a member of the National Convention who 
 thought the gaze of the Dictator was fixed upon 
 him, just as he was putting his hand to his 
 forehead in musing fashion, quickly withdrew it, 
 saying : * He will suppose that I am thinking of 
 something.' " 
 
 VII. 
 FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. 
 
 FINALLY, from this portion of the Memoirs I must 
 quote the passages in which Barras, with a terrible 
 and grim humour which gives us some idea of the 
 iron nature of the man, and of its haughty scorn of 
 human nature describes the obsequiousness of 
 Fouquier-Tinville, and the other wretches who 
 
250 Napoleon. 
 
 had been the joyous instruments of Robespierre's 
 tyranny. 
 
 " When Robespierre, together with Couthon and 
 Saint-Just, were arraigned before the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal, merely for the purpose of having their 
 identity established, since they were outlawed and 
 nothing remained but to hand them over to the 
 executioner, Fouquier-Tinville, the Public Prosecutor 
 (performing the duties of the officer of the law 
 nowadays called procureur-general}, was in a state 
 of agitation hardly to be imagined he who up 
 to that very moment had gone every day, even but 
 yesterday, to take the orders of Robespierre 
 and Saint-Just in regard to all the unfortunate 
 people whom it pleased them to send to the scaffold, 
 to see himself directly, and by a superior and in- 
 evitable will, entrusted with the duty of bringing 
 to the same scaffold the men who had been first 
 chosen, so to speak, as organisers of slaughter, 
 and, to say the very least, actual dictators ! Fou- 
 quier's embarrassment in so critical a conjunction 
 may be conceived; he doubtless could say to 
 himself with some show of reason and presenti- 
 ment : ' Mutato nomine de te. . . .' I could not 
 blame him for the sort of embarrassment I 
 noticed in his whole person at the moment of 
 fulfilling a like duty. Fouquier-Tinville had 
 already made an attempt to apologise for his 
 behaviour with regard to the condemned men 
 themselves. ' I am well aware that it is not 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 251 
 
 I/ he said, ' who am sentencing ces messieurs ' (for 
 this was the only allowable appellation, the word 
 monsieur having been struck out of the language), 
 ' since they are outlaws, and that in the present case 
 the tribunal merely applies the penalty ; I am well 
 aware that it is my duty, and even my right, to 
 urge on justice and to guide it ; what I am doing 
 to-day is in one respect less than what I was 
 doing yesterday, for yesterday we gave judg- 
 ments on our own responsibility, while to-day we 
 are merely executing the decree of the National 
 
 Convention ; but yet ' I could not see when 
 
 this ' but yet ' was going to stop, and in what way 
 Fouquier-Tinville would get rid of his hesitation ; 
 there was a danger of its increasing during the 
 surrounding confusion. I saw that there was no 
 time to be lost, and that it was necessary to instil 
 courage into the head of the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal. I am thus designating Fouquier- 
 Tinville ; I would have called him the soul of it, 
 could one believe such monsters possessed a soul. 
 ' Come now, citizen Fouquier/ I exclaimed in a 
 loud but cold, imperious voice, ' the National Con- 
 vention have commissioned me to see its orders 
 carried out ; I give you the one to proceed without 
 further delay with the fulfilment of your mandate. 
 This is the day to show oneself a patriot by 
 sending the guilty ones forthwith to the scaffold 
 awaiting them.' Fouquier did not require a 
 second warning. He at once took his place 
 
252 Napoleon. 
 
 on the bench, doffed his little cape, his hat with 
 the brim turned up a la Henri IV., summoned 
 the judges, repeated the fatal formula against 
 Robespierre, Couthon, Saint- Just, and the whole 
 of the frightful band with as much firmness as on 
 the previous day he had pronounced the formula 
 ' by and in the name of Robespierre.' All the 
 forms of the ceremonial were completed in short 
 order ; in less than half an hour the condemned 
 men had, to use the judge's phraseology, ' their 
 toilet made, their boots greased/ and could go to 
 their destination. ... So I urged on Fouquier, 
 saying, * Come now, let us make a start.' ' We 
 will start at once/ replied Fouquier quickly, and 
 even with really triumphant alacrity ; ' but where 
 shall we take them to ? ' ' Why, to the usual 
 place, where so many have preceded them/ ' But/ 
 said Fouquier to me in an undertone, with an air 
 of respectful and intimate confidence, ' for a week, 
 citizen representative, we have been sending our 
 condemned to the Barriere du Trone ; we have 
 given up using the Place de la Revolution/ 
 ' Return to it, then/ I said, with a determined 
 gesture ; ' the way to it shall be past Robespierre's 
 house ; the prophecy must be fulfilled ! ' ' Poor 
 Danton/ said Fouquier-Tinville, with an air of 
 being moved to pity, 'there was a patriot for 
 you ! ' believing, the knavish and cruel Fouquier, 
 that he could obliterate by this appearance of 
 regret the fact that he, Fouquier, had been 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 253 
 
 Danton's primary murderer ! . . . Fouquier bowed 
 humbly, and said to the Clerk of the Court and 
 the escort of gendarmes, * To the Place de la 
 Revolution ! ' In less than two hours, the clerk, 
 the ushers, the gendarmes, with Fouquier-Tinville 
 still at their head, arrived at the Committee of 
 Public Safety, and all, speaking almost together and 
 with combative eagerness, gave me an account of 
 the execution as of a triumph thoroughly accom- 
 plished. The terrible Robespierre was at last 
 launched into the eternal night, and slept side 
 by side with Louis XVI. . . . The spectators, 
 impatient of .and, it may truly be said, hungering 
 for the death of Robespierre, had not allowed the 
 sigh of deliverance to escape their bodies until 
 after they had convinced themselves of the con- 
 summation'of the execution by the unquestionable 
 evidence of the head severed from the trunk and 
 rolling into the basket of the executioner. Well, 
 then, even after the execution there seemed to 
 reign an almost general kind of fear of the 
 possible resurrection of the implacable man whose 
 inexorable speeches and sentences, without appeal, 
 had so cruelly tortured human minds. The news- 
 papers were uncertain whether they should venture 
 to publish even the fact. The Moniteur^ already 
 more than official (for it has always belonged to 
 the victorious side), especially shrank from this 
 its primary duty; it was only twenty-six days 
 later, i.e. on the 6th Fructidor following, that this 
 
254 Napoleon. 
 
 Moniteur made up its mind to record the most 
 colossal and decisive fact of modern times, not 
 only for France, but for Europe and the whole 
 human race." 
 
 VIII. 
 TWO NOTORIOUS WOMEN. 
 
 NOT a member of the whole family of Napoleon 
 is spared by Barras. There is a picture of the 
 mother and sisters of Napoleon which seeks to 
 confirm some of the worst charges made against 
 the Imperial family. It is a squalid and an odious 
 picture, but I am not prepared to say of it, as of 
 other pictures in the book, that it is untrue. A 
 lack of morality of any kind was undoubtedly one 
 of the marked characteristics of the Napoleonic 
 race. 
 
 However, it is on poor Josephine that Barras is 
 most severe. The pages which he devotes to her 
 are among the most infamous in literature. But it 
 is my business to let Barras speak for himself. 
 
 The two women who were credited with 
 exercising the greatest influence over him at 
 the moment when he was practically Dictator 
 of France, were Madame Tallien and Madame 
 Josephine de Beauharnais. This is how he speaks 
 of them : 
 
 " Madame Tallien, since the ninth Thermidor, 
 had shown herself in all public places, even at the 
 theatres, winning undisputed supremacy over her 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 255 
 
 sex. She was the feminine dictator of beauty. 
 As I was one of those who had been instrumental 
 in saving her life previous to the ninth Thermidor, 
 I had remained on a footing of intimacy with her, 
 not to be interrupted by my accession to the 
 Directorate. Those who, in all the relations of 
 life, consider only the means which can procure 
 them access to those in power, believed that 
 Madame Tallien, having possibly granted certain 
 favours, consequently exercised a certain sway 
 over me, and appealed to her, some under the 
 cloak of passion, others under that of devotion, 
 friendship, enthusiasm, or admiration. Madame 
 Tallien did not abuse this position to any too 
 great extent, seeking, it is true, in all this a happy 
 way of supplementing her fortune a very small 
 one at the time, and one she was compelled to 
 share with her husband, who possessed none, 
 either because he had earned little money, or 
 from the reason that he had run through it quickly. 
 Madame Tallien might, therefore, busy herself in 
 good earnest to pick up the money she judged 
 necessary for her maintenance ; but it must be 
 admitted that money, in the case of Madame 
 Tallien, was not the main object, but the means of 
 obtaining the pleasures she was fond of or which 
 she procured for others. I must in this connection 
 point out a distinction which the acquaintances of 
 Madame Tallien and Madame Beauharnais agreed 
 n establishing between these two gentlewomen, to 
 
256 Napoleon. 
 
 wit, that the liaisons of Madame Tallien were for 
 her genuine enjoyment, to which she brought all 
 the ardour and passion of her temperament. As 
 for Madame Beauharnais, it was the general belief 
 that her relations, even with the men whose 
 physical advantages she best appreciated, were not 
 so generous as those of Madame Tallien. Even 
 although the physical basis appeared to be with 
 Madame Beauharnais the origin of her liaison, 
 determined by an involuntary impulse, her liber- 
 tinism sprang merely from the mind, while the 
 heart played no part in the pleasures of her body ; 
 in a word, never loving except from motives of 
 interest, the lewd Creole never lost sight of 
 business, although those possessing her might 
 suppose she was conquered by them and had 
 freely given herself. She had sacrificed all to 
 sordid interests, and, as was said of a disreputable 
 woman who had preceded her in this style of 
 turning matters to account, ' she would have 
 drunk gold in the skull of her lover.' When 
 compared to Madame Tallien, it did not seem 
 possible that Madame Beauharnais could enter 
 into competition with her in the matter of physical 
 charms. Madame Tallien was then in the height 
 of her freshness ; Madame Beauharnais was be- 
 ginning to show the results of precocious de- 
 crepitude." 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 257 
 
 IX. 
 THE SYMMETRY OF BARRAS'S VILLAINY. 
 
 I AM sure every reader of this, and of the passages 
 I shall have still to quote, will feel a sentiment of 
 intense disgust. Of all dishonours, there is none 
 so base as that known as "kissing and telling." 
 Barras does more. He not only tells, but he 
 makes the weakness or the affection which women 
 displayed to himself the basis of a charge and an 
 enduring hatred against them. Up to the present 
 he has given no instance of any wrong either of 
 ingratitude or desertion which he suffered at the 
 hands of the beautiful Madame Tallien ; and yet 
 he not only reveals his relations with her, but goes 
 out of his way to represent her as self-seeking, 
 lewd, and base. In the code of honour among 
 men with any pretence to heart, or even to 
 decency, I should put it as almost the first article 
 that association with a woman had made her ever 
 afterwards amid change, after separation, even 
 after desertion a sacred being to be protected, 
 above all things to be respected and to be spared. 
 But what a light these revelations of Barras 
 throw on the meanness of his dark and cold soul ! 
 There is something to me positively appalling in 
 this bit of self-portraiture. When I come across a 
 man complete and perfect in vice, I at once feel 
 as if I were face to face with some terrible portent 
 of nature. And this man willing to receive the 
 
 s 
 
258 Napoleon. 
 
 endearments of words and of acts of some of the 
 most beautiful, fascinating, and tender women of 
 the period, and maintaining amid every scene of 
 passion and affection, with the background of the 
 guillotine, and all the horrors and abysses of the 
 time maintaining amid all this the same coldness 
 of heart, the same frigid outlook of the eye it 
 is a picture of a human being which makes me at 
 once bewildered and aghast ! Robespierre must 
 have been blind in that great interview between 
 him and Barras not to have seen the depths of 
 inflexibility, cruelty, and resolve which were in the 
 eyes of Barras. Or would it not be more correct 
 to say that Robespierre was too clear-sighted, and 
 that his frozen silence his refusal to utter even 
 one word, to give an indication by one look was 
 his instinctive sense of the kind of man with 
 whom he was dealing ? Robespierre was a highly 
 nervous and sensitive man ; his enemies declare 
 that he was an arrant coward. He certainly had 
 not firmness of nerve. In the weeks that preceded 
 the final struggle for his life he went to a shooting- 
 gallery to steady his nerves by pistol practice. 
 He fainted after the first shot ! 
 
 TWO PORTRAITS BARRAS AND ROBESPIERRE. 
 
 LOOK at the portraits of the two men which are 
 in these volumes; and, perchance, they may 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 259 
 
 modify, if not revolutionise, your conception of 
 them, and of the events in which they took part. 
 The portrait confirms the feeling of surprise I re- 
 member to have experienced when first I saw that 
 authentic likeness of Robespierre of which Lord 
 Rosebery is the owner. I loathe Robespierre, and 
 thus I have to confess that this portrait is un- 
 pleasantly startling to me. To my imagination 
 the Sea-green Incorruptible always appeared as 
 having a long face, with straight, regular, icy-cold 
 features. The portrait that looks on one from this 
 book is that of a man with a short, rather chubby 
 face ; the cheeks are full and round ; the nose is ir- 
 regular, with broad nostrils, and a slight tendency 
 to the snub; the air is almost boyish, and is 
 gentle, even tender and rather sad. In short, if 
 I had been shown the portrait without knowing 
 the name or the nationality, I should have said 
 it was the portrait of an Irishman ; and I might 
 have even gone the length of guessing that it was 
 the portrait of John Philpot Curran, the celebrated 
 Irish orator and patriot, beautified and idealised. 
 And I may mention, as some extenuation of this 
 impression, that I have read somewhere that 
 Robespierre had some Irish blood in his veins. 
 
 The portrait of Robespierre faces the first 
 volume of these Memoirs, that of Barras faces 
 the second. And what a contrast! I am con- 
 vinced that any physiognomist in the world who 
 was asked to say which was the cruel monster 
 
 s 2 
 
260 Napoleon. 
 
 and which the kindly and genial nature, would 
 at once reverse the verdict of history, and see 
 in Robespierre the hero of mercy, and in Barras 
 the embodiment of cruelty. There is the dis- 
 tinction of the aristocrat about Barras. He 
 appears tall, shapely, erect; a haughty and hard 
 self-confidence in his attitude. And then, that 
 face ! The mouth is large, well-shaped, as tight 
 as a rat-trap; the nose is long, regular, dis- 
 tinguished ; and even through the spectral black 
 and white of an engraving, the eyes still seem 
 to burn and stare with brilliant and steel-like 
 glitter. It is a terrible face. 
 
 In "A Strange Story "Bui wer Lytton's best 
 story there is a spectre that strikes death as it 
 passes. It is called the Scin-lceca, if I remember 
 rightly after nearly a quarter of a century, and the 
 doomed one shudders as it passes and strikes. 
 Barras was the Scin-lceca of Robespierre. It was 
 no wonder that he was awed and paralysed into a 
 frozen silence as Barras passed. 
 
 XI. 
 
 NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE. 
 
 FROM Josephine, Barras passes to Napoleon, and 
 he is as severe on the future husband as on the 
 wife : 
 
 " Bonaparte, who knew of all her adventures 
 just as well as I did, had often heard the story 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 261 
 
 of them told in my presence ; but in consequence 
 of his intention, not to say his eagerness, to reach 
 his goal by all possible means, he had looked 
 upon the two gentlewomen whom I mention in 
 the light of means to this end; and whether it was 
 that Madame Tallien's beauty had, at the same 
 time, captivated him, or whether he believed, as 
 reputed, that she possessed greater influence than 
 Madame Beauharnais, it was to Madame Tallien that 
 he in the first place addressed his vows and respectful 
 attentions. This was soon followed by a declara- 
 tion of what he called his unconquerable passion. 
 Madame Tallien replied to the little enamoured 
 Corsican in a contemptuous fashion, which left 
 him no hope. She even went so far as to say 
 to him ironically that ' she thought she could do 
 better. . . .' After such a defeat Bonaparte con- 
 sidered that, beaten in one direction, he might 
 do better in another, so he conceived the idea 
 of paying his court to Madame Beauharnais, and 
 as he had some knowledge of her interested cha- 
 racter and her cupidity, that prominent feature* of 
 it with which he was acquainted, he bethought him- 
 self of opening the door with the key that never 
 finds any door closed. He therefore began to 
 make Madame Beauharnais presents which suited 
 her courtesan's taste in matters of dress and 
 jewellery. Not only did he give her shawls and 
 expensive and elegant jewellery, but diamonds of 
 considerable value. This would have constituted 
 
262 Napoleon, 
 
 an act of madness had it not been one of specula- 
 tion. Something of this came to my ears, so 
 censuring the young man, however amiable a per- 
 sonage he might be, for subjecting himself to the 
 necessity of beginning by paying an old woman, 
 I said to Bonaparte, ' It seems that you have 
 taken La Beauharnais for one of the soldiers of the 
 thirteenth Vendemiaire, whom you should have 
 included in the distribution of money. You would 
 have done better to have sent this money to your 
 family, which needs it, and to whom I have just 
 rendered further assistance.' Bonaparte blushed, 
 but did not deny having made presents of con- 
 siderable value. As I was bantering him about his 
 generosity, wherein I pretended to see the effects 
 of a boundless passion, he himself began to laugh, 
 and said to me, ' I have not made presents to my 
 mistress ; I have not sought to seduce a virgin ; I 
 am one of those who prefer love ready made than 
 to make it myself. . . . Well, then, in whichever 
 of these states Madame Beauharnais may be, if 
 the relations between us were really serious, if the 
 presents which you blame me for having made were 
 wedding presents, what, then, would you have to 
 find fault with, citizen Director ? " This woman 
 whom you accuse," said Tallien, after the ninth 
 Thermidor, " this woman is mine ! " I do not in- 
 tend to give you absolutely the same answer just 
 now, but I might say to you, Were this woman to 
 become mine, what would be the objection ? ' 'I 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 263 
 
 have no objection to make ; still, it is a matter 
 deserving some thought.' At the time of the siege 
 of Toulon, 'theeing and thouing' had taken 
 the place of you, from the soldier to the general 
 and from the general to the soldier. Hence it 
 was that I had acquired the habit of ' theeing 
 ;and thouing ' Bonaparte. I said to Bonaparte as 
 familiarly as heretofore : ' Is it seriously meant, 
 what thou hast just told me ? I have just thought 
 over thy idea of marriage, and it seems less ridi- 
 culous to me than at first sight/ 'In the first 
 place, Madame Beauharnais is rich/ answered Bona- 
 parte with vehemence. He had been deceived by 
 the lady's external luxury, ignorant of the fact 
 that the unfortunate creature depended for her 
 existence on loans contracted in Paris on the 
 imaginary credit of property in Martinique, 
 which she was far from possessing, since her 
 mother still lived ; and, as the latter troubled 
 herself very little about her daughter, whose 
 dissoluteness she was acquainted with, she con- 
 tented herself with sending her a meagre allow- 
 ance, which she had of late cut down and even 
 suspended remitting, owing to a series of poor 
 harvests. The widow Beauharnais lived at Fon- 
 tainebleau in a state bordering on misery. The 
 greater part of the year she quartered herself on 
 Madame Doue, a Creole like herself, without whose 
 relief she would have lacked the first necessaries. 
 She would come to Paris by the public stage- 
 
264 Napoleon. 
 
 coach (petites voitures), her daughter Hortense was 
 apprenticed to a dressmaker, and her son to a 
 carpenter; this was either very philosophical or 
 very unmotherly of her, since she could find means 
 for her toilette, which, at all periods, was ever 
 that of a courtesan. ' Well/ said I to Bonaparte, 
 ' since you are seriously asking my advice, I will 
 answer you in your own words ; why should you 
 not ? Your brother Joseph has shown you the 
 
 way to marriage ; the X dowry has put an 
 
 end to his financial straits. You tell me that you 
 are at your wits' end for money, and that you 
 cannot afford to lose any more time over the 
 matter; well, then, marry; a married man has a 
 standing in society, and can better resist the 
 attacks of his enemies ; you think you have many 
 of them amongst the Corsicans ; if you have luck 
 you will make friends of them, beginning with 
 Saliceti, whom you dread. There is nothing like 
 success to win over everybody to one's side.' " 
 
 XII. 
 
 JOSEPHINE'S TEARS. 
 
 THE next passage I shall quote has a cer- 
 tain comic force that almost relieves its black- 
 guardism : 
 
 " A few days later it was Madame Beauharnais* 
 turn to come and confide in me. Actuated as 
 she was by motives of interest, she did not display 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 265 
 
 any reserve in confessing them to me at the very 
 outset of her visit ; she began by laying down in 
 most plain terms that no impulse of the heart was 
 at the bottom of this new bond ; that the little 
 ' puss in boots ' is assuredly the very last she could 
 have dreamed of loving, as he had no expectations, 
 'He belongs to a family of beggars,' she said, 
 'which has failed to win respect wherever it has 
 dwelt ; but he has a brother who has married well 
 at Marseilles, who promises to help the others, 
 and him. He seems enterprising, and guarantees 
 he will soon carve his fortune.' Madame Beau- 
 harnais confesses to me that he has made her 
 presents of a magnificence which has led her to 
 believe that he is possessed of greater means than 
 people wot of. ' As regards myself/ she says to 
 me, ( I have not seen fit to inform him of my 
 straitened circumstances ; he believes I am now in 
 the enjoyment of a certain fortune, and is under 
 the impression that I have great expectations over 
 in Martinique. Do not impart to him anything 
 you know, my good friend ; you would be spoiling 
 everything. Since I do not love him, you can 
 understand my going into the business ; 'tis you I 
 will ever love, you may depend on it. Rose will 
 always be yours, ever at your disposal, you have 
 only to make a sign ; but I know full well that 
 you no longer love me,' she proceeded, suddenly 
 bursting into tears, which she had the power of 
 summoning at pleasure ; ' this is what grieves me 
 
266 Napoleon. 
 
 most ; never will I console myself for it, do what 
 I may. When one has loved a man like you, 
 Barras, can one ever know another attachment ? ' 
 * How about Hoche ? ' I replied with very little 
 emotion, and almost laughing ; ' you loved him 
 above all others, and yet there was the aide-de- 
 camp, Vanakre, e tutti quanti ! . . . Come now, 
 you are a mighty fine cajoler.' This was the 
 mildest and truest word that could be spoken to 
 her; to cajole all who came in contact with her 
 was the trade of Madame Beauharnais, a veritable 
 chevalier (Tindustrie, so to speak, in town and at 
 Court, from the day she had been imported from 
 her island of Martinique into France. My answer 
 took her breath away, and unable to utter any 
 reply in the face of such positive facts, she con- 
 tented herself with shedding some more tears, 
 seizing my hands with all her might, and carrying 
 them to her eyes, so as to bedew them with her 
 tears. I was getting tired of this scene, and, 
 not knowing how to put an end to it, I adopted 
 the course of ringing, so as to have my valet as a 
 third party. This compelled her to cease ; Madame 
 Beauharnais was a true actress, who knew how to 
 play several parts at one and the same time. She 
 told my valet that she had suddenly felt poorly, 
 that her nerves troubled her, and that on such 
 occasions she could not hold back her tears ; that 
 I had just ministered to her as a brother would to 
 his sister, and that she now felt a great deal better. 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 267 
 
 I took advantage of this improvement to order my 
 carriage, to send Madame Beauharnais home in it, 
 and thus I was rid of her. ' In your indisposed 
 state you cannot return home alone/ I said to her. 
 I ordered one of my aides-de-camp to accompany 
 her. Her tears had suddenly dried up ; her 
 features so discomposed but a moment ago had 
 resumed their placidity and pretty ways, and their 
 habitual coquettishness. On returning my aide- 
 de-camp told that the lady reached her house in 
 excellent health. A few sighs had escaped her 
 during the drive homeward, and the only words 
 spoken by her had been, ' Why do people have a 
 heart over which they have no control ? Why did 
 I ever love a man like Barras ? How can I cease 
 loving him ? How can I tear myself from him ? 
 How can I think of any other but him ? Tell him 
 from me, I entreat you, how deeply I am devoted 
 to him ; that I will never love but him, whatever 
 happens to me in this world. . . .' My aide-de- 
 camp further informed me that just as the carriage 
 reached Madame Beauharnais' house, Bonaparte 
 was there waiting for her at the door. Embarrassed 
 at being accompanied by my aide-de-camp, Madame 
 Beauharnais hurriedly steps out of the carriage, 
 asks Bonaparte to give her his arm, and tells him 
 hastily in the presence of my aide-de-camp, whom 
 she called to witness, that she had just 'had a 
 fainting fit at my house ; that she had so suffered 
 that I would not hear of her returning home alone, 
 
268 Napoleon. 
 
 and that she had hardly recovered her strength. 
 Give Barras my best thanks,' she adds, on dismis- 
 sing my aide-de-camp, ' and tell him that you left 
 me with his best friend.' " 
 
 XIII. 
 HER STORY TO NAPOLEON. 
 
 I PASS on to some scenes that are so atrocious in 
 language and in thought that I have hesitated for 
 a long time whether I should have them or not ; 
 but, after all, the characters of Napoleon and 
 Josephine have passed into history, and there is no 
 room left for any reticence about them. And I 
 believe they will injure most their author : 
 
 " My best friend was there waiting impatiently 
 to learn the result of the step he had been the first 
 to advise. Everything had been fully concerted 
 between the pair, but each of them was vying in 
 deceiving the other with astounding readiness. 
 The following is an illustration of the way in 
 which they played their farce. As a consequence 
 of having told Bonaparte of her alleged indisposi- 
 tion, it was necessary to give some reason for this 
 indisposition to the man who was about to become 
 her protector for life. I heard some time after- 
 wards of the story the cajoling courtesan had 
 invented. According to her I had a long while 
 courted her without success ; she had constantly 
 repulsed my advances because I was not the man 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 269 
 
 to appeal to her so delicate soul. In consequence 
 of her harsh treatment of me I had sought to 
 console myself with Madame Tallien, whom I had 
 selected out of spite only, remaining attached to 
 her out of amour propre alone ; and I so little 
 cared for her, she went on to say, that I had 
 offered to give her up at once for Madame Beau- 
 harnais, if the latter would become my mistress ; 
 were she to be believed I had been more pressing 
 than ever on this last occasion, and my violence 
 had led to a struggle during the course of which 
 she had fainted ; but the recollection of the one 
 she loved, the mere thought of Bonaparte, had 
 restored all her strength to her, and she had come 
 out victorious, desirous of bringing to the near 
 bond to which she had given her consent all the 
 purity of a widow faithful to the memory of her 
 husband, and a virginity often more precious than 
 the first, since it represents a resolution of the 
 heart and the will of reason. Bonaparte listened, 
 with no small emotion, to this lying concoction, 
 worthy, indeed, of the most artful of women, but 
 whom he, artful as he was himself, looked upon as 
 an angel of candour and truth. All this made 
 such an impression on him that he flew into a 
 passion against me, ready in his fury to go to 
 extremes, even to call me out for having attempted 
 an assault on the virtue of his future wife. Madame 
 Beauharnais quieted him with caresses and words, 
 which plainly showed that she dreaded nothing so 
 
270 Napoleon. 
 
 much as a scandal which would have revealed the 
 secret of the comedy played by her, and proved, 
 besides, that so far from my seeking to do violence 
 to Madame Beauharnais, I was long since tired of 
 and bored with her. ' I am quite sure,' said Bonaparte 
 to her, ' from what you tell me, that Barras failed 
 in his attempts on your virtue, madame, in spite 
 of his not having the reputation of a sentimental 
 lover in the habit of sighing at the feet of cruel 
 beauties. But I have for so long seen you on a 
 certain intimate footing with him that doubts 
 might truly have arisen in any other mind than 
 mine ; you will admit, madame, that it is allow- 
 able to think, without showing oneself too severe, 
 that women seeking to hold him at arm's length 
 should at least take earlier steps, so as not to be 
 exposed to a scene like the one you have just told 
 me of. There are accidents for which a woman is 
 responsible when she has not taken means to 
 prevent them.' It would be thought that Madame 
 Beauharnais would have been abashed by such 
 excellent reasoning, but it will be seen what ruses 
 were at the service of the courtesan. ' Why/ she 
 argued, ' had she not called at Barras' house would 
 she have been fortunate enough to meet Bona- 
 parte ? If she had of late gone there more fre- 
 quently than before, had it not always been from 
 a desire to meet him more often? If she had 
 perchance overlooked many things repugnant to 
 the elegance and delicacy of her morals, would she 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 271 
 
 ever have done so had it not been for the conside- 
 ration, ever present to her mind, of rendering some 
 service to her future husband ? For, when all is 
 said and done, if Barras' manners are somewhat 
 rough and outspoken, he is, on the other hand, a 
 good sort of fellow, and very obliging ; he is a true 
 friend, and if once he takes an interest in you, you 
 may feel sure he will not desert you, but give you 
 a warm support. Let us, therefore, take men and 
 things as we find them. Can Barras be useful to 
 us in his position ? Undoubtedly he can, and to 
 good purpose. Let us, therefore, get all we can 
 out of him, and never mind the rest ! ' ' Oh/ 
 exclaimed Bonaparte with enthusiasm, ' if he will 
 but give me the command of the Army of Italy I 
 will forgive everything. I will be the first to show 
 myself the most grateful of men ; I will do honour 
 to the appointment, and our affairs will prosper ; 
 I guarantee that ere long we shall be rolling in 
 gold/ Later on, taking a higher stand-point, 
 Bonaparte has called this glory. But ' gold ' was 
 the nai've expression uttered in the presence of the 
 woman he considered a meet person to become 
 his partner in life ; quite independently of his 
 personal need and desire of making a fortune, the 
 artful Corsican had guessed aright that the means 
 of winning Josephine was money. He had begun 
 his success by giving her presents ; this success was 
 assured when he promised that he would make 
 her 'roll in gold were he but commander-in- 
 
272 Napoleon. 
 
 chief/ 'Let us work together,' they thereupon 
 said mutually ; ( let us keep our secret to our- 
 selves, act together, and do our best to obtain the 
 appointment promptly.' " 
 
 XIV. 
 BARRAS'S MOST DEADLY CHARGE. 
 
 BARRAS proceeds to give another scene in which 
 the statements are even more detestable and 
 shocking. His statements amount to this : that 
 Josephine, accompanied by Napoleon, came to 
 see Barras, penetrated into his cabinet, and there 
 invited her own dishonour. And this is followed 
 by the even more atrocious suggestion that Na- 
 poleon not only knew, but approved this hideous 
 traffic for the sake of getting the command in 
 Italy. This is the deadliest of all the charges 
 Barras makes against Napoleon ; is it true ? 
 
 I have not a high opinion of the morality of 
 Napoleon, or of any of his family, but I do not 
 believe this charge. It is possible that Josephine 
 was frail it is the almost universal belief that she 
 was ; but I believe the evidence shows that at this 
 moment at least, in his life, Napoleon was really 
 in love with her. I will give later on the love- 
 letters in which Napoleon poured forth from Italy 
 all the passion and tenderness which this woman 
 inspired in him a passion and tenderness largely 
 due, probably, to the fact that she was the first 
 
Napoleon's Chief Detractor. 273 
 
 lady he had ever met in the course of his squalid 
 and poverty-stricken youth. It is not in the least 
 likely that Napoleon would have consented to 
 buy even a prize so lofty as the command in Italy 
 at the price of that woman's honour. 
 
 And, indeed, Barras is contradictory of his 
 own story. In one page Napoleon figures as a 
 dupe, in the next as a conscious intriguer; now 
 he is madly jealous ; the next moment he is more 
 indifferent to the acts of his future wife than the 
 beast in the field. 
 
 I agree with the summary of this part of the 
 case which I find in the preface by M. Duruy, 
 the unwilling editor of these Memoirs. It appears 
 to me as true, kind, and judicious. 
 
 " True, Bonaparte may have later entertained 
 doubts, suspicions as to Josephine's virtue. And, 
 indeed, it must be confessed that the indiscretions 
 of this most charming, but also most frivolous, of 
 women, furnished matter enough for grievous 
 discoveries. Look at her portrait by Isabey, 
 which dates precisely from that period. This 
 bird-like head, all dishevelled, expresses coquetry, 
 thoughtlessness, an undefinable frailty and incon- 
 sistency, characteristic, perhaps, even then, as it 
 had been in the past, of her virtue. It is none the 
 less a certainty that Bonaparte believed in her, 
 and loved her ardently and blindly ; that passion 
 alone made him wish for and resolve upon this 
 marriage; and that, if any one calculated in 
 
 T 
 
274 Napoleon. 
 
 this affair, it might possibly have been Josephine, 
 but at all events it was not the man of genius, 
 desperately smitten, smitten ' like a fool/ who 
 was dying with love at the feet of this pretty 
 doll." 
 
 I have sufficiently indicated my opinion of 
 Barras, He was undoubtedly one of the greatest 
 men of his time, but it was a greatness founded 
 on utter baseness. The vindication which he has 
 published of himself only tends to confirm the 
 impression which posterity was inclined to form 
 of him with the materials already at its disposal. 
 It is curious that a man should, under his own 
 hand, have supplied the evidence by which con- 
 jecture should be turned into certainty, suspicion 
 into unquestioning conviction. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 JOSEPHINE.* 
 
 THE memoirs of Barras leave so bad a taste in 
 the mouth that it is necessary to seek some violent 
 relief; and my next essays will be taken from the 
 writings of those whose admiration for him was 
 unstinted. 
 
 With the first of the volumes which supply the 
 material for this portion of the volume, I shall 
 have to deal briefly. The Count de Segur is very 
 interesting, especially to military readers, but he 
 goes over ground which I have already traversed. 
 
 The volume is mainly interesting as an anti- 
 dote to the " Memoirs of Madame de Remusat," 
 whose pictures of Napoleon's personality and 
 Court supplied Taine with the chief material for 
 his indictment. 
 
 The reader will not have forgotten the truly 
 
 * " An Aide-de-Camp of Napoleon : Memoirs of General 
 Count de Sdgur." Translated by H. A. Patchett Martin. 
 (London : Hutchinson.) " Napoleon and the Fair Sex." 
 Translated from the French of Frederic Masson. (London : 
 Heinemann.) " The Private Life of Napoleon." Translated 
 from the French of Arthur Levy. (London : Bentley.) 
 
 T 2 
 
276 Napoleon. 
 
 odious picture of Napoleon's Court which I 
 quoted from Taine. I put in contrast with this 
 the picture which is drawn by M. de Segur.. 
 Writing of 1802, M. de Segur exclaims: "No 
 epoch was more glorious for Paris. What a 
 happy and glorious time! The whole year has 
 left on my memory the impression of a realisation 
 of the most brilliant Utopias, a spectacle of the 
 finest galas, and that of a grand society restored 
 to all good things by the presiding genius." 
 
 And then he goes on to give this interesting 
 and agreeable picture of Napoleon at home : 
 
 " The First Consul in his more personal sur- 
 roundings had initiated many ingenious amuse- 
 ments, and given the signal for an almost universal 
 joy. 
 
 "True, his household was divided into two 
 parties, but kept in check by the firmness of their 
 chief, they remained in the shade. These were, 
 on one hand, the Beauharnais ; on the other, 
 Napoleon's own family. The marriage of Louis 
 Bonaparte with Hortense de Beauharnais on July 
 1 7th, 1802, appeared to have put an end to these 
 differences, so that peace seemed to pervade 
 everything, a domestic peace which was not one 
 whit more durable than the other peaces of this 
 epoch. But at first this alliance, and several other 
 marriages amongst the younger members of Na- 
 poleon's family, increased the general cheerful 
 disposition of mind by the addition of their honey- 
 
Josephine. 277 
 
 moon happiness. The well-known attractions and 
 wit of the sisters of the First Consul, the many 
 graces of Madame Bonaparte and her daughter, 
 and the remarkable beauty of the young brides 
 who had just been admitted into this fascinating 
 circle, above all the presence of a real hero, gave 
 an indefinable charm and lustre to this new. Court, 
 as yet unfettered by etiquette, or any other tie 
 than the former traditions of good society. 
 
 " Our morning amusements at Malmaison con- 
 sisted of country-house diversions in which Na- 
 poleon used to take part, and in the evening of 
 various games, and of conversations, sometimes 
 light and sparkling, sometimes profound and 
 serious, of which I still find records in my note- 
 book. The Revolution, philosophy, above all, the 
 East, were the favourite topics of the First Consul. 
 How often, as night drew on, even the most 
 youthful amongst these young women, losing all 
 count of time, would fancy they could see what 
 he was describing, under the charm of his admi- 
 rable narratives, so vividly coloured by a flow of 
 bold and novel illustration, and his piquant and 
 unexpected imagery." 
 
 The reader will also remember the passage in 
 which Taine describes the infectious weariness of 
 Napoleon at the play. Segur has a different story 
 to tell : 
 
 " The other amusements of his household con- 
 sisted in private theatricals, in which his adopted 
 
278 Napoleon. 
 
 children and ourselves took part. He sometimes 
 would encourage us by looking on at our re- 
 hearsals, which were superintended by the cele- 
 brated actors, Michaud, Mole, and Fleury. The 
 performances took place at Malmaison before a 
 select party. They would be followed by concerts, 
 of Italian songs principally, and often by little 
 dances where there was no crowding or confusion, 
 consisting, as they did, of three or four quadrille 
 sets with plenty of space between each. He 
 would himself dance gaily with us, and would 
 ask for old-fashioned tunes, recalling his own 
 youth. These delightful evenings used to end 
 about midnight." 
 
 There is an anecdote which presents Napoleon 
 in a pleasant light : 
 
 " One evening, at St. Cloud, when he was 
 describing the desert, Egypt, and the defeat of 
 the Mamelukes, seeing me hanging on his words, 
 he stopped short, and taking up from the card- 
 table, which he had just left, a silver marker a 
 medal representing the combat of the Pyramids 
 he said to me, ' You were not there in those days, 
 young man/ ( Alas, no/ I answered. 'Well,' said 
 he, 'take this and keep it as a remembrance/ I 
 need hardly say that I religiously did so, the proof 
 of which will be found by my children after me." 
 
 And, finally, here is Segur's summary of Na- 
 poleon's demeanour to his dependents, illustrated 
 by quite a pretty story : 
 
Josephine. 279 
 
 " Such was his usual amenity, concerning 
 which I remember that one day when our out- 
 bursts of laughter in the drawing-room were 
 interrupting his work in the adjoining study, he 
 just opened the door to complain that we were 
 hindering him, with a gentle request that we 
 should be a little less noisy." 
 
 There are many passages in S6gur which show 
 the Marshals of Napoleon in a far from favour- 
 able light Their ambition, their selfishness, their 
 murderous jealousy of each other, shock and appal 
 especially when one sees thousands of the lives 
 of brave men sacrificed to passions so ignoble. 
 These pictures also enable one to take a different 
 view of Napoleon's treatment of these men than 
 that to which Taine has given such fierce expres- 
 sion. It will be remembered that Taine bitterly 
 complains that Napoleon appealed only to the 
 basest elements in these men ; that he exploited 
 their selfishness, their ambition, their vices, and 
 their weaknesses. After one has read S^gur and 
 some other authorities, one is tempted to come to 
 the conclusion that if Napoleon acted on these 
 motives in his subordinates, it was because these 
 motives were the only ones to which he could 
 appeal. 
 
 I pass from this point and from Se*gur to 
 another and an even more fervid eulogist of the 
 great Emperor. 
 
 M. Albert Levy devotes two bulky volumes to 
 
280 Napoleon. 
 
 the record of the smallest incidents of Napoleon's 
 life, with extracts from not scores but hundreds of 
 memoirs in which he forms the central figure ; and 
 this work evidently the result of years of patient 
 labour is devoted to proving that of all men who 
 have lived Napoleon was the most generous, the 
 most unselfish, and the most patriotic. 
 
 I cannot accept this estimate ; but in the pages 
 of M. Levy's intensely interesting volumes there 
 is the satisfaction of feeling that Napoleon is 
 restored to something of human shape. He is 
 there neither god, nor demon, nor angel though 
 M. Levy would have him angelic but a human 
 being, with plenty of human weaknesses, affec- 
 tions, and even considerateness, athwart all his 
 iron strength, callousness, and voracious ambition. 
 
 EARLY YEARS. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S early years were, as we already 
 know, full of all the straits and miseries of genteel 
 poverty. His father, as everybody knows, was an 
 easy-going, thriftless, helpless creature, who died 
 at an early age of cancer in the stomach the only 
 heritage, as Taine sardonically remarks, which he 
 left to his great son. It was from his mother that 
 Napoleon inherited most of his qualities. She 
 came of a commercial family, partly Swiss in 
 origin, and at an age " when most girls are think- 
 
Josephine. 281 
 
 ing of marriage she was studying order, economy, 
 and careful management/' It was from her that 
 Napoleon inherited what M. Levy calls "those 
 instincts of honesty, of excessive carefulness in all 
 matters in which money plays a part, which is one 
 of the most characteristic features of Napoleon." 
 
 The education of the children was the first 
 point to be determined. In those days anybody 
 with influence with the clergy or at the Court 
 could get a free education, and young Napoleon, 
 having the first, was enabled in this way to get 
 into the Royal College at Brienne, where boys 
 were trained for the Navy. He had first, however, 
 to spend some time at Autun to learn French so 
 thoroughly Italian was the man who became after- 
 wards the most absolute ruler of Frenchmen the 
 world has seen. In three months at Autun Na- 
 poleon had "learned sufficient French to enable 
 him to converse easily and to write small essays 
 and translations." At Brienne there were many 
 things to make him unhappy : his foreign birth, 
 his foreign accent, doubtless his foreign mistakes; 
 but, above all things, his poverty. Even at school 
 the inequalities of life make themselves bitterly 
 felt; and Napoleon, with all his pride, love of 
 command, and sensitiveness to slights, must have 
 suffered more than most boys. 
 
 "At Brienne," he writes afterwards himself, 
 " I was the poorest of all my schoolfellows. They 
 always had money in their pockets, I never. I 
 
282 Napoleon. 
 
 was proud, and was most careful that nobody 
 should perceive this. ... I could neither laugh 
 nor amuse myself like the others." Bonaparte 
 the schoolboy was out of touch with his comrades, 
 and he was not popular. 
 
 It will be seen from this passage that Napoleon 
 was made early acquainted with those traits of 
 human nature which gave him his permanently 
 and instinctively low opinion of it, and which 
 helped to make him regard life as simply a per- 
 sonal struggle, where you destroy or are destroyed. 
 Napoleon was five years and a half in this school; 
 and, curiously enough, though he must really have 
 been unhappy, he saw it afterwards through the 
 gauze of retrospect as being very different. One 
 day, when he was First Consul, and was walking 
 with Bourrienne the one schoolfellow whom he 
 loved in Brienne in the gardens of Malmaison, 
 the residence of his office, he heard the chiming of 
 bells, which always had a remarkable effect upon 
 him ; he stopped, listened delightedly, and said in 
 a broken voice: "That reminds me of my first 
 years at Brienne ; I was happy then." M. Levy is 
 able to prove that the tenderness of these recol- 
 lections showed itself in another way also. Na- 
 poleon befriended nearly everybody who was ever 
 connected with the school unless they had treated 
 him badly. Napoleon was one of the worst writers 
 of his time. His script was undecipherable, even 
 to himself ; sometimes he found it hard to write 
 
Josephine. 283 
 
 his own name ; but old Dupre, who was his 
 writing-master, came to him once at St. Cloud 
 and reminded the Emperor as Napoleon then 
 was that "for fifteen months he had had the 
 pleasure of giving him lessons in writing at 
 Brienne." Napoleon could not help exclaiming 
 to the poor man, who was quite aghast : " And a 
 fine sort of pupil you had ! I congratulate you." 
 
 After a few kindly words he dismissed Dupre, 
 who received a few days later a notification of a 
 pension of one thousand two hundred francs (forty- 
 eight pounds). 
 
 ii. 
 
 IN THE ARTILLERY. 
 
 NAPOLEON was unable to get a place in the Navy, 
 for his influence was not sufficiently great ; so he 
 besought his family to try and get him into the 
 artillery or engineers. He was sent to the Military 
 School in Paris, and arrived there in 1784 that 
 starting-point of the great events that led the King 
 to the scaffold and himself to an Imperial throne. 
 The descriptions of the period show that he is like 
 most other new-comers to a great city. 
 
 He gaped at everything he saw, and stared 
 about him. His appearance was that of a man 
 whom any scoundrel would try to rob after seeing 
 him. 
 
 But even at that age he was then fifteen he 
 had the instincts of order and activity. There is 
 
284 Napoleon. 
 
 extant a letter written at that period, in which he 
 very cleverly criticises the luxury and the laxity 
 of the discipline which existed in the Military 
 School. He found that the pupils had a large 
 staff of servants, kept an expensive stud of horses 
 and a number of grooms ; and to his realistic and 
 practical mind all this was abomination. 
 
 "Would it not be better/' he exclaimed, "of 
 course without interrupting their studies, to compel 
 them to buy enough for their own wants, that is 
 to say, without compelling them to do their own 
 cooking, to let them eat soldiers' bread, or some- 
 thing similar, to accustom them to beat and brush 
 their own clothes, and to clean their own boots 
 and shoes ? " 
 
 In thus writing young Napoleon was describing 
 the things he had to do himself, then and after- 
 wards, for a long time. It was these hardships of 
 his childhood that helped to make him and to, at 
 the same time, mar his nature. 
 
 "All these cares spoiled my early years," he 
 himself said in 1811. " They influenced my temper 
 and made me grave before my time." 
 
 Unlike some of the boys around him, Napoleon 
 refused to run into debt. A friend of his family, 
 seeing him in low spirits, offered to lend him 
 money so as to be able to make a better show. 
 
 Napoleon grew very red and refused, saying : 
 " My mother has already too many expenses, and 
 I have no business to increase them by extrava- 
 
Josephine. 285 
 
 gances which are simply imposed upon me by the 
 stupid folly of my comrades." 
 
 At sixteen he passed his examination without 
 any particular distinction. He was forty-second 
 out of fifty-eight pupils who passed. His German 
 master's comment upon him at the time was that 
 " the pupil Bonaparte was nothing but a fool." 
 
 On September i, 1785, he was named Second 
 Lieutenant in the Bombardiers garrisoned at 
 Valence. His new uniform was in proportion to 
 the slenderness of his purpose. 
 
 His boots were so inordinately large that his 
 legs, which were very slender, disappeared in them 
 completely. Proud of his new outfit, he went off 
 to seek his friends, the Permons. On seeing him 
 the two children, Cecilia and Laura (the latter 
 was afterwards Duchesse d'Abrantes), could not 
 restrain their laughter, and to his face nick- 
 named him " Puss in Boots." He did not mind, it 
 appears, for, according to one of these little wits, 
 the lieutenant took them a few days later a toy 
 carriage containing a puss in boots, and Perrault's 
 fairy story. 
 
 in. 
 
 EARLY POVERTY. 
 
 AT Valence part of the journey to which Na- 
 poleon had to perform on foot from having spent 
 his money he had to live a very modest life. It 
 is said that he was " a great talker, embarking, on 
 
286 Napoleon. 
 
 the smallest provocation, into interminable argu- 
 ments ; " that he developed fc those powers of 
 pleasing which he possessed in a remarkable de- 
 gree ; " and applied himself, above all, " to pleasing 
 the fair sex, who received him with acclamation." 
 I doubt the correctness of this latter statement. 
 Throughout his entire life we have seen Napoleon 
 was gauche and constrained and dumb before 
 women ; his flirtation was of the barrack-room 
 grossness, directness, and simplicity horseplay 
 rather than play of wit. 
 
 He obtained leave of absence after the easy 
 fashion of those times, and visited his home in 
 Corsica. This visit must have left sad impressions, 
 for we can trace from that period the disappearance 
 of even the slight gaiety which was to be found in 
 his life at Valence. When he went into garrison 
 at Auxonne his new station he began that 
 ferocious system of work which he continued for 
 so many years afterwards. He never went out 
 except to a frugal dinner, and then he had to be 
 summoned, so absorbed was he in his studies. 
 Immediately dinner was over he went back to his 
 room. He lived most humbly. Milk was his 
 chief food. He himself, writing to his mother, said : 
 
 ' ' I have no resources here but work ; I only 
 dress myself once a week ; I sleep but very little 
 since my illness ; it is incredible. I go to bed at 
 ten o'clock, and get up at four in the morning. I 
 only eat one meal a day at three o'clock." 
 
Josephine. 287 
 
 But he broke down under the work, and had 
 once again to seek refuge in his Corsican home. 
 He returned to Auxonne after a longer vacation 
 than would have been possible with any but the 
 ill-disciplined troops of France. And now comes 
 a period of Napoleon's life which must always 
 stand out in his history, and cannot permit any 
 impartial person to regard him as a wholly selfish 
 man. He brought back with him his brother 
 Louis, and for some time supported this brother 
 and himself on his wretched pay. That pay 
 amounted to three pounds fifteen shillings a 
 month : 
 
 " The two brothers, therefore, had to lodge, 
 clothe, and feed themselves upon three francs five 
 centimes (two shillings and sixpence) a day; and, 
 moreover, Louis's education, which Napoleon had 
 undertaken, had to be provided for." 
 
 Even on these restricted means Napoleon was 
 able to live without getting into debt, but he had 
 to do it at the sacrifice of every comfort. It is 
 recorded that he cooked their broth with his own 
 hands, and broth formed the chief meal of the 
 day. Napoleon never forgot the privations of 
 this time, nor the lessons it taught. Louis was 
 afterwards as we know King of Holland, but, 
 like every other relative of Napoleon, made but 
 a poor requital to his illustrious relative. In rage 
 at one of these acts of Louis, Napoleon cried out : 
 
 " That Louis whom I educated out of my pay 
 
288 Napoleon. 
 
 as a sub-lieutenant, God knows at the price of 
 what privations ! Do you know how I managed 
 it ? It was by never setting foot in society or in a 
 cafe; by eating dry bread, and by brushing my 
 clothes myself, so that they should last longer." 
 
 An Imperial official once complained to him 
 that he could not live on a salary of forty pounds 
 a month. Said Napoleon : 
 
 st I know all about it, sir. . . . When I had 
 the honour to be a sub-lieutenant I breakfasted off 
 dry bread, but I bolted my door on my poverty. 
 In public I did not disgrace my comrades." 
 
 One proof of the scrupulousness of his 
 examination of his expenses is to be seen in a 
 tailor's bill, still extant, on which he had ob- 
 tained a reduction of twopence. 
 
 IV. 
 A YOUTHFUL CYNIC. 
 
 THE period between Napoleon's earliest military 
 days and his appearance at Toulon belongs to 
 Corsica rather than to France. He spent nearly 
 an entire year on furlough there. He was 
 reprimanded, and at one time seemed likely 
 permanently to lose his position in the regular 
 army. A biographer who does not love him 
 declares that he was guilty during this period 
 of crimes of insubordination and want of dis- 
 cipline enough to have shot him a hundred 
 
Josephine. 289 
 
 times over in ordinary times. It is certain that 
 he had to go to Paris to justify himself. Here, 
 again, he had to face the privations and humi- 
 liations of extreme poverty. He owed fifteen 
 francs to his wine merchant, and he had to pawn 
 his watch. Bourrienne, his old college chum- 
 afterwards his secretary thus describes Napoleon 
 at this period. 
 
 " Our friendship of childhood and college days," 
 says Bourrienne, " was as fresh as ever. I was not 
 very happy ; adversity weighed heavily upon him, 
 and he often wanted money. We passed our time 
 like two young men with nothing to do, and with 
 but little money he had even less than I. Every 
 day gave birth to some new plans; we were 
 always on the look-out for some useful speculation. 
 At one time he wanted to hire with me several 
 houses then being built in the Rue Montholon, 
 intending to make money by sub-letting them." 
 
 The two comrades often dined together, Bour- 
 rienne usually paying for the dinner at least so 
 Bourrienne says, though, as he became infamous 
 for avarice and peculation, the statement must be 
 taken with reserve. It is certain that sometimes 
 poor Napoleon had to dine at a restaurant where 
 a dish cost but a modest threepence. 
 
 While the future ruler of France was thus in the 
 depths, France herself was marching through the 
 terrific events that ended in the overthrow of the 
 monarchy. Napoleon was never a democrat, but 
 
 u 
 
290 Napoleon. 
 
 what little traces of democracy there might have 
 been in him were destroyed by what he then 
 saw. It is known that he saw the march on the 
 Tuileries on June 2Oth. When he saw the ragged 
 and fierce crowd going in the direction of the 
 Palace, " Let us follow these scoundrels," was his 
 comment. And when the poor King put on the 
 red cap he was equally disgusted. " Why did they 
 allow these brutes to come in ? They ought to 
 have shot down fifty or sixty of them with cannon, 
 and the rest would have run." 
 
 This youthful cynic has already weighed and 
 found wanting the men who are at the head of 
 affairs. " You know those who are at the head," 
 he writes to his brother Joseph, " are the poorest 
 of men. The people are equally contemptible 
 when one comes in contact with them. They are 
 hardly worth all the trouble men take to earn 
 their favour." " You know the history of Ajaccio," 
 he continues ; " that of Paris is exactly the same, 
 only that there, perhaps, men are more petted, 
 more spiteful, more censorious." And finally here 
 is his judgment of the French people as a whole 
 a judgment given, it will be observed, with the 
 detachment and with the calm contempt of a 
 foreigner : " The French people is an old people, 
 without prejudices, without bonds. Every one 
 seeks his own interest, and wishes to rise by 
 means of lying and calumny ; men intrigue more 
 contemptibly than ever." And finally, from this 
 
Josephine. 291 
 
 period, here is an extract worth giving it is 
 Napoleon's comment on a proclamation to the 
 Corsicans which had been written by his brother 
 Lucien : 
 
 " I have read your proclamation ; it is worth 
 nothing. It contains too many words and too 
 few ideas. You run after pathos ; that is not the 
 way to speak to nations." 
 
 Here already we see the final philosophy of 
 Napoleon. His view of human nature is low; 
 self-interest is the one guiding motive unchecked, 
 uncrossed, unmixed by other and higher im- 
 pulses; the people, when they attack constituted 
 authorities, are rabble to be shot down, and the 
 one art of government is to rule men through 
 their base passions. After all, the sternest critic 
 of Napoleon is himself; the portrait he draws 
 with his own hand, is very like that of M. Taine. 
 M. Levy if he wanted to make his hero a saint 
 should have omitted his hero's own letters. 
 
 v. 
 
 FLIGHT FROM CORSICA. 
 
 NAPOLEON was restored to his rank, and then he 
 rushed back home again still filled by that strong 
 sense of family obligation which may be dis- 
 tinctively Corsican as it is distinctively Irish 
 and making sacrifices at this period, as throughout 
 his life, for his relatives, which, as I have said 
 
 u 2 
 
292 Napoleon. 
 
 before, do not permit us to regard him as wholly 
 selfish. In Corsica he came into collision with Paoli 
 for Napoleon wished Corsica to remain French 
 and Paoli retorted by giving orders for the arrest 
 and expulsion of the Bonaparte family; and with 
 their property pillaged and burned behind them, 
 the large and poverty-stricken family fled from their 
 native island to Marseilles. In Marseilles Napo- 
 leon's pay was the chief support of the family; 
 this was supplemented by the public relief given to 
 distressed patriots who had suffered for the cause. 
 
 I pass rapidly over the episode at Toulon- 
 which first gave Napoleon prominence with the 
 observation that his action was not so highly 
 regarded at the time as at a subsequent date. 
 Bonaparte's name is scarcely mentioned in the 
 bulletins, but he succeeded, in those days of 
 improvised soldiers and quick promotions, in being 
 made a General of Brigade. 
 
 Then there is another interval, during a portion 
 of which he is imprisoned, and in some danger, 
 as everybody was in the days of the Terror ; and 
 finally he is called to Paris in order to take part 
 in the Vendean war. He is asked, however, to 
 descend from the artillery to the infantry; he 
 declines, and for some months he is in Paris 
 without employment, without money, without 
 much hope. All kinds of projects hovered before 
 his mind. There was an idea of his being sent to 
 Turkey to put the troops of the Grand Sultan in 
 
Josephine. 293 
 
 order; he tried to make money as an exporter of 
 books; he got his dinner either at the expense 
 of his friends in arms, or at the house of some 
 Corsicans; he was wretched bodily and mentally; 
 and his wretchedness appeared in his exterior and 
 in his manners. 
 
 " He was to be met wandering about the streets 
 of Paris in an awkward and ungainly manner, 
 with a shabby round hat thrust down over his eyes 
 and with his curls (known at that time as oreilles 
 de chieri] badly powdered, badly combed, and 
 falling over the collar of the iron-gray coat which 
 has since become so celebrated ; his hands, long, 
 thin, and black, without gloves, because, he said, 
 they were an unnecessary expense ; wearing ill- 
 made and ill-cleaned boots." "But his glance 
 and his smile were always admirable, and helped 
 to enliven an appearance always sickly, resulting 
 partly from the yellowness of his complexion, 
 which deepened the shadows projected by his 
 gaunt, angular, and pointed features." 
 
 And mentally he was in the same condition as 
 externally. Bourrienne and his wife meet him in 
 the Palais Royal ; together they go to the theatre. 
 " The audience was convulsed with laughter ; 
 Bonaparte and I was much struck by it 
 preserved an icy silence." 
 
 " Another time he disappeared from us without 
 saying a word, and when we thought he must 
 have left the theatre, we espied him seated in a 
 
294 Napoleon. 
 
 box on the second or third tier, all alone, looking: 
 as though he wished to sulk." 
 
 The fact, of course, is that Napoleon was 
 consumed by all that volcanic activity which was 
 to burst forth very soon in such lava tide; and 
 neither then nor at any other time has he the 
 power of idling gracefully. Either he is in fierce 
 activity or he mopes and despairs. 
 
 VI. 
 A FIRST CHANCE. 
 
 AND then all these periods of gloomy and despondent 
 expectation are put an end to, after the anarchic 
 and unaccountable manner of human affairs, by a 
 slight chance acquaintance. M. de Pontecoulant, 
 when he was appointed a member of the War 
 Committee of the Committee of Public Safety, 
 found things in dreadful disorder, and did not 
 know where to turn, and a chance conversation 
 with M. Boissy d'Anglas elicited this remark : 
 
 " I met yesterday a general on half-pay. He 
 has come back from the Campaign of Italy, and 
 seemed to know all about it. He might give you 
 some good advice." 
 
 " Send him to me," said M. Pontecoulant ; and 
 the next day there came to the Minister on the 
 sixth floor where he had his office " the leanest 
 and most miserable-looking creature he had ever 
 seen in his life " a young man, with a wan and 
 
Josephine. 295 
 
 livid complexion, bowed shoulders and sickly 
 appearance. Bonaparte was a name so strange 
 and so unknown that the War Minister could not 
 remember it ; but when the young man spoke, he 
 recognised the acquaintance of Boissy d'Anglas. 
 Bonaparte was told to draw up a memorandum 
 setting forth the views he had expressed verbally ; 
 but he went out, and thinking this a polite dis- 
 missal, sent no memorandum. But he was induced 
 to present his ideas, and got work in the War Office 
 as a sort of secretary to the Minister. But even 
 this position he did not long retain. He asked 
 for the command of a brigade, a demand which 
 at five-and-twenty struck the superior powers as 
 audacious; and when Pontecoulant retired from 
 office, Napoleon was again without employment. 
 
 And finally he had to seek promotion through 
 the lady who, in even virtuous Republican days, 
 played the part of the Pompadour or the Du 
 Barry with the monarchs Madame Tallien, the 
 mistress of Barras. The reader has heard so 
 much of this episode already that I need not 
 recapitulate it. 
 
 There I leave M. Levy for the moment, and 
 pass to another eulogist of Napoleon, who is even 
 more lifelike in his description of this period in 
 his hero's life. 
 
 The work of M. Frederic Masson deals entirely 
 with one side of Napoleon's life and character 
 .his relations, namely, to women. The book has 
 
296 Napoleon. 
 
 an outspokenness that may prove a little, trying 
 even to an age that has grown so much less 
 squeamish than it used to be. I should say at 
 once that M. Masson is a devoted and almost 
 blind worshipper of the central figure of his book ; 
 and that if one were to believe the picture which 
 he presents I am sure in perfect good faith one 
 would be obliged to regard Napoleon as one of 
 the gentlest, sweetest, and most amiable men. 
 His faults would be an excess instead of a defect 
 of sensibility. Of that other side of Napoleon 
 which we know from many pages in his relations 
 to women, M. Masson gives us not even a trace. 
 
 Let us take M. Masson's very interesting and 
 very industriously compiled volume as we find it ; 
 if we cannot accept his conclusions or his portrait, 
 at least let us be grateful to the superabundance 
 of material for forming our own conclusions and 
 our own image which his marvellous industry has 
 placed at our disposal. 
 
 In spite of all I have already written about 
 Josephine, I make no apology for quoting largely 
 from M. Masson's description of her. 
 
 There is an everlasting fascination about the 
 story of her life with that strange and marvellous 
 creature whom she married. Even her defects of 
 character lend an additional interest to the sub- 
 ject; a woman quiet, decorous, certain, stable, 
 would have been a much worthier person, and, 
 perchance, would have made Napoleon much 
 
Josephine. 297 
 
 more tranquil in his mind ; but neither on him nor 
 on us could she have exercised the same continual 
 fascination as this wayward, fickle, frail Creole, 
 that still smiles out upon us with her empty and 
 kindly look from the grave on which the grass 
 has been growing for little short of a century ! 
 
 It is one of the many proofs of the fascination 
 which the story exercises on the French mind that 
 every detail of her life, of her courtship and her 
 union with Napoleon, is known and recorded with 
 such extraordinary care. Take this volume which 
 lies before me. I declare that I read the account 
 M. Frederic Masson gives of the first interview 
 between Napoleon and Josephine de Beauharnais, 
 as though it were something that had occurred but 
 yesterday j and as though I were standing and 
 looking on at the whole scene between the two, at 
 their half-stammered words, their exchange of 
 half-timid, half-searching glances, at the very 
 furniture in the rooms ; and this love scene took 
 place a hundred years ago ! The passages in the 
 book which deal with the episode are a marvellous 
 instance of the power which a good writer, with 
 his facts and details ample and well arranged, can 
 exercise in realising for himself and for you a 
 long-forgotten and long- dead scene. 
 
298 Napoleon. 
 
 VII. 
 HE. 
 
 THERE are various and conflicting accounts of the 
 events which led to Napoleon's first acquaintance 
 with Josephine. The story usually told is that a 
 short time after he had put down the attack on 
 the Convention, Napoleon was visited by a young 
 man who begged to be excused from obeying a 
 decree which the victorious General had just pub- 
 lished the decree ordering the disarmament of 
 the civil population. The youth remarks that the 
 sword which he desires to preserve had belonged 
 to his father, and as he mentions the father's 
 name Napoleon realises how different is his posi- 
 tion from that of a few months ago, when he was 
 pawning his sword and half starving, or picking 
 up meals by taking "pot-luck" at the houses of 
 old friends, not much richer than himself. For 
 the youth was the son of Viscount Beauharnais, 
 and Viscount Beauharnais was a nobleman of 
 ancient descent; had even been, like Mirabeau and 
 other fathers of the Revolution, once President of 
 the great Constituent Assembly which had made 
 the Revolution ; had been Commander-in-Chief of 
 one of the armies of the Republic; and, finally, 
 after the manner of such highly-distinguished 
 aristocrats in those days, had been guillotined. 
 Napoleon is interested and flattered by the request 
 of the lad, grants it quite cordially, and a few 
 
Josephine. 299 
 
 days afterwards a lady comes to offer him her 
 thanks it is Josephine de Beauharnais, the mother 
 of the boy. 
 
 For the first time this rustic of twenty-six 
 years, who knows only the revolutionary armies, 
 to whom no woman has ever paid any particular 
 attention, sees before him one of those beautiful, 
 elegant, and attractive women whom hitherto he 
 has only seen from the distance of the pit of a 
 theatre, and he finds himself in the position which 
 most flatters his pride that of offering protec- 
 tion ; and with this role, which he plays for the 
 first time, he is delighted beyond all words. 
 
 VIII. 
 SHE. 
 
 JOSEPHINE, on the other hand, was at this moment 
 in desperate case. She had narrowly escaped 
 guillotining, as everybody knows, by the overthrow 
 of Robespierre; released from prison she found 
 herself a widow of more than thirty years, with two 
 children, and with scarcely anything left from the 
 ruin of her fortune. A Creole, unable at any 
 period of her life to take any account of money, 
 extravagant, fond of elegance, dress and pleasure, 
 there is nothing for her but to beg for money 
 from her relatives in far Martinique ; to borrow 
 some from those nearer home; to borrow from 
 others who are not friends; and above all, to 
 
3OO Napoleon. 
 
 make debts in confidence in the future which in 
 those strange days offered all kinds of possibilities 
 to pretty and elegant women. All the large 
 fortune of her husband in land had been con- 
 fiscated when he was executed ; her own fortune 
 had existed rather on paper than in solid coin of 
 the realm; her father was dead, her mother was 
 very poor; and the English, in any case, had 
 blockaded the island and stood between her and 
 remittances. Even the furniture of her house had 
 been pledged; in short, poor Josephine at this 
 moment was at the very end of her tether. This 
 was her position when the following scene took 
 place. I trust the vividness of the description 
 will make as profound an impression on others as 
 it does on me. 
 
 IX. 
 
 BONAPARTE KNOCKS. 
 
 "JUST then, to return the visit he had received 
 from the Viscountess de Beauharnais, General 
 Bonaparte rings at the entrance gate of the 
 mansion in the Rue Chantereine. He does not 
 know that the house belongs to Citizeness Talma, 
 who, while she was Demoiselle Julie, got it from 
 a man whose mistress she was. He does not see 
 that the house, with one hundred metres of 
 grounds, situated in a remote quarter, just at the 
 extremity of Paris, a couple of steps from the Rue 
 Saint-Lazaire, surrounded even still by gardens, 
 
Josephine. 301 
 
 is hardly worth fifty thousand francs the price 
 paid in 1781, and the price which will be again 
 paid in 1796. 
 
 "The door being opened by the concierge, for 
 there is a concierge, the General goes through a sort 
 of long passage; at one side he sees the stable with 
 two black horses, going on seven years old, and 
 a red cow; on the other, the coach-house, in 
 which there is but one shattered vehicle, is closed. 
 The passage leads into a garden. In the centre 
 stands the living room ; a ground floor with four 
 very high windows, and surrounded by a low attic. 
 The kitchen is under-ground. Bonaparte goes 
 up the four stone steps which turn to a sort of 
 simple balustraded terrace, and penetrates into 
 an antechamber sparsely furnished with a copper 
 fountain and low cupboard of oak, and a deal 
 press." 
 
 x. 
 
 THE ROOM. 
 
 "THE obliging Gonthier introduces him into a 
 little apartment, a dining-room, where, near the 
 round mahogany table, he could sit down on one of 
 the four black horse-hair chairs, unless he prefers 
 to look at some engravings on the wall, framed in 
 black and gold. Not much luxury, but here and 
 there tables and consoles of mahogany and rose- 
 wood with marble supports and gilt ornamenta- 
 tion, give tokens of former elegance, and in the 
 
3O2 Napoleon. 
 
 two large glass presses built into the wall, a tea 
 urn, vessels, all the accessories of the table in 
 English electro-plate which does duty for silver- 
 plate. As for plate, in the true sense of the word, 
 there are in the house only fourteen spoons and 
 five forks, one soup spoon, six dessert spoons, and 
 eleven little coffee spoons. 
 
 " But he does not know that" 
 
 XI. 
 
 ENTER JOSEPHINE. 
 
 " JOSEPHINE, decked out by her lady's-maid, 
 Citizeness Louise Compoint, leaves her room and 
 hurries to the dining-room to greet this visitor 
 who is to lead to fortune ! She can hardly receive 
 him anywhere else, for the ground floor contains, 
 besides this dining-room, only a little drawing- 
 room which she has turned into a dressing-room, 
 and her own bedroom. This bedroom is pretty 
 but simple, with its upholstery of blue chintz, with 
 red and yellow tufts, its sofa, some tasteful articles 
 of furniture in mahogany and rosewood ; its only 
 artistic object is a little marble bust of Socrates, 
 standing near a harp, by Renaud. As for the 
 dressing-room, except a grand piano by Bernard, 
 there is nothing in it but mirrors ; a mirror on the 
 large dressing-table, a mirror on the mahogany chest 
 of drawers, on the night table, and on the mantel- 
 piece a mirror composed of two little glasses. 
 
Josephine. 303 
 
 " What ! is this all the furniture of this elegant 
 lady ? Yes ; and she eats off earthenware plates, 
 except on great occasions for which she has a 
 dozen of blue and white china ones; the table- 
 linen comprises eight table-cloths, all so worn that 
 in the inventory, serviettes and table-cloths are 
 valued at four pounds. But Bonaparte does not 
 notice all this; he does not know that this 
 uncommon and elegant woman who is before him, 
 whose infinite grace disturbs his brain, whose 
 recherche toilette is a feast to his eyes, has only 
 in her wardrobe four dozen chemises partly worn 
 out, two dozen handkerchiefs, six petticoats, six 
 nightdresses, eighteen fichus, twelve pairs of 
 stockings of different colours. In addition she 
 has for outward wearing, six muslin shawls, two 
 taffeta robes (one brown, the other violet), three 
 fine, coloured, embroidered muslin dresses, three 
 plain muslins, two book-muslin dresses, three 
 Jouy linen dresses, and one of white embroidered 
 lawn. This underclothing so really poor, and 
 these outward coverings so relatively numerous, 
 though the stuffs are shabby and cheap, show the 
 whole disposition of Josephine it is Josephine all 
 over to have sixteen dresses and six petticoats." 
 
 XII. 
 THE FASCINATION BEGINS. 
 
 " BUT what matter ? Bonaparte only sees the dress, 
 or rather he only sees the woman, the soft chestnut 
 
304 Napoleon. 
 
 hair, slightly made up, dyed, it is true but it is then 
 the time of white powdered wigs a skin brown 
 enough, already lined from care, but smoothed, 
 whitened, pinked by cosmetics; teeth, already 
 bad, but no one ever sees them, for the small 
 mouth is always ready to melt into a slight, sweet 
 smile, which agreed with the infinite mildness of 
 her long-lashed eyes, with the tender expression 
 of her features, with a tone of voice so touching 
 that later on servants would stop in the passages 
 to hear it. And with that a mobile, delicate nose, 
 with ever-quivering nostrils, a nose a little raised 
 at the end, engaging and roguish, which provoked 
 desire. 
 
 " Nevertheless the head is scarcely to be men- 
 tioned in comparison with this body, so free, so 
 stately, not yet spoiled by stoutness, and which 
 ends in little, straight, arched feet feet so plump 
 and soft as to invite a kiss. On the body no 
 restraint, no corsets, not even a neck-band to 
 support the throat, which is, however, short and 
 expressionless. But her general attractiveness 
 goes beyond defining. This woman has a grace 
 which belongs only to herself : ' She even goes to 
 bed gracefully/ This grace results from such a 
 just proportion of build that one forgets she is of 
 mediocre stature, so easy and elegant are all her 
 movements. A long and careful study of her 
 body, a coquetry which has refined all her gestures,, 
 that loses no advantage, and is constantly on the 
 
Josephine. 305 
 
 defensive, leaves nothing to chance ; this unde- 
 finable nonchalance which makes the Creole 
 woman the essence of womanhood ; this sensu- 
 ality which, like a light perfume, floats around 
 these languid attitudes of the supple and easy 
 limbs, was it not enough to turn the brain of 
 everybody, and most of all of him who was newer 
 and less experienced than any other ? The woman 
 seduces him from the first moment, while at the 
 same time the lady dazzles him by, as he says 
 himself, ' that calm and noble dignity of the old 
 French society/ " 
 
 XIII. 
 IN THE TOILS. 
 
 " SHE feels that he is ensnared, that he belongs to 
 her, and when he comes back on the next day, the 
 day after, and then every day, when he sees about 
 Madame de Beauharnais men who belonged to the 
 ancient Court, who are great lords in comparison 
 with him, 'petit noble' (the word is his own), a 
 Segur, a Montesquieu, a Caulaincourt, who treat 
 her as a friend, an equal, somewhat as a comrade, 
 he does not notice the dark side; he does not 
 realise that these men, who will always have for 
 him a certain prestige, come there as bachelors, 
 and do not bring their wives. After the Jacobin 
 surroundings in which he lived, and which in 
 Vaucluse, Toulon, Nice, and Pa s had been an 
 advantage to him, he experienced a n infinite satis- 
 
 x 
 
306 Napoleon. 
 
 faction in finding himself in such company. All 
 the appearances (and nothing here was more than 
 appearance, the luxury of the lady as well as her 
 nobility, her society, and the place she occupied in 
 the world), all these appearances he accepted for 
 realities, and saw them so, his senses aiding. 
 
 "Fifteen days after the first visit a liaison com- 
 menced. In writing to each other they still talk only 
 friendship, but in the confusion of that time, says a 
 witness, shades, transitions, were but little observed. 
 " ' They loved one another passionately.' As 
 to him, it is quite easy to believe it; as to her, 
 why should we not believe that she was then 
 sincere? This Bonaparte was new ground, a 
 savage to tame, the lion of the day to show about 
 in her chains. For the woman, already beginning 
 to age, this ardour of passion, these kisses, as 
 under the Equator, prove to her that she is still 
 beautiful, and that she will always please. Good 
 enough as a lover, but what of a husband ? He 
 makes an offer of his hand he supplicates her to 
 marry him. After all, what has she to lose ? She 
 is at the last extremity, and it is the throwing of 
 a card that she risks. He is young, ambitious, he 
 is Commander-in-Chief of the Interior; during 
 the Directoire it is remembered that he furnished 
 plans for the last Italian campaign, and Carnot is 
 going to give him the chief command in the 
 approaching campaign. It means, perhaps, sal- 
 vation. Then what does she commit herself to I 
 
Josephine. 307 
 
 A marriage ? But divorce is a remedy ready to 
 hand, for there is no question of priest or religious 
 ceremony. What is it in reality? A contract 
 which will last as long as it pleases the parties to 
 observe the conditions, but which is of no value 
 either in the conscience of the wife or in that of 
 her old world ; which will bring something big if 
 well played, for this young man may mount high ; 
 which will bring, in any case, a pension if he is 
 killed." 
 
 XIV. 
 VENIAL MENDACITIES. 
 
 " NEVERTHELESS, she has precautions to take ;. 
 first of all, her age to dissemble, for she does not 
 want to avow, either to this youth of twenty-six 
 or to any one else, that she is more than thirty-two 
 years old. So Calmelot, her confidential man, at 
 present tutor of her children, goes, accompanied 
 by a friend named Lesourd, to a notary's : " They 
 certify that they know Marie-Joseph Tascher, 
 widow of the citizen Beauharnais, intimately, know 
 that she is a native of the Island of Martinique, 
 and that at the present moment it is impossible 
 for her to procure a certificate of birth on account 
 of the island being occupied by the English/* 
 That is all ; no other declaration, no date. Armed 
 with this, Josephine can declare to the Civil officer 
 that she was born on June 23, 1767, whilst in 
 reality she was born on June 23, 1763. People 
 
 x 2 
 
308 Napoleon. 
 
 do not examine her more closely. As to fortune, 
 she intends there shall also be illusion. Here, one 
 would believe, there must be some difficulty, but 
 Bonaparte accepts all that she does, and then in 
 private, in the presence only of Lemarrois, aide- 
 de-camp of the General, the strangest contract of 
 marriage that notary ever received, is prepared ; 
 no community of goods under any form nor in 
 any manner whatsoever; absolute separation of 
 means ; all authority given in advance by the 
 future husband to the future wife; guardianship 
 of the children by the first marriage exclusively 
 to be held by the mother; a jointure of fifteen 
 hundred pounds if she becomes a widow, and in 
 the latter case also the right to get back all that 
 she could justly claim as belonging to her. 
 
 " Of documents relating to personal property 
 not a single one. All that the future wife possesses 
 is a claim to the property which was common to 
 herself and the late M. Beauharnais. He did not 
 make an inventory, and until the inventory was 
 made she could not decide whether to accept or 
 renounce. The inventory was made two years 
 later, and she renounced, but these two years had 
 brought something better. Bonaparte made no 
 secret of the smallness of his fortune. ' On his 
 side the future husband declared he possessed no 
 real estate nor personal property other than his 
 wardrobe and his military equipage, the whole 
 valued by him at , and then he signed the 
 
Josephine. 309 
 
 nominal value.' Just as the notary of Madame 
 de Beauharnais had said, his ' cape and sword ' 
 were his fortune. But the General found the 
 declaration superfluous, and in the contract he 
 purely and simply had the paragraph scratched 
 out. 
 
 "The contract is dated 18 Ventose, An IV. 
 (March 8, 1796). The next day the marriage 
 took place before the Civil officer, who com- 
 plaisantly gave to the husband twenty - eight 
 years instead of twenty-six, and to the wife 
 twenty-nine instead of thirty-two. This mayor 
 seems to have a passion for equalising. Barras, 
 Lemarrois, who is not a major, Tallien and 
 Calmelot, the inevitable Calmelot, are witnesses. 
 There is no mention of the consent of the parents ; 
 they were not consulted. 
 
 " Two days after, General Bonaparte goes alone 
 to join the army in Italy; Madame Bonaparte 
 remains at the Rue Chantereine." 
 
 There is something weird, is there not, in this 
 revivification of the past, even to the numbering 
 of the articles of underclothing in poor Josephine's 
 wardrobe. The details may seem squalid, but 
 somehow or other they do not so impress me. 
 There is something in their accumulation that 
 adds so much to the reality and familiarity of the 
 picture, and nothing that thus brings us face to 
 face with the daily life of so portentous a figure 
 as Napoleon, can ever cease to interest mankind. 
 
3io Napoleon. 
 
 xv. 
 
 DITHYRAMBIC LOVE. 
 
 I GO back to M. Levy's volume for a description 
 of the epoch which followed. 
 
 It is a stage in Napoleon's life which it is very 
 hard to understand, the existence of which many 
 people have forgotten, and which is in contrast 
 with the strange lawlessness, heartlessness, frigidity 
 of temper which supreme power finally begat in 
 Napoleon's character. We have extant his corre- 
 spondence with his wife during his campaign in 
 Italy ; it is the correspondence of an impassioned 
 boy with his first love. Its warmth of language, 
 its hysterical joy, its strange despair, all its quick 
 alternation of the liveliest and most acute feel- 
 ings, stand, as it were, outside that stern man we 
 know, with that impassive face in the midst of the 
 wholesale carnage of the battle-field. The daring 
 conspirator who was ready to stake his head in 
 the fight for a crown the man whose settled 
 frown, cold and steady gaze, and imperious de- 
 meanour affright the bravest general into an awed 
 silence this man is to be seen in these letters 
 falling on his knees, clasping his hands, tearing 
 his hair, sobbing in the outbursts of jealous and 
 almost tenderly submissive love. It is certainly 
 one of the most curious contradictions between 
 the outer demeanour, the general character, and 
 
Josephine. 311 
 
 the inner nature which history presents. Above 
 all, it confirms the theory of many shrewd ob- 
 servers of human nature, that it is women after all 
 who alone understand men, for it is they who 
 alone see them as they really are. 
 
 I will give some specimens of these letters. 
 It will be seen that I in no way exaggerate their 
 character. 
 
 At Chanceaux, on his way to Italy, he has to 
 stop to exchange horses ; he takes advantage of 
 the pause to write a letter. 
 
 " Every instant," he writes, " takes me farther 
 from you, adorable creature, and every instant I 
 feel less that I can bear being separated from you. 
 You are perpetually in my thoughts ; I rack my 
 brains to imagine what you are about. If I think 
 you are sad, my heart feels broken; if I fancy 
 you gay, laughing with your friends, I reproach 
 you for having forgotten our grievous separation 
 of three days ago. 
 
 " If I am asked whether I have slept well, I 
 feel that, before answering, I ought to receive 
 news from you as to whether you have had a good 
 night. Sickness, man's fury, affect me not, ex- 
 cept by the idea that they may come upon you. 
 . . . Ah ! be not gay, but rather somewhat melan- 
 choly, and, above all, may your soul be exempt 
 from grief as your body from illness." 
 
312 Napoleon. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 SUSPICION. 
 
 UNDERNEATH all these outbursts of passion one 
 can detect, as M. Levy points out, a vague sense 
 of apprehension and coming danger. Napoleon 
 had not failed to see the "tepidity" which his 
 wife felt towards him, and he knew, perhaps, that 
 her past had not been altogether without reproach. 
 In any case, he is tormented all through his cam- 
 paign ; and in the midst of those mighty victories 
 which were dazzling the world, amid all the 
 acclaims of that triumphant army in the midst, 
 too, of the dangers which Napoleon madly ran 
 his innermost heart is constantly tortured with the 
 idea that his love is not returned, that his con- 
 fidence is betrayed. It is impossible not to tarry 
 with some pleasure at this stage of Napoleon's 
 career ; it is somewhat like the early, innocent 
 maidenhood of a woman that has ended disastrously. 
 
 Here is what is said of Napoleon by one of his 
 secretaries of this period : 
 
 " General Bonaparte, however taken up he 
 might be with his position, with the matters en- 
 trusted to him, and with his future, had yet time 
 to give himself up to thoughts of another kind. 
 He was thinking constantly of his wife. He 
 longed for her, and watched for her coming with 
 impatience. He often spoke to me of her and his 
 
Josephine. 313 
 
 love, with the expansions and the illusions of a 
 very young man. The continual delays that she 
 interposed before her departure were torture to 
 him, and he occasionally gave way to fits of 
 jealousy, and to a kind of superstition, which was 
 strong in his nature. One day the glass of Jose- 
 phine's portrait, which he always wore about him, 
 broke, and he turned dreadfully pale. ( Marmont, 3 
 he exclaimed, 'either my wife is ill or unfaithful.'" 
 
 XVII. 
 FRIVOLOUS JOSEPHINE. 
 
 JOSEPHINE, meantime, is not much touched by 
 these outbursts. Josephine may or may not have 
 been the abandoned woman Barras declares, but 
 her letters about her curious lover so wan, awk- 
 ward, abrupt, so devoid of drawing-room graces 
 give a curious picture of the conflicting emotions 
 of her mind. Here is the first paragraph of one of 
 them : 
 
 "You have seen General Bonaparte at my 
 house. Well, it is he who is good enough to act 
 as stepfather to the orphans of Alexandre de 
 Beauharnais, as husband to his widow ! Do you 
 love him ? you ask me. No. ... I do not. Then 
 you dislike him ? No ; but my state is one of 
 tepidity towards him that is displeasing to me." 
 
 It is clearly evident from this that when Jose* 
 phine married, it was not from love. The next 
 
314 Napoleon. 
 
 paragraph shows, however, the method by which 
 Napoleon was able to procure influence over her 
 mind. It is also a curious and instructive proof 
 of how early was that perfect self-confidence which 
 was one of the secrets of his final triumph and 
 glory. There is also an allusion to Barras which 
 would seem to lend some confirmation to the un- 
 favourable view of the alliance on which that 
 arch-enemy of Bonaparte has insisted : 
 
 " Barras assures me that if I marry the General 
 he will obtain for him the command in Italy. 
 Yesterday Bonaparte was talking to me about 
 this favour, which is already causing some of his 
 brothers-in-arms to grumble, although it has not 
 yet been granted. ( Do they imagine/ he said, 
 ' that I need protection in order to rise ? They 
 will only be too glad when I accord them mine. 
 My sword is by my side, and with that I will do 
 anything." 
 
 And finally comes this delicious passage, which 
 shows at once the indecision of the woman and 
 the weapon by which she was finally overcome 
 the weapon of Napoleon's thorough confidence in 
 himself: 
 
 " I do not know how it is, but sometimes this 
 ridiculous assurance gains upon me to such an 
 extent as to make me believe possible all that 
 this man suggests to me ; and, with his imagina- 
 tion, who can tell what he may not attempt ? " 
 
 Similarly after her marriage, her comment on 
 
Josephine. 315 
 
 these extraordinary letters more extraordinary 
 because of the character of the man who wrote 
 them and of his surroundings her comment is 
 one of the most fatuous utterances recorded in 
 history : " What an odd creature Bonaparte is ! " 
 she says. " What an odd creature Bonaparte is " 
 is really delightful in its sublime unconsciousness 
 in its naivete, in its tragic forecast of her 
 subsequent fate. M. LeVy who is a simple man 
 himself describes the phrase as " vulgar and 
 unseemly." His comment is as simple as the 
 original phrase. It is not specially vulgar or 
 specially unseemly ; it is gigantically stupid. 
 
 Above all things, Josephine did not wish to 
 leave her beloved Paris. And life in that delightful 
 city was now more delightful than ever, for the 
 victories of her husband, producing mighty street 
 demonstrations, reflected their glory on her ; she 
 is cheered as she rides through the triumphant 
 crowds ; she is at last in a steady and brilliant 
 social position. She tries all kinds of expedients 
 to excuse her delay in departing for her husband's 
 camp, until at last she takes refuge in the splendid 
 invention that she is enceinte. 
 
 At once Napoleon is pacified, and he bursts 
 out into a profusion of apologies, regrets, almost 
 grovelling palinodes. As thus : 
 
 " My life is a perpetual nightmare. A horrible 
 presentiment prevents me from breathing. I live 
 no more. I have lost more than life, more than 
 
316 Napoleon. 
 
 happiness, more than rest. . . . Write me ten 
 pages ; that alone may console me a little. You 
 are ill, you love me ; I have afflicted you ; you 
 are enceinte. I have sinned so much against you 
 that I know not how to palliate my crimes. I 
 accuse you of remaining in Paris, and you are ill 
 there. Forgive me, my dearest ; the love with 
 which you have inspired me has taken away my 
 reason. I shall never find it again." 
 
 And so it goes on, gathering force and fire as 
 it proceeds ; tumultuous, impassioned, like the 
 improvisation of the Italian stock from which he 
 has come. Whatever else Napoleon is, at this 
 period of his existence he is not cold ; the volcano 
 emits lava continuously. Here, for instance, is 
 another passage in the same letter : 
 
 " I have always been fortunate ; my fate has 
 never resisted my will ; and to-day I am struck in 
 what touches me most closely. Without appetite, 
 without sleep, indifferent to friends, glory, and 
 country you, you alone the rest of the world 
 no more exists for me than if it were annihilated. 
 I care for honour because you care for it, for 
 victory because it gives you pleasure; otherwise 
 I should have quitted all to throw myself at your 
 feet. My darling, mind you tell me that you are 
 convinced that I love you more than it is possible 
 to imagine; that you are persuaded that every 
 moment of my time is consecrated to you; that 
 never an hour passes without my thinking of you ; 
 
Josephine. 317 
 
 that in my eyes all other women are without charm, 
 beauty, or wit ; that you and you alone, such as I 
 see you now, can please me and absorb all the 
 faculties of my soul, that you alone have sounded 
 all its depths ; . . . that my strength, my arms, my 
 mind all is yours ; . . . that my soul is in your 
 body; and that the day when you change, or 
 the day on which you cease to live, would be 
 that of my death ; that nature and the earth are 
 only beautiful in my eyes because you inhabit 
 them." 
 
 And finally the letter, after pages of this 
 kind of thing, winds up with this impassioned 
 outburst : 
 
 " A child, adorable as his mother, is about to 
 see the light in your arms ! Unhappy that I am, 
 I would be satisfied with one day ! A thousand 
 kisses on your eyes, your lips ! Adorable woman, 
 what is your power ? I am ill with your illness ; 
 fever is burning me ! Do not keep the courier 
 more than six hours, and let him return straight- 
 way to bring me the cherished letter from my 
 sovereign." 
 
 XVIII. 
 THE FIRST QUARRELS. 
 
 ALL these outpourings did not make it a bit 
 easier for Josephine to leave Paris; it was not 
 until she feared that her little invention about 
 being enceinte would be betrayed by Junot 
 
318 Napoleon. 
 
 Napoleon's faithful servant that she consented 
 to go ; and then, says a contemporary observer, 
 " Poor woman, she burst into tears, and sobbed as 
 though she were going to execution." At last 
 she reaches Milan. " General .Bonaparte," says 
 Marmont, " was very happy, for then he lived only 
 for her. This lasted for a long time. Never had 
 a purer, truer, more exclusive love possession of 
 the heart of man." But he has to rush from her 
 arms to continue his fights with the enemy; and 
 his letters, instead of cooling, grow warmer : 
 
 " I turn over and over in my mind your kisses, 
 your tears, your charming jealousy, and the 
 charms of the incomparable Josephine light un- 
 ceasingly in my heart a warm and bright flame. 
 When shall I be free from all worry, from all 
 business, and at liberty to pass my time near you, 
 and nothing to think of but the happiness of 
 saying and proving it. ... I thought I loved you 
 a few days ago, but since I have left you I feel 
 that my love has increased a thousandfold. . . . 
 I implore you to show me your defects sometimes; 
 be less beautiful, less gracious, less tender, less 
 loving especially ; above all, never be jealous, 
 never cry your tears distract me, burn my 
 blood. . . . Come and join me, so that before we 
 die we may be able to say : ' We were happy so 
 many days/ " 
 
 And the next day he writes in a similar strain : 
 " I have been to Virgil's village, on the edge 
 
Josephine. 319 
 
 of a lake, by moonlight, and not one instant 
 passed without my thinking of Josephine. I have 
 lost my snuff-box, and beg you to choose me one 
 rather flat, and to have something rather pretty 
 written upon it, with your hair. A thousand 
 kisses, as burning as you are cold." 
 
 And meantime poor, lazy, tepid Josephine 
 proves a very poor correspondent. Letter after 
 letter from Bonaparte begins with some such 
 phrase as this : " Two days without a letter from 
 you. Thirty times to-day have I said that to 
 myself." "I hope that on arriving to-night I 
 shall receive a letter from you." " I am starting 
 immediately for Verona. I had hoped for a 
 letter from you, and am in a state of the utmost 
 anxiety." "No letter from you. I am really 
 anxious." "I write to you frequently, my dear 
 one, and you but little to me. You are haughty 
 and unkind, as unkind as you are heedless." 
 
 And so it goes on in reproach after reproach : 
 
 " I have received your letters and have pressed 
 them to my heart and my lips, and the grief at 
 my absence, divided from you as I am a hundred 
 miles, has vanished. But your letters are as cold 
 as if you were fifty ; they might have been written 
 after fifteen years of married life." 
 
 Here is another : 
 
 " I Jove you no longer ; on the contrary, I 
 detest you. You are a wretch, very clumsy, very 
 stupid, a Cinderella. You never write to me; 
 
320 Napoleon. 
 
 you do not love your husband. You know what 
 pleasure your letters give him, and you never 
 write him even six miserable lines." 
 
 And still Napoleon goes on protesting the 
 vehemence of his love : 
 
 " I hope soon to be in your arms. I love you 
 to distraction. All is well. Wurmser has been 
 defeated at Mantua. Nothing is wanting to your 
 husband's happiness save the love of Josephine." 
 
 And three days after this letter, when he 
 comes to Milan to join his wife, his love gets a 
 shock greater than her silence and the coldness 
 of her letters. The Palazzo where he had expected 
 to find her is empty, Josephine has gone to 
 Genoa ; and then Napoleon, unable to control his 
 grief, disappointment, the wound inflicted on his 
 love and self-love, pours forth his feelings in two 
 letters eloquent in their grief. The first is written 
 immediately after his arrival : 
 
 " I reach Milan, I rush to your room ; I have 
 quitted all to see you, to press you in my arms. 
 You were not there ; you are travelling about in 
 search of amusement ; you put distance between 
 us as soon as I arrive ; you care nothing for your 
 Napoleon. A caprice made you love him, in- 
 constancy renders him indifferent to you." 
 
 And on the next day there comes another letter 
 equally agonised in tone : 
 
 " To love you only, to render you happy, to do 
 nothing that can annoy you, that is my destiny, 
 
Josephine. 321 
 
 and the object of my life. Be happy, do not 
 reproach me, care nothing about the fidelity of 
 a man who lives only through you ; enjoy only 
 your own pleasures and your own happiness. In 
 asking for a love equal to mine, I was wrong. 
 How can I expect lace to weigh as heavily as 
 gold ? In sacrificing to you all my desires, all 
 my thoughts, every instant of my life, I simply 
 yield to the ascendency that your charms, your 
 character, and your whole heart have obtained 
 over my unhappy heart. I am unhappy if nature 
 did not endow me with attractions sufficient to 
 captivate you, but what I deserve at the hands 
 of Josephine is at least consideration and esteem, 
 for I love you madly and solely. . . . Ah ! Josephine, 
 Josephine I " 
 
 Josephine, meantime, was surrounded by young 
 officers, who adored and flattered and courted her, 
 and the memoir writers have no hesitation in 
 declaring that she was unfaithful to Napoleon ; 
 but this may not be true, for French memoir 
 writers are not sparing of women's reputations. 
 At all events, Napoleon banished several ofHcers 
 from his army who were suspected of paying too 
 much devotion to his wife ; and from the moment 
 when, returning to Milan, he found that she had 
 gone and not awaited him, there is a gradually 
 increasing coldness in his letters. The romance 
 was over ; Josephine herself had killed it. 
 
322 Napoleon. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 HIPPOLYTE CHARLES. 
 
 AMONG the officers of the army of Italy, when 
 Napoleon was Commander-in-Chief, was a young 
 man named Hippolyte Charles. I suppose there is 
 nothing more curious nor inexplicable in some 
 respects more saddening, in others more satis- 
 factory, than the difficulty the greatest men of 
 history have found in gaining real and faithful 
 love. George Eliot in one of her early stories 
 stands up for the man, with poor stumbling gait 
 and commonplace mind, who wins the love of some 
 woman far superior to himself ; and asks whether 
 the straight-limbed young gods have not enough 
 from life without begrudging to the poor devil, 
 who is neither fair of form nor brilliant of mind, 
 the great good the gods have given him of a 
 perfect woman's devotion. Catherine of Russia 
 had wondrous charm in addition to her vast gifts 
 of courage, resolve, clear vision and yet Catherine, 
 as her biographer tells us, was as much deceived 
 by the various men on whom she bestowed so 
 profusely the riches of her own nature and of her 
 Empire, as the veriest grisette. And, similarly, 
 Napoleon the god of his own time, the god of 
 so many successive generations of men Napoleon 
 never succeeded until it was too late in winning 
 the devotion of his own wife. And to make the 
 
Josephine. 323 
 
 tragedy the more grotesque, a Hippolyte Charles 
 was his successful rival. Hippolyte Charles, who 
 had not great external advantages, being small 
 and thin, very brown of skin, with hair black as 
 jet, but very careful of his person, and very smart 
 in his fine Hussar uniform laced with gold, showed 
 the greatest attention to the wife of his Com- 
 mander-in-Chief. He was a man of the kind 
 most dangerous to a woman who is rather bored, 
 and does not love her husband. Charles was 
 what is called amusing. He made puns, and 
 was somewhat affected. The keen interest that 
 Josephine took in this young Hussar was known 
 to every one in the Army of Italy, and when 
 what M. de Se*gur calls " Napoleon's jealous 
 displeasure " burst forth, no one was surprised to 
 see Charles, at that time aide-de-camp to General 
 Leclerc, "banished from the Army of Italy by 
 order of the Commander-in-Chief." 
 
 xx. 
 
 IN EGYPT. 
 
 WHEN Napoleon went to Egypt he was accom- 
 panied a portion of the way by Josephine. The 
 separation between them is said to have been 
 touching. It is not known whether Josephine 
 offered to accompany him or not. It is certain, 
 however, that Napoleon still continued to have 
 a warm affection for her. In the midst of all his 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 Napoleon. 
 
 preparations for his great campaigning in the 
 midst of the discussions with the scientific men 
 whom he had brought with him Napoleon, says 
 Bourrienne, "passionately devoted to France, 
 anxious for his own glory, though his heart was 
 so full, there was still a large place kept for 
 Josephine, of whom he almost always spoke to 
 me in our familiar conversation." 
 
 But Josephine still was tepid, and was terribly 
 indiscreet. In the correspondence of Napoleon 
 with his brothers we see the anxiety gradually 
 turning into certainty, and despair is transformed 
 into rage and repulsion. To his brother Joseph 
 he writes from Cairo : " Look after my wife ; see 
 her sometimes. I beg Louis to give her good 
 advice." In the same letter he says : " I send a 
 handsome shawl to Julia ; she is a good woman, 
 make her happy." Soon after, however, there 
 is a very different note in the letters, and in a 
 letter to Josephine there occurs this phrase the 
 epitaph on his lost confidence in his wife's fidelity : 
 " I have many domestic sorrows, for the veil is 
 entirely lifted/' The latter part of this phrase 
 was omitted in the earlier memoirs of Josephine ; 
 it has since been restored. In this same letter 
 there is another passage which speaks a sorrow 
 as profound as even these first words : 
 
 "Your affection is very dear to me. Were I 
 to lose that, and to see you betray me, I should 
 turn misanthrope; it alone saves me. One is in 
 
Josephine. 325 
 
 a sad plight when all one's affections are centred 
 upon one person. Arrange that I should have 
 active employment on my return, either near 
 Paris or in Burgundy. I wish to pass the winter 
 there, and to shut myself up ; I am tired of human 
 nature. I want solitude and isolation ; grandeur 
 wearies me, my affections are dried up." 
 
 Prince Eugene Josephine's son has in his 
 Memoirs to confess that his mother's conduct 
 disturbed Napoleon. He puts down the reports 
 that reach his stepfather to malice and calumny ; 
 but, nevertheless, he has to give us a picture of 
 Napoleon which is not without pathos : 
 
 " Although I was very young, I inspired him 
 with so much confidence that he made me a sharer 
 in his sorrows, It was generally at night that he 
 thus unbosomed himself, walking with great strides 
 up and down his tent. I was the only person to 
 whom he could talk openly. I sought to soften 
 his resentment, I comforted him as best I could, 
 and as much as my age and the respect I felt for 
 him permitted." 
 
 At last there came one of those violent explo- 
 sions of wrath which were the terror of Napoleon's 
 surrounding. He addressed Bourrienne in a voice 
 stifled with rage ; reproaches him that he has not 
 repeated the reports which Junot had brought 
 fresh from Paris Junot might have been better 
 employed and then went on : 
 
 " Josephine .... and I am six hundred leagues 
 
326 Napoleon. 
 
 away .... Josephine to have thus deceived me. 
 She, she .... woe to them .... I will exter- 
 minate the whole tribe of fops and puppies. As for 
 her divorce. Yes .... a public overwhelming 
 divorce .... I know all." 
 
 Poor Bourrienne seeks in vain to stop this 
 torrent of wrath, and recalls to Napoleon the fact 
 that whatever might be his domestic misadventures, 
 he had at least the comfort of the mighty glory 
 that his Egyptian campaign had gathered around 
 him. There is something extremely human, some- 
 thing really that makes Napoleon less of the 
 scarcely human monster of the Taine portrait, 
 in the passage which follows : 
 
 " My glory ! " exclaimed Napoleon in despair. 
 " What would I not give if only what Junot has 
 told me were not true, so dearly do I love that 
 woman ! " 
 
 The origin of all these outbursts was the be- 
 haviour of Josephine with Hippolyte Charles. 
 That young gentleman, after his expulsion from 
 the Army of Italy, had entered into business in 
 a large provision firm, was prospering, had money 
 to spend, kept up a fine establishment, and Jose- 
 phine again listened to him. He paid her visits 
 at Malmaison, her residence as the General's wife ; 
 and, finally it is scarcely credible that a woman 
 could be so imprudent and expect to retain her 
 reputation and her husband's love "ended by 
 living there altogether as its master." 
 
Josephine. 327 
 
 This is what had been reported to Napoleon. 
 He took his revenge. To this period belongs 
 that well-known intrigue between Napoleon and 
 Madame Pauline Faures, which suggests to Taine 
 one of his most remarkable passages; and from 
 this time forward Napoleon's confidence in his 
 wife was gone. When Josephine heard that he 
 was returning, she determined to forestall her 
 enemies, and to win back his love by going to 
 meet him. Possibly she recollected that most un- 
 happy day when she left Milan, and Napoleon, 
 rushing, as he thought, to her loving and expect- 
 ing arms, found nothing but emptiness and absence. 
 But fortune was against her this time; she went 
 to meet him by one route, he arrived by another. 
 
 So it happened that on October i6th, 1798, at 
 six in the morning, Napoleon found no one when 
 he reached his house in the Rue Chantereine, and 
 his irritation and jealousy were thereby increased. 
 
 To make this unexpected solitude in his own 
 home the more exasperating, Napoleon had passed 
 through France amid the mad acclamations of the 
 people the forerunners of that inexhaustible 
 popularity which very soon was to enable him to 
 mount the throne. After all these wild crowds of 
 almost idolatrous admirers after all this tumult 
 to come home and find this silence, this apparent 
 neglect! Napoleon was so exasperated that he 
 refused for some time to even see Josephine, and 
 took measures for having the divorce proceedings 
 
328 Napoleon. 
 
 set in motion; and what must have made the 
 whole business the more exasperating for Napoleon 
 was that just at that moment, when this wretched 
 domestic complication came to disturb and pre- 
 occupy him, he was on the eve of the events which 
 were to lead him if he only had the nerve and 
 the resource to the loftiest pinnacle of human 
 glory; which, with loss of nerve by one slight 
 mistake might end in death on the scaffold. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Josephine adopted 
 a desperate but a wise expedient. She used her 
 two children as the intermediaries between her 
 and her husband. The scene which followed is 
 described by more than one contemporary, but 
 the best accounts are those of Prince Eugene, who 
 of course was present, and of Bourrienne, Napo- 
 leon's secretary. Prince Eugene says that Napoleon 
 gave his mother a " cold reception." Bourrienne 
 describes the reception as one of "calculated 
 severity" and the "coldest indifference." But 
 when Napoleon saw Josephine, her eyes streaming 
 with tears, in despair, conducted to his presence 
 by Hortense and Eugene, he broke down " he 
 opened his arms and forgave his wife." 
 
 It is hard to say what judgment we should 
 pronounce on this episode. M. Levy, of course, 
 has no difficulty in seeing in it a sublime gene- 
 rosity ; it may have been the cynical indifference 
 which made Napoleon finally regard Josephine as 
 merely a pretty woman not to be cast off because 
 
Josephine. 329 
 
 of her prettiness to be simply used and despised. 
 There is much more respect to a woman in a 
 jealousy that will not be appeased than in a 
 reconciliation which has its roots in the senses 
 and in contempt. 
 
 And now there comes the second epoch in the 
 lives of Napoleon and Josephine. As married 
 people go, they got on pretty well together. There 
 are abundant proofs that Napoleon was in his way 
 a fairly good family man. He certainly desired to 
 be so considered himself. 
 
 " At home," he said to Roederer, " I am an 
 affectionate man ; I play with the children, talk 
 to my wife, read novels to them." 
 
 And certainly there are proofs that he was 
 very fond of children. We have seen already how 
 intoxicated he was by the prospect of Josephine's 
 being enceinte. Later on, his delight was keen 
 when that poor infant was born with so tragic a 
 destiny so pitiful an end the Duke of Reich- 
 stadt. Here are two very pretty pictures of Napo- 
 leon with the children of Queen Hortense, daughter 
 of Josephine, wife of his brother Louis, the father 
 of the Napoleon whom we knew in our days as 
 Emperor of the French : 
 
 "Uncle Bibiche! Uncle Bibiche!" This ex- 
 clamation came from a child of scarcely five years 
 of age, running breathlessly in the park of Saint- 
 Cloud after a man visible in the distance followed 
 by a troop of gazelles, to whom he was distributing 
 
33 Napoleon. 
 
 pinches of snuff, disputed eagerly. The child was 
 the eldest son of Hortense, and the distributor of 
 snuff was Napoleon, who had earned the name of 
 " Uncle Bibiche " by the pleasure that he took in 
 setting the boy on the back of one of the gazelles 
 and walking him about, to the intense joy of the 
 child, who was carefully held on by his uncle. 
 The child, it appears, was charming, and, more- 
 over, possessed a great admiration for his uncle. 
 When he passed in front of the grenadiers in the 
 Tuileries gardens, the boy would call out : " Long 
 live grandpapa, the soldier ! " " It used to be," 
 says Mademoiselle Avrillon, "a real holiday for the 
 Emperor when Queen Hortense came to see her 
 mother, bringing her two children. Napoleon 
 would take them in his arms, caress them, often 
 tease them, and burst into laughter, as if he had 
 been their own age, when, according to his custom, 
 he had smeared their faces with cream or jam." 
 
 Finally, there were plenty of things to show 
 that ordinarily he was kind and considerate to 
 Josephine. Napoleon himself said : " If I found 
 no pleasures in my home life, I should be too 
 miserable." " Once the quarrels of the first years 
 were over," says Thibaudeau, " it was on the whole 
 a happy household." 
 
 " The Emperor," says Mademoiselle Avrillon, 
 " was, in reality, one of the best husbands I have ever 
 known. When the Empress was poorly, he passed 
 near her every hour that he could spare from his 
 
Josephine. 331 
 
 work. He always went into her room before 
 going to bed, and very often, when he woke in the 
 night, he would send his mameluke for news of 
 Her Majesty, or else come himself. He was 
 tenderly attached to her." "How touching was 
 the peace that reigned in the Imperial household ! " 
 says Constant. " The Emperor was full of atten- 
 tions for his wife, and used to amuse himself by 
 kissing her on the neck and the cheeks, tapping 
 her face, and calling her his ' great stupid.' She 
 often read new books to him ; he liked her to read 
 to him, as she read admirably and much enjoyed 
 reading aloud. When the Emperor showed an 
 inclination to go to sleep, the Empress used to 
 descend a little staircase and rejoin the company 
 in the drawing-room just as she had left them." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 HOPELESS JOSEPHINE. 
 
 Two or three more details will help us to form a 
 correct view of the relations between Napoleon 
 and Josephine. One of the husband's peculiarities 
 was the interest he took even in the small details 
 of his wife's toilet. He used sometimes to assist 
 at her preparations; "and," writes one of the 
 intimates of the household, " it was strange to us 
 to see a man whose head was so full of great 
 things going into all sorts of details, and pointing 
 -out the gowns or the jewels he wished her to wear 
 
33 2 Napoleon. 
 
 on such and such occasion. He one day spilled 
 some ink over one of the Empress's gowns be- 
 cause he did not like it, and to force her to put on 
 another." 
 
 " On the morning of the consecration," says 
 the Duchesse d'Abrantes, "the Emperor himself 
 tried on the Empress the crown she was to wear. 
 During the ceremony he was most attentive, 
 arranged this little crown, which surmounted a 
 coronet of diamonds, altered it, replaced it, and 
 moved it again." 
 
 But, nevertheless, there were occasional quarrels 
 between the two, mainly owing to the incurable 
 extravagance of Josephine. Napoleon inherited 
 from his mother, and from his days of struggle, 
 a most careful regard for the value of money. Of 
 that I shall give some curious stories by-and-by. 
 Poor Josephine, on the other hand, never was 
 capable of counting the cost of anything, and she 
 was so fond of spending money that she frequently 
 bought things quite useless to her for the mere 
 sake of buying. The result was that she was 
 always being cheated, always in debt, always in 
 terror and tears when the time came round to 
 meet her bills and she had to appeal to her stern 
 taskmaster for money. Says Sismondi : 
 
 " Josephine .... was always surrounded by 
 people who robbed her ; she denied herself no 
 whim, never reckoned the cost, and allowed pro- 
 digious debts to accumulate. It happened on one 
 
Josephine. 333 
 
 occasion, when the settlement of the budget was 
 approaching, that Napoleon saw the eyes of Jose- 
 phine and of Madame de la Rochefoucauld (prin- 
 cipal lady-in-waiting) very red. He said to Duroc : 
 1 These women have been crying ; try to find out 
 what it is about. 3 Duroc discovered that there 
 was a deficit of six hundred thousand francs 
 (twenty- four thousand pounds). Napoleon, in- 
 credulous, immediately wrote an order for one 
 million francs (forty thousand pounds), and ex- 
 claimed : ' All this for miserable trifles ! Simply 
 stolen by a lot of scoundrels ! I must send away 
 so-and-so, and forbid certain shopkeepers to pre- 
 sent themselves at the Palace. 3 " 
 
 XXII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S INFIDELITIES. 
 
 POOR Josephine had further and graver causes of 
 complaint. For the infidelities, the coldness, the 
 neglect with which she afflicted Napoleon when he 
 was a raw young soldier, and for the first time 
 knew the graces and charms of a pretty woman, 
 she had to pay the penalty of years of misery, 
 helpless jealousy, sometimes even violence. By 
 a process which is not uncommon in married life, 
 and especially among those whose fortunes have 
 undergone considerable modification, the woman's 
 love grew as the man's waned. Napoleon some- 
 times was decent enough to endeavour to conceal 
 
334 Napoleon. 
 
 his infidelities, at others he seems to have been 
 cynically indifferent to the feelings of his wife ; 
 and on one occasion he treated her as only a brute 
 could do. Sometimes, as Taine has told us, he 
 went the length of telling her the details of his 
 amours, replying to her tears and her reproaches 
 with, " I have a right to answer all your objections 
 with an eternal * Moi.' " 
 
 When in 1806-7 Napoleon was m Poland, there 
 was a reversal of the parts which the husband and 
 wife played towards each other in the other epoch 
 of their married life, when Josephine was in Paris 
 and Napoleon was in Italy. The reader will 
 remember the letters of impassioned ardour in 
 which the young soldier addressed in those days 
 the tepid wife how he pressed her to follow him, 
 to be always near him. When Napoleon went to 
 Poland there is a repetition of the same thing ; but 
 it is Josephine that longs to go to Napoleon, it is 
 Napoleon that likes their separation. When Jose- 
 phine did not get the summons she so eagerly 
 longed for, poor Josephine she was only a super- 
 stitious, weak Creole creature after all would try 
 to master her feverish impatience and her appre- 
 hensions in a characteristic way : 
 
 " Every evening," says the Duchesse d'Abrantes,, 
 " she used to consult the cards in order to learn 
 whether she would receive the desired orders or 
 not." 
 
 Josephine sends letter after letter, resorts to 
 
Josephine. 335 
 
 every species of tender coquetry. Much of all this 
 is to be found in the following little extract from 
 one of Napoleon's letters : 
 
 "An officer brings me a carpet from you. It 
 is rather short and narrow, but I thank you none 
 the less for it." 
 
 Meantime Napoleon keeps protesting that there 
 is only one woman in the world for him. " All 
 these Polish women are French, but to me there 
 is but one woman in the world." " In the deserts 
 of Poland one thinks little of beauties," he writes 
 in another letter. Following this description of 
 Poland was the announcement not altogether 
 consistent that the noblesse of the province had 
 given a ball in his honour : " Very beautiful 
 women, very rich, dressed in Paris fashion." This, 
 at least, was a tolerable and an inhabited " desert." 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 MADAME WALEWSKA. 
 
 POOR Josephine's apprehensions turned out to be 
 well founded. Napoleon met in Warsaw the only 
 woman who ever made a real impression upon 
 him since the days when his fiery young fancy so 
 glowed with love for Josephine. And it was here, 
 also, that Napoleon met the only woman, except 
 Josephine, who showed any desire to be faithful 
 to him in disaster as in the days of his glory. 
 Napoleon first saw Madame Walewska at that 
 
336 Napoleon. 
 
 very ball which he mentioned in his letter to 
 Josephine. Napoleon afterwards said of her : 
 " She was a charming woman, an angel. One 
 might say that her soul was as beautiful as her 
 face." She is thus described at the moment 
 when Napoleon saw her for the first time : 
 
 " She was two-and-twenty, fair, with blue eyes, 
 and a skin of dazzling whiteness ; she was not tall, 
 but perfectly formed, with an exquisite figure. A 
 slight shadow of melancholy lay on her whole 
 person, and rendered her still more attractive. 
 Recently married to an old nobleman of bad 
 temper and extremely rigid views, she seemed 
 to Napoleon like a woman who has been sacrificed 
 and who is unhappy at home. This idea increased 
 the passionate interest the Emperor felt in her as 
 soon as he saw her." 
 
 The records of the time show that in this case 
 Napoleon was prompt and strong ; but his love- 
 making was never of a very refined order. Thirty- 
 seven years of age, a great General, with Europe 
 gradually falling at his feet, he conducted his 
 siege of a woman after the fashion of an attack 
 on a fortified town. The courtship, indeed, is one 
 of the most curious in history ; I can but glance 
 at it for more reasons than one. Says Constant : 
 
 " The day after the ball the Emperor seemed 
 to me in an unusually agitated state. He walked 
 about the room, sat down, got up, and walked 
 about again. Immediately after luncheon he sent 
 
Josephine. 337 
 
 a great personage to visit Madame Walewska for 
 him, and to present to her his homage and his 
 entreaties. She proudly refused proposals made 
 too brusquely, or was it perhaps the coquetry 
 innate in woman that suggested to her to refuse ? " 
 
 Napoleon, however, wrote a letter which in 
 some degree made up for his brusqueness, and the 
 young Countess promised to visit him. 
 
 The Emperor, while waiting for her, walked 
 about the room and displayed as much impatience 
 as emotion. Every moment he inquired the time. 
 Madame Walewska arrived at last, but in what a 
 state ! pale, dumb, her eyes bathed in tears. 
 
 Everybody knows the end of the story. 
 Madame Walewska, after the disappearance of 
 Napoleon from her native country, remained in 
 shadow ; she made her presence felt for the first 
 time when reverses began to come. Then she 
 wrote to her old lover, and she visited him in the 
 island of Elba after his first dethronement. But 
 perhaps the favour she conferred on him that he 
 valued most was that she gave him a son. In due 
 time the son lived to be one of the chief advisers 
 and Ministers of Napoleon III., and died before 
 the war in which the whole Napoleonic dynasty 
 went down. 
 
 In the meantime poor Josephine comes part of 
 the way to her husband, but he tells her to go 
 back ; the weather, he says, is bad, the roads 
 unsafe. ' ' Return to Paris," he writes to her ; " be 
 
 z 
 
338 Napoleon. 
 
 happy and contented." In another letter contain- 
 ing the same advice, he says : " I wish you to be 
 gay and to give a little life to the capital." And, 
 finally, one can see to the depths of the tragedy 
 when one reads between the lines of this sentence 
 in one of these letters : 
 
 " I wish you to have more strength. I am told 
 you are always crying. Fie ! How ugly that is ! " 
 
 Josephine might well be " always crying." It 
 was the visit to Poland and the love of Countess 
 Walewska that led to her own final downfall. It 
 gave Napoleon the idea of having children, found- 
 ing a dynasty in other words, of divorcing his 
 wife. 
 
 XXIV. 
 THE DIVORCE. 
 
 NAPOLEON contemplated a divorce from Jose- 
 phine, it will be remembered, at an early period 
 of their married life. However, he and she got 
 over their difficulties, and divorce did not finally 
 come from any rupture of affection. I find it hard 
 to decide what Napoleon really felt at this period 
 of his life. His present apologist sees in his 
 conduct in this, as in almost every other circum- 
 stance, nothing but sublime unselfishness ; sublime 
 unselfishness was not in Napoleon's nature. On 
 the other hand, even Taine admits that he had 
 sensibility, though he contends that it was a 
 sensibility rather of nerves than of heart. At all 
 
Josephine. 339 
 
 events, there are plenty of passages to show that 
 he did not separate from Josephine without con- 
 siderable wrench of feeling. When it was sug- 
 gested to him in 1804 that he ought to look for an 
 heir, he cried out : 
 
 " It is from a feeling of justice that I will not 
 divorce my wife. My interests, perhaps the in- 
 terests of the system, demand that I should marry 
 again. But I have said to myself: * Why should I 
 put away that good woman simply because I have 
 become greater ? ' No, it is beyond me. I have 
 the heart of a man, I am not the offspring of a 
 tigress. I will not make her unhappy." 
 
 Knowing how much of an actor Napoleon was, 
 it is hard to say whether these excellent senti- 
 ments were what he really felt, or desired other 
 people to think he felt ; or may not these sentences 
 be the compensation he thought himself bound to 
 make for what he was contemplating ? One of 
 the subtle tricks of self-love and selfishness is to 
 imagine that verbal remorse is a sufficient justifi- 
 cation for unworthy acts. In 1809, however, the 
 decision so often contemplated was finally made, 
 and was the result of the liaison with Madame 
 Walewska. When Napoleon was in the apogee 
 of his power and glory he spent three months 
 at Schonbrunn, and during that period Madame 
 Walewska was his companion. When she became 
 enceinte Napoleon's hesitation came to an end ; he 
 determined to have an heir to his throne. 
 
 Z 2 
 
34 Napoleon. 
 
 There is a curious domestic scene told with 
 French verve, and also with that slight spice of 
 cynicism which one finds in most things French 
 when Napoleon was making his final announce^ 
 ments to Josephine. She had fought against the 
 divorce for a long time ; but finally, weak-willed, 
 luxury-loving, very much afraid of her husband, 
 she began to yield. When the final moment 
 approached, however, she could not resist bring- 
 ing into the last action all the batteries of her 
 woman's arts. Napoleon had dined, and then 
 had been left alone with the Empress. M. de 
 Bausset tells what followed : 
 
 " Suddenly I heard loud cries proceeding from 
 the Emperor's drawing-room, and emitted by tha 
 Empress Josephine. The usher, thinking she was 
 ill, was about to open the door, but I prevented 
 him, saying that the Emperor would call for help 
 if he thought right. I was standing near the door 
 when Napoleon opened it, and, perceiving me, said 
 hastily: ' Come in, Bausset, and shut the door/ I 
 entered the drawing-room and saw the Empress 
 lying on the floor uttering piercing cries. ' I shall 
 not survive it/ she kept repeating. Napoleon said 
 to me : f Are you strong enough to lift Josephine 
 and carry her to her apartments, by the private 
 staircase communicating with her room, so that 
 she may have all the care and attention her state 
 requires ? ' With Napoleon's help I raised her in 
 my arms, and he, taking a candlestick off the 
 
Josephine: 341 
 
 table, lighted me and opened the door of the 
 drawing-room. When we reached the head of 
 the staircase, I pointed out to him that it was too 
 narrow for me to carry her down without running 
 the risk of a fall. Napoleon called an attendant, 
 gave him the candle, and himself took hold of 
 Josephine's legs to help me to descend more 
 gently. When she felt the efforts I was making 
 to save myself from falling, she said, in a low 
 voice : ' You are holding me too tightly.' I then 
 saw that I need be under no uneasiness as to her 
 health, and that she had not lost consciousness 
 for a moment. The Emperor's agitation and 
 anxiety were extreme. In his trouble he told me 
 the cause of all that had occurred. His words 
 came out with difficulty and without sequence, 
 his voice was choked and his eyes full of tears. 
 He must have been beside himself to give so 
 many details to me, who was so far from bis 
 councils and his confidence. The whole scene 
 did not last more than seven or eight minutes." 
 
 M. Levy does not give the curious scene which 
 took place when the divorce was being decided 
 on ; it is one of the instances in which Napoleon 
 exhibited that extraordinary sensibility which is 
 one of the contradictions in his strange make-up. 
 I quote the passage as given by Taine : 
 
 " He tosses about a whole night, and laments 
 like a woman ; he melts and embraces Josephine ; 
 he is weaker than she. ' My poor Josephine, I 
 
34 2 Napoleon. 
 
 can never leave you ; ' folding her in his arms he 
 declares that she shall not quit him ; he abandons 
 himself wholly to the sensation of the moment ; 
 she must undress at once, sleep by his side, and 
 he weeps over her. ' Literally/ she says, ' he 
 soaked the bed with his tears.' " 
 
 On the evening of December 15, 1809, Na- 
 poleon and his wife signed the deed annulling the 
 marriage. " The Emperor/' says Mollien, " was no 
 less moved than she, and his tears were genuine." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 AFTER THE DIVORCE. 
 
 AND it is in the few days after the divorce that 
 for the first time in all that strangely busy career 
 every moment of which was devoted to work in 
 some form or another Napoleon for the first time 
 lets sentiment get the better of him, and falls into 
 the idle languor of regret and grief. He left the 
 Tuileries on the very night of the divorce " as if 
 he could not endure the solitude/' and went 
 "almost alone" to the Trianon. He spent three 
 days there all by himself, refusing to see even his 
 Ministers, the first and the last time in all his 
 reign when business was suspended; and two or 
 three days after the divorce he could not keep 
 away from Josephine, and went to visit her at 
 Malmaison, whither she had retired. She re- 
 turned the call a few days later by coming to the 
 Trianon; indeed, the position had that mixture 
 of tragedy and comedy which one sees in those 
 
Josephine. 343 
 
 dramas that set forth the strange surprises that 
 the divorce laws of America sometimes produce. 
 
 " During dinner," says Mademoiselle Avrillon, 
 "the Empress seemed happy and quite at ease, 
 and any one would have thought that their Ma- 
 jesties had never parted." 
 
 He also provided a magnificent income for her 
 eighty thousand pounds, afterwards increased to 
 one hundred thousand pounds. Poor Josephine 
 was not thereby saved from herself; as in the 
 days of her married life she continued to make 
 debts, and over and over again Napoleon had 
 to remonstrate with her. Once he sent M. Mollien 
 as the messenger of his reproaches. 
 
 On his return from Malmaison the Minister 
 informed the Emperor of Josephine's wretched- 
 ness at having displeased him ; Napoleon inter- 
 rupted Mollien, exclaiming, "You ought not to 
 have made her cry ! " 
 
 Josephine, on her side, asked after the child 
 which Napoleon had by his new wife, had it 
 brought to see her ; and, finally, when disaster 
 came upon her husband, offered to rejoin him once 
 more. She died in 1814, before his final overthrow. 
 
 There have been many better women than 
 Josephine, but the same softness, womanliness, 
 weaknesses that gave her the empire she once 
 held over Napoleon's heart, have enabled her to 
 retain a tender place in the memory of posterity. 
 She is one of the popular heroines of the great 
 historic drama. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 MARIE LOUISE.* 
 
 IT is time to tell something of the other woman 
 who played a great part in Napoleon's career : 
 Marie Louise, his second wife. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE CORSICAN OGRE. 
 
 I FIND a very good picture of her in an interest- 
 ing little book called "The Three Empresses." 
 The three Empresses are Josephine, Marie Louise, 
 and Eugenie. The volume is simple, unpreten- 
 tious, rather uncritical ; but the writer is pleasant, 
 sympathetic, and womanly ; and one can spend 
 several pleasant hours in her society and that of the 
 three rather hapless women who are her heroines. 
 
 Nothing could have seemed more unlikely in 
 human affairs than that Marie Louise should be- 
 come the wife of Napoleon. Here is one of the 
 first incidents in her life : 
 
 * " Three Empresses," by Caroline Gearey. (London : 
 Digby, Long, & Co.) "Napoleon et les Femmes," by 
 Frederic Masson. (Paris : Paul Ollendorff.) " The Private 
 Life of Napoleon," by Arthur LeVy. (London : Richard 
 Bentley.) 
 
Marie Louise. 345 
 
 " Some time during the early spring of the year 
 1797, a party of Royal fugitives might have been 
 seen leaving the Austrian capital and hurriedly 
 making their way along the road to Hungary ; 
 the progress of their attendants being somewhat 
 impeded by the many packages of valuable pro- 
 perty which they were endeavouring to save from 
 the enemy. Making one of this party of refugees 
 of the Imperial House of Hapsburg was the little 
 Archduchess, Marie Louise, then a child between 
 five and six years old, c whom our imagination,' 
 writes Sir Walter Scott in his ' Life of Napoleon/ 
 ' may conceive agitated by every species of childish 
 terror derived from the approach of the victorious 
 general, on whom she was at a future and similar 
 crisis destined to bestow her hand." 
 
 And her education, besides, had been carefully 
 devoted towards increasing the hatred of the man 
 who had inflicted this humiliation on her family. 
 For she was brought up "with the truest respect 
 for religion, while she learned to eschew revolu- 
 tionary ideas, more especially as exemplified in 
 the conduct of Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 
 To such an extent was the latter feeling carried, 
 that when Marie Louise used to play as a child 
 with her little brothers and sisters, they were 
 accustomed to select the blackest and ugliest of 
 their dolls, which they dressed in uniform and 
 stuck full of pins, in denunciation of the ogre 
 who was an incarnation of terror to their childish 
 
346 Napoleon. 
 
 minds. The young Archduchess had, too, a lively 
 remembrance of the war in the year 1805, which 
 also brought Austria to the very verge of ruin. 
 The Imperial family had on that occasion been 
 again compelled to flee from their capital, and 
 writing from Hungary, where they had taken 
 refuge, to her father, Marie Louise had endea- 
 voured to console him by the assurance that she 
 prayed daily and hourly that the power of the 
 usurper might be humbled in the dust, cheerfully 
 suggesting that perhaps the Almighty had let 
 him get so far that his ruin might be more com- 
 plete when it came. 
 
 Later on, when Marie Louise heard that Na- 
 poleon had lost the battle of Eckmuhl, she wrote 
 to her father. 
 
 " We have heard with joy," she writes, " that 
 Napoleon was present at the great battle which 
 he lost. May he lose his head as well ! " She 
 then goes on to refer to a prophecy which was 
 current that he would die that year at Cologne, 
 adding : " I do not attach much importance to 
 these prophecies, but how happy I should be to 
 seem them fulfilled." 
 
 " Napoleon appeared to her on a background 
 of blood, a kind of fatal being, a wicked genius, a 
 satanic Corsican, a sort of Antichrist," thus a 
 clever French writer sums up the girl's early im- 
 pressions of her future husband. 
 
 To her he was the murderer of the Duke 
 
Marie Louise. 347 
 
 d'Enghien, the enemy of every crowned head in 
 Europe, the author of the treachery at Bayonne, 
 the persecutor of the Pope, the excommunicated 
 sovereign. 
 
 Finally there was the great, and, as we would 
 have thought, the insuperable obstacle that Na- 
 poleon was the child and embodiment of the 
 French Revolution, and the French Revolution 
 had guillotined Marie Antoinette, the aunt of 
 Marie Louise, but fifteen or sixteen years before. 
 
 n. 
 
 THE REARING OF MARIE LOUISE. 
 
 BUT the rearing of Marie Louise had been of a 
 kind that made her accept pliantly whatever her 
 father thought it her duty to do. I don't know 
 a picture much more repulsive than that of the 
 girlhood of this woman. The French author tells 
 it with the plainness of speech characteristic of his 
 race, and though the passage leaves much to be 
 desired in point of delicacy, it is so true, so life- 
 like, and so instructive a picture, that I cannot 
 refrain from giving it : 
 
 "She was taught a number of languages, 
 German, English, Turkish, Bohemian, Spanish, 
 Italian, French, even Latin, for she is ignorant 
 of where destiny will take her. The more her 
 vocabulary is extended, the more words she has 
 to express the same idea. That is all she wants. 
 
348 Napoleon. 
 
 She has many accomplishments, music and draw- 
 ing, which make a decent and high occupation for 
 idle Princesses. She has just the semblance of 
 religion, restraining her to its minutest practices, 
 but she has been taught how to dispute on the 
 dogmas, for her future husband may be schismatic. 
 As for morals, by a carefully arranged mystery, 
 the Archduchess is allowed to ignore the fact that 
 in nature there exist beings of different sexes. 
 With precautions which only the casuists of the 
 great Spanish schools could conceive of, they strove 
 in every way to safeguard her innocence, going to 
 refinements of modesty that became pruriency. 
 In the yards there were only hens, not a single 
 male bird amongst them ; there were only hen 
 canaries in the cages, no songsters ; there were no 
 male dogs in the rooms, nothing but females. And 
 the books such contemptible books are expur- 
 gated, scissors in hand, pages, lines, even words, 
 cut out, without it ever occurring to the cutters 
 that, in the face of these gaps, even Archduchesses 
 would think. It is true that a governess, an ayah, 
 who afterwards became a great lady, kept a tight 
 rein on even dreams. It was she who held com- 
 plete sway indoors, assisted at the lessons, directed 
 and controlled the games, kept watch over the 
 domestics and the junior schoolmistresses. She 
 did not quit the pupil either day or night. As 
 the care of the Princess was an important matter, 
 and belonged to the domain of politics, the holder 
 
Marie Louise. 349 
 
 of this office changed if the ministers went out 
 of office; Marie Louise had five governesses in 
 eighteen years, but her education was controlled 
 by laws so severe and so strict that, beyond the 
 mutations in the personnel of the establishment, 
 there was no variety for her. 
 
 "For amusement she had those forms which 
 belong to convent life : flowers to cultivate, birds 
 to take care of, sometimes a little frolic on the 
 lawn with the governess's daughter ; on days 
 when she went out she had a familiar intimacy^ 
 very sweet, but very plebeian, with the old uncles 
 who dabbled in painting and music. There was 
 no toilet, no jewellery, no dancing, nor any 
 participation in the gaieties of the Court only 
 some journeys to and from the Diet. The thing 
 which was the most memorable to Marie Louise 
 that which afforded her the greatest break in the 
 routine of life was an occasional flight before a 
 French invasion ; discipline then lost something 
 of its regularity, and her tasks were somewhat 
 slackened. Therefore it is not a woman whom 
 they deliver to Napoleon, it is a child bent to a 
 control so severe, so uniform, and so narrow, that 
 any discipline will be sweet in comparison, and 
 even the least pleasure will be new. 
 
 " But if education has in her case so compressed 
 nature, it need not be feared that nature will 
 not in due course take its revenge. This is the 
 education that the daughters of Marie Therese 
 
35O Napoleon. 
 
 have received, and we have seen Marie Antoinette 
 at work at Versailles, Marie Caroline at Naples, 
 and Marie Amelie at Palma. Doubtless ! But 
 Napoleon imagined that the husbands had not set 
 the right way to work, and he has his plans. The 
 schoolgirl whom he has received will simply pass 
 out of the convent at Schonbrunn into the 
 convent of the Tuileries or Saint- Cloud. There 
 will only be added the husband. There will be 
 the same inflexible regulations, the same rigorous 
 surveillance; no liberty of action, no literature 
 which has not been chosen ; no visits will be 
 allowed to male friends, the ayah will be replaced 
 by a duenna, and four feminine guards will be 
 perpetually on the watch, two at the door, two in 
 the apartment, night and day, like sentinels before 
 the enemy." 
 
 in. 
 
 IPHIGENIA. 
 
 UNDER such circumstances, and with such a 
 training, how could poor Marie Louise regard the 
 marriage to Napoleon as anything but an act of 
 self-sacrifice ? And her own people so fully shared 
 this view that they rather shrank from mentioning 
 the subject to her. Her father excused himself 
 from even hinting at it on the ground of not 
 desiring to even seem to influence her decision; 
 her young stepmother " utterly declined to have 
 anything to do with it," and when Metternich 
 
Marie Louise. 351 
 
 "first put the proposal before the young Arch- 
 duchess, she is said to have listened with much 
 distaste and dismay;" but she presently asked 
 him : " What does my father wish ? " And that, 
 after all, was the one decisive question for her. 
 
 At first Marie Louise, who was much attached 
 to her home and family, could look only on the 
 gloomiest side of the picture, the having to part 
 from them to journey to a country that was 
 strange to her, as the affianced bride of a man 
 whom she had never seen, and whose very name 
 had been a terror to her. But Metternich did 
 his very utmost to reassure her by turning her 
 thoughts to the gaiety and grandeur which awaited 
 her at the French Court, where she would occupy 
 a position in which she would have the whole 
 world at her feet ; while shortly afterwards Na- 
 poleon despatched Count Montesquieu to Vienna 
 with his portrait one of Isabey's exquisite 
 miniatures set in diamonds when gazing at it 
 long and attentively, she observed with an air of 
 relief: "After all, he is not ill-looking." 
 
 IV. 
 EVERLASTING PEACE. 
 
 MEANTIME, every good Austrian thought that the 
 marriage would ensure permanent alliance between 
 France and Austria, and there was a tremendous 
 reaction in Napoleon's favour. Metternich, as 
 
35 2 Napoleon. 
 
 the chief manager of the marriage, was especially 
 popular. To his wife, who had remained in Paris, 
 the diplomatist wrote : 
 
 "All Vienna is interested in nothing but this 
 marriage. It would be difficult to form an idea 
 of the public feeling about it and its extreme 
 popularity. If I had saved the world I could not 
 receive more homage for the part which I am 
 supposed to have played in the matter. In the 
 promotions that are sure to follow I shall have the 
 Golden Fleece." 
 
 The Archduchess herself, too, soon became an 
 object of intense popular interest. Count Otto de 
 Mesloy, the French representative at Vienna, was 
 especially rapturous over the marriage ; for to his 
 eyes it meant that the alliance would " ensure 
 lasting tranquillity to Europe, compel England to 
 make peace, and give the Emperor the necessary 
 leisure for organising the vast empire he has 
 created in accordance with his lofty concep- 
 tions. . . . All humanity will repose beneath the 
 shadow of the laurels of our august Emperor ; 
 and after having conquered half Europe he will 
 add to his numerous victories the most difficult 
 and most consolatory of all the conquest of a 
 general peace." 
 
 It is from his dithyrambic pages that we get 
 the most glowing descriptions of the effect of the 
 prospect on the Viennese. 
 
 " Every morning," writes this enthusiastic 
 
Marie Louise, 353 
 
 courtier, " one may see thousands of curious people 
 station themselves before the Palace, to watch the 
 Archduchess pass on her way to mass. The people 
 are delighted to see her radiant with health and 
 happiness." 
 
 There are several pathetic little circumstances 
 in the period that elapsed between the acceptance 
 of the marriage and the arrival of Marie Louise 
 in France. Thus, what could give a better picture 
 of her girlishness than the following account of an 
 interview she had with Marshal Berthier, who had 
 come to Vienna as Napoleon's representative ? 
 
 " The Archduchess conversed in the most spon- 
 taneous and unaffected manner with Marshal 
 Berthier, telling him that she liked playing the 
 harp, and asking if she would be allowed to take 
 lessons, saying that she was fond of flowers, and 
 so hoped that the Emperor would permit her to 
 have a botanical garden. She also spoke of 
 Fontainebleau, and the wild and picturesque scenery 
 of the forest, adding : ' I like nothing better than 
 beautiful scenery/ She went on to say that she 
 trusted that the Emperor would be indulgent to 
 her, as she did not know how to dance quadrilles, 
 but added that she would be quite willing to take 
 dancing lessons if he wished it." 
 
 ft A 
 
354 Napoleon. 
 
 v. 
 
 THE BRIDEGROOM. 
 
 MEANTIME the expectant bridegroom presents us 
 at this period of his life with a picture which is 
 very unlike that which most of us had formed of 
 him in our imaginings ; a picture in which we can 
 scarcely recognise the cruel, terrible, and fateful 
 being who was able to retain a face impassive as 
 marble in the midst of the carnage of battle-fields, 
 and who sent lightly so many hundreds of thou- 
 sands of human beings to slaughter. The childish 
 excitement, the keen anxiety, the curious out- 
 breaks, even of self-distrust, and what I may call 
 the antics and frivolities of Napoleon at this 
 epoch, are useful as helping to make us under- 
 stand how thoroughly human he was after all. 
 And yet it is a picture which is, on the whole, 
 repellent to me. One of Napoleon's critics de- 
 scribed him as Jupiter Scapin half demigod, 
 half " Merry Andrew." The grotesque puerilities 
 under all this iron mask and in this heart of steel, 
 rather add to the sense of horror at all the gigantic 
 evil he was capable of creating. A man of 
 doom, who was at least consistently grave, self- 
 controlled, and terrible, would be less repellent 
 than this creature of contradictions, at once so 
 lofty and so mean, so awful and so grotesque, so 
 proud and so grovelling. 
 
 But let me tell the story of his acts and 
 
Marie Louise. 355 
 
 thoughts from contemporary records, and leave 
 to the reader the conclusions as to his character. 
 Catherine, daughter of the King of Wurtemberg, 
 who was with Napoleon at the time in Paris, gives 
 an excellent description of Napoleon in a letter to 
 her father : 
 
 " You will never believe, my dear father, how 
 much in love he is with his future wife. He is 
 excited beyond anything I could have imagined, 
 and every day he sends one of his chamberlains, 
 charged, like Mercury, with the missives of Great 
 Jove. He showed me five of these epistles, which 
 certainly were not written by St. Paul, but which 
 really might have been dictated by an ardent 
 lover. He talks of nothing but her, and what 
 concerns her ; I will not enumerate for you all the 
 pleasures and presents he is preparing for her, of 
 which he has given me a detailed account I will 
 content myself with showing you the disposition 
 of his mind by repeating that he told me that, 
 once married, he would give peace to the whole 
 world, and all the rest of his time to Zai're." 
 
 VI. 
 AS A WESTERN ODALISQUE. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S other acts showed his curious self- 
 distrust and incurable suspicion of women a 
 suspicion founded not merely on his unhappy 
 experiences with Josephine, but also on his low, 
 
 2 A 2 
 
356 Napoleon. 
 
 brutal view of the sex. Accordingly, his plans with 
 regard to his new wife are a singular mixture of 
 precaution and indulgence. M. Masson declares 
 that " no man, however high or low in the social 
 scale, was to be allowed to remain even for a 
 moment with the Empress." In short, his idea 
 is that his wife should lead in the West the life 
 of the dwellers in the harem in the East, except 
 that the duenna took the place of the eunuch. 
 But the other side of the system is that Napoleon 
 offers to his young wife all material comforts, 
 just like those that "a Sultan would bestow on 
 his favourite Odalisque." 
 
 " At Vienna Marie Louise never knew what it 
 was to have elegant dresses, exquisite laces, rare 
 shawls, or luxurious underwear. She will have 
 now on condition, however, that no male modiste 
 approaches her, that the selections are made by 
 her ladies-in-waiting everything French industry 
 can produce, all that is novel, that is dear. He 
 gives her a foretaste of all these by the trousseau 
 and jewel-cases which he sends her, every article 
 of which he has seen himself, and has had packed 
 under his own eyes." 
 
 It will make some of the ladies who read this 
 article almost envious when I mention even some 
 of the presents of which Berthier was the bearer to 
 the young bride. 
 
 Among other splendours, says Baron Peyrusse, 
 were a necklace composed of thirty-two groups of 
 
Marie Louise. 357 
 
 stones, valued at 900,000 fr. (^36,000), some ear- 
 rings which had cost 400,000 fr. (; 16,000), and 
 the portrait of Napoleon set in a circle of sixteen 
 single diamonds, valued at 600,000 fr. (,24,000). 
 Napoleon, we see, could be lavish on behalf of a 
 betrothed whose dowry was, after all, a modest 
 one, amounting only to 500,000 fr. (^"20,000). 
 
 VII. 
 THE GILDED CAGE. 
 
 IF I had the space I might give a good many 
 other details from the extraordinarily minute and 
 laborious pages of M. Masson with regard to the 
 gilding of Marie Louise's cage. With the same 
 deadly and appalling quantity of detail which I 
 observed when quoting from him with regard to 
 Josephine, M. Masson has counted up the number 
 of Marie Louise's chemises, dressing-gowns, stock- 
 ings, etc. ; for her toilet alone the new Empress 
 was to have an allowance of 30,000 fr. (1,200) a 
 month, or 360,000 fr. (; 14,400) a year. 
 
 " In Vienna she had nothing but a few poor 
 jewels, which the wife of a bourgeois in Paris would 
 have despised : a few ornaments for her hair, a few 
 small pearls, a few in paste in short, the jewel- 
 case of a ruined Princess. She will have in Paris 
 diamonds such as no Princess ever had before. In 
 Austria she had modest rooms ; in France she will 
 occupy apartments the decoration of which the 
 
35 8 Napoleon. 
 
 Emperor has superintended himself from which 
 everything has been removed that might recall the 
 former occupant apartments which, in whatever 
 palace she may reside, will always have the same 
 little articles of daily use, so that she may every- 
 where find the same things close to her hands and 
 follow the same habits. He himself has superin- 
 tended the selection of all these things also, and 
 their arrangement. He is so proud of his work 
 that he invites everybody to see it. ... Marie 
 Louise, under the system of training to which she 
 was subjected, was never allowed by her gover- 
 nesses to take sweets lest they should injure her 
 digestion; as Napoleon knows that she is a bit of a 
 glutton, and, like all Viennese women, would like 
 to eat sweets and drink coffee every hour, he trans- 
 forms his table, multiplies there sweets, bonbons, 
 confectionery, and provides daily a lunch of pastry 
 alone. . . . She cannot say whether she likes the 
 play or not, for she has never been allowed to go 
 to the theatre; but she would not be a true 
 daughter either of her age or her country if she 
 did not love it. She will now have all kinds of 
 entertainment drama or music as often as she 
 likes, either going with him to the theatres or 
 having private theatricals in her own palaces. Is 
 there anything else she wants ? She can have 
 it dogs, birds, masters of music, painting, or 
 embroidery, all kinds of stamps, every sort of 
 Dunkirk ware everything, in short, on the one 
 
Marie Louise. 359 
 
 condition that she bows to the discipline of the 
 harem, and leads a life similar to that which she 
 has been brought up to expect She will only go 
 out for great ceremonies, civil and religious, to 
 great balls and theatres, to clubs, to salons, to 
 vacations, to State journeys. She will appear then 
 lofty, almost like a goddess, in her great robes, 
 heavy with diamonds, surrounded by a procession 
 of ladies-in-waiting, officials seen from afar off by 
 the people like an idol. Thus does he gild the 
 cage and adorn the prison ; thus does he take pre- 
 cautions for keeping her still a child by amusing 
 her with toys ; thus does he regulate minutely her 
 whole life in order that she may pass without any 
 shock from the state of the captive Archduchess 
 at Schonbrunn to the state of the captive Em- 
 press at Paris. Thus does he ensure her continence, 
 and thus does he place his wife with Caesar's, above 
 and outside of suspicion." 
 
 VIII. 
 THE NEMESIS OF NATURE. 
 
 I CANNOT say whether one should laugh at or 
 weep over all these things when one knows how 
 it all ended ; and is Napoleon to be admired or 
 despised as he goes through all these preparations 
 for his young bride ? On the whole I cannot 
 though it makes him appear rather more good- 
 natured than one had pictured him I cannot say 
 
360 Napoleon. 
 
 that the picture makes me feel a higher respect 
 for his character. There is something essentially 
 vulgar, and perhaps even a little brutal, in it all. 
 Underneath it all lies the idea which pervades his 
 whole existence which is the basis of all his 
 philosophy which makes him in many respects 
 the truest type of the Mephistopheles that real 
 life has created namely, the contempt and the 
 disbelief in everything in human nature except 
 its low baseness and its selfishness. He wants 
 to win the heart of a young woman. "Come, 
 jewellers, architects, dressmakers, pastry-cooks, and 
 prepare all your wares to set before her. Her 
 vanity, her gluttony, her love of all creature 
 comforts these are the only things in her which 
 I know; and as for her passions, the only way 
 by which I can safeguard her and myself from 
 her longing to gratify them is by shutting her 
 up in a French harem" this is the language he 
 really holds to himself about this young girl. 
 If she has a soul, or a heart, Napoleon either 
 does not know or care for their existence. To 
 him at least they have no reality. Has this 
 woman affections ? She has, as a matter of fact, 
 plenty of affection, for it is related of her that 
 she sends to her father, her stepmother, and her 
 brothers and sister everything she can extract 
 out of all those brilliant presents which her 
 husband is showering upon her articles of toilet, 
 furniture, books, precious bits of china amounting 
 
Marie Louise. 361 
 
 in value, it is said, to two hundred thousand francs 
 a year. But Napoleon does not care to think 
 perhaps is incapable of thinking of all this, and 
 makes no attempt to appeal to this worthier, 
 better side of the young girl's nature. It is well 
 to remember all this at this particular moment in 
 the lives of the two ; it throws a curious light on 
 the character of Napoleon ; it is the key to their 
 subsequent relations; above all, it represents the 
 triumph of the simplicity and the spiritual and 
 the humane in human nature over the cold 
 calculations, the material and gross conceptions 
 of its motives and factors by the cynical and the 
 corrupt. 
 
 IX. 
 THE FIRST MEETING. 
 
 WE can find no better revelation, both of 
 Napoleon's essential vulgarity and of his dis- 
 tinctive misunderstanding of the human heart, 
 than his conduct at his first meeting with his 
 wife. His apologists do their best to extenuate 
 and even to eulogise his conduct on this occasion. 
 I shall be surprised if my readers take the same 
 view of the transaction. 
 
 Let us listen, first, to M. Levy, and see how 
 he opens the story of the transaction : 
 
 " As politics had given Napoleon a new wife, 
 he undertook to make the conquest. With this 
 object he invented all sorts of romantic ways of 
 
o 
 
 62 Napoleon. 
 
 pleasing Marie Louise at their first meeting. In 
 the opinion of rigorous observers of Court etiquette, 
 it was no light affair to regulate the first interview. 
 All the technical works bearing on the subject 
 were consulted, precedents were hunted up, the 
 dusty archives sleeping peaceably in corners were 
 routed out, and finally Prince Schwarzenberg 
 discussed with Napoleon, line by line, all these 
 questions of form. Eventually the following 
 solemn dispositions were made : Tents were raised 
 between Compiegne and Soissons, two leagues 
 from the latter town, for the interview between 
 their Majesties. These tents were placed beside 
 the road, with two flights of steps to each, whether 
 from Compiegne or from Soissons. . . . The 
 Emperor, on receiving notice of the Empress's 
 approach, was to leave Compiegne with five 
 carriages, and accompanied by the Princes and 
 Princesses of his family, and by the grand officers 
 of state and of his staff who were to travel with 
 him. . . . The Emperor, on reaching the place 
 intended for the interview, was to leave his 
 carriage, and pass through the first tent on the 
 Compiegne side, in which all the persons of his 
 suite were to remain. The Empress was to pass 
 through the first tent on the Soissons side, leaving 
 there all her suite. It was also arranged that the 
 Emperor and Empress were to meet in the middle 
 tent, where would be placed a cushion, before 
 which the Empress should stop ; that she should 
 
Marie Louise. 363 
 
 curtsey, and that the Emperor, raising her, should 
 embrace her. That a few minutes later their 
 Majesties should enter a carriage holding six 
 persons, with the Princesses; that the grand 
 officers of state and the officers of the staff should 
 accompany the carriage on horseback. Finally, 
 that the two processions should unite, so as to 
 make but one with that of their Majesties at 
 Compiegne." 
 
 Such was the programme ; this is how it was 
 carried out. 
 
 AN ESCAPADE. 
 
 THE scene in the three tents was entirely omitted. 
 As soon as the Emperor heard the Empress had 
 left Vitry for Soissons, " indifferent to his dignity 
 and to formality, he jumped into a carriage with 
 the King of Naples and started off incognito and 
 without his suite." And it should be added that 
 a heavy shower of rain was falling at the same 
 time, and that when he reached the carnage of 
 the Empress at Courcelles, Napoleon was soaked 
 through. I quote the remainder of the scene from 
 M. Levy: 
 
 " He approached her carriage without being 
 recognised, but the equerry, not aware of his 
 intentions, opened the door, let down the steps, 
 and cried 'The Emperor/ Napoleon fell on 
 Marie Louise's neck, who was quite unprepared for 
 
364 Napoleon. 
 
 this somewhat rough and gallant greeting, and 
 then immediately ordered them to drive at full 
 speed to Compiegne, which was reached at ten 
 o'clock at night. They passed at full gallop in 
 front of the tents solemnly erected, and under the 
 very eyes of the arrangers of Court etiquette, who, 
 parchments in hand, saw with amazement these 
 violators of Royal proprieties rush past them. It 
 will, of course, be imagined that the delicate point 
 of the relations between the Emperor and Empress 
 from March 28th (date of the arrival at Com- 
 piegne) to April ist (date of the consecration of 
 the civil marriage), had been carefully thought out. 
 It was expressly stipulated that the Emperor 
 should sleep at the Hotel de la Chancellerie, and 
 not at the Palace, during the stay at Compiegne. 
 On March 28th, at ten o'clock at night, the 
 procession drove up to the Palace. Supper was 
 prepared for their Majesties and all the Court in 
 the Gallery of Francis I. Under the patronage 
 of that gallant monarch, Napoleon addressed to 
 his bride words which were emphasized by im- 
 ploring looks. Marie Louise blushed, and was 
 dumb with astonishment. To overcome the 
 scruples of her who was only his wife by proxy, 
 Napoleon called in the authority of Cardinal 
 Fesch, to whom he said, in presence of the 
 Empress : " Is it not true that we are really 
 married ? " " Yes, sire, according to the civil law," 
 replied the Cardinal, little dreaming of the use to 
 
Marie Louise. 365 
 
 which his answer would be put. The breakfast 
 which Napoleon caused to be served next morning 
 in the room of Marie Louise by her waiting women 
 dispenses us from explaining how the latter part 
 of the protocol was eluded, and why the apart- 
 ments in the Hotel de la Chancellerie did not 
 shelter their august tenant. His valet says : ' After 
 his conversation with the Empress, Napoleon re- 
 tired to his room, scented himself with eau de 
 Cologne, and, clothed only in a dressing-gown, 
 returned secretly to the Empress.' To complete 
 his story, Constant adds : ' Next morning, while 
 dressing, the Emperor asked me whether any one 
 had noticed the way he had broken through 
 the programme.' By his enthusiasm the most 
 powerful monarch in Europe shows us that his 
 temperament has not changed since 1796. The 
 impatience of the Emperor for the arrival of Marie 
 Louise is the same as that of General Bonaparte 
 for Josephine/' 
 
 I leave the reader to form his own opinion of 
 the apologies for this strange scene which the 
 eulogist of Napoleon gives. It does not alter 
 my view of the transaction. I will not weary, 
 and perchance disgust, the reader by adding the 
 even more audacious and franker defences of 
 M. Masson. 
 
 It is pleasanter to be able to record that 
 Napoleon had the apartments at Compiegne 
 arranged so as to give them a home-like ap- 
 
366 Napoleon. 
 
 pearance to the young bride ; she found there her 
 favourite dog, "which she had been persuaded to 
 discard," "some pet birds, and a piece of un- 
 finished tapestry which she had been working when 
 she left the Hoff burg for Vienna." 
 
 XI. 
 A PORTRAIT. 
 
 AND now for a portrait of the young bride. I 
 quote from Miss Gearey : 
 
 "A tall, stately maiden, fresh and youthful, 
 abounding in health and strength, with blue eyes, 
 blonde hair, a pink-and-white complexion, and 
 an expression of innocence and candour. Marie 
 Louise could hardly be styled pretty, and her 
 figure was too much inclined to embonpoint to be 
 really graceful, but she possessed the indefinable 
 charm of youth and the attractions which may be 
 derived from a clear complexion, an abundance of 
 chestnut hair, and an exquisite set of teeth. She 
 is said to have been so indifferent to her personal 
 appearance, and so little fond of dress, that the 
 Emperor himself insisted on superintending the 
 bridal toilet, and stood by while the mistress of 
 the robes placed the crown upon the head of the 
 Empress and arranged the Imperial mantle upon 
 her shoulders." 
 
 There can be fno doubt that Napoleon did his 
 best to recommend himself to his young bride ; 
 
Marie Louise. 367 
 
 his efforts were of the same mixed character as 
 those by which he preceded their marriage. As 
 during his courtship he sought the aid of the tailor 
 and the dancing-master, so during the early days 
 of his marriage he oscillated between grotesque 
 exploits and a considerateness which in one so 
 hard is interesting, and even a little touching. 
 
 " At Court and in society/' says Fouche, " the 
 instructions were to please the young Empress, 
 who, without any return, had captivated Na- 
 poleon; he was quite infatuated about her. The 
 Empress Marie Louise, his young and insignifi- 
 cant wife, was the object of his tenderest care. 
 Napoleon followed her everywhere with loving 
 looks. She saw that he was proud to show her 
 everywhere to everybody." Madame Durand, 
 wife of the General of that name, and principal 
 lady-in-waiting to the Empress Marie Louise, 
 says : " During the first three months following 
 his marriage, the Emperor was day and night 
 with the Empress. The most urgent business 
 could hardly drag him away from her for a few 
 moments." "The Emperor," says Monsieur de 
 Champagny, " was the best husband in the world. 
 It would be impossible for any one to display more 
 delicate and loving attention." 
 
368 Napoleon. 
 
 XII. 
 SELF-DISTRUST. 
 
 METTERNICH tells a curious story which reveals 
 the strange self-distrust of Napoleon before a 
 daughter of the Hapsburgs : 
 
 " I found Napoleon with the Empress. Con- 
 versation turned upon commonplace topics, when 
 Napoleon said to me: 'I wish the Empress to 
 speak openly to you, and tell you candidly what 
 she thinks of her position. You are a friend, and 
 she ought to have no secrets from you.' As he 
 concluded this remark Napoleon locked the 
 door of the drawing-room, put the key in his 
 pocket, and disappeared through another door. 
 I asked the Empress what this scene meant ; she 
 replied by putting the same question to me. See- 
 ing that she had not been prepared beforehand 
 by the Emperor, I guessed that he wished to 
 enable me to gather from the mouth of the Em- 
 press herself some ideas upon her domestic life, 
 so that I might give a favourable report to the 
 Emperor her father. We remained locked up 
 together for nearly an hour, when Napoleon 
 returned, laughing, into the room. 'Well/ said 
 he, * have you had a good talk ? Did the Empress 
 say good or bad things about me ? Did she laugh 
 or cry? I do not ask you for a report; these 
 are secrets between you two, and do not concern 
 any third person, even when that third person is 
 
Marie Louise. 369 
 
 the husband.' Next day Napoleon found an 
 opportunity of speaking to me. ' What did the 
 Empress say to you, yesterday ? ' he asked. * You 
 told me/ I answered, 'that our conversation did 
 not concern a third person. Permit me to keep it 
 a secret.' * The Empress told you/ exclaimed 
 Napoleon, r that she was happy with me, and that 
 she had no complaints to make. I hope that you 
 will repeat it to your Emperor, and that he will 
 believe you rather than other people." 
 
 Indeed, it would appear that for once Na- 
 poleon was conquered, and stood in awe of 
 another human being. This was probably what 
 elicited from his wife the curious, astonishing, 
 historic phrase : " I am not afraid of Napoleon, but 
 I begin to think he is of me." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S FOIBLES. 
 
 AND, indeed, she had abundant reason for coming 
 to this view. He indulges her every whim in- 
 deed, he is on the look-out to anticipate them. 
 He learns that she wants a second set of Brazilian 
 rubies, but finds her purse unequal to the price. 
 The Emperor, " highly pleased with the wisdom of 
 the Empress, and with her methodical disposition, 
 commanded that a second set should be prepared 
 similar to the first, but of the value of between 
 300,000 fr. and 400,000 fr. (,12,000 to ^16,000), 
 
 2 B 
 
370 Napoleon. 
 
 and desired that nothing should be said about 
 what he had heard, or of what he intended to do." 
 
 When New Year's Day approaches, he asks her 
 whether she is not going to send some presents 
 to her sisters. She answers that she had already 
 thought about it, and that she had ordered jewels 
 to the amount of about 25,000 fr. (;i,ooo). As 
 he thinks that rather small, she answers that her 
 sisters were not spoiled as she was, and that they 
 would think their presents magnificent. The 
 Emperor then tells her that he had intended to 
 give her 25,000 fr. for her presents, but that he had 
 thought it over and would give her double that 
 amount (^2,000). Eventually the Empress re- 
 ceives 100,000 fr. (^4,000) from him. 
 
 There is nothing which so much tests the love 
 of married people as the small occurrences of daily 
 domestic life. Even in these things Napoleon 
 yielded to his wife. Child of the warm South, 
 Napoleon was always chilly, could never endure 
 a cold room ; when he was exhausted and wanted 
 to be refreshed, he always found refuge in a par- 
 boiling bath. Even on this point he had to give 
 way to his wife, accustomed to the icy spaciousness 
 of Austrian palaces. 
 
 " During the autumn following his marriage," 
 says Madame Durand, " the Court went to spend 
 some time at Fontainebleau. Fires were lighted 
 everywhere, except in the Empress's room, and 
 she, accustomed to stoves, said that the fire was 
 
Marie Louise. 371 
 
 disagreeable to her. One day the Emperor came 
 to sit with her ; on leaving her room he com- 
 plained of the cold, and desired the lady-in- 
 waiting to have a fire lighted. When the Emperor 
 was gone the Empress countermanded the fire. 
 The lady-in-waiting was Mademoiselle Rabusson, 
 a young lady who had recently come from Ecouen, 
 very simple and outspoken. The Emperor came 
 back two hours later, and asked why his orders 
 had not been executed. 'Sire/ said the lady, 
 ' the Empress will not have a fire. She is in her 
 own rooms here, and I must obey her/ The 
 Emperor laughed heartily at this answer, and, on 
 returning to his own room, said to Marshal Duroc, 
 who happened to be there : c Do you know what 
 has just happened to me in the Empress's apart- 
 ments ? I was told that I was not at home there, 
 and that I could not have a fire/ The answer 
 provided the Castle with amusement for several 
 days." 
 
 XIV. 
 HOUSEHOLD CHANGES. 
 
 NAPOLEON made even greater sacrifices to his 
 wife ; he changed his table and his method of 
 taking his meals. The incessant love of work 
 which was one of his peculiarities, and one of the 
 secrets of his prosperity, never, as we know, had 
 permitted him to spend on his meals even an 
 approach to a proper length of time. Here is a 
 
 2 B 2 
 
372 Napoleon. 
 
 description of him which M. Levy has drawn up- 
 from several different sources, at the period when* 
 he was at the zenith of his glory and his power : 
 
 "The ( pleasure of the table' did not exist 
 for the Emperor. The simplest food was what 
 pleased him best, such as ceufs au miroir (a form 
 of poached egg) ; French beans in salad, na 
 made dishes, a little Parmesan cheese, a little 
 Chambertin mixed with water, was what he liked 
 best. ' In a campaign or on a march/ he wrote to 
 Duroc, Grand Marshal of the Palace, Met all the 
 tables, including mine, be served with soup, boiled 
 beef, a roasted joint, and some vegetables ; no 
 dessert.' Twelve minutes was the time allowed 
 at Paris for dinner, which was served at six' 
 o'clock. Napoleon used to quit the table, leaving 
 the Empress and the other guests to continue 
 their repast. His breakfast, which he ate alone 
 at half-past nine, never lasted more than eight 
 minutes. It was served on a little round mahogany 
 table, without a napkin." 
 
 Now let me contrast with this picture of 
 Napoleon this other, after he had passed under 
 subjection to Marie Louise : 
 
 " He who has hitherto regulated his existence 
 by his business, was now compelled to conciliate, 
 sometimes even to sacrifice his business to the 
 tastes, to the desires, sometimes even the caprices 
 of his wife. His habit had been to lunch alone, 
 rapidly, at the corner of a table, when business 
 
Marie Louise. 373 
 
 permitted him to think of eating at all. Now, at 
 least during the years 1810 and 1811, after 
 which he liberated himself, there was a regular 
 big breakfast at a fixed hour with his wife, a 
 breakfast with one soup, then entrees, one roast, 
 two sweets, four hors-d'oeuvre, and a complete 
 dessert, instead of the four little dishes with which, 
 up to then, he had been content." 
 
 xv. 
 
 HORSEPLAY. 
 
 AND now I complete the picture of Napoleon at 
 this period by an extract which will show him, 
 I will not say in a ridiculous light, but in a 
 grotesque one. This picture reveals that curious 
 mixture of greatness and levity which makes him 
 one of the most astounding amalgams of qualities 
 in human history that amalgam which produced 
 for him the paradoxical epithet of Jupiter Scapin, 
 to which I have already alluded. 
 
 " Since his poverty-stricken youth, solitary and 
 melancholy, there has remained with him when 
 chances of development arrived too late a taste 
 for hand games, noisy and active playfulness. This 
 could not express itself at the right time, and the 
 result is now seen. His forty-one years endeavour 
 to accommodate themselves to the eighteen years 
 of Marie Louise. He is more of a child than she 
 is, with a species of passion for the amusements 
 
374 Napoleon. 
 
 of a schoolboy. See him on horseback pursuing 
 her in a gallop along the terraces of Saint Cloud. 
 The horse bucks, the rider falls and gets up 
 laughing, and crying, 'Breakneck/ See him 
 playing a game of baseball at Malmaison, kicking 
 a football, or amusing himself as ' catch-who-can/ 
 To the life of the cloister prepared for her and which 
 she had wholly accepted, she only proposes one 
 amendment she wishes to ride on horseback, a 
 time-honoured custom for the Princesses of Lor- 
 raine ever since they were freed from maternal 
 tutelage. Marie Antoinette has done the same, 
 and one may remember the similar remonstrance 
 of Marie Therese. Napoleon will not leave to 
 anybody else the task of teaching her to manage 
 a horse. It is he who places the Empress in the 
 saddle, and holding the horse by the bridle, runs 
 alongside. When the learner has to some extent 
 found her seat, each morning after breakfast, he 
 orders one of his horses to be made ready, jumps 
 on its back without taking time to put on his boots, 
 and in the large courtyard where, every ten paces, 
 a stableman is stationed on orderly duty to guard 
 against every fall, he prances near his wife in silk 
 stockings, amusing himself during the gallop with 
 exciting cries, urging on the horses to make them 
 stride out, falling himself more frequently than he 
 wishes. 
 
 "... Marie Louise, up to that time, had only 
 one society trick of which she was proud, that was 
 
Marie Louise. 375 
 
 to be able to move her ear without stirring a 
 muscle of her face. Poor trick ! At present she 
 plays at billiards, for which she has conceived a 
 great liking, and provokes the Emperor, who 
 makes such bad shots that in order to show 
 his superiority he seeks lessons from one of his 
 chamberlains. 
 
 "And always, when she wishes to draw a profile 
 of her husband, for which he poses himself to 
 please her, as he would never do for any painter 
 when she sits at the piano and plays for him 
 German sonatas, which he likes a little ; or when 
 she shows him her needlework, the sash or belt 
 which she has embroidered as a matter of fact, 
 her sewing mistress has done the most of it 
 he is there attentive, absorbed in her, trying to 
 enlighten her, to amuse her, 'his good Louise 
 Marie/ and by his middle-class 'theeing' and 
 'thouing' astonishes his stiff-necked Court, for 
 the husbands of the Faubourg Saint-Germain take 
 care not to use the second person singular to 
 their wives." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 DELICACY. 
 
 ANOTHER story from Metternich reveals another 
 example of Napoleon's curious delicacy in re- 
 monstrating with his wife, as well as that morbid 
 suspicion by which he was constantly haunted. 
 Napoleon had appointed the Duchess of Mon- 
 
376 Napoleon. 
 
 tebello as her duenna. One day Napoleon hears 
 that, while walking in the park at Saint Cloud, 
 the Duchess has presented to the Empress one of 
 her cousins. At once Napoleon sends Metternich 
 to remonstrate. And this is how the account of 
 Metternich goes on. Napoleon is speaking : 
 
 " * The Empress spoke to him, and was wrong 
 in so doing; if she allows all sorts of young men 
 to be presented to her, she will soon fall a prey to 
 intriguers. Every one in France has always a 
 favour to ask. The Empress will be deceived, 
 and, without being able to do any good, will be 
 exposed to a great many annoyances.' I told 
 Napoleon that I shared his views, but that I failed 
 to understand his motives for taking me into his 
 confidence. ' It is,' he replied, ' because I want 
 you to speak to the Empress.' I expressed 
 surprise that he did not speak to her himself. 
 ' The advice is good and wise,' I added, ' and the 
 Empress has much too much sense not to see it.' 
 f I prefer,' he broke in, ' that you should under- 
 take the commission. The Empress is young; 
 she might think me disagreeable. You are her 
 father's minister and a friend of her childhood, 
 and what you say to her will make more im- 
 pression upon her than anything that comes from 
 
Marie Louise. 377 
 
 XVII. 
 A SON. 
 
 AND now, within three months after the marriage, 
 Marie Louise gave signs that she was going to 
 become a mother; and Napoleon is transported. 
 At eight in the morning, on March 2Oth, 1811, 
 after a painful time and some danger, Marie 
 Louise gave birth to the poor child who is known 
 to history as the Duke of Reichstadt. 
 
 The child remained seven minutes without 
 giving a sign of life ; Napoleon glanced at him, 
 thought him dead, and occupied himself solely 
 with the Empress. At last the child emitted a 
 cry, and then the Emperor went and kissed his 
 son. The crowd assembled in the Tuileries 
 gardens awaited with anxiety the delivery of the 
 Empress. A salute of twenty-one guns was to 
 announce a girl, a hundred a son. At the twenty- 
 second report, delirious joy spread among the 
 people. Napoleon, standing behind a curtain at 
 one of the windows of the Empress's room, enjoyed 
 the spectacle of the general intoxication, and was 
 profoundly moved by it. Large tears rolled down 
 his cheeks, of which he seemed to be unconscious, 
 and in that state he came to kiss his son a second 
 time. 
 
Napoleon. 
 
 XVIII. 
 NAPOLEON AS A FATHER. 
 
 NAPOLEON was an indulgent father. Here is a 
 picture of the terrible man whose existence was 
 fatal to so many human beings, on which it is 
 well for a few moments to dwell. 
 
 "Entrance to his study," says Mdneval, "was 
 forbidden to every one. He would not allow the 
 nurse to come in, and used to beg Marie Louise 
 to bring in her son herself; but the Empress was 
 so little sure of her strength when she took him 
 from the arms of the nurse, that the Emperor, who 
 stood waiting for her at the door, used to hasten 
 to meet her, take the child in his arms, and carry 
 him off, covering him with kisses. If he were at 
 his writing-table, about to sign a despatch, of 
 which each word had to be weighed, his son lying 
 on his knees, or pressed against his chest, did 
 not leave him. Sometimes he would drive away 
 the important thoughts that occupied his mind, 
 and, lying down on the ground, would play with 
 this darling son like another child, careful to dis- 
 cover what would amuse him, and to avoid any- 
 thing that teased him. His devotion to and 
 patience with his boy were inexhaustible. The 
 Emperor loved his son passionately ; he took him 
 in his arms every time he saw him, picked him 
 up quickly from the ground, then put him down 
 again, and picked him up again, laughing at the 
 
Marie Louise. 379 
 
 child's amusement. He teased him, carrying him 
 in front of the looking-glass, and making grimaces 
 at him, at which the child laughed till he cried. 
 At luncheon-time he would take him on his knee, 
 and dipping his finger in the sauce, smear his face 
 with it." 
 
 XIX. 
 
 I MUST pass rapidly over the remainder of the 
 story; it is not edifying. When Napoleon's mis- 
 fortunes came, Marie Louise reverted to her old 
 allegiance, and became the dutiful daughter of 
 her father the loyal subject of Austria once 
 again. When Napoleon was defeated, and had 
 to fly to Elba, he hoped, or professed to hope, 
 that his exile would be shared. " In the island 
 of Elba," he said, "I may still be happy with 
 my wife and my son." When his letters from 
 Elba received no answer, he took alarm, and sent 
 messengers, and wrote letter after letter to his 
 absent wife. "I expect/' he says in one, "the 
 Empress at the end of August. I desire her to 
 bring my son, and ... I am surprised at not re- 
 ceiving any news of her." And when he left Elba 
 to begin the gigantic but brief struggle of the 
 Hundred Days, he appealed to the Emperor of 
 Austria not to separate husband and wife, father 
 and son : 
 
 " I am too well acquainted with the principles 
 
380 Napoleon. 
 
 of your Majesty I know too well what value you 
 attach to family ties, not to feel a happy con- 
 viction that you will hasten, whatever may be the 
 inclinations of your Cabinet and your policy, to 
 help me in pressing forward the moment of meet- 
 ing between a wife and her husband, and a child 
 with his father." 
 
 xx. 
 
 NEIPPERG. 
 
 MARIE LOUISE had found another man who 
 obtained over her an ascendency which Napoleon 
 never could attain. The intrigue which ended 
 in making Marie Louise the mistress of Count 
 Neipperg, is obscure ; but there is a general im- 
 pression that Metternich and her own father were 
 responsible for it. Neipperg was a professional 
 lady-killer, was brave, agreeable, a musician, and 
 apparently an amiable man at bottom. While 
 Napoleon was at Elba, Marie Louise was at Aix- 
 les-Bains, with Neipperg in her train. Later on 
 they took an excursion to Switzerland together, 
 and before Napoleon died, she had borne Neipperg 
 at least one child. 
 
 The Powers had bestowed upon her the Duchy 
 of Parma. Neipperg was her Prime Minister, 
 and governed the kingdom well enough to give 
 it prosperity, and to make himself much beloved. 
 She did not see much of her son by Napoleon 
 an unhappy and interesting boy, over whose early 
 
Marie Louise. 381 
 
 death sinister rumours have been secretly current 
 ever since. I have no time to tell that poor lad's 
 pathetic story. The scanty pictures we have of 
 him leave a pleasant impression. He was always 
 attached to the memory of his father, showed 
 an early love for a soldier's life, and dreamed 
 constantly of a great future. But his tiny life 
 was brief he died of consumption. The best 
 epitaph on his career was his own. A cradle 
 had been presented to him when he was a new- 
 born baby by the Viennese, and it was restored 
 to the Schatzzimmer, or Treasury, at Vienna ; 
 and the Treasury was not far from the Capuchin 
 Church in Vienna, where the bodies of the Haps- 
 burg family lie. This will explain the saying of 
 the young Prince. 
 
 " My cradle and my grave will be near to 
 each other," said the Prince, when he was lying 
 ill. " My birth, and my death, that is my whole 
 history." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 1L SERENISSIMO. 
 
 THE memory of Napoleon seems to have made 
 little impression on Marie Louise. She declared 
 afterwards that she had never loved him. Years 
 after Napoleon's death, referring to her first mar- 
 riage, she said, " I was sacrificed." When somebody 
 asked her how she felt the change from the dignity 
 of an Empress to the poor status of a Grand 
 Duchess, she exclaimed : 
 
382 Napoleon. 
 
 "Ah, my God, I am happier here; and that 
 period of my life only lives in my memory as a 
 miserable dream." 
 
 She herself gave the best explanation of the 
 kind of character which the training of a Court 
 produces in its women. 
 
 " We Princesses," she said, " are not brought 
 up as other women, nor with the same family 
 sentiments. We are always prepared for events 
 which may transport us from our relatives and 
 give us new and sometimes antagonistic interests. 
 Look at my poor sister who went to live in Brazil, 
 unhappy and far from all belonging to her." 
 
 It was, perhaps, this training that enabled her 
 to so easily change her allegiance, to so calmly 
 bear her transformations of fortune. Even the 
 death of Napoleon seems to have made little 
 impression on her. 
 
 " According to a letter written by Count 
 Neipperg to Prince Metternich, and quoted by 
 M. Saint-Amand, she puts on mourning (but not 
 widow's weeds), while the members of her house- 
 hold were ordered to wear it for three months. 
 Two funeral services were celebrated in honour of 
 the man who had once stood in the relation of 
 husband to the Duchess of Parma, while a notice 
 of his death was at the same time inserted in the 
 Gazette de Panne. The astute and diplomatic 
 Neipperg actually wrote to inform Prince Metter- 
 nich that this insertion had appeared without any 
 
Marie Louise. 383 
 
 reference to the title of Emperor or ex-Emperor, 
 or the names of Napoleon or Bonaparte, which he 
 was pleased to remark were { inadmissible/ and 
 could only serve to wound the heart of Her 
 Majesty the Duchess. It had therefore been 
 arranged that the mighty conqueror, before whose 
 prowess all Europe had once trembled, should 
 have a funeral service held in his honour under 
 the style and title of// Serenissimo! a conveniently 
 vague term which, according to Neipperg, might be 
 indiscriminately applied to any degree of princely 
 gradation." 
 
 " Nothing could be more delicious than this 
 Napoleon's name masked under the alias of // 
 Serenissimo I Perhaps the irony is even greater 
 that his death gave his widow welcome relief, 
 allowed her first to marry Neipperg, and after- 
 wards to descend, after Neipperg's death, on 
 Count Bombelles, a French officer in the Austrian 
 service. To Bombelles she left the greater part of 
 her fortune when she died in 1 847, at the age of 
 fifty-six. Meantime, 1840 had come, and the 
 second funeral of Napoleon ; the apotheosis that 
 ended in that tomb in the Invalides, at which I 
 stood gazing the other day. And so even 
 Neipperg and Marie Louise and the Gazette de 
 Parme proved of no avail. Napoleon's name is 
 still spoken. // Serenissimo I It was sublime ! " 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 NAPOLEON'S LAST VOYAGES.* 
 
 ADMIRAL USSHER was one of the many gallant 
 Irishmen who have served the British Empire on 
 sea. He took a prominent and a brave part in the 
 naval engagements between England and France 
 during the reign of Napoleon. In April, 1814, he 
 was stationed off Toulon, and so he came un- 
 expectedly to play a prominent part in one of the 
 closing scenes of Napoleon's life. It was he who 
 took Napoleon to Elba after the first abdication. 
 
 AN ADVENTUROUS ENTERPRISE. 
 
 THE narrative in which he described this great 
 adventure is simple, straightforward, often sub- 
 limely and heroically unconscious. I cannot 
 imagine anything more striking than the calm way 
 in which the author describes what must have ap- 
 peared, to any but a fearless man, a dare-devil and 
 almost certainly fatal enterprise. As thus : On 
 
 * " Napoleon's Last Voyages," the Diaries of Admiral 
 Ussher and John R. Glover. (London : Fisher Unwin.) 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 385 
 
 April 24th, 1814, he observed, at ten o'clock at 
 night, a brilliant light in the direction of Marseilles, 
 " which," he says, " I conjectured was an illumina- 
 tion for some important event." This was all he 
 had to go upon, yet he made no hesitation as to 
 his proper course ; and here is what followed : , 
 
 " Every sail was then set on both ships, and 
 every exertion was made to work up the bay. At 
 daybreak we were close off the land. All was 
 apparently quiet in the batteries, and not a flag 
 flying ; nor were the telegraphs at work, which 
 was uniformly the case on the approach of the 
 enemy. Everything betokened that some great 
 change had taken place. The morning was serene 
 and beautiful, with a light wind from the south- 
 ward. Eager to know what had happened, but 
 above all anxious to hear (for who that has once 
 experienced the horrors and miseries of war can 
 wish for its continuance ?) that peace had been 
 restored, I sailed in toward the island of Pome'gue^ 
 which protects the anchorage of the bay of Mar- 
 seilles. To guard against a surprise, however, 
 should such be attempted, I took the precaution 
 of clearing the ship for action, and made signal to 
 the Euryalus to shorten sail, that in the event 
 of the batteries opening unexpectedly upon the 
 Undaunted my friend Captain Napier, by whose 
 judgment and gallant conduct I had on other 
 occasions profited, might render me any assistance, 
 in the event of my being disabled. We now 
 
 2 c 
 
386 Napoleon. 
 
 showed our colours, and hoisted at the main a flag 
 of truce, and the Royal Standard of the Bour- 
 bons, which the ship's tailor had made during the 
 night. This flag had not been displayed on the 
 French coast for a quarter of a century. Thus 
 equipped, we were allowed to approach within 
 gunshot, when we observed men coming into the 
 battery, and almost immediately a shot struck us 
 on the main deck. Finding it was not their 
 intention to allow us to proceed, I gave orders to 
 wear ship, and hauled down the flag of truce and 
 standard. While wearing, a second shot was 
 fired, which dropped under the counter. This 
 unusual and unwarrantable departure from the 
 rules of civilised warfare I resolved to notice in 
 the only way such attacks ought to be noticed, 
 and determined at once, in the promptest and 
 most energetic way, to convince our assailants 
 that under no circumstances was the British flag 
 to be insulted with impunity. I therefore again 
 wore round, and, arriving within point-blank shot 
 of the battery, poured in a broadside that swept 
 it completely, and in five minutes not a man was 
 to be seen near the guns. It was entirely aban- 
 doned. I now made sail for a second battery, 
 and by a signal directed the Euryalus to close, 
 intending to anchor off the town. Shortly after- 
 ward, observing a boat with a flag of truce 
 standing out of the harbour, I shortened sail to 
 receive it. On coming alongside, I found she had 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 387 
 
 on board the mayor and the municipal officers of 
 Marseilles, who had come from the town to 
 apologise for the conduct pursued by the batteries, 
 intimating that it was an unauthorised act of 
 some of the men. They informed me of the 
 abdication of Napoleon." 
 
 What splendid rashness this entrance into 
 a great and well-guarded city with a single ship, 
 simply because " I conjectured " there had been 
 some " important event " ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 MARSEILLES AFTER THE ABDICATION. 
 
 HOWEVER, fortune favoured the brave, and Captain 
 Ussher soon had abundant evidence that the 
 invader was welcome. I know few pictures which 
 bring home to the mind so clearly the absolute 
 horror and despair which Napoleon's career had 
 at last produced, as that to be found in the pages 
 of Admiral Ussher. The gallant officer landed, 
 and here is what happened : 
 
 " Never did I witness such a scene as now 
 presented itself, as, almost choked by the em- 
 braces of old and young, we were hoisted on 
 their shoulders and hurried along we knew not 
 whither. I certainly did not envy the situation of 
 my friend Captain Napier, whom I saw most 
 lovingly embraced by an old lady with one eye, 
 
 2 c 2 
 
388 Napoleon. 
 
 from whom he endeavoured in vain to extricate 
 himself, not using, I must say, the gentlest terms 
 our language affords. In this way we arrived at 
 the Hotel de Ville, amid loud cries of 'Vive 
 les Anglais ! ' We were received by our friends 
 who had come with the flag of truce in the 
 morning, but who were evidently not prepared for 
 such a visit from us now. . . . They now politely 
 requested us to wait upon the general in command. 
 We found that officer attending High Mass at the 
 cathedral, and it is hardly possible to describe 
 his astonishment, and the excitement caused by 
 seeing two British naval officers, in their uniforms, 
 in the midst of the congregation. I went up to 
 the general, who received me with much apparent 
 cordiality, and with considerable tact (for we were 
 at the time the greater * lion ' of the two) invited 
 us to join the procession (I think it was that of the 
 Virgin), for which preparations had been made, 
 and which was about to set out from the church 
 where we then were. The streets through which 
 we passed were excessively crowded, so much so 
 that it was with the utmost difficulty the pro- 
 cession could make its way at all. The predomi- 
 nance of old people and children among the crowd 
 was remarkable. Commenting upon this to some 
 of the municipal officers, I was told that this 
 was caused by the conscription, which had swept 
 off without distinction (like another plague) all 
 the young men who were capable of bearing arms, 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 389 
 
 causing indescribable misery not only here, but 
 everywhere throughout France, Happy indeed 
 were these poor people at seeing us among them, 
 the harbinger of peace, which many of them had 
 so long and ardently desired. That this was the 
 prevailing feeling among them their whole de- 
 meanour amply testified, as with loud vociferations 
 of f Vive les Anglais ! ' they plainly told us that 
 we were not unwelcome visitors." 
 
 It is well to always bring into relief the 
 terrible consequences of Napoleon's campaigns 
 in the decimation of the French population. 
 People who, in despair at the divisions, the 
 squalors, and the helplessness of French political 
 life, sigh for the return of a great autocrat, 
 always ignore this feature in the career of 
 Napoleon. When somebody said that the 
 picture of Napoleon still occupied a place in 
 every cottage in the land, the obvious and just 
 retort was made that if it had not been for 
 Napoleon the place would have been occupied 
 by the picture of the eldest son of the family, 
 whom Napoleon had sent to premature and 
 awful death. 
 
 in. 
 
 THE FALLEN EMPEROR. 
 
 FROM Marseilles Admiral Ussher went on to 
 Frejus, from which Napoleon was to embark 
 for Elba. He found the fallen Emperor in " Le 
 
390 Napoleon. 
 
 Chapeau Rouge," the small and solitary inn of 
 the place. 
 
 " Napoleon was dressed in the regimentals 
 of the Old Guard, and wore the star of the 
 Legion of Honour. He walked forward to meet 
 us, with a book open in his hand, to which he 
 occasionally referred when asking me questions 
 about Elba and the voyage thither. He received 
 us with great condescension and politeness ; his 
 manner was dignified, but he appeared to feel 
 his fallen state. Having asked me several 
 questions regarding my ship, he invited us to 
 dine with him, upon which we retired. Shortly 
 afterwards I was waited upon by Comte Bertrand, 
 who presented us with lists of the baggage, 
 carriages, horses, etc., belonging to the Emperor. 
 I immediately made arrangements for receiving 
 them, and then demanded an interview with the 
 several envoys of the allied Sovereigns, feeling 
 that, being placed in a position of such peculiar 
 responsibility and delicacy, it was necessary to 
 hear from them the instructions they had re- 
 ceived from their respective sovereigns that I 
 might shape my conduct accordingly, and par- 
 ticularly that I might learn from them what cere- 
 mony was to be observed at Napoleon's embarka- 
 tion, and on arriving on board the Undaunted, as 
 I was desirous to treat him with that generosity 
 toward a fallen enemy which is ever congenial to 
 the spirit and feelings of Englishmen." 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 391 
 
 Napoleon always kept a friendly recollection 
 of Admiral Ussher ; one can see in these sentences 
 the origin of the feeling. 
 
 IV. 
 DEPARTURE FOR ELBA. 
 
 IT was characteristic of the desire of France to 
 get rid of Napoleon that Ussher was woke up 
 at four o'clock in the morning after he had 
 dined with Napoleon, "by two of the principal 
 inhabitants," "who had come into my room to 
 implore me to embark the Emperor as quickly 
 as possible," intelligence having been received 
 that the army of Italy, lately under the command 
 of Eugene Beauharnais, was broken up ; that 
 the soldiers were entering France in large bodies. 
 
 These fears were not, apparently, altogether 
 groundless, for Ussher observed that Napoleon 
 " was in no hurry to quit the shores of France." 
 Under the circumstances, Ussher was requested 
 by the representatives of the Powers to gently 
 force the Emperor to leave, and this he did 
 with much combined firmness and tact : 
 
 " I demanded an interview, and pointed out to 
 the Emperor the uncertainty of winds, and the diffi- 
 culty I should have in landing in the boats should 
 the wind change to the southward and drive in a 
 swell upon the beach, which, from the present 
 appearance of the weather, would in all proba- 
 
39 2 Napoleon. 
 
 bility happen before many hours ; in which case I 
 should be obliged, for the safety of His Majesty's 
 ship, to put to sea again. I then took leave and 
 went on board. . . . Napoleon, finding that it was 
 rny determination to put to sea, saw the necessity 
 of yielding to circumstances. Bertrand was ac- 
 cordingly directed to have the carriages ready at 
 seven o'clock. I waited on the Emperor at a 
 quarter before seven to inform him that my barge 
 was at the beach. I remained alone with him in 
 his room at the town until the carriage which was 
 to convey him to the boat was announced. He 
 walked up and down the room, apparently in deep 
 thought. There was a loud noise in the street, 
 upon which I remarked that a French mob was 
 the worst of all mobs (I hardly know why I made 
 this remark). ' Yes/ he replied, c they are fickle 
 people ; ' and added : ' They are like a weather- 
 cock/ At this moment Count Bertrand an- 
 nounced the carriages. He immediately put on 
 his sword, which was lying on the table, and said : 
 * Allons, Capitaine.' I turned from him to see 
 if my sword was loose in the scabbard, fancying 
 I might have occasion to use it. The folding- 
 doors, which opened on a pretty large landing- 
 place, were now thrown open, when there appeared 
 a number of most respectable-looking people, the 
 ladies in full dress, watting to see him. They 
 were perfectly silent, but bowed most respectfully 
 to the Emperor, who went up to a very pretty 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 393 
 
 young woman in the midst of the group and asked 
 her, in a courteous tone, if she were married, and 
 how many children she had. He scarcely waited 
 for a reply, but, bowing to each individual as he 
 descended the staircase, stepped into his carriage, 
 desiring Baron Roller, Comte Bertrand, and me to 
 accompany him. The carriage immediately drove 
 off at full speed to the beach, followed by the 
 carriages of the envoys. The scene was deeply 
 interesting. It was a bright moonlight night, 
 with little wind ; a regiment of cavalry was drawn 
 up in a line upon the beach and among the trees. 
 As the carriages approached the bugles sounded, 
 which, with the neighing of the horses, and the 
 noise of the people assembled to bid adieu to 
 their fallen chief, was to me in the highest degree 
 interesting." 
 
 v. 
 NAPOLEON'S POWERS OF OBSERVATION. 
 
 NAPOLEON soon began to reveal that extraordinary 
 power of observation, tenacity of memory, and 
 mastery of detail which did so much to account 
 for his greatness in war. " Nothing," writes Ussher, 
 41 seemed to escape his observation." When a 
 question arose as to where the ship should anchor 
 on the Corsican shore, Napoleon "proposed Calvi, 
 with which he was perfectly acquainted, mention- 
 ing the depth of the water, with other remarks on 
 the harbour, etc., which convinced me that he 
 
394 Napoleon. 
 
 would make us an excellent pilot had we touched 
 there." Talking to an English lieutenant who 
 had been in charge of the transports that brought 
 to Elba Napoleon's horses, baggage, etc., he "gave 
 a remarkable proof of his retentive memory." 
 Lieutenant Bailey informed him that after the 
 Guards had embarked a violent gale of wind arose, 
 with a heavy sea, which at one time threatened 
 the destruction of the transports, and that he 
 considered Savona a dangerous anchorage. Na- 
 poleon remarked that if he had gone to a small 
 bay (I think it was Vado) near Savona, he might 
 have lain there in perfect safety. 
 
 VI. 
 RULER OF ELBA. 
 
 THE other quality of Napoleon which comes out 
 most vividly from Ussher's narrative, was the 
 facility with which he settled down to the work 
 of governing his little island. Think of the awful 
 strain through which he had passed for all these 
 years, and especially in those which immediately 
 preceded his overthrow, and then wonder at 
 the vast power of recovery he showed when 
 he was able to sit down for hours and dis- 
 cuss with an English naval officer the new flag 
 which he was going to give to Elba ! And when 
 the time came for him to land, he went through 
 the ceremony of taking possession of his little 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 395 
 
 territory as imperially as though he were entering 
 Paris. And immediately he set to practical work, 
 as though the smallest affairs of this little king- 
 dom were as much worthy of attention as even 
 the world-stirring events in which he had been 
 playing the principal part for nearly twenty years. 
 Take this entry, for instance : 
 
 " May 5. At four a.m. I was awakened by 
 shouts of ' Vive 1'Empereur ! ' and by drums 
 beating ; Napoleon was already up, and going on 
 foot over the fortifications, magazines, and store- 
 houses. At ten he returned to breakfast, and at 
 two mounted his horse, and I accompanied him 
 two leagues into the country. He examined 
 various country houses, and gave some money to 
 all the poor we met on the road. At seven he 
 returned to dinner." 
 
 And, again, on May 6, the following day, we 
 have a somewhat similar entry : 
 
 " Already he had plans in agitation for con- 
 veying water from the mountains to the city. It 
 appears always to have been considered by him of 
 the first importance to have a supply of good 
 water for the inhabitants of towns, and upon this 
 occasion it was evidently the first thing that 
 occupied his mind, having, almost immediately 
 after arrival, requested me to go with him in the 
 barge in search of water." 
 
 And, again, watch him on May 7 : 
 
 " May 7. Napoleon was employed visiting the 
 
Napoleon. 
 
 town and fortifications. After breakfast he again 
 embarked in the barge, and visited the different 
 storehouses round the harbour." 
 
 And two final extracts will give an even better 
 idea of how this marvellous creature could rise 
 superior to the worst reverses of fortune. It is 
 the entry under date May 9 : 
 
 "May 9. This day I accompanied Napoleon to 
 Longone, where we lunched amid repeated cries of 
 ' Vive 1'Empereur ! ' . . . Instead of returning by 
 the same road,, he turned off by goat-paths to 
 examine the coast, humming Italian airs, which he 
 does very often, and seemed quite in spirits/' 
 
 And on the evening of the second day " he 
 entered upon the subject of the armies and their 
 operations at the close of the last campaign, and 
 continued it for half an hour, until he rose from 
 table. After passing into the presence-chamber, 
 the conversation again turned on the campaign, 
 his own policy, the Bourbons, etc., and he con- 
 tinued talking with great animation till midnight, 
 remaining on his legs for three hours." 
 
 In this last scene Napoleon is quite himself. 
 Everybody familiar with his character and de- 
 meanour will know that he was a tremendous 
 talker. It was only on the battle-field that he 
 maintained the immobile face and the sphinx- 
 like silence which he believed necessary to main- 
 tain the morals of his army; in private he had 
 all the excessive mobility, the great love of con- 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 397 
 
 versation, and the high powers of rhetoric which, 
 came to him from his Italian blood. 
 
 VII. 
 THE VOYAGE TO ST. HELENA. 
 
 IT will be seen that Napoleon made almost a 
 conquest of the heart of Ussher, that he was 
 treated still as a Royalty, and that accordingly 
 the narrative of the British officer is sympathetic 
 and even eulogistic. The other narrative that 
 which describes the voyage to St. Helena is 
 written in a very different spirit. Even those 
 who do not love Napoleon cannot feel altogether 
 pleased with the almost studied rudeness with 
 which the fallen Emperor was treated on board 
 the Northumberland. Here, for instance, is how 
 Napoleon was treated on the question of cabin 
 accommodation : 
 
 " The Admiral after this went into the after- 
 cabin with some of the officers, and rinding 
 Bonaparte seemed to assume an exclusive right 
 to this cabin, he desired Marechal Bertrand to 
 explain that the after-cabin must be considered 
 as common to us all, and that the sleeping cabin 
 could alone be considered as exclusively his. 
 Bonaparte received this intimation with submission 
 and apparent good-humour, and soon after went 
 on deck, where he remained a considerable time, 
 asking various questions of each officer of trifling 
 
398 Napoleon. 
 
 import. He particularly asked Sir George 
 Bingham and Captain Greatly to what regi- 
 ments they belonged, and when told that Captain 
 Greatly belonged to the Artillery, he replied 
 quickly, * I also belong to the Artillery.' After 
 conversing on deck for some time, this ex- 
 Emperor retired to the cabin allotted him as 
 a sleeping cabin, which is about nine feet wide 
 and twelve feet long, with a narrow passage 
 leading to the quarter-gallery. The Admiral had 
 a similar sleeping cabin on the opposite side. 
 The after-cabin is our general sitting-room, and 
 the fore-cabin our mess-room ; the others of the 
 party are accommodated below by the captain 
 and some of the officers giving up their cabins, 
 and by building others on the main-deck. Thus 
 this man, who but a short time since kept 
 nations in dread, and had thousands at his nod, 
 has descended from the Emperor to the General 
 with a flexibility of mind more easily to be 
 imagined than described. He is henceforth to 
 be styled General, and by directions from our 
 Government, he is to have the same honours 
 and respect paid him as a British General not 
 in employ." 
 
 VIII. 
 A CAGED LION. 
 
 THE picture of Napoleon at table is not inviting. 
 It seems that he there preserved his bad manners 
 to the end : 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 399 
 
 "At six p.m. dinner was announced, when 
 we all sat down in apparent good spirits, and 
 our actions declared our appetites fully equal 
 to those spirits. General Bonaparte ate of every 
 dish at table, using his fingers instead of a fork, 
 seeming to prefer the rich dishes to the plain- 
 dressed food, and not even tasting vegetables. 
 Claret was his beverage, which he drank out of 
 a tumbler, keeping the bottle before him. He 
 conversed the whole of dinner time. . . . After 
 dinner he did not drink wine, but he took a 
 glass of noyau after his coffee, previous to rising 
 from table. After dinner he walked the 
 deck, conversing principally with the Admiral. 
 . . . After walking for some time he proposed 
 a round game at cards, in compliance with which 
 the Admiral, Sir George Bingham, Captain Ross, 
 and myself assembled with General Bonaparte 
 and his followers in the after-cabin, where we 
 played at vingt-un [stc] (which was the game 
 chosen by the Emperor) till nearly eleven o'clock, 
 when we all retired to our beds." 
 
 I have given one specimen of the kind of petty 
 humiliations to which Napoleon was exposed ; here 
 is another : 
 
 " He sat but a short time at dinner, and then 
 went on deck, where he walked, keeping his hat 
 off, and looking round steadfastly and rather 
 sternly to see if the British officers did the same. 
 However, as the Admiral, after saluting the deck 
 
400 Napoleon. 
 
 put his hat on, the officers did the same (the 
 Admiral having previously desired that the officers 
 should not be uncovered), and thus not a British 
 head was uncovered, at which he was evidently 
 piqued, and soon retired to the after-cabin. His 
 followers were constantly uncovered in his presence, 
 and watched his every motion with obsequious 
 attention. About eight p.m., General Gourgaud 
 begged of us to join the vingt-un party, which the 
 Admiral, Sir George Bingham, Captain Ross, and 
 myself did, and played until about half-past nine, 
 when Bonaparte retired to bed. During this 
 evening he talked but little and appeared sulky ; 
 however, this produced no alteration in our manner 
 toward him, neither was he paid more respect 
 than any other officer present." 
 
 And here comes a delicious revelation of the 
 difficulties with which human nature repressed 
 itself in spite of violent political prejudices. I have 
 italicised a sentence in this passage : 
 
 " His fellow prisoners are ever uncovered in. 
 his presence, and in speaking to him invariably 
 address him either ( Sire ' or ' Votre Majeste/ but 
 the Admiral, as well as the officers, at all times 
 addressed him as General. However, the difficulty 
 of repressing the inclination to pay him marked 
 attention is evident, and the curiosity of both officers 
 and men in watching his actions is very easily 
 perceived." 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 401 
 
 IX. 
 
 LIFE IN ST. HELENA. 
 
 IN this narrative, as in that which I began, there 
 is the same remarkable evidence of an almost 
 complete recovery of spirits by Napoleon. There 
 are constant entries to the effect that he seemed 
 in excellent spirits, and spoke constantly to the 
 Admiral. Sometimes he is spoken of as in " un- 
 commonly high spirits," and sometimes, when he 
 plays cards, he is one of as " noisy a group as ever 
 assembled on such an occasion." 
 
 After his landing in St. Helena, his real decline 
 of health and spirits began, and there is something 
 saddening in the contrast between the comparative 
 tranquillity, and even liveliness, of his spirits on 
 board the vessel, and the beginning of that fight 
 with not too chivalrous guardians, which broke 
 him down and killed him at a comparatively early 
 age. One of his susceptibilities was as to the 
 presence near him of British soldiers. 
 
 Talking of Longwood House, this is what the 
 narrator says : 
 
 " From the house you have a commanding view 
 to the eastward of the sea and the shipping, and 
 to the northward the camp of the 53rd forms a 
 pleasing object in the foreground to any one except 
 Bonaparte, who seems to loathe the sight of a 
 British ^soldier, and at whose particular request 
 
 2 D 
 
4O2 Napoleon. 
 
 great pains were taken to place the camp out of 
 his sight. But this could not be done without 
 giving up the very best situation for a camp." 
 
 Finally, Napoleon began to be even forgotten 
 by the people among whom his lot was cast : 
 
 ' ' Bonaparte leads a secluded life, few or none 
 ever going near him, although no person of 
 respectability has been refused a pass when asked 
 for ; but so little is he now thought of that his 
 name is seldom or never mentioned, except on the 
 arrival of a ship. Indeed, the inhabitants express 
 so little curiosity that two-thirds of them have not 
 yet seen him (although he has been to St. Helena 
 eight months), nor do they ever seem inclined to 
 go a hundred yards out of their way for that 
 purpose. Even Mrs. Wilkes, the wife of the late 
 Governor, although she was six months in the 
 island after he arrived, went away without seeing 
 him, whereas the curiosity of the passengers going 
 home from India has almost exceeded credibility." 
 
 x. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S SELFISHNESS. 
 
 FINALLY, our bluff English observer is disgusted 
 by Napoleon's selfishness in the small affairs of 
 daily life, and this is his estimate of his character 
 and manners : 
 
 " Greatness of mind or character, in my opinion, 
 he does not possess, very frequently acting like a 
 
Napoleon's Last Voyages. 403 
 
 mere spoilt child. Feeling I consider him devoid 
 of. Every religion is alike to him, and did I 
 believe there existed such a being as an Atheist, 
 I should say Bonaparte is that being. Of those 
 about him, he seems neither to care nor feel for 
 the privations they undergo from their blind and 
 infatuated attachment to him, which many of 
 his actions prove, and which the following cir- 
 cumstance, which occurred during the passage 
 out, will show. Madame Bertrand had been con- 
 fined to her cabin by serious illness for ten days 
 or a fortnight. On her appearing in the cabin, 
 we all congratulated her on her recovery. This 
 was in the forenoon, and about two o'clock 
 Bonaparte came into the cabin, and sat down 
 to play at chess with General Montholon. At 
 this time Madame Bertrand was below, but soon 
 after made her appearance, seemingly to pay 
 her devoirs to this once great man. Putting on 
 one of her best smiles, she approached the table 
 where he was playing, and where she stood by 
 his side silent for some time, no doubt in anxious 
 expectation of receiving the Emperor's con- 
 gratulations, which would have amply repaid all 
 sufferings she had undergone. But in this, dis- 
 appointment alone was her portion, for he merely 
 stared her steadfastly in the face, and then con- 
 tinued his game of chess without taking the 
 slightest further notice. She, evidently piqued, 
 quitted the table, and came over to the other 
 
 2 D 2 
 
404 Napoleon. 
 
 side of the cabin, where she sat by me on the 
 sofa until dinner was announced, when the Admiral, 
 as he usually did, handed her to her seat. Even 
 sitting down at table he took not the slightest 
 notice of her, but began eating his dinner. During 
 the dinner, missing the bottle of claret which 
 usually stood before him, and Madame Bertrand, 
 ever watchful of his motions, having handed him 
 one which was near her, he very condescendingly 
 exclaimed, ' Ah ! comment se porte madame ? ' 
 and then very deliberately continued his meal. 
 This, and this alone, was all the notice the long 
 and serious illness of his favourite drew forth." 
 
 It will be seen that these two narratives, though 
 they cannot be described as inspired or luminous, 
 are valuable additions to our knowledge of a 
 man whose tyranny over the imagination and 
 the interest of mankind Time seems to have no 
 power of diminishing. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 A FINAL PICTURE. 
 
 ONE afternoon I stood by the tomb of Napoleon 
 in the Invalides in Paris, and I can never forget 
 the strange, weird, indescribable feeling which 
 came over me as I looked down amid the sur- 
 rounding silence on the mass of brown-red marble 
 which enclosed his remains. What brings so 
 strong a sense of the emptiness and transitoriness 
 of life as standing face to face with the unbreak- 
 able stillness of death especially when the ashes, 
 laid low and still, created such wild and cyclonic 
 tumult in their living day as those of Napoleon ? 
 In the cold and majestic isolation of his tomb 
 far from the side of Josephine, who lies in quiet 
 and gentle rest ; far from that other consort who 
 never really loved him far from the Countess 
 Walewska one of the most pathetic and touching 
 figures in his strange and fierce life ; far from the 
 poor boy over whose cradle he more than once 
 was seen to be in mournful forecast of his joyless 
 destiny ; above all, far from those wild shouts and 
 hurrahs of mighty armies which found in his 
 word and eye that inspiration to meet and defeat 
 numbers, dangers, and death alone he lies in 
 death as he lived in life. The whole scene struck 
 
406 Napoleon. 
 
 me as significant, eloquent, almost a revelation, 
 and an appeal by dead Napoleon to that recogni- 
 tion from history which history has been so ready 
 to give him. 
 
 i. 
 
 WATERLOO. 
 
 NEXT to this scene, the most impressive picture I 
 have ever been enabled to form in my mind of Na- 
 poleon's personality, was from a story of Kielland, 
 the great Norwegian writer. In his " Tales of Two 
 Countries,"* there is a description of Napoleon 
 at the battle of Waterloo. I omit nearly all the 
 setting, for it is irrelevant to my purpose. Suffice 
 it to say that a young man named Cousin Hans 
 desires to become acquainted with a pretty young 
 woman, and that the only way he can contrive to 
 do so is to make himself the victim of the man he 
 supposes to be her father, a retired captain, who has 
 bored more than one generation by his accounts 
 of the battle of Waterloo. Cousin Hans places 
 himself in the way of the captain, and to attract 
 the old soldier's interest, makes believe that he is 
 studying military manoeuvres by drawing strokes 
 and angles in the sands. This is what follows : 
 
 " The whole esplanade was quiet and deserted. 
 Cousin Hans could hear the captain's firm steps 
 approaching; they came right up to him and 
 stopped. Hans did not look up ; the captain 
 
 * " Tales of Two Countries." From the Norwegian of 
 Alexander L. Kielland. Translated by William Archer. 
 (London : Osgood, Mcllvaine.) 
 
A Final Picture. 407 
 
 advanced two more paces and coughed. Hans 
 drew a long and profoundly significant stroke 
 with his stick, and then the old fellow could 
 contain himself no longer. ' Aha, young gentle- 
 man/ he said, in a friendly tone, taking off his 
 hat, ' are you making a plan of our fortifications ? * 
 Cousin Hans assumed the look of one who is 
 awakened from deep contemplation, and bowing 
 politely, he answered with some embarrassment : 
 ' No, it's only a sort of habit I have of trying to 
 take my bearings wherever I may be.' ' An ex- 
 cellent habit, a most excellent habit,' the cap- 
 tain exclaimed with warmth. ' It strengthens 
 the memory/ Cousin Hans remarked modestly. 
 ( Certainly, certainly, sir/ answered the captain, 
 who was beginning to be much pleased by this 
 modest young man. ' Especially in situations of 
 any complexity/ continued the modest young 
 man, rubbing out his strokes with his foot. ' Just 
 what I was going to say ! ' exclaimed the captain, 
 delighted. e And, as you may well believe, draw- 
 ings and plans are especially indispensable in 
 military science. Look at a battle-field, for ex- 
 ample.' ' Ah, battles are altogether too intricate 
 for me/ Cousin Hans interrupted, with a smile of 
 humility. ' Don't say that, sir ! ' answered the 
 kindly old man. ' When once you have a bird's- 
 eye view of the ground and of the positions of the 
 armies, even a tolerably complicated battle can 
 be made quite comprehensible. This sand, now, 
 that we have before us here, could very well be 
 
408 Napoleon. 
 
 made to give us an idea in miniature of, for 
 example, the battle of Waterloo. ... Be so good 
 as to take a seat on the bench here,' continued the 
 captain, whose heart was rejoiced at the thought 
 of so intelligent a hearer, ' and I shall try to give 
 you in short outline a picture of that momentous 
 and remarkable if it interests you ? ' ' Many 
 thanks, sir/ answered Cousin Hans ; ' nothing 
 could interest me more.' " 
 
 THE BATTLE. 
 
 WATERLOO is an old story ; but I must give it, as 
 our poor good-natured captain did, in order to bring 
 out the great passage to which I have alluded : 
 
 "The captain took up a position in a corner 
 of the ramparts, a few paces from the bench, 
 whence he could point all around him with a stick. 
 Cousin Hans followed what he said closely, and 
 took all possible trouble to ingratiate himself 
 with his future father-in-law. ' We will suppose, 
 then, that I am standing here, at the farm of 
 Belle-Alliance, where the Emperor has his head- 
 quarters ; and to the north fourteen miles from 
 Waterloo we have Brussels, that is to say, just 
 about at the corner of the gymnastic school. The 
 road there along the rampart is the highway 
 leading to Brussels, and here ' (the captain rushed 
 over the plain of Waterloo), ' here in the grass we 
 have the Forest of Soignies. On the highway to 
 Brussels, and in front of the forest, the English 
 
A Final Picture. 409 
 
 are stationed you must imagine the northern 
 part of the battle-field somewhat higher than it is 
 here. On Wellington's left wing, that is to say,, 
 to the eastward here in the grass we have the 
 Chateau of Hougoumont ; that must be marked/ 
 said the captain, looking about him. The service- 
 able Cousin Hans at once found a stick, which 
 was fixed in the ground at this important point. 
 ' Excellent ! ' cried the captain, who saw that he 
 had found an interested and imaginative listener. 
 ' You see it's from this side that we have to expect 
 the Prussians/ Cousin Hans noticed that the 
 captain picked up a stone and placed it in the 
 grass with an air of mystery. ( Here, at Hougou- 
 mont,' the old man continued, ' the battle began. 
 It was Jerome who made the first attack. He 
 took the wood ; but the chateau held out, 
 garrisoned by Wellington's best troops. In the 
 meantime Napoleon, here at Belle-Alliance, was 
 on the point of giving Marshal Ney orders to 
 commence the main attack upon Wellington's 
 centre, when he observed a column of troops 
 approaching from the east, behind the bench, over 
 there by the tree.' Cousin Hans looked round,, 
 and began to feel uneasy : could Blucher be here 
 already ? ' Blu Blu ' he murmured ten- 
 tatively. ' It was Bulow,' the captain fortunately 
 went on, 'who approached with thirty thousand 
 Prussians. Napoleon made his arrangements 
 hastily to meet this new enemy, never doubting 
 that Grouchy, at any rate, was following close oa 
 
4io Napoleon. 
 
 the Prussians' heels. You see, the Emperor had 
 on the previous day detached Marshal Grouchy 
 with the whole right wing of the army, about fifty 
 thousand men, to hold Blucher and Bulow in 
 check. But Grouchy but of course all this is 
 familiar to you/ the captain broke off. Cousin 
 Hans nodded reassuringly. 'Ney accordingly 
 began the attack with his usual intrepidity. But 
 the English cavalry hurled themselves upon the 
 Frenchmen, broke their ranks, and forced them 
 back with the loss of two eagles and several 
 cannons. Milhaud rushes to the rescue with his 
 cuirassiers, and the Emperor himself, seeing the 
 danger, puts spurs into his horse and gallops down 
 the incline of Belle- Alliance.' Away rushed the 
 captain, prancing like a horse in his eagerness to 
 show how the Emperor rode through thick and 
 thin, rallied Ney's troops, and sent them forward 
 to a fresh attack." 
 
 in. 
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 
 AND now comes the great passage of the sketch : 
 
 " Whether it was that there lurked a bit of the 
 poet in Cousin Hans, or that the captain's repre- 
 sentation was really very vivid, or that and this 
 is probably the true explanation he was in love 
 with the captain's daughter, certain it is that 
 Cousin Hans was quite carried away by the situa- 
 tion. He no longer saw a queer old captain 
 prancing sideways; he saw, through the cloud of 
 smoke, the Emperor himself, on his white horse 
 
A Final Picture. 411 
 
 with the black eyes, as we knew it from the en- 
 gravings. He tore away over hedge and ditch, 
 over meadow and garden, his staff with difficulty 
 keeping up with him. Cool and calm, he sat 
 firmly in his saddle, with his half-buttoned great- 
 coat, his white breeches, and his little hat cross- 
 wise on his head. His face expressed neither 
 weariness nor anxiety; smooth and pale as 
 marble, it gave to the whole figure in the simple 
 uniform on the white horse, an exalted, almost 
 a spectral aspect. Thus he swept on his course, 
 this sanguinary little monster, who in three days 
 had fought three battles. All hastened to clear 
 the way for him, flying peasants, troops in reserve 
 or advancing ay, even the wounded and dying 
 dragged themselves aside, and looked up at him 
 with a mixture of terror and admiration as he tore 
 past them like a cold thunderbolt. Scarcely had 
 he shown himself among the soldiers before they 
 all fell into order as though by magic, and a 
 moment afterwards the undaunted Ney could once 
 more vault into the saddle to renew the attack. 
 And this time he bore down the English, and 
 established himself in the farmhouse of La Haye- 
 Sainte. Napoleon is once more at Belle- Alliance. 
 'And now here comes Bulow from the east under 
 the bench here, you see and the Emperor sends 
 General Mouton to meet him. At half-past four 
 the battle had begun at one o'clock Wellington 
 attempts to drive Ney out of La Haye-Sainte. 
 And Ney, who now saw that everything de- 
 
412 Napoleon. 
 
 pended on obtaining possession of the ground in 
 front of the wood the sand here by the border of 
 the grass/ the captain threw his glove over to the 
 spot indicated ' Ney, you see, calls up the 
 reserve brigade of Milhaud's cuirassiers, and 
 hurls himself at the enemy. Presently his men 
 were seen upon the heights, and already the 
 people around the Emperor were shouting 
 ' Victoire ! ; ' It is an hour too late/ answered 
 Napoleon. As he now saw that the Marshal in 
 his new position was suffering much from the 
 enemy's fire, he determined to go to his assis- 
 tance, and, at the same time, to try to crush 
 Wellington at one blow. He chose, for the 
 execution of this plan, Kellermann's famous 
 dragoons and the heavy cavalry of the guard. 
 Now comes one of the crucial moments of the 
 fight. You must come out here upon the battle- 
 field ! ' Cousin Hans at once arose from the 
 bench, and took the position the captain pointed 
 out to him. ' Now you are Wellington ! ' Cousin 
 Hans drew himself up. ' You are standing there 
 on the plain with the greater part of the English 
 infantry. Here comes the whole of the French 
 cavalry rushing down upon you. Milhaud has 
 joined Kellermann ; they form an illimitable 
 multitude of horses, breastplates, plumes, and 
 shining weapons. Surround yourself with a 
 square ! ' Cousin Hans stood for a moment 
 bewildered; but presently he understood the 
 captain's meaning. He hastily drew a square 
 
A Final Picture. 413 
 
 of deep strokes around him on the sand. ' Right ! ' 
 cried the captain, beaming. 'Now the French- 
 men cut into the square; the ranks break, but 
 join again ; the cavalry wheels away and gathers 
 for a fresh attack. Wellington has every moment 
 to surround himself with a new square. The 
 French cavalry fight like lions ; the proud 
 memories of the Emperor's campaigns fill them 
 with that confidence of victory which made his 
 armies invincible. They fight for victory, for 
 glory, for the French eagles, and for the little 
 cold man who, they know, stands on the height 
 behind them, whose eye follows every single 
 man, who sees all and forgets nothing ; but to- 
 day they have an enemy who is not easy to 
 deal with. They stand where they stand, these 
 Englishmen, and if they are forced to step back- 
 wards, they regain their position the next moment. 
 They have no eagles and no Emperor, and when 
 they fight they think neither of military glory 
 nor of revenge; but they think of home. The 
 thought of never seeing again the oak-trees of 
 Old England is the most melancholy an English- 
 man knows. Ah, no, there is one which is still 
 worse that of coming home dishonoured. And 
 when they think that the proud fleet, which they 
 know is lying to the northward waiting for them, 
 would deny them the honour of a salute, and 
 that Old England would not recognise her sons, 
 then they grip their muskets tighter, they forget 
 their wounds and their flowing blood ; silent 
 
414 Napoleon. 
 
 and grim, they clench their teeth, and hold their 
 post and die like men.' Twenty times were the 
 squares broken and reformed, and twelve thousand 
 brave Englishmen fell. Cousin Hans could under- 
 stand how Wellington wept when he said, ' Night 
 or Blucher ! ' " 
 
 IV. 
 NAPOLEON IN RETREAT. 
 
 AND quite as vivid is the remainder of the picture 
 the picture of Napoleon in retreat : 
 
 " The captain had in the meantime left Belle- 
 Alliance, and was spying around in the grass 
 behind the bench, while he continued his ex- 
 position, which grew more and more vivid : 
 'Wellington was now in reality beaten, and a 
 total defeat was inevitable,' cried the captain 
 in a sombre voice, 'when this fellow appeared 
 on the scene ! ' And as he said this, he kicked 
 the stone which Cousin Hans had seen him 
 concealing, so that it rolled in upon the field 
 of battle. ' Now or never,' thought Cousin 
 Hans. ' Blucher ! ' he cried. ' Exactly ! ' answered 
 the captain, 'it's the old werewolf Blucher, who 
 comes marching upon the field with his Prussians.' 
 So Grouchy never came ; there was Napoleon, 
 deprived of his whole right wing, and facing 150,000 
 men. But with never-failing coolness he gives 
 his orders for a great change of front. But it 
 was too late, and the odds were too vast. 
 Wellington, who by Blucher's arrival was en- 
 abled to bring his reserve into play, now ordered 
 
A Final Picture. 415 
 
 his whole army to advance. And yet once 
 more the Allies were forced to pause for a 
 moment by a furious charge led by Ney the 
 lion of the day. ( Do you see him there ? ' 
 cried the captain, his eyes flashing. And Cousin 
 Hans saw him, the romantic hero, Duke of El- 
 chingen, Prince of the Moskowa, son of a cooper 
 in Saarlouis, Marshal and Peer of France. He 
 saw him rush onward at the head of his battalions 
 five horses had been shot under him with his 
 sword in his hand, his uniform torn to shreds, 
 hatless, and with the blood streaming down his 
 face. And the battalions rallied and swept ahead ; 
 they followed their Prince of the Moskowa, 
 their Saviour at the Beresina, into the hopeless 
 struggle for the Emperor and for France. Little 
 did they dream that, six months later, the King 
 of France would have their dear Prince shot as 
 a traitor to his country in the gardens of the 
 Luxembourg. There he rushed around, rallying 
 and directing his troops, until there was nothing 
 more for the general to do ; then he plied his 
 sword like a common soldier until all was over, 
 and he was carried away in the rout. For 
 the French army fled. The Emperor threw 
 himself into the throng ; but the terrible hubbub 
 drowned his voice, and in the twilight no one 
 knew the little man on the white horse. Then 
 he took his stand in a little square of his Old 
 Guard, which still held out upon the plain ; he 
 would fain have ended his life on his last 
 
Napoleon. 
 
 battle-field. But his generals flocked around 
 him, and the old grenadiers shouted, * Withdraw, 
 sire ! Death will not have you.' They did 
 not know that it was because the Emperor had 
 forfeited his right to die as a French soldier. 
 They led him half-resisting from the field ; and, 
 unknown in his own army, he rode away into 
 the darkness of the night, having lost everything. 
 *So ended the battle of Waterloo,' said the 
 captain, as he seated himself on the bench and 
 arranged his neckcloth." 
 
 I shall be in despair, and forfeit all my poor 
 claims to being a judge of literature, if my readers 
 do not read this splendid narrative with the same 
 breathless interest as I did; and if that awful 
 figure of " the little man on the white horse " does 
 not haunt their imaginations, as it did mine, for 
 many an hour after they have read it. I 
 thought the description of Waterloo in Stendhal's 
 " Chartreuse de Parme '" was the last and greatest 
 word that literature had to speak on that historic 
 day ; but really Kielland is finer, to my mind, than 
 even Stendhal. At all events, I have never read 
 anything which brought home to my imagination 
 with the same vividness the terrible central figure of 
 that day ; and all the godlike genius and demoniac 
 power, all the horror and glory and despair which 
 -were embodied in his person in the battle-field. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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