ISABEL 
 
 H. 
 
 LLIS
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
 BEQUEST OF
 
 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE.
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 
 
 (i 
 
 Witb d&aps an& Numerous Illustrations 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 "itt verite, rien qite la veritf." 
 "Maqna est veritas et prevalent" 
 
 NEW EDITION 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
 
 > 83 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight 
 hundred and fifty-five, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 Copyright, 1883, by SUSAN ABBOT MEAD.
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 VOLUME II.
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 CONCLUDED 
 
 England, Austria, and Russia, together with many other of the minor 
 powers of monarchical Europe, were now combined against France. The 
 Emperor Paul of Russia had furnished a large army to co-operate with the 
 Allies in their assault upon the Republic. Ten thousand of the Russians 
 had been taken prisoners. But in the recent disasters which had overwhelm- 
 ed the arms of France, many thousand French prisoners were in the hands 
 of the Allies. Napoleon proposed an exchange. The Austrian government 
 refused, because it selfishly wished to exchange for Austrians only. The 
 English government also refused, assigning the reason that it was contrary 
 to their principles to exchange for prisoners taken from other nations. 
 
 "What !" exclaim'ed Napoleon to the court of St. James, "do you refuse 
 to liberate the Russians, who were your allies who were fighting in your 
 ranks, and under your own commander, the Duke of York ?" With Vienna 
 he also expostulated, in tones of generous warmth, "Do you refuse to restore 
 to their country those men to whom you are indebted for your victories and 
 conquests in Italy, and who have left in your hands a multitude of French 
 prisoners whom they have taken ? Such injustice excites my indignation." 
 Then, yielding to those impulses so characteristic of his generous nature, he 
 exclaimed, " I will restore them to the Czar without exchange. He shall 
 see how I esteem brave men." 
 
 Whatever Napoleon undertook, he performed magnificently. The Russian 
 officers immediately received their swords. The captive troops, ten thou- 
 sand in number, were assembled at Aix-la-Chapelle. They were all fur- 
 nished with a -complete suit of new clothing, in the uniform of their own 
 regiments, and thoroughly armed with weapons of the very best of French 
 manufacture. The officers were authorized to organize them into battalions 
 and regiments. And thus triumphantly these battalions of armed men were 
 returned into the bosom of the ranks of the multitudinous hosts rushing down 
 upon France. It is gratifying to record that magnanimity so extraordinary 
 passed not away unappreciated. 
 
 The Emperor Paul was so disgusted with the selfishness of Austria and 
 England, and was so struck with admiration in view of this unparalleled gen-
 
 306 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 erosity of Napoleon, that he immediately abandoned the alliance. He at- 
 tached himself to Napoleon with that enthusiasm of constitutional ardor 
 which characterized the eccentric monarch. In a letter to the First Consul, 
 written with his own hand, he said, 
 
 " Citizen First Consul, I do not write to you to discuss the rights of men 
 or citizens. Every country governs itself as it pleases. Wherever I see at 
 the head of a nation a man who knows how to rule and how to fight, my 
 heart is attracted toward him. I write to acquaint you with my dissatisfac- 
 tion with England, who violates every article of the law of nations, and has 
 no guide but her egotism and her interest. I wish to unite with you, to put 
 an end to the unjust proceedings of that government." 
 
 Russia was thus detached from the alliance, and, sending a minister to 
 Paris, recognized the new government. Napoleon now sent an embassador 
 to Prussia to establish, if possible, friendly relations with that power. Duroc 
 was selected for this mission, in consequence of his graceful address, his pol- 
 ished education, and his varied accomplishments. Frederick William was 
 a great admirer of military genius. Duroc, who had been in the campaigns 
 of Italy and of Egypt, could interest him with the recital of many heroic en- 
 terprises. The first interview of Duroc with the Prussian monarch was en- 
 tirely private, and lasted two hours. The next day Duroc was invited to 
 dine with the king, and the Prussian court immediately recognized the con- 
 sular government. 
 
 Notwithstanding Napoleon's vast exaltation, he preserved personally the 
 same simple tastes and habits, the same untiring devotion to the details of 
 business, and the same friendships, as when he was merely a general of the 
 Republic. He rose at seven o'clock, dressed with scrupulous neatness, dur- 
 ing which time the morning journals were read to him. He then entered 
 his cabinet, where he read letters, and wrote or dictated answers until ten. 
 He then breakfasted with Josephine and Hortense, usually some of his aids 
 and one or two literary or scientific friends being invited. At the close of 
 this frugal meal he attended the meetings of the Council, or paid visits of 
 ceremony or business to some of the public offices. At five o'clock he re 
 turned to dinner, on ordinary occasions not allowing himself more than fif- 
 teen minutes at the table. He then retired to the apartments of Josephine, 
 where he received the visits of ministers and of the most distinguished per- 
 sons of the metropolis. 
 
 In the organization of his court, Napoleon was unalterably determined to 
 suppress that licentiousness of manners which for ages had disgraced the 
 palaces of the French monarchs, and which, since the overthrow of Chris- 
 tianity, had swept like a flood of pollution over all France. He was very 
 severe upon those females, often of the highest rank, who endeavored to at- 
 tract attention by freedom of dress or behavior. It was expected that men 
 and their wives should appear in society together a thing hitherto unprece- 
 dented, and contrary to all ideas of fashionable life. The court had hitherto 
 taken the lead in profligacy, and the nation had followed. Napoleon thought 
 that by enforcing purity of morals in the palace, he could draw back the na- 
 tion to more decorum of manners. " Immorality," said he, " is, beyond a 
 doubt, the worst of all faults in a sovereign, because he introduces it as a
 
 1800.J COURT OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 307 
 
 fashion among his subjects, by whom it is practiced for the sake of pleasing 
 him. It strengthens every vice, blights every virtue, and infects all society 
 like a pestilence. In short, it is a nation's scourge." 
 
 On one occasion a courtier, very high in rank and office, one of the im- 
 perial chamberlains, requested permission to present his daughter-in-law at 
 court. She was extremely beautiful, and, though distinguished by a capti- 
 vating air of simplicity, was one of the most artful of the daughters of Eve. 
 She joined the imperial parties on all occasions, and, wherever she went, 
 threw herself in the way of Napoleon. Her soft and languishing eyes were 
 riveted upon him. She sighed, blushed, and affected bashfulness, while, at 
 the same time, she constantly placed herself in situations to attract his no- 
 tice. Sometimes she would stand for a long time, apparently lost in rev- 
 erie, gazing and sighing before the portraits of Napoleon. Her father-in-law 
 affected displeasure at her conduct, and complained of the unfortunate but 
 resistless passion which she had imbibed. Her husband, who was infamous- 
 ly in the intrigue, regarded the matter with the most philosophic indiffer- 
 ence. The mother-in-law also made herself busy to help the matter along, 
 saying that, after all, it was hard to blame her for loving Napoleon. For 
 some time Napoleon paid no attention to the intrigue, and appeared not to 
 notice it. At length the affair became a subject of court gossip, and it was 
 necessary that it should be noticed. 
 
 One evening, at the close of a sitting of the Council of State, at which 
 Napoleon had presided, conducting Cambaceres into the recess of one of the 
 
 windows, he said, " Madame B is rendering herself quite intolerable to 
 
 me. The conduct of her relations is still more odious. The father-in-law 
 is an infamous man, her husband a mean-spirited wretch, and her mother a 
 vile, intriguing woman, by whose arts, however, I am not to be duped. The 
 abandoned female who unreservedly puts up her virtue to sale is preferable 
 to the hypocrite who, for motives equally mercenary, affects a sentimental 
 attachment. I wish you to call on my chamberlain, and inform him that I 
 dispense with his services for the space of a year. Inform his wife that I 
 forbid her appearance at court for six years. And make known to the affec- 
 tionate married couple, that, to afford them an opportunity of duly appreci- 
 ating each other's qualities, I give them leave to spend six months in Naples, 
 six months in Vienna, and six months in any other part of Germany." 
 
 On another occasion a lieutenant colonel sent a petition to Napoleon so- 
 liciting promotion. In accordance with the corruptions of those paganized 
 times, he added, " I have two beautiful daughters, who will be too happy to 
 throw themselves at the feet of the good Emperor, and thank him for the 
 benefit conferred on their father." 
 
 Napoleon was indignant at this atrocious proposal. He said, " I know 
 not what withholds me from having this infamous letter inserted in the order 
 of the day of the writer's regiment." Napoleon made inquiries respecting 
 this officer, and found that he had been one of the assassins during the Reign 
 of Terror, and an intimate friend of Robespierre. He immediately dismissed 
 him from service. He found that the daughters were amiable and interest- 
 ing young ladies, totally unconscious of the infamous project entertained by 
 their father. That they might not suffer the penalty of their father's base*
 
 308 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XVIII 
 
 ness, he settled a small pension on each of them, on condition of their leav 
 ing Paris, and retiring to their native city. 
 
 Napoleon effectually enthroned himself in the hearts of the common peo' 
 pie of France. They believed him to be their friend and advocate. They 
 still cherish the same belief. At this hour there is no ruler, enthroned of 
 entombed, who is regarded with the enthusiastic veneration with which the 
 people of France now cherish the memory of their emperor. Napoleon 
 stands alone in that glory. He has no rival. 
 
 Robert Southey makes the following admissions respecting this great con- 
 flict between Napoleon, as the advocate of popular rights, and the despotic 
 governments of Europe. 
 
 " The state of Naples may be described in a few words. The king was 
 one of the Spanish Bourbons. As the Caesars have shown us to what wick- 
 edness the moral nature of princes may be perverted, so, in this family, the 
 degradation to which their intellect and nature can be reduced has been not 
 less conspicuously evinced. Ferdinand, like the rest of his race, was pas- 
 sionately fond of field-sports, and cared for nothing else. His queen had all 
 the vices of the house of Austria, with little to mitigate and nothing to en- 
 noble them ; provided she could have her pleasures, and the king his sports, 
 they cared not in what manner the revenue was raised or administered. Of 
 course, a system of favoritism existed at court, and the vilest and most im- 
 pudent corruption prevailed in every department of state, and in every branch 
 of administration from the highest to the lowest. A sense of better things 
 was kept alive in some of the Neapolitans by literature, and by their inter- 
 course with happier countries. These persons naturally looked to France 
 at the commencement of the Revolution, and, during all the horrors of that 
 Revolution, still cherished the hope that, by the aid of France, they might be 
 enabled to establish a new order of things in Naples. They were not mis- 
 taken in believing that no government could be worse than their own. All 
 these" (those seeking a change of government) "were confounded under 
 the common name of Jacobins ; and the Jacobins of the Continental king- 
 doms were regarded by the English with more hatred than they deserved. 
 No circumstances could be more unfavorable to the best interests of Europe 
 than those which placed England in strict alliance with the superannuated 
 and abominable governments of the Continent. The subjects of those gov- 
 ernments who wished for freedom thus became enemies to England." 
 
 Such are the concessions to which Mr. Southey is forced, while all his 
 sympathies were with the English aristocracy. The sympathies of Napoleon 
 were nobly and magnanimously with the oppressed people. He wished to 
 promote reform, but he had seen enough of blind and maddened revolution. 
 He wished to see the people restored to their rights, and also protected froni 
 the desolations of infuriate mobs. In this view every step of his career is 
 consistent. He resisted with equal firmness the arrogance of aristocratic 
 usurpation and the encroachments of anarchy. Thus, in strange alliance, 
 the kings and the mob joined hands against him, and he became the idol of 
 the millions. 
 
 In Naples, while Napoleon was in Egypt, the Republican party made an 
 effort to throw off the intolerable tyranny with which the kingdom was op-
 
 1800.] COURT OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 309 
 
 pressed. They were, for a time, quite successful, and the prospect of achiev- 
 ing the emancipation of Naples was brilliant. But a combined force of En- 
 glish, Russians, and Neapolitans fell with such resistless power upon the 
 Republicans that the movement was crushed. Parties of these patriotic men 
 took refuge in two strong castles. They were besieged by the Allies. 
 Knowing the perfidy of the Neapolitans and the Russians, and believing that 
 the English would have some little sympathy for those who were struggling 
 for freedom, they demanded that a British officer should be brought forward, 
 and to him they capitulated. Under the solemn sanction of the British name 
 that their persons and property should be safe, and that they and their fami- 
 lies should be conveyed unmolested to France, where warm hearts would 
 welcome them, they threw down their arms and opened the gates of the for- 
 tresses. This capitulation was signed by the three allied powers. Cardinal 
 Ruffb signed as Viceroy of Naples, Kerandy on the part of the Emperor of 
 Russia, and Captain Foote as representative of the King of England. 
 
 But, just at this time, Lord Nelson, with his triumphant fleet, entered the 
 bay. He had on board his ship his guilty paramour, Lady Hamilton, and 
 the infamous King and Queen of Naples. Nelson immediately made signal 
 to annul the treaty, declaring that he would grant rebels no other terms than 
 unconditional submission. The Neapolitan cardinal protested earnestly 
 against such an atrocious violation of faith. But to these remonstrances the 
 British admiral would not listen. He seized the hated Republicans, and 
 chained them, two and two, on board his own fleet. The King of Naples 
 had not sufficient nerve to witness the horrible scenes which were to ensue. 
 He hurried from the ship to his palace, and left Lord Nelson, the queen, and 
 Lady Hamilton to do their pleasure. " Numbers," says Alison, " were im- 
 mediately condemned and executed. The vengeance of the populace sup- 
 plied what was wanting in the celerity of the criminal tribunals. Neither 
 age, nor sex, nor rank were spared. Women as well as men, youths of six- 
 teen and gray-headed men of seventy were alike led out to the scaffold, and 
 infants of twelve years of age sent into exile. The Republicans behaved in 
 almost every instance, in their last moments, with heroic courage, and made 
 men forget, in pity for their misfortunes, the ingratitude or treason of which 
 they had previously been guilty." 
 
 Sir Archibald can allow himself to call those noble men who were spurn- 
 ing the infamous tyranny of Ferdinand of Naples ungrateful traitors. Had 
 Washington, and Adams, and Hancock failed and died upon the gibbet, they 
 also would have been stigmatized as ungrateful traitors, and men, boasting 
 their love of liberty, would heap obloquy upon those who should dare to vin- 
 dicate their cause. 
 
 Admiral Carraccioli, a man of the purest and noblest character, was one 
 of the leaders of this Republican band. He had already passed the limits 
 of threescore years and ten. He was arrested at nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, put on his trial on board the British flag-ship at ten, found guilty and 
 sentenced to death at twelve, and hanged at the fore-yard-arm of the frigate 
 at five o'clock in the afternoon ; after which his body was cut down and cast 
 into the sea. The admiral entreated Lord Nelson to grant him a new trial, 
 as he had not been allowed time to prepare his defense. Lord Nelson re-
 
 310 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XIX. 
 
 fused. He then earnestly implored that he might be shot, declaring that the 
 disgrace of being hanged was dreadful to him. This also was sternly denied. 
 As a last hope, he sent Lieutenant Parkinson, in whose custody he was, to 
 plead with Lady Hamilton. She refused to be seen. This abandoned wom- 
 an, however, came upon the deck to enjoy the dying convulsions of the 
 Republican admiral as he was dangling at the yard-arm. For these infa- 
 mous deeds Lord Nelson received from the court of Naples a diamond-hilted 
 sword, the dukedom of Bronte, a title which greatly flattered his vanity, and 
 an income of fifteen thousand dollars a year. 
 
 " For these acts of cruelty," says Alison, " no sort of apology can or ought 
 to be offered. In every point of view, the conduct of Nelson in this tragic 
 affair was inexcusable." Southey says, " To palliate it would be vain ; to 
 justify it would be wicked. There is no alternative for one who will not 
 make himself participator in guilt but to record the disgraceful story with 
 sorrow and with shame." 
 
 What would have been said of Napoleon could such a transaction as this 
 have been laid to his charge, that, abandoning his noble and broken-hearted 
 wife, and attaching himself to an infamous woman, and becoming the slave 
 to her fascinations, he violated the most solemn treaty, imprisoned and 
 strangled the victims of regal perfidy, and surrendered men, women, and 
 children to outrage and assassination from the hands of a ferocious mob ! 
 And yet the British government can rear monuments to the name of Nelson, 
 while it endeavors to consign the memory of Napoleon to infamy. Will the 
 verdict of the world ratify this injustice ? We may safely answer No .'* 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CROSSING THE ALPS. 
 
 Renewed Attacks by England and Austria Proclamation Generosity to Moreau Napoleon's 
 Plans for himself English Caricatures Pass of the Great St. Bernard Grand Preparations 
 Enthusiastic Toil of the Soldiers The young Peasant. 
 
 NAPOLEON, rinding his proffers of peace rejected by the government of En- 
 gland with contumely and scorn, and declined by Austria, now prepared, 
 with his wonted energy, to repel the assaults of the Allies. As he sat in his 
 cabinet at the Tuileries, the thunders of their unrelenting onset came roll- 
 ing in upon his ear from all the frontiers of France. The hostile fleets of En- 
 gland swept the Channel, utterly annihilating the commerce of the Republic, 
 landing regiments of armed emigrants upon her coasts, lavishing money and 
 munitions of war to rouse the partisans of the Bourbons to civil conflict, and 
 throwing balls and shells into every unprotected town. On the northern 
 frontier, Marshal Kray came thundering down through the Black Forest to 
 the banks of the Rhine with a mighty host of 150,000 men, to pour into all 
 the northern provinces of France. Artillery of the heaviest calibre and a 
 
 * " It deserves," says Alison, " to be recorded, to the honor of Napoleon, that he endeavored to 
 palliate Nelson's share in these dark transactions, ascribing it to misinformation and the fascinat- 
 ing ascendency of Lady Hamilton."
 
 1800.] CROSSING THE ALPS. 311 
 
 magnificent array of cavalry accompanied this apparently invincible army. 
 In Italy, Melas, another Austrian marshal, with 140,000 men, aided by the 
 whole force of the British navy, was rushing upon the eastern and southern 
 borders of the Republic. The French troops, disheartened by defeat, had 
 fled before their foes over the Alps, or were eating their horses and their 
 boots in the cities where they were besieged. From almost every promon- 
 tory on the coast of the Republic, washed by the Channel or the Mediterra- 
 nean, the eye could discern English frigates, black and threatening, holding 
 all France in a state of blockade. 
 
 One always finds a certain pleasure in doing that which he can do well. 
 Napoleon was fully conscious of his military genius. He had, in behalf of 
 bleeding humanity, implored peace in vain. He now, with alacrity and with 
 joy, roused himself to inflict blows that should be felt upon his multitudinous 
 enemies. With such tremendous energy did he do this, that he received from 
 his antagonists the complimentary sobriquet of the one hundred thousand men. 
 Wherever Napoleon made his appearance in the field, his presence alone 
 was considered equivalent to that force. 
 
 The following proclamation rang like a trumpet charge over the hills and 
 valleys of France. " Frenchmen ! You have been anxious for peace. Your 
 government has desired it with still greater ardor. Its first efforts, its most 
 constant wishes, have been for its attainment. The English ministry has 
 exposed the secret of its iniquitous policy. It wishes to dismember France, 
 to destroy its commerce, and either to erase it from the map of Europe, or 
 to degrade it to a secondary power. England is willing to embroil all the 
 nations of the Continent in hostility with each other, that she may enrich 
 herself with their spoils, and gain possession of the trade of the world. For 
 the attainment of this object, she scatters her gold, becomes prodigal of her 
 promises, and multiplies her intrigues." 
 
 At this call all the martial spirits of France rushed to arms. Napoleon, 
 supremely devoted to the welfare of the state, seemed to forget even his own 
 glory in the intensity of his desire to make France victorious over her foes. 
 With the most magnanimous superiority to all feelings of jealousy, he raised 
 an army of 150,000 men, the very elite of the troops of France, the veterans 
 of a hundred battles, and placed them in the hands of Moreau, the only man 
 in France who could be called his rival. Napoleon also presented to Moreau 
 the plan of a campaign in accordance with his own energy, boldness, and 
 genius. Its accomplishment would have added surpassing brilliance to the 
 reputation of Moreau. But the cautious general was afraid to adopt it, and 
 presented another, perhaps as safe, but one which would produce no dazzling 
 impression upon the imaginations of men. 
 
 " Your plan," said one, a friend of Moreau, to the First Consul, " is grand- 
 er, more decisive, and even more sure. But it is not adapted to the slow ancl 
 cautious genius of the man who is to execute it. You have your method of 
 making war, which is superior to all others. Moreau has his own, inferior 
 certainly, but still excellent. Leave him to himself. If you impose your 
 ideas upon him, you will wound his self-love and disconcert him." 
 
 Napoleon, profoundly versed in the knowledge of the human heart, prompt- 
 ly replied, " You are right ; Moreau is not capable of grasping the plan which
 
 312 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XIX. 
 
 I have conceived. Let him follow his own course. The plan which he does 
 not understand and dare not execute I myself will carry out on another part 
 of the theatre of war. What he fears to attempt on the Rhine, I will ac- 
 complish on the Alps. The day may come when he will regret the glory 
 which he yields to me." 
 
 These were proud and prophetic words. Moreau was moderately victo. 
 rious upon the Rhine, driving back the invaders. The sun of Napoleon soon 
 rose over the field of Marengo in a blaze of effulgence, which paled Moreau's 
 twinkling star into utter obscurity. But we know not where upon the page of 
 history to find an act of more lofty generosity than this surrender of the no- 
 blest army of the Republic to one who considered himself, and was deemed 
 by others, a rival, arid thus to throw open to him the theatre of war where 
 apparently the richest laurels were to be won ; and we know not where to 
 took for a deed more proudly expressive of self-confidence. " I will give 
 Moreau," said he by this act, "one hundred and fifty thousand of the most 
 brave and disciplined soldiers of France, the victors of a hundred battles. I 
 myself will take sixty thousand men, new recruits and the fragments of regi- 
 ments which remain, and with them I will march to encounter an equally 
 powerful enemy on a more difficult field of warfare." 
 
 Marshal Melas had spread his vast host of one hundred and forty thousand 
 Austrians through all the strongholds of Italy, and was pressing with tremen- 
 dous energy and self-confidence upon the frontiers of France. Napoleon, 
 instead of marching with his inexperienced troops to meet the heads of the 
 triumphant columns of Melas, resolved to climb the rugged and apparently 
 inaccessible fortresses of the Alps, and, descending from the clouds over path- 
 less precipices, to fall with the sweep of the avalanche upon their rear. It 
 was necessary to assemble this army at some favorable point, to gather in 
 vast magazines its munitions of war. It was necessary that this should be 
 done in secret, lest the Austrians, climbing to the summits of the Alps, and 
 defending the gorges through which the troops of Napoleon would be com- 
 pelled to wind their difficult and tortuous way, might render the passage im- 
 possible. English and Austrian spies were prompt to communicate to the 
 hostile powers every movement of the First Consul. 
 
 Napoleo i fixed upon Dijon and its vicinity as the rendezvous of his troops. 
 He, howeA er, adroitly and completely deceived his foes by ostentatiously an- 
 nouncing the very plan he intended to carry into operation. Of course, the 
 Allies thought that this was a foolish attempt to draw their attention from 
 the real point of attack. The more they ridiculed the imaginary army at 
 Dijon, the more loudly did Napoleon reiterate his commands for battalions 
 and magazines to be collected there. The spies who visited Dijon reported 
 that but a few regiments were assembled in that place, and that the an- 
 nouncement was clearly a very weak pretense to deceive. The print-shops 
 of London and Vienna were filled with caricatures of the army of Dijon. 
 The English especially made themselves very merry with Napoleon's grand 
 army to scale the Alps. It was believed that the energies of the Republic 
 were utterly exhausted in raising the force which was given to Moreau. One 
 of the caricatures represented the army as consisting of a boy dressed in his 
 father's clothes, shouldering a musket which he could with difficulty lift, and
 
 1800.] 
 
 CROSSING THE ALPS. 
 
 313
 
 314 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XIX 
 
 eating a piece of gingerbread, and an old man with one arm and a wooden 
 leg. The artillery consisted of a rusty blunderbuss. This derision was just 
 what Napoleon desired. Though dwelling in the shadow of that mysterious 
 melancholy which ever enveloped his spirit, he must have enjoyed in the 
 deep recesses of his soul the majestic movements of his plans. 
 
 On the eastern frontiers of France there surge up, from luxuriant meadows 
 and vine-clad fields and hill-sides, the majestic ranges of the Alps, piercing 
 the clouds, and soaring with glittering pinnacles into the region of perpetual 
 ice and snow. Vast spurs of the mountains extend on each side, opening 
 gloomy gorges and frightful defiles, through which foaming torrents rush 
 impetuously, walled in by almost precipitous cliffs, whose summits, crowned 
 with melancholy firs, are inaccessible to the foot of man. The principal 
 pass over this enormous ridge was that of the Great St. Bernard. The trav- 
 eler, accompanied by a guide, and mounted on a mule, slowly and painfully 
 ascended a steep and rugged path, now crossing a narrow bridge, spanning 
 a fathomless abyss, again creeping along the edge of a precipice, where the 
 eagle soared and screamed over the fir tops in the abyss below, and where a 
 perpendicular wall rose to giddy heights in the clouds above. The path, at 
 times, was so narrow, that it seemed that the mountain goat could with dif- 
 ficulty find a foothold for its slender hoof. A false step, or a slip upon the 
 icy rocks, would precipitate the traveler, a mangled corpse, a thousand feet 
 upon the fragments of granite in the gulf beneath. As higher and higher he 
 climbed these wild, and rugged, and cloud-enveloped paths, borne by the un- 
 erring instinct of the faithful mule, his steps were often arrested by the roar 
 of the avalanche, and he gazed appalled upon its resistless rush, as rocks, and 
 trees, and earth, and snow, and ice, swept by him with awful and resistless 
 desolation, far down into the dimly discerned torrents which rushed beneath 
 his feet. 
 
 At God's bidding the avalanche fell. No precaution could save the trav- 
 eler who was in its path. He was instantly borne to destruction, and buried 
 where no voice but the archangel's trump could ever reach his ear. Ter- 
 rific storms of wind and snow often swept through those bleak altitudes, 
 blinding and smothering the traveler. Hundreds of bodies, like pillars of 
 ice, embalmed in snow, are now sepulchred in those drifts, there to sleep till 
 the fires of the last conflagration shall have consumed their winding sheet. 
 Having toiled two days through such scenes of desolation and peril, the ad- 
 venturous traveler stands upon the summit of the pass, eight thousand feet 
 above the level of the sea, two thousand feet higher than the crest of Mount 
 Washington, our own mountain monarch. This summit, over which the 
 path winds, consists of a small level plain, surrounded by mountains of snow 
 of still higher elevation. 
 
 The scene here presented is inexpressibly gloomy and appalling. Nature 
 in these wild regions assumes her most severe and sombre aspect. As one 
 emerges from the precipitous and craggy ascent upon this Valley of Deso- 
 lation, as it is emphatically called, the Convent of St. Bernard presents itself 
 to the view. 
 
 This cheerless abode, the highest spot of inhabited ground in Europe, has 
 been tenanted, for more than a thousand years, by a succession of joyless
 
 1800.] CROSSING THE ALPS. 315 
 
 and self-denying monks, who, in that frigid retreat of granite and ice, en- 
 deavor to serve their Maker by rescuing bewildered travelers from the de- 
 struction with which they are ever threatened to be overwhelmed by the 
 storms which battle against them. In the middle of this ice-bound valley 
 lies a lake, clear, dark, and cold, whose depths, even in midsummer, reflect 
 the eternal glaciers which soar sublimely around. The descent to the plains 
 of Italy is even more precipitous and dangerous than the ascent from the 
 green pastures of France. No vegetation adorns these dismal and storm- 
 swept cliffs of granite and of ice. The pinion of the eagle fails in its rare- 
 fied air, and the chamois ventures not to climb its steep and slippery crags. 
 No human beings are ever to be seen on these bleak summits, except the 
 few shivering travelers who tarry for an hour to receive the hospitality of 
 the convent, and the hooded monks, wrapped in thick and coarse garments, 
 with their staves and their dogs, groping through the storms of sleet and 
 snow. Even the wood, which burns with frugal faintness on their hearths, 
 is borne, in painful burdens, up the mountain sides upon the shoulders of the 
 monks. 
 
 Such was the barrier which Napoleon intended to surmount, that he might 
 fall upon the rear of the Austrians, who were battering down the walls of 
 Genoa, where Massena was besieged, and who were thundering, flushed with 
 victory, at the very gates of Nice. Over this wild mountain pass, where the 
 mule could with difficulty tread, and where no wheel had ever rolled, or by 
 any possibility could roll, Napoleon contemplated transporting an army of 
 sixty thousand men, with ponderous artillery and tons of cannon balls, and 
 baggage, and all the bulky munitions of war. England and Austria laughed 
 the idea to scorn. The achievement of such an enterprise was apparently 
 impossible. 
 
 Napoleon, however, was as skillful in the arrangement of the minutest de- 
 tails as in the conception of the grandest combinations. Though he resolved 
 to take the mass of his army, forty thousand strong, across the pass of the 
 Great St. Bernard, yet, to distract the attention of the Austrians, he arranged 
 also to send small divisions across the passes of Saint Gothard, Little St. 
 Bernard, and Mount Cenis. He would thus accumulate suddenly, and to 
 the amazement of the enemy, a body of sixty-five thousand men upon the 
 plains of Italy. This force, descending like an apparition from the clouds, 
 in the rear of the Austrian army, headed by Napoleon, and cutting off all 
 communication with Austria, might indeed strike a panic into the hearts of 
 the assailants of France. 
 
 The troops were collected in various places in the vicinity of Dijon, ready 
 at a moment's warning to assemble at the place of rendezvous, and with a 
 rush to enter the defile. Immense magazines of wheat, biscuit, and oats had 
 been noiselessly collected in different places. Large sums of specie had 
 been forwarded, to hire the services of every peasant, with his mule, who in 
 habited the valleys among the mountains. Mechanic shops, as by magic, 
 suddenly rose along the path, well supplied with skillful artisans, to repair 
 all damages, to dismount the artillery, to divide the gun-carriages and the 
 baggage-wagons into fragments, that they might be transported, on the backs 
 of men and mules, over the steep and rugged way. For the ammunition a
 
 316 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XIX 
 
 vast number of small boxes were prepared, which could easily be packed 
 upon the mules. A second company of mechanics, with camp forges, had 
 been provided, to cross the mountain with the first division, and rear their 
 shops upon the plain on the other side, to mend the broken harness, to recon- 
 struct the carriages, and remount the pieces. 
 
 On each side of the mountain a hospital was established, and supplied with 
 every comfort for the sick and the wounded. The foresight of Napoleon 
 extended even to sending, at the very last moment, to the convent upon the 
 summit, an immense quantity of bread, cheese, and wine. Each soldier, to 
 his surprise, was to find, as he arrived at the summit, exhausted with hercu- 
 lean toil, a generous slice of bread and cheese, with a refreshing cup of wine, 
 presented to him by the monks. All these minute details Napoleon ar- 
 ranged, while at the same time he was doing the work of a dozen energetic 
 men in reorganizing the whole structure of society in France. If toil pays 
 for greatness, Napoleon purchased the renown which he attained. And yet 
 his body and his mind were so constituted that his sleepless activity was to 
 him a pleasure. 
 
 The appointed hour at last arrived. On the 7th of May, 1800, Napoleon 
 entered his carriage at the Tuileries, saying, 
 
 " Good-by, my dear Josephine ! I must go to Italy. I shall not forget 
 you, and I will not be absent long." 
 
 At a word, the whole majestic array was in motion. Like a meteor he 
 swept over France. He arrived at the foot of the mountains. The troops 
 and all the paraphernalia of war were on the spot at the designated hour. 
 Napoleon immediately appointed a very careful inspection. Every foot-sol- 
 dier and every horseman passed before his scrutinizing eye. If a shoe was 
 ragged, or a jacket torn, or a musket injured, the defect was immediately re- 
 paired. His glowing words inspired the troops with the ardor which was 
 burning in his own bosom. The genius of the First Consul was infused into 
 the mighty host. Each man exerted himself to the utmost. The eye of 
 their chief was every where, and his cheering voice roused the army to al- 
 most superhuman exertions. Two skillful engineers had been sent to ex- 
 plore the path, and to do what could be done in the removal of obstructions. 
 They returned with an appalling recital of the apparently insurmountable 
 difficulties of the way. 
 
 " Is it possible," inquired Napoleon, " to cross the pass ?" 
 
 " Perhaps," was the hesitating reply, "it is within the limits of possibility." 
 
 " Forward, then," was the energetic response. 
 
 Each man was required to carry, besides his arms, food for several days 
 and a large quantity of cartridges. As the sinuosities of the precipitous path 
 could only be trod in single file, the heavy wheels were taken from the car- 
 riages, and each, slung upon a pole, was borne by two men. The task for 
 the foot-soldiers was far less than for the horsemen. The latter clambered 
 up on foot, dragging their horses after them. The descent was very danger- 
 ous. The dragoon, in the steep and narrow path, was compelled to walk 
 before his horse. At the least stumble he was exposed to being plunged 
 headlong into the abysses yawning before him. In this way many horses 
 and several riders perished. To transport the heavy cannon and howitzers,
 
 1800.] CROSSING THE ALPS. 317 
 
 pine logs were split in the centre, the parts hollowed out, and the guns sunk 
 into the grooves. A long string of mules, in single file, were attached to the 
 ponderous machines of war, to drag them up the slippery ascent. The mules 
 soon began to fail, and then the men, with hearty good-will, brought their 
 own shoulders into the harness a hundred men to a single gun. Napoleon 
 offered the peasants two hundred dollars for the transportation of a twelve- 
 pounder over the pass. The love of gain was not strong enough to lure 
 them to such tremendous exertions. But Napoleon's fascination over the 
 hearts of his soldiers was a more powerful impulse. With shouts of encour- 
 agement they toiled at the cables, successive bands of a hundred men re- 
 
 DRAWING A GUN OVER GREAT ST. BERNARD. 
 
 lieving each other every half hour. High on those craggy steeps, gleaming 
 through the mist, the glittering bands of armed men like phantoms appear- 
 VOL. II. B
 
 318 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XIX. 
 
 ed. The eagle wheeled and screamed beneath their feet. The mountain 
 goat, affrighted by the unwonted spectacle, bounded away, and paused in 
 bold relief upon the cliff, to gaze upon the martial array which so suddenly 
 had peopled the solitude. 
 
 When they approached any spot of very especial difficulty, the trumpets 
 sounded the charge, which re-echoed, with sublime reverberations, from pin- 
 nacle to pinnacle of rock and ice. Animated by these bugle notes, the sol- 
 diers strained every nerve as if rushing upon the foe. Napoleon offered to 
 these bands the same reward which he had promised to the peasants. But 
 to a man they refused the gold. They had imbibed the spirit of their chief, 
 his enthusiasm, and his proud superiority to all mercenary motives. " We 
 are not toiling for money," said they, " but for your approval, and to share 
 your glory." 
 
 Napoleon, with his wonderful tact, had introduced a slight change into 
 the artillery service, which was productive of immense moral results. The 
 gun carriages had heretofore been driven by mere wagoners, who, being con- 
 sidered not as soldiers, but as servants, and sharing not in the glory of vic- 
 tory, were uninfluenced by any sentiment of honor. At the first approach 
 of danger, they were ready to cut their traces and gallop from the field, 
 leaving their cannon in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 Napoleon said, " The cannoneer who brings his piece into action, performs 
 as valuable a service as the cannoneer who works it. He runs the same 
 danger, and requires the same moral stimulus, which is the sense of honor." 
 
 He therefore converted the artillery drivers into soldiers, and clothed them 
 in the uniform of their respective regiments. They constituted twelve thou- 
 sand horsemen, who were animated with as much pride in carrying their 
 pieces into action, and in bringing them off with rapidity and safety, as the 
 gunners felt in loading, directing, and discharging them. It was now the 
 great glory of these men to take care of their guns. They loved, tenderly, 
 the merciless monsters. They lavished caresses and terms of endearment 
 upon the glittering, polished, death-dealing brass. The heart of man is a 
 strange enigma. Even when most degraded, it needs something to love. 
 These bloodstained soldiers, brutalized by vice, amid all the horrors of bat- 
 tle, lovingly fondled the murderous machines of war, responding to the ap- 
 peal, " Call me pet names, dearest." The unrelenting gun was the stern 
 cannoneer's lady-love. He kissed it with unwashed, mustached lip. In rude 
 and rough devotion he was ready to die rather than abandon the only object 
 of his idolatrous homage. Consistently he baptized the life-devouring mon- 
 ster with blood. Affectionately he named it Mary, Emma, Lizzie. In cross- 
 ing the Alps, dark night came on as some cannoneers were floundering 
 through drifts of snow, toiling at their gun. They would not leave the gun 
 alone in the cold storm to seek for themselves a dry bivouac ; but, like 
 brothers guarding a sister, they threw themselves, for the night, upon the 
 bleak and frozen snow by its side. It was the genius of Napoleon which 
 thus penetrated these mysterious depths of the human soul, and called to his 
 aid those mighty energies. "It is nothing but imagination," said one once 
 to Napoleon. "Nothing but imagination .'" he rejoined. "Imagination rules 
 the world"
 
 1800.] CROSSING THE ALPS. 319 
 
 When they arrived at the summit, each soldier found, to his surprise and 
 joy, the abundant comforts which Napoleon's kind care had provided. One 
 would have anticipated there a scene of terrible confusion. To feed an army 
 of forty thousand hungry men is not a light undertaking. Yet every thing 
 was so carefully arranged, and the influence of Napoleon so boundless, that 
 not a soldier left the ranks. Each man received his slice of bread and cheese, 
 and quaffed his cup of wine, and passed on. It w r as a point of honor for no 
 one to stop. Whatever obstructions were in the way were to be at all haz- 
 ards surmounted, that the long file, extending nearly twenty miles, might not 
 be thrown into confusion. The descent was more perilous than the ascent. 
 But fortune seemed to smile. The sky was clear, the weather delightful, 
 and in four days the whole army was reassembled on the plains of Italy. 
 
 Napoleon had sent Berthier forward to receive the division and to super-
 
 320 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX. 
 
 intend all necessary repairs, while he himself remained to press forward the 
 mighty host. He was the last man to cross the mountains. Seated upon 
 a mule, with a young peasant for his guide, slowly and thoughtfully he as- 
 cended those silent solitudes. He was dressed in the gray coat which he 
 always wore. Art has pictured him as bounding up the cliff, proudly mount- 
 ed on a prancing charger ; but truth presents him in an attitude more sim- 
 ple and more sublime. Even the young peasant who acted as his guide was 
 entirely unconscious of the distinguished rank of the plain traveler whose 
 steps he was conducting. 
 
 Much of the way Napoleon was silent, abstracted in thought. And yet 
 he found time for human sympathy. He drew from his young and artless 
 guide the secrets of his heart. The young peasant was sincere and virtuous. 
 He loved a fair maid among the mountains. She loved him. It was his 
 heart's great desire to have her for his own. He was poor, and had neither 
 house nor land to support a family. Napoleon, struggling with all his ener- 
 gies against combined England and Austria, and with all the cares of an 
 army, on the march to meet one hundred and twenty thousand foes, crowd- 
 ing his mind, won the confidence of his companion, and elicited this artless 
 recital of love and desire. 
 
 As Napoleon dismissed his guide with an ample reward, he drew from his 
 pocket a pencil, and upon a loose piece of paper wrote a few lines, which he 
 requested the young man to give, on his return, to the Administrator of the 
 Army upon the other side. When the guide returned and presented the 
 note, he found, to his unbounded surprise and delight, that he had conducted 
 Napoleon over the mountains, and that Napoleon had given him a field and 
 a house. He was thus enabled to be married, and to realize all the dreams 
 of his modest ambition. Generous impulses must have been instinctive in 
 a heart which, in a hour so fraught with mighty events, could turn from the 
 toils of empire and of war, to find refreshment in sympathizing with a peas- 
 ant's love. This young man but recently died, having passed his quiet life 
 in the enjoyment of the field and the cottage which had been given him by 
 the ruler of the world. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MARENGO. 
 
 The Fort of Bard Consternation of Melas Solicitude of Napoleon Proclamation Desaix 
 Montebello Arrival of Desaix Terrific Battle Death of Desaix Consequences of War 
 Instinctive outburst of Emotion Letter to the Emperor of Austria Terms of Capitulation- 
 Napoleon enters Milan Enthusiastic Reception in Paris. 
 
 THE army now pressed forward, with great alacrity, along the banks of 
 the Aosta. They were threading a beautiful valley, rich in verdure, and 
 blooming beneath the sun of early spring. Cottages, vineyards and or- 
 chards in full bloom, embellished their path, while upon each side of them 
 rose, in majestic swell, the fir-clad sides of the mountains. The Austrians, 
 pressing against the frontiers of France, had no conception of the storm 
 which had so suddenly gathered, and which was, with resistless sweep, ap*
 
 1800.] MARENGO. 321 
 
 preaching their rear. The French soldiers, elated with the achievement 
 they had accomplished, and full of confidence in their leader, marched gayly 
 on. But the valley before them began to grow more and more narrow. The 
 mountains- on either side rose more precipitous and craggy. The Aosta, 
 crowded into a narrow channel, rushed foaming over the rocks, leaving bare- 
 ly room for a road along the side of the mountain. Suddenly the march of 
 the whole army was arrested by a fort, built upon an inaccessible rock, which 
 rose pyramidally from the bed of the stream. Bristling cannon, skillfully 
 arranged on well-constructed bastions, swept the pass, and rendered further 
 advance apparently impossible. 
 
 Rapidly the tidings of this unexpected obstruction spread from the van to 
 the rear. Napoleon immediately hastened to the front ranks. Climbing the 
 mountain opposite the fort by a goat path, he threw himself down upon the 
 ground, where a few bushes concealed his person from the shot of the enemy, 
 and with his telescope long and carefully examined the fort and the surround- 
 ing crags. He perceived one elevated spot, far above the fort, where a can- 
 non might by possibility be drawn. From that position its shot could be 
 plunged upon the unprotected bastions below. 
 
 PASSING THE FORT OF BARD. 
 
 Upon the face of the opposite cliff, far beyond the reach of cannon-balls, 
 he discerned a narrow shelf in the rock, by which he thought it possible that 
 a man could pass. The inarch was immediately commenced, in single file, 
 along this giddy ridge. And even the horses, inured to the terrors of the 
 Great St. Bernard, were led by their riders upon the narrow path which a- 
 horse's hoof had never trod before, and probably will never tread again. 
 The Austrians in the fort had the mortification of seeing thirty-five thousand 
 soldiers, with numerous horses, defile along this airy line, as if adhering to 
 the side of the rock, but neither bullet nor ball could harm them.
 
 322 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX. 
 
 Napoleon ascended this mountain ridge, and upon its summit, quite ex- 
 hausted with days and nights of sleeplessness and toil, laid himself down in 
 the shadow of the rock and fell asleep. The long line filed carefully and 
 silently by, each soldier hushing his comrade, that the repose of their beloved 
 chieftain might not be disturbed. It was an interesting spectacle to witness 
 the tender affection beaming from the countenances of these bronzed and 
 war-worn veterans, as every foot trod softly, and each eye, in passing, was 
 riveted upon the slender form and pale and wasted cheek of the sleeping 
 Napoleon. 
 
 The artillery could, by no possibility, be thus transported ; and an army 
 without artillery is a soldier without weapons. The Austrian commander 
 wrote to Melas that he had seen an army of thirty-five thousand men and 
 four thousand horse creeping by the fort, along the face of Mount Albaredo. 
 He assured the commander-in-chief, however, that not one single piece of 
 artillery had passed, or could pass, beneath the guns of his fortress. When 
 he was writing this letter, already had one half the cannon and ammunition 
 of the army been conveyed by the fort, and were safely and rapidly proceed- 
 ing on their way down the valley. 
 
 In the darkness of the night, trusty men, with great caution and silence, 
 strewed hay and straw upon the road. The wheels of the lumbering car- 
 riages were carefully bound with cloths and wisps of straw, and, with axles 
 well oiled, were drawn by the hands of these picked men beneath the very 
 walls of the fortress, and within half pistol-shot of its guns. In two nights 
 the artillery and the baggage-trains were thus passed along, and in a few 
 days the fort itself was compelled to surrender. 
 
 Melas, the Austrian commander, now awoke, in consternation, to a sense 
 of his peril. Napoleon the dreaded Napoleon had, as by a miracle, cross- 
 ed the Alps. He had cut off all his supplies, and was shutting the Austrians 
 up from any possibility of retreat. Bewildered by the magnitude of his peril, 
 he no longer thought of forcing his march upon Paris. The invasion of 
 France was abandoned. His whole energies were directed to opening for 
 himself a passage back to Austria. The most cruel perplexities agitated 
 him. From the very pinnacle of victory, he was in danger of descending to 
 the deepest abyss of defeat. 
 
 It was also with Napoleon an hour of intense solicitude. He had but six- 
 ty thousand men, two thirds of whom were new soldiers who had never seen 
 a shot fired in earnest, with whom he was to arrest the march of a desperate 
 army of one hundred and twenty thousand veterans, abundantly provided 
 with all the most efficient machinery of war. There were many paths by 
 which Melas might escape at leagues' distance from each other. It was 
 necessary for Napoleon to divide his little band, that he might guard them 
 all. He was liable at any moment to have a division of his army attacked 
 by an overwhelming force, and cut to pieces before it could receive any re- 
 enforcements. He ate not, he slept not, he rested not. Day and night, and 
 night and day, he was on horseback, pale, pensive, apparently in feeble 
 health, and interesting every beholder with his grave and melancholy beau- 
 ty. His scouts were out in every direction. He studied all the possible 
 movements and combinations of his foes, Rapidly he overran Lombardy,
 
 1800.] MARENGO. 323 
 
 and entered Milan in triumph. Melas anxiously concentrated his forces to 
 break through the net with which he was entangled. He did every thing in 
 his power to deceive Napoleon by various feints, that the point of his con- 
 templated attack might not be known. Napoleon, in the following clarion 
 tones, appealed to the enthusiasm of his troops : 
 
 " Soldiers ! when we began our march, one department of France was in 
 the hands of the enemy. Consternation pervaded the south of the Repub- 
 lic. You advanced. Already the French territory is delivered. Joy and 
 hope in our country have succeeded to consternation and fear. The enemy, 
 terror-struck, seeks only to regain his frontiers. You have taken his hospi- 
 tals, his magazines, his reserve parks. The first act of the campaign is fin- 
 ished. Millions of men address you in strains of praise. But shall we al- 
 low our audacious enemies to violate with impunity the territory of the Re- 
 public ? Will you permit the army to escape which has carried terror into 
 your families? You will not. March, then, to meet it. Tear from its 
 brows the laurels it has won. Teach the world that a malediction attends 
 those who violate the territory of the Great People. The result of our ef- 
 forts will be unclouded glory and a durable peace !" 
 
 The very day Napoleon left Paris, Desaix arrived in France from Egypt. 
 Frank, sincere, upright, and punctiliously honorable, he was one of the few 
 whom Napoleon truly loved. Desaix regarded Napoleon as infinitely his 
 superior, and looked up to him with a species of adoration ; he loved him 
 with a fervor of feeling which amounted almost to a passion. Napoleon, 
 touched by the affection of a heart so noble, requited it with the most confid- 
 ing friendship. 
 
 Desaix, upon his arrival in Paris, found letters for him there from the First 
 Consul. As he read the confidential lines, he was struck with the melan-- 
 choly air with which they were pervaded. " Alas !" said he, " Napoleon has 
 gained every thing, and yet he is unhappy. I must hasten to meet him." 
 Without delay he crossed the Alps, and arrived at the head-quarters of Na- 
 poleon but a few days before the battle of Marengo. They passed the whole 
 night together, talking over the events of Egypt and the prospects of France. 
 Napoleon felt greatly strengthened by the arrival of his noble friend, and im- 
 mediately assigned to him the command of a division of the army. " De- 
 saix," said he, " is my sheet anchor." 
 
 " You have had a long interview with Desaix," said Bourrienne to Napo- 
 leon the next morning. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " but I had my reasons. As soon as I return to Paris 
 I shall make him Minister of War. He shall always be my lieutenant. I 
 would make him a prince if I could. He is of the heroic mould of antiq- 
 uity !" 
 
 Napoleon was fully aware that a decisive battle would soon take place. 
 Melas was rapidly, from all points, concentrating his army. The following 
 laconic and characteristic order was issued by the First Consul to Lannes 
 and Murat : 
 
 " Gather your forces at the River Stradella. On the 8th or 9th, at the latest, 
 you will have on your hands fifteen or eighteen thousand Austrians. Meet 
 them, and cut them to pieces. It will be so many enemies less upon our
 
 324 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX. 
 
 hands on the day of the decisive battle we are to expect with the entire army 
 ofMelas." 
 
 The prediction was true. An Austrian force advanced, eighteen thousand 
 strong. Lannes met them upon the field of Montebello. They were strong- 
 ly posted, with batteries ranged upon the hill-sides which swept the whole 
 plain. It was of the utmost importance that this body should be prevented 
 from combining with the other vast forces of the Austrians. Lannes had 
 but eight thousand men. Could he sustain the unequal conflict for a few 
 hours, Victor, who was some miles in the rear, could come up with a re- 
 serve of four thousand men. The French soldiers, fully conscious of the odds 
 against which they were to contend, and of the carnage into the midst of 
 which they were plunging, with shouts of enthusiasm rushed upon their foes. 
 Instantaneously a storm of grapeshot from all the batteries swept through his 
 ranks. Said Lannes, " / could hear the bones crash in my division like glass 
 in a hail-storm" 
 
 For nine long hours, from eleven in the morning till eight at night, the 
 horrid carnage continued. Again and again the mangled, bleeding, wasted 
 columns were rallied to the charge. At last, when three thousand French- 
 men were strewn dead upon the ground, the Austrians broke and fled, leav- 
 ing also three thousand mutilated corpses and six thousand prisoners behind 
 them. Napoleon, hastening to the aid of his lieutenant, arrived upon the field 
 just in time to see the battle won. He rode up to Lannes. The intrepid 
 soldier stood in the midst of mounds of the dead, his sword dripping with 
 blood in his exhausted hand, his face blackened with powder and smoke, and 
 his uniform soiled and tattered by the long and terrific strife. Napoleon si- 
 lently but proudly smiled upon the heroic general, and forgot not his reward. 
 From this battle, Lannes received the title of Duke of Montebello, a title by 
 which his family is distinguished to the present day. 
 
 This was the opening of the campaign. It inspired the French with en- 
 thusiasm ; it nerved the Austrians to despair. Melas now determined to 
 make a desperate effort to break through the toils. Napoleon, with intense 
 solicitude, was watching every movement of his foe, knowing not upon what 
 point the onset would fall. Before daybreak on the morning of the 14th of 
 June, Melas, having accumulated forty thousand men, including seven thou- 
 sand cavalry and two hundred pieces of cannon, made an impetuous assault 
 upon the French, but twenty thousand in number, drawn up upon the plain 
 of Marengo. Desaix, with a reserve of six thousand men, was at such a dis- 
 tance, nearly thirty miles from Marengo, that he could not possibly be re- 
 called before the close of the clay. The danger was frightful that the 
 French would be entirely cut to pieces before any succor could arrive. 
 
 But the quick ear of Desaix caught the sound of the heavy cannonade as 
 it came booming over the plain like distant thunder. He sprung from his 
 couch and listened. The heavy and uninterrupted roar proclaimed a pitched 
 battle, and he was alarmed for his beloved chief. Immediately he roused his 
 troops, and they started upon the rush to succor their comrades. Napoleon 
 dispatched courier after courier to hurry the division along, while his troops 
 stood firm through terrific hours as their ranks were plowed by the murder- 
 ous discharges of their foes. At last, the destruction was too awful for mor-
 
 1800.] MARENGO. 325 
 
 tal men to endure. Many divisions of the army broke and fled, crying, "All 
 is lost save himself who can /" 
 
 A scene of frightful disorder ensued. The whole plain was covered with 
 fugitives, swept like an inundation before the multitudinous Austrians. Na- 
 poleon still held a few squares together, who slowly and sullenly retreated, 
 while two hundred pieces of artillery, closely pressing them, poured incessant 
 death into their ranks. Every foot of ground was left encumbered with the 
 dead. It was now three o'clock in the afternoon. Melas, exhausted with 
 toil and assured that he had gained a complete victory, left General Zach to 
 finish the work. He retired to his head-quarters, and immediately dispatched 
 couriers all over Europe to announce the great victory of Marengo. " Me- 
 las is too sanguine," said an Austrian veteran, who had before encountered 
 Napoleon at Arcola and Rivoli ; " depend upon it, our day's work is not vet 
 done. Napoleon will yet be upon us with his reserve." 
 
 Just then the anxious eye of the First Consul espied the solid columns of 
 Desaix entering the plain. Desaix, plunging his spurs into his horse, out- 
 stripped all the rest, and galloped into the presence of Napoleon. As he 
 cast a glance over the wild confusion and devastation of the field, he ex- 
 claimed, hurriedly, 
 
 " I see that the battle is lost. I suppose I can do no more for you than 
 to secure your retreat." 
 
 " By no means," Napoleon replied, with apparently as much composure 
 as if he had been sitting by his own fireside ; " the battle, I trust, is gained. 
 Charge with your column. The disordered troops will rally in your rear." 
 
 Like a rock, Desaix, with his solid phalanx of ten thousand men, met the 
 on-rolling billow of Austrian victory. At the same time, Napoleon dispatch- 
 ed an order to Kellerman with his cavalry to charge the triumphant column 
 of the Austrians in flank. It was the work of a moment, and the whole as- 
 pect of the field w r as changed. Napoleon rode along the lines of those on 
 the retreat, exclaiming, 
 
 " My friends, we have retreated far enough. It is now our turn to ad- 
 vance. Recollect that I am in the habit of sleeping on the field of battle." 
 
 The fugitives, reanimated by the arrival of the reserve, immediately ral- 
 lied in their rear. The double charge in front and flank was instantly made. 
 The Austrians were checked and staggered. A tornado of bullets from De- 
 saix's division swept their ranks. They poured an answering volley into the 
 bosoms of the French. A bullet pierced the breast of Desaix, and he fell 
 and almost immediately expired. His last words were, 
 
 " Tell the First Consul that my only regret in dying is to have perished 
 before having done enough to live in the recollection of posterity." 
 
 The soldiers, who devotedly loved him, saw his fall, and rushed more 
 madly on to avenge his death. The swollen tide of uproar, confusion, and 
 dismay now turned, and rolled in surging billows in the opposite direction. 
 Hardly one moment elapsed before the Austrians, flushed with victory, found 
 themselves overwhelmed by defeat. In the midst of this terrific scene, an 
 aid rode up to Napoleon and said, 
 
 "Desaix is dead." 
 
 But a moment before they were conversing side by side. Napoleon pressed
 
 326 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX. 
 
 his head convulsively with his hand, and exclaimed, mournfully, "Why is it 
 not permitted me to weep ! Victory at such a price is dear." 
 
 The French now made the welkin ring with shouts of victory. Indescrib- 
 able dismay rilled the Austrian ranks, as wildly they rushed before their un- 
 relenting pursuers. Their rout was utter and hopeless. When the sun went 
 down over this field of blood, after twelve hours of the most frightful carnage, 
 a scene was presented horrid enough to appal the heart of a demon. More 
 than twenty thousand human beings were strewn upon the ground, the dying 
 and the dead, weltering in gore, and in every conceivable form of disfigura- 
 tion. Horses, with limbs torn from their bodies, were struggling in convuls- 
 ive agonies. Fragments of guns and swords, and of military wagons of ev- 
 ery kind, were strewed around in wild ruin. Frequent piercing cries, which 
 agony extorted from the lacerated victims of war, rose above the general 
 meanings of anguish, which, like waitings of the storm, fell heavily upon the 
 ear. The shades of night were now descending upon this awful scene of 
 misery. The multitude of the wounded was so great, that, notwithstanding 
 the utmost exertions of the surgeons, hour after hour of the long night lin- 
 gered away, while thousands of the wounded and the dying bit the dust in 
 their agony. 
 
 If war has its chivalry and its pageantry, it has also revolting hideous- 
 ness and demoniac woe. The young, the noble, the sanguine were writhing 
 there in agony. Bullets respect not beauty. They tear out the eye, and 
 shatter the jaw, and rend the cheek, and transform the human face divine 
 into an aspect upon which one can not gaze but with horror. From the field 
 of Marengo many a young man returned to his home so mutilated as no 
 longer to be recognized by friends, and passed a weary life in repulsive de- 
 formity. Mercy abandons the arena of battle. The frantic war-horse, with 
 iron hoof, tramples upon the mangled face, the throbbing and inflamed wounds, 
 the splintered bones, and heeds not the shriek of torture. Crushed into the 
 bloody mire by the ponderous wheels of heavy artillery, the victim of bar- 
 baric war thinks of mother, and father, and sister, and home, and shrieks, 
 and moans, and dies ; his body is stripped by the vagabonds who follow the 
 camp ; his naked, mangled corpse is covered with a few shovelsful of earth, 
 and left as food for vultures and for dogs, and he is forgotten forever and 
 it is called glory. 
 
 He who loves war for the sake of its excitements, its pageantry, and its 
 fancied glory, is the most eminent of all the dupes of folly and of sin. He 
 who loathes war with inexpressible loathing, who will do every thing in his 
 power to avert the dire and horrible calamity, but who will, nevertheless, in 
 the last extremity, with a determined spirit encounter all its perils from love 
 of country and of home, who is willing to sacrifice himself and all that is 
 dear to him in life to promote the well-being of his fellow-man, will ever re- 
 ceive the homage of the world, and we also fully believe that he will receive 
 the approval of God. Washington abhorred war in all its forms, yet he 
 braved all its perils. 
 
 For the carnage of the field of Marengo Napoleon can not be held re- 
 sponsible. Upon England and Austria must rest all the guilt of that awful 
 tragedy. Napoleon had done every thing he could to stop the effusion of
 
 1800.] MARENGO. 327 
 
 blood. He had sacrificed the instincts of pride in pleading with a haughty 
 foe for peace. His plea was unavailing. Three hundred thousand men 
 were marching upon France, to force upon her a detested king. It was not 
 the duty of France to submit to such dictation. Drawing the sword in self- 
 defense, Napoleon fought and conquered. " Te Deum laudamus."* 
 
 It is not possible but that Napoleon must have been elated by so resplen- 
 dent a victory. He knew that Marengo would be classed as the most brill- 
 iant of his achievements. The blow had fallen with such terrible severity, 
 that the haughty Allies were terribly humbled. Melas was now at his mer- 
 cy. Napoleon could dictate peace upon his own terms. Yet he rode over 
 the field of his victory with a saddened spirit, and gazed mournfully upon the 
 ruin and the wretchedness around him. As he was slowly and thoughtfully 
 passing along, through the heaps of the dead with which the ground was en- 
 cumbered, he met a number of carts, heavily laden with the wounded, torn 
 by balls, and bullets, and fragments of shells, into most hideous spectacles 
 of deformity. As the heavy wheels lumbered over the rough ground, grat- 
 ing the splintered bones, and bruising and opening afresh the inflamed wounds, 
 shrieks of torture were extorted from the victims. Napoleon stopped his 
 horse and uncovered his head as the melancholy procession of misfortune 
 and woe passed along. 
 
 Turning to a companion, he said, "We can not but regret not being 
 wounded like these unhappy men, that we might share their sufferings." A 
 more touching expression of sympathy has never been recorded. He who 
 says that this was hypocrisy is a stranger to the generous impulses of a 
 noble heart. This instinctive outburst of emotion never could have been in- 
 stigated by policy. 
 
 Napoleon had fearlessly exposed himself to every peril during this conflict. 
 His clothes were repeatedly pierced by bullets. Balls struck between the 
 legs of his horse, covering him with earth. A cannon-ball took away a piece 
 of the boot from his left leg, and a portion of the skin, leaving a scar which 
 was never obliterated. 
 
 Before Napoleon marched for Italy, he had made every effort in his power 
 for the attainment of peace. Now, with magnanimity above all praise, with- 
 out waiting for the first advance from his conquered foes, he wrote again im- 
 ploring peace. Upon the field of Marengo, having scattered all his enemies 
 like chaff before him, with the smoke of the conflict still darkening the air, 
 and the groans of the dying swelling upon his ear, laying aside all the for- 
 malities of state, with heartfelt feeling and earnestness he wrote to the Em- 
 peror of Austria. This extraordinary epistle was thus commenced : 
 
 * " If British policy and government had been then what it is avowedly and really now, and 
 should always be, that of non-intervention, letting France govern herself as her people chose, Bo- 
 naparte might never have become Napoleon. To get rid of a chief magistrate who restored order, 
 law, religion, the finances, power, and universal peace, war was made ; not declared, as at last in 
 1815, against him personally, but in 1803 actually because he governed a French republic inof- 
 fensively and admirably. If, at that time, Bonaparte had died or resigned, the glories, aggrandize- 
 ment, and downfall of the empire would not have ensued, but his name would have been pure, 
 bright, and clear of calumnious representations. A moral man, an exemplary citizen ; amiable, 
 temperate, chaste, strictly honest and disinterested ; famous as a military chieftain and civil admin- 
 istrator ; a conservative reformer, not a Republican, but a founder of a representative government." 
 History of the Second War, by Ingersoll, vol. i., p. 208.
 
 328 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX- 
 
 " Sire ! It is on the field of battle, amid the sufferings of a multitude of 
 wounded, and surrounded by fifteen thousand corpses, that I beseech your 
 majesty to listen to the voice of humanity, and not to suffer two brave na- 
 tions to cut each others' throats for interests not their own. It is my part 
 to press this upon your majesty, being upon the very theatre of war. Your 
 majesty's heart can not feel it so keenly as does mine." 
 
 The letter was long and most eloquent. " For what are you fighting ?" 
 said Napoleon. " For religion ? Then make war on the Russians and the 
 English, who are the enemies of your faith. Do you wish to guard against 
 revolutionary principles ? It is this very war which has extended them over 
 half the Continent, by extending the conquests of France. The continuance 
 of the war can not fail to diffuse them still further. Is it for the balance of 
 Europe ? The English threaten that balance far more than does France, for 
 they have become the masters and the tyrants of commerce, and are beyond 
 the reach of resistance. Is it to secure the interests of the house of Austria? 
 Let us then execute the treaty of Campo Formic, which secures to your maj- 
 esty large indemnities in compensation for the provinces lost in the Neth- 
 erlands, and secures them to you where you most wish to obtain them, that 
 is, in Italy. Your majesty may send negotiators whither you will, and we 
 will add to the treaty of Campo Formic stipulations calculated to assure you 
 of the continued existence of the secondary states, all of which the French 
 Republic is accused of having shaken. Upon these conditions, peace is 
 made, if you will. Let us make the armistice general for all the armies, 
 and enter into negotiations instantly." 
 
 A courier was immediately dispatched to Vienna to convey this letter to 
 the Emperor. In the evening, Bourrienne hastened to congratulate Napo- 
 leon upon his extraordinary victory. " What a glorious day !" said he. 
 
 " Yes !" replied Napoleon, mournfully, " very glorious could I this even- 
 ing but have embraced Desaix upon the field of battle." 
 
 On the same day, and at nearly the same hour in which the fatal bullet 
 pierced the breast of Desaix, an assassin, in Egypt, plunged, a dagger into 
 the bosom of Kleber. The spirits of these illustrious men, these blood- 
 stained warriors, thus unexpectedly met in the spirit-land. There they wan- 
 der now. How impenetrable the vail which shuts their destiny from our 
 view. The soul longs for clearer vision of that far-distant world, peopled by 
 the innumerable host of the mighty dead. There Napoleon now dwells. 
 Does he retain his intellectual supremacy? Do his generals gather around 
 him with love and homage ? Has his pensive spirit sunk down into gloom 
 and despair, or has it soared into cloudless regions of purity and peace ? 
 The mystery of Death ! Death alone can solve it. Christianity, with its 
 lofty revealings, sheds but dim twilight upon the world of departed spirits. 
 
 At St. Helena, Napoleon said, " Of all the generals I ever had under my 
 command, Desaix and Kleber possessed the greatest talent in particular 
 Desaix, as Kleber loved glory only as the means of acquiring wealth and 
 pleasure. Desaix loved glory for itself, and despised every other considera- 
 tion. To him riches and pleasure were of no value, nor did he ever give 
 them a moment's thought. He was a little, black-looking man, about an inch 
 shorter than myself, always badly dressed, sometimes even ragged, and de-
 
 1800.] MARENGO. 329 
 
 spising alike comfort and convenience. Enveloped in a cloak, Desaix would 
 throw himself under a gun, and sleep as contentedly as if reposing in a pal- 
 ace. Luxury had for him no charms. Frank and honest in all his proceed- 
 ings, he was denominated by the Arabs Sultan the Just. Nature intended 
 him to figure as a consummate general. Kleber and Desaix were irrepar- 
 able losses to France." 
 
 It is impossible to describe the dismay which pervaded the camp of the 
 Austrians after this terrible defeat. .They were entirely cut off from all re- 
 treat, and were at the mercy of Napoleon. A council of war was held by 
 the Austrian officers during the night, and it was unanimously resolved that 
 capitulation was unavoidable. Early the next morning a flag of truce was 
 sent to the head-quarters of Napoleon. The Austrians offered to abandon 
 Italy if the generosity of the victor would grant them the boon of not being 
 made prisoners of war. Napoleon met the envoy with great courtesy, and, 
 according to his custom, stated promptly and irrevocably the conditions upon 
 which he was willing to treat. The terms were generous. 
 
 " The Austrian armies," said he, " may unmolestedly return to their homes ; 
 but all of Italy must be abandoned." 
 
 Melas, who was eighty years of age, hoped to modify the terms, and again 
 sent the negotiator to suggest some alterations. 
 
 " Monsieur !" said Napoleon, " my conditions are irrevocable. I did not 
 begin to make war yesterday. Your position is as perfectly comprehended 
 by me as by yourselves. You are encumbered with dead, sick, and wound- 
 ed, destitute of provisions, deprived of the elite of your army, surrounded on 
 every side. I might exact every thing ; but I respect the white hairs of your 
 general, and the valor of your soldiers. I ask nothing but what is rigorously 
 justified by the present position of affairs. Take what steps you may, you 
 will have no other terms." 
 
 The conditions were immediately signed, and a suspension of arms was 
 agreed upon until an answer could be received from Vienna. 
 
 Napoleon left Paris for this campaign on the 7th of May. The battle of 
 Marengo was fought on the 14th of June. Thus, in five weeks, Napoleon 
 had scaled the barrier of the Alps : with sixty thousand soldiers, most of 
 them undisciplined recruits, he had utterly discomfited an army of one hun- 
 dred and twenty thousand men, and regained the whole of Italy. The 
 achievement amazed the civilized world. The bosom of every Frenchman 
 throbbed with gratitude and pride. One shout of enthusiasm ascended from 
 united France. Napoleon had laid the foundation of his throne deep in the 
 heart of the French nation, and there that foundation still remains unshaken. 
 
 Napoleon now entered Milan in triumph. He remained there ten days, 
 busy apparently every hour, by day and by night, in reorganizing the polit. 
 ical condition of Italy. The serious and religious tendencies of his mind are 
 developed by the following note, which four days after the battle of Maren- 
 go he wrote to the Consuls in Paris : " To-day, whatever our Atheists may 
 say to it, I go in great state to the Te Deum which is to be chanted in the 
 Cathedral of Milan."* 
 
 * The Te Deum is an anthem of praise, sung in churches on occasion of thanksgiving. It is so 
 called from the first words, " Te Deum laudamus," Thee, God, we praise.
 
 330 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX. 
 
 An unworthy spirit of detraction has vainly sought to wrest from Napoleon 
 the honor of this victory, and to attribute it all to the flank charge made by 
 Kellerman. Such attempts deserve no detailed reply. Napoleon had se- 
 cretly and suddenly called into being an army, and by its apparently mirac- 
 ulous creation had astounded Europe. He had effectually deceived the 
 vigilance of his enemies, so as to leave them entirely in the dark respect- 
 ing his point of attack. He had conveyed that army, with all its stores, over 
 the pathless crags of the Great St. Bernard. Like an avalanche he had de- 
 scended from the mountains upon the plains of startled Italy. He had sur- 
 rounded the Austrian hosts, though they were double his numbers, with a 
 net through which they could not break. In a decisive battle he had scat- 
 tered their ranks before him like chaff before the whirlwind. He was nobly 
 seconded by those generals whom his genius had chosen and created. 
 
 It is indeed true, that without his generals and his soldiers he could not 
 have gained the victory. Massena contributed to the result by his match- 
 less defense of Genoa ; Moreau, by holding in abeyance the army of the 
 Rhine ; Lannes, by his iron firmness on the plain of Montebello ; Desaix, by 
 the promptness with which he rushed to the rescue, as soon as his ear 
 caught the far-off thunders of the cannon of Marengo ; and Kellerman, by 
 his admirable flank charge of cavalry. But it was the genius of Napoleon 
 which planned the mighty combination, which roused and directed the en- 
 thusiasm of the generals, which inspired the soldiers with fearlessness and 
 nerved them for the strife, and which, through these efficient agencies, se- 
 cured the astounding results. 
 
 Napoleon established his triumphant army, now increased to eighty thou- 
 sand men, in the rich valley of the Po. He assigned to the heroic Massena 
 the command of this triumphant host, and ordering all the forts and citadels 
 which blocked the approaches from France to be blown up, set out, on the 
 24th of June, for his return to Paris. In recrossing the Alps by the pass of 
 Mount Cenis, he met the carriage of Madame Kellerman, who was going to 
 Italy to join her husband. Napoleon ordered his carriage to be stopped, and 
 alighting, greeted the lady with great courtesy, and congratulated her upon 
 the gallant conduct of her husband at Marengo. As he was riding along 
 one day, Bourrienne spoke of the world-wide renown which the First Con- 
 sul had attained. 
 
 " Yes," Napoleon thoughtfully replied. " A few more events like this 
 campaign, and my name may perhaps go down to posterity." 
 
 " I think," Bourrienne rejoined, " that you have already done enough to 
 secure a long and lasting fame." 
 
 " Done enough !" Napoleon replied. " You are very good ! It is true 
 that in less than two years I have conquered Cairo, Paris, Milan. But were 
 I to die to-morrow, half a page of general history would be all that would be 
 devoted to my exploits." 
 
 Napoleon's return to Paris, through the provinces of France, was a scene 
 of constant triumph. The joy of the people amounted almost to phrensy. 
 Bonfires, illuminations, the pealing of bells, and the thunders of artillery, ac- 
 companied him all the way. Long lines of young maidens, selected for 
 their grace and beauty, formed avenues of loveliness and smiles through
 
 1800.J MARENGO. g 31 
 
 which he was to pass, and carpeted his path with flowers. He arrived in 
 Paris at midnight on the 2d of July, having been absent but eight weeks. 
 
 The enthusiasm of the Parisians was unbounded and inexhaustible. Day 
 after day, and night after night, the festivities continued. The Palace of 
 the Tuileries was ever thronged with a crowd, eager to catch a glimpse of 
 the preserver of France. All the public bodies waited upon him with con- 
 gratulations. Bells rang, cannon thundered, bonfires and illuminations 
 blazed, rockets and fire-works, in meteoric splendor, filled the air, bands of 
 music poured forth their exuberant strains, and united Paris, thronging the 
 garden of the Tuileries, and flooding back into the Elysian Fields, rent the 
 heavens with deafening shouts of exultation. As Napoleon stood at the 
 window of his palace, witnessing this spectacle of a nation's gratitude, he 
 said, 
 
 " The sound of these acclamations is as sweet to me as the voice of Jose- 
 phine. How happy I am to be beloved by such a people !" 
 
 Preparations were immediately made for a brilliant and imposing solem- 
 nity in commemoration of the victory. " Let no triumphal arch be raised 
 to me," said Napoleon. " I wish for no triumphal arch but the public satis- 
 faction." 
 
 It is not strange that enthusiasm and gratitude should have glowed in the 
 ardent bosoms of the French. In four months Napoleon had raised France 
 from an abyss of ruin to the highest pinnacle of prosperity and renown. 
 For anarchy he had substituted law, for bankruptcy a well-replenished 
 treasury, for ignominious defeat resplendent victory, for universal discontent 
 as universal satisfaction. The invaders were driven from France, the hos- 
 tile alliance broken, and the blessings of peace were now promised to the 
 war-harassed nation. 
 
 During this campaign there was presented a very interesting illustration 
 of Napoleon's wonderful power of anticipating the progress of coming events. 
 Bourrienne one day, just before the commencement of the campaign, enter- 
 ed the cabinet at the Tuileries, and found an immense map of Italy unrolled 
 upon the carpet, and Napoleon stretched upon it. With pins, whose heads 
 were tipped with red and black sealing-wax, to represent the French and 
 Austrian forces, Napoleon was studying all the possible combinations and 
 evolutions of the two hostile armies. Bourrienne, in silence, but with deep 
 interest, watched the progress of this pin campaign. Napoleon, having ar- 
 ranged the pins with red heads where he intended to conduct the French 
 troops, and with the black pins designating the point which he supposed the 
 Austrians would occupy, looked up to his secretary and said, 
 
 " Do you think that I shall beat Melas?" 
 
 " Why, how can I tell ?" Bourrienne answered. 
 
 "Why, you simpleton," said Napoleon, playfully, "just look here. Me- 
 las is at Alexandria, where he has his head-quarters. He will remain there 
 until Genoa surrenders. He has in Alexandria his magazines, his hospitals, 
 his artillery, his reserves. Passing the Alps here," sticking a pin into the 
 Great St. Bernard, " I fall upon Melas in his rear. I cut oflfhis communica- 
 tions with Austria. I meet him here in the valley of the Bormida." So 
 saying, he stuck a red pin into the plain of Marengo.
 
 332 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XX. 
 
 NAPOLEON PLANNING A CAMPAIGN. 
 
 Bourrienne regarded this maneuvering of pins as mere pastime. His coun. 
 tenance expressed his perfect incredulity. Napoleon, perceiving this, ad- 
 dressed to him some of his usual apostrophes, in which he was accustomed 
 playfully to indulge in moments of relaxation, such as, " You ninny ! You 
 goose !" and rolled up the map. 
 
 Ten weeks passed away, and Bourrienne found himself upon the banks of 
 the Bormida, writing, at Napoleon's dictation, an account of the battle of 
 Marengo. Astonished to find Napoleon's anticipations thus minutely ful- 
 filled, he frankly avowed his admiration of the military sagacity thus dis- 
 played. Napoleon himself smiled at the justice of his foresight. 
 
 Two days before the news of the battle of Marengo arrived in Vienna, 
 England effected a new treaty with Austria for the more vigorous prosecu- 
 tion of the war. By this convention, it was provided that England should 
 loan Austria ten millions of dollars, to bear no interest during the continu- 
 ance of the conflict. And the Austrian cabinet bound itself not to make 
 peace with France without the consent of the court of St. James. The 
 Emperor of Austria was now sadly embarrassed. His sense of honor would 
 not allow him to violate his pledge to the King of England and to make 
 peace. On the other hand, he trembled at the thought of seeing the armies 
 of the invincible Napoleon again marching upon his capital. He therefore 
 resolved to temporize, and, in order to gain time, sent an embassador to 
 Paris. The plenipotentiary presented to Napoleon a letter, in which the 
 Emperor stated, 
 
 " You will give credit to every thing which Count Julien shall say on my 
 part. I will ratify whatever he shall do." 
 
 Napoleon, prompt in action, and uninformed of the new treaty between 
 Francis and George TIL, immediate!} caused the preliminaries of peace
 
 1800.] HOHENLINDEN. 333 
 
 to be drawn up, which were signed by the French and Austrian ministers. 
 The cabinet in Vienna, angry with their embassador for not protracting the 
 discussion, refused to ratify the treaty, recalled Count Julien, sent him into 
 exile, informed the First Consul of the treaty which bound Austria not to 
 make peace without the concurrence of Great Britain, assured France of the 
 readiness of the English cabinet to enter into negotiations, and urged the 
 immediate opening of a Congress at Luneville, to which plenipotentiaries 
 should be sent from each of the three great contending powers.* 
 
 Napoleon was highly indignant in view of this duplicity and perfidy. Yet, 
 controlling his anger, he consented to treat with England, and with that view 
 proposed a naval armistice with the mistress of the seas. To this propo- 
 sition England peremptorily refused to accede, as it would enable France 
 to throw supplies into Egypt and Malta, which island England was besieg- 
 ing. The naval armistice would have been undeniably for the interests of 
 France. But the Continental armistice was as undeniably adverse to her 
 interests, enabling Austria to recover from her defeats and to strengthen 
 her armies. Napoleon, fully convinced that England, in her inaccessible 
 position, did not wish for peace, and that her only object in endeavoring to 
 obtain admittance to the Congress was that she might throw obstacles in 
 the way of reconciliation with Austria, offered to renounce all armistice with 
 England, and to treat with her separately. This England also refused. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HOHENLINDEN. 
 
 Duplicity of Austria Obstinacy of England Responsibility of Pitt Battle of Hohenlinden 
 Treaty of Luneville Testimony of Scott and Alison Universality of Napoleon's Genius Let- 
 ter of General Durosel The infernal Machine Josephine's Letter Absurd Reports Madame 
 Junot Hortense. 
 
 IT was now September. Two months had passed in vexatious and sterile 
 negotiations. Napoleon had taken every step in his power to secure peace. 
 He sincerely desired it. He had already won all the laurels he could wish 
 to win on the field of battle. The reconstruction of society in France, and 
 the consolidation of his power, demanded all his energies. The consolida- 
 tion of his power ! That was just what the government of England dreaded. 
 The consolidation of republican power, almost within cannon shot of the 
 court of England, was an evil to be avoided at every hazard. It threatened 
 the overthrow of both king and nobles. 
 
 William Pitt, the soul of the aristocratic government of England, determ- 
 ined still to prosecute the war. France could not harm England. But En- 
 
 * "Conscious now of the mortal blunder he had committed in rejecting the overtures for peace, 
 the Emperor (of Austria) dispatched an envoy to Paris in the person of Count Julien, but rather to 
 sound the views of the French government than armed with actual powers to treat. Nevertheless, 
 the alarm of Pitt at this step was very great, and he labored with all his might to induce the Aus- 
 trian cabinet to continue the war, making it the most lavish promises of subsidies from the British 
 people. In truth, Austria was still inclined to try again the fortune of war, from the very excess 
 of her disaster ; but she wanted breathing-tune after her prodigious losses, and she besought an 
 extension of the Italian armistice to Germany." French Revolution, by T. W. Redhead. 
 
 VOL. II. C
 
 334 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 gland, with her invincible fleet, could sweep the commerce of France from 
 the seas. Fox and his coadjutors, with great eloquence and energy, opposed 
 the war. Their efforts were, however, unavailing. The people of England, 
 notwithstanding all the efforts of the government to defame the character of 
 the First Consul, still cherished the conviction that, after all, Napoleon was 
 their friend. Napoleon, in subsequent years, while reviewing these scenes 
 of his early conflicts, with characteristic eloquence and magnanimity, gave 
 utterance to the following sentiments, which the verdict of the world will 
 certainly yet confirm. 
 
 " Pitt was the master of European policy. He held in his hands the mor- 
 al fate of nations. But he made an ill use of his power. He kindled the 
 fire of discord throughout the universe ; and his name, like that of Erostra- 
 tus, will be inscribed in history, amid flames, lamentations, and tears. Twen- 
 ty-five years of universal conflagration, the numerous coalitions that added 
 fuel to the flame, the revolution and devastation of Europe, the bloodshed 
 of nations, the frightful debt of England, by which all these horrors were 
 maintained, the pestilential system of loans by which the people of Europe 
 are oppressed, the general discontent that now prevails all must be attrib- 
 uted to Pitt. Posterity will brand him as a scourge. 
 
 " The man so lauded in his own time will hereafter be regarded as the 
 genius of evil. Not that I consider him to have been willfully atrocious, or 
 doubt his having entertained the conviction that he was acting right. But 
 St. Bartholemew had also its conscientious advocates. The Pope and car- 
 dinals celebrated it by a Te Deum, and we have no reason to doubt their 
 having done so in perfect sincerity. Such is the weakness of human reason 
 and judgment ? But that for which posterity will, above all, execrate the 
 memory of Pitt, is the hateful school which he has left behind him ; its in- 
 solent Machiavelism, its profound immorality, its cold egotism, and its utter 
 disregard of justice and human happiness. Whether it be the effect of ad- 
 miration and gratitude, or the result of mere instinct and sympathy, Pitt is, 
 and will continue to be, the idol of the European aristocracy. 
 
 " There was, indeed, a touch of the Sylla in his character. His system 
 has kept the popular cause in check, and brought about the triumph of the 
 patricians. As for Fox, one must not look for his model among the ancients. 
 He is himself a model, and his principles will sooner or later rule the world. 
 The death of Fox was one of the fatalities of my career. Had his life been 
 prolonged, affairs would have taken a totally different turn. The cause of 
 the people would have triumphed, and we should have established a new 
 order of things in Europe." 
 
 Austria really desired peace. The march of Napoleon's armies upon Vi- 
 enna was an evil more to be dreaded than even the consolidation of Napo- 
 leon's power in France. But Austria was, by loans and treaties, so entan- 
 gled with England, that she could make no peace without the consent of the 
 court of St. James. Napoleon found that he was but trifled with. Inter- 
 minable difficulties were thrown in the way of negotiation. Austria was 
 taking advantage of the cessation of hostilities merely to recruit her defeat- 
 ed armies, that, as soon as the approaching winter had passed away, she 
 might fall, with renovated energies, upon France.
 
 1800.J HOHENLINDEN. 335 
 
 The month of November had now arrived, and the mountains whitened 
 ivith snow, were swept by the bleak winds of winter. The period of the 
 armistice had expired. Austria applied for its prolongation. Napoleon was 
 no longer thus to be duped. He consented, however, to a continued suspen- 
 sion of hostilities, on condition that the treaty of peace were signed within 
 forty-eight hours. Austria, believing that no sane man would march an 
 army into Germany in the dead of winter, and that she would have abundant 
 time to prepare for a spring campaign, refused. The armies of France were 
 immediately on the move. 
 
 The Emperor of Austria had improved every moment of this transient in- 
 terval of peace in recruiting his forces. In person he had visited the army 
 to inspire his troops with enthusiasm. The command of the imperial forces 
 was intrusted to his second brother, the Archduke John. Napoleon moved 
 with his accustomed vigor. The political necessities of Paris and of France 
 rendered it impossible for him to leave the metropolis. He ordered one 
 powerful army, under General Brune, to attack the Austrians in Italy, on 
 the banks of the Mincio, and to press firmly toward Vienna. In the per- 
 formance of this operation, General Macdonald, in the dead of winter, ef- 
 fected his heroic passage over the Alps by the pass of the Splugen. Victory 
 followed their standards. 
 
 Moreau, with his magnificent army, commenced a winter campaign on the 
 Rhine. Between the rivers Iser and Inn there is an enormous forest, many 
 leagues in extent, of sombre firs and pines. It is a dreary and almost unin- 
 habited wilderness of wild ravines and tangled under-brush. Two great 
 roads have been cut through the forest, and sundry woodmen's paths pene- 
 trate it at different points. In the centre there is a little hamlet of a few 
 miserable huts, called Hohenlinden. In this forest, on the night of the 3d 
 of December, 1800, Moreau, with sixty thousand men, encountered the Arch- 
 duke John with seventy thousand Austrian troops. 
 
 The clocks upon the towers of Munich had but just tolled the hour of mid- 
 night when both armies were in motion, each hoping to surprise the other. 
 A dismal wintry storm was howling over the tree-tops, and the smothering 
 snow, falling rapidly, obliterated all traces of a path, and rendered it almost 
 impossible to drag through the drifts the ponderous artillery. Both parties, 
 in the dark and tempestuous night, became entangled in the forest, and the 
 heads of their columns in various places met. An awful scene of confusion, 
 conflict, and carnage then ensued. Imagination can not compass the terri- 
 ble sublimity of that spectacle. The dark midnight, the bowlings of the 
 wintry storm, the driving sheets of snow, the incessant roar of artillery and 
 of musketry from one hundred and thirty thousand combatants, the lightning 
 flashes of the guns, the crash of the falling trees as the heavy cannon-balls 
 swept through the forest, the floundering of innumerable horsemen, bewil- 
 dered in the pathless snow, the shouts of onset, the shriek of death, and 
 the burst of martial music from a thousand bands, all combined to present 
 a scene of horror and of demoniac energy which probably even this lost 
 world never presented before. 
 
 The darkness of the black forest was so intense, and the snow fell in flakes 
 so thick, and fast, and blinding, that the combatants could with difficulty see
 
 336 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 each other. They often judged of the foe only by his position, and fired at 
 the flashes gleaming through the gloom. At times, hostile divisions became 
 intermingled in inextricable confusion, and hand to hand, bayonet crossing 
 bayonet, and sword clashing against sword, they fought with the ferocity of 
 demons ; for though the officers of an army may be influenced by the most 
 elevated sentiments of dignity and of honor, the mass of the common soldiers 
 have ever been the most miserable, worthless, and degraded of mankind. 
 As the advancing and retreating hosts wavered to and fro, the wounded, by 
 thousands, were left on the hill-sides and in dark ravines, with the drifting 
 snow, crimsoned with blood, their only blanket, there in solitude and agony 
 to moan, and freeze, and die. What death-scenes the eye of God must have 
 witnessed that night, in the solitude of that dark, tempest-tossed, and blood- 
 stained forest ! 
 
 At last the morning dawned through the unbroken clouds, and the battle 
 raged with renovated fury. Nearly twenty thousand of the mutilated bodies 
 of the dead and wounded were left upon the field, with gory locks frozen to 
 their icy pillows, and covered with mounds of snow. At last the French 
 were victorious at every point. The Austrians, having lost twenty -five thou- 
 sand men in killed, wounded, and prisoners, one hundred pieces of artillery, 
 and an immense number of wagons, fled in dismay. This terrific conflict 
 has been immortalized by the noble epic of Campbell, which is now familiar 
 wherever the English language is known. 
 
 " On Linden, when the sun was low, 
 All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 
 And dark as winter was the flow 
 Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 
 
 " But Linden saw another sight, 
 When the drums beat at dead of night, 
 Commanding fires of death to light 
 The darkness of her scenery," &c. 
 
 The retreating Austrians rushed down the valley of the Danube. Moreau 
 followed thundering at their heels, plunging balls and shells into their retreat- 
 ing ranks. The victorious French were within thirty miles of Vienna, and 
 the capital was in a state of indescribable dismay. The Emperor again sent 
 an envoy imploring an armistice. The application was promptly acceded 
 to, for Napoleon was contending only for peace. Yet, with unexampled mag- 
 nanimity, notwithstanding these astonishing victories, Napoleon made no es- 
 sential alterations in his terms. Austria was at his feet. His conquering 
 armies were almost in sight of the steeples of Vienna. There was no power 
 which .the Emperor could present to obstruct their resistless march. He 
 might have exacted any terms of humiliation. But still he adhered to the 
 first terms which he had proposed. 
 
 Moreau was urged by some of his officers to press on to Vienna. " We 
 had better halt," he replied, " and be content with peace. It is for that 
 alone that we are fighting." The Emperor of Austria was thus compelled 
 to treat without the concurrence of England. The insurmountable obstacle 
 in the way of peace was thus removed. At Luneville, Joseph Bonaparte 
 appeared as the embassador of Napoleon, and Count Cobentzel as the pleni*
 
 HOHENLINDEN. 
 
 337 
 
 1801.] 
 
 potentiary of Austria. The terms of the treaty were soon settled, and France 
 was again at peace with all the world, England alone excepted. 
 
 DEATH AT HOHENLINDEN. 
 
 By this treaty the Rhine was acknowledged as the boundary of France. 
 The Adige limited the possessions of Austria in Italy ; and Napoleon made 
 it an essential article that every Italian imprisoned in the dungeons of Aus- 
 tria for political offenses should immediately be liberated. There was to be 
 no interference by either with the new republics which had sprung up in 
 Italy. They were to be permitted to choose whatever form of government 
 they preferred. 
 
 In reference to this treaty, Sir Walter Scott makes the candid admission
 
 338 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 that " the treaty of Luneville was not much more advantageous to France 
 than that of Campo Formio. The moderation of the First Consul indicated 
 at once his desire for peace upon the Continent, and considerable respect for 
 the bravery and strength of Austria." And Alison, in cautious but signifi- 
 cant phrase, remarks, " These conditions did not differ materially from those 
 pffered by Napoleon before the renewal of the war ; a remarkable circum- 
 stance, when it is remembered how vast an addition the victories of Mareri- 
 go, Hohenlinden, and the Mincio had since made to the preponderance of 
 the French armies." 
 
 It was, indeed, " a remarkable circumstance," that Napoleon should have 
 manifested such unparalleled moderation under circumstances of such ag- 
 gravated indignity. In Napoleon's first Italian campaign he was contending 
 solely for peace. At last he attained it, in the treaty of Campo Formio, on 
 terms equally honorable to Austria and to France. On his return from 
 Egypt, he found the armies of Austria, three hundred thousand strong, in 
 alliance with England, invading the territories of the Republic. He im- 
 plored peace, in the name of bleeding humanity, upon the fair basis of the 
 treaty of Campo Formio. His foes regarded his supplication as the implor- 
 ing cry of weakness, and treated it with scorn. With new vigor they poured 
 their tempests of balls and shells upon France. 
 
 Napoleon scaled the Alps, and dispersed his foes at Marengo like autumn 
 leaves before the gale. Amid the smoke, the blood, and the groans of the 
 field of his victory, he again wrote imploring peace ; and he wrote in terms 
 dictated by the honest and gushing sympathies of a humane man, and not in 
 the cold and stately forms of the diplomatist. Crushed as his foes were, he 
 rose not in his demands, but nobly said, " I am still willing to make peace 
 upon the fair basis of the treaty of Campo Formio." 
 
 His treacherous foes, to gain time to recruit their armies, that they might 
 fall upon him with renovated vigor, agreed to an armistice. They then 
 threw all possible embarrassments in the way of negotiation, and prolonged 
 the armistice till the winds of winter were sweeping fiercely over the snow- 
 covered hills of Austria. They thought that it was then too late for Napo- 
 leon to make any movements until spring, and that they had a long winter 
 before them in which to prepare for another campaign. They refused peace. 
 Through storms, and freezing gales, and drifting snows, the armies of Napo- 
 leon marched painfully to Hohenlinden. The hosts of Austria were again 
 routed, and were swept away as the drifted snow flies before the gale. Ten 
 thousand Frenchmen lie cold in death, the terrible price of the victory. The 
 Emperor of Austria, in his palaces, heard the thunderings of Napoleon's ap- 
 proaching artillery. He implored peace. " It is all that I desire," said Na- 
 poleon ; " I am not fighting for ambition or for conquest. I am still ready 
 to make peace upon the fair basis of the treaty of Campo Formio." 
 
 While all the Continent was now at peace with France, England alone, 
 with indomitable resolution, continued the war, without allies, and without 
 any apparent or avowed object. France, comparatively powerless upon the 
 seas, could strike no blows which would be felt by the distant islanders. 
 " On every point," says Sir Walter Scott, "the English squadrons annihila- 
 ted the commerce of France, crippled her revenues, and blockaded her forts."
 
 1801.] HOHENLINDEN. 339 
 
 The treaty of Luneville was signed on the 9th of February, 1801. Napo- 
 leon, lamenting the continued hostility of England, in announcing this peace 
 to the people of France, remarked, "Why is not this treaty the treaty of a 
 general peace ? This was the wish of France. This has been the constant 
 object of the efforts of her government, but its desires are fruitless. All 
 Europe knows that the British minister has endeavored to frustrate the ne- 
 gotiations at Luneville. In vain was it declared to him that France was 
 ready to enter into a separate negotiation. This declaration only produced 
 a refusal, under the pretext that England could not abandon her ally. Since 
 then, when that ally consented to treat without England, that government 
 sought other means to delay a peace so necessary to the world. It raises 
 pretensions contrary to the dignity and rights of all nations. The whole 
 commerce of Asia, and of immense colonies, does not satisfy its ambition. 
 All the seas must submit to the exclusive sovereignty of England." As 
 William Pitt received the tidings of this discomfiture of his allies, in despair- 
 ing despondency he exclaimed, " Fold up the map of Europe. It need not 
 again be opened for twenty years." 
 
 While Jthese great affairs were in progress, Napoleon, in Paris, w r as con- 
 secrating his energies with almost miraculous power in developing all the 
 resources of the majestic empire under his control. He possessed the power 
 of abstraction to a degree which has probably never been equaled. He could 
 concentrate all his attention for any length of time upon one subject, and 
 then, laying that aside entirely, without expending any energies in unavail- 
 ing anxiety, could turn to another with all the freshness and the vigor of an 
 unpreoccupied mind. Incessant mental labor was the luxury of his life. 
 
 " Occupation," said he, " is my element. I am born and made for it. I 
 have found the limits beyond which I could not use my legs. I have seen 
 the extent to which I could use my eyes, but I have never known any bounds 
 to my capacity for application." 
 
 The universality of Napoleon's genius was now most conspicuous. The 
 revenues of the nation were replenished, and all the taxes arranged to the 
 satisfaction of the people. The Bank of France was reorganized, and new 
 energy infused into its operations. Several millions of dollars were expend- 
 ed in constructing and perfecting five magnificent roads radiating from Paris 
 to the frontiers of the empire. Robbers, the vagabonds of disbanded armies, 
 infested the roads, rendering traveling dangerous in the extreme. " Be pa- 
 tient," said Napoleon. " Give me a month or two. I must first conquer peace 
 abroad. I will then do speedy and complete justice upon these highway- 
 men." 
 
 A very important canal, connecting Belgium with France, had been com- 
 menced some years before. The engineers could not agree respecting the 
 best direction of the cutting through the highlands which separated the val- 
 ley of the Oise from that of the Somme. He visited the spot in person, de- 
 cided the question promptly and decided it wisely, and the canal was pressed 
 to its completion. He immediately caused three new bridges to be thrown 
 across the Seine at Paris. He commenced the magnificent road of the Sim- 
 plon, crossing the rugged Alps with a broad and smooth highway, which for 
 ages will remain a durable monument of the genius and energy of Napoleon-
 
 340 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE [CHAP. XXL 
 
 -" In gratitude for the favors he had received from the monks of the Great St. 
 Bernard, he founded two similar establishments for the aid of travelers, one 
 on Mount Cenis, the other on the Simplon, and both auxiliary to the convent 
 on the Great St. Bernard. Concurrently with these majestic undertakings, 
 he commenced the compilation of the civil code of France. The ablest law- 
 yers of Europe were summoned to this enterprise, and the whole work was 
 discussed section by section in the Council of State, over which Napoleon 
 presided. The lawyers were amazed to find that the First Consul was as 
 perfectly familiar with all the details of legal and political science as he was 
 with military strategy. 
 
 Bourrienne mentions that, one day, a letter was received from an emi- 
 grant, General Durosel, who had taken refuge in the island of Jersey. The 
 following is an extract from the letter : 
 
 " You can not have forgotten, general, that when your late father was 
 obliged to take your brothers from the college of Autun, he was unprovided 
 with money, and asked of me one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which I 
 lent him with pleasure. After his return he had not an opportunity of pay- 
 ing me, and when I left Ajaccio your mother offered to -dispose of some 
 plate in order to pay the debt. To this I objected, and told her that I would 
 wait until she could pay me at her convenience. Previous to the Revolu- 
 tion, I believe that it was not in her power to fulfill her wish of discharging 
 the debt. I am sorry to be obliged to trouble you about such a trifle, but 
 such is my unfortunate situation that even this trifle is of some importance 
 to me. At the age of eighty-six, general, after having served my country 
 for sixty years, I am compelled to take refuge here, and to subsist on a scanty 
 allowance granted by the English government to French emigrants. I say 
 emigrants, for I am obliged to be one against my will." 
 
 Upon hearing this letter read, Napoleon immediately and warmly said, 
 " Bourrienne, this is sacred. Do not lose a moment. Send the old man ten 
 times the sum. Write to General Durosel that he shall be immediately 
 erased from the list of emigrants. What mischief those brigands of the 
 Convention have done. I can never repair it all." Napoleon uttered these 
 words with a degree of emotion which he had rarely before evinced. In 
 the evening he inquired with much interest of Bourrienne if he had executed 
 his orders. 
 
 Many attempts were made at this time to assassinate the First Consul. 
 Though France, with unparalleled unanimity, surrounded him with admira- 
 tion, gratitude, and homage, there were violent men in the two extremes of 
 society, among the Jacobins and the inexorable Royalists, who regarded him 
 as in their way. Napoleon's escape from the explosion'of the infernal ma- 
 chine, got up by the Royalists, was almost miraculous. 
 
 On the evening of the 24th of December, 1800, Napoleon was going to 
 the Opera to hear Haydn's Oratorio of the Creation, which was to be per- 
 formed for the first time. Intensely occupied by business, he was reluctant 
 to go, but, to gratify Josephine, yielded to her urgent request. It was neces- 
 sary for his carriage to pass through a narrow street. A cart, apparently by 
 accident overturned, obstructed the passage. A barrel suspended beneath 
 the cart contained as deadly a machine as could be constructed with gun-
 
 1801.] HOHENLINDEN. 341 
 
 powder and all the missiles of death. The coachman succeeded, in forcing 
 his way by the cart. He had barely passed when an explosion took place, 
 which was heard all over Paris, and which seemed to shake the city to its 
 foundations. Eight persons were instantly killed, and more than sixty were 
 wounded, of whom about twenty subsequently died. The houses for a long 
 distance on each side of the street were fearfully shattered, and many of 
 them were nearly blown to pieces. The carriage rocked as upon the bil- 
 lows of the sea, and the windows were shattered to fragments. 
 
 THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 
 
 Napoleon had been in too many scenes of terror to be alarmed by any 
 noise or destruction which gunpowder could produce. " Ha !" said he, with 
 perfect composure, "we are blown up." One of his companions in the 
 carriage, greatly terrified, thrust his head through the demolished window, 
 and called loudly to the driver to stop. " No, no !" said Napoleon, " drive on." 
 
 When the First Consul entered the opera house, he appeared perfectly 
 calm and unmoved. The greatest consternation, however, prevailed in all 
 parts of the house, for the explosion had been heard, and fearful apprehen- 
 sions were felt for the safety of the idolized Napoleon. As soon as he ap- 
 peared, thunders of applause, which shook the very walls of the theatre, gave 
 affecting testimony of the attachment of the people to his person. In a few 
 moments, Josephine, who had come in her private carriage, entered the box. 
 Napoleon turned to her with perfect tranquillity and said, "The rascals 
 tried to blow me up. Where is the book of the Oratorio ?" 
 
 Napoleon soon left the Opera and returned to the Tuileries. He found a 
 vast crowd assembled there, attracted by affection for his person and anxie- 
 ty for his safety. The atrocity of this attempt excited universal horror, 
 and only increased the already almost boundless popularity of the First 
 Consul. Deputations and addresses were immediately poured in upon him 
 from Paris and from all the departments of France, congratulating him upon
 
 342 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 his escape. It was at first thought that this conspiracy was the work of 
 the Jacobins. There were in Paris more than a hundred of the leaders of 
 this execrable party, who had obtained a sanguinary notoriety during the 
 Reign of Terror. They were active members of a Jacobin Club, a violent 
 and vulgar gathering, continually plotting the overthrow of the government 
 and :he assassination of the First Consul. They were thoroughly detested 
 by the people, and the community was glad to avail itself of any plausible 
 pretext for banishing them from France. Without sufficient evidence that 
 they were actually guilty of this particular outrage, in the strong excitement 
 and indignation of the moment a decree was passed by the legislative bodies 
 sending one hundred and sixty of these bloodstained culprits into exile. 
 
 The wish was earnestly expressed that Napoleon would promptly punish 
 them by his own dictatorial power. Napoleon had, in fact, acquired such 
 unbounded popularity, and the nation was so thoroughly impressed with a 
 sense of his justice and his wisdom, that whatever he said was done. He, 
 however, insisted that the business should be conducted by the constituted 
 tribunals, and under the regular forms of law. 
 
 " The responsibility of this measure," said Napoleon, " must rest with the 
 legislative body. The consuls are irresponsible, but the ministers are not 
 Any one of them who should sign an arbitrary decree might hereafter be 
 called to account. Not a single individual must be compromised. The con- 
 suls themselves know not what may happen. As for me, while I live, I am 
 not afraid that any one will dare to call me to account for my actions. But 
 I may be killed, and then I can not answer for the safety of my two col- 
 leagues. It would be your turn to govern," said he, smiling and turning tc 
 Cambaceres, " and you are not as yet very firm in the stirrups. It will be 
 better to have a law for the present as well as for the future." 
 
 It was finally, after much deliberation, decided that the Council of State 
 should draw up a declaration of the reasons for the act ; the First Consul was 
 to sign the decree, and the Senate was to declare whether it was or was not 
 constitutional. Thus cautiously did Napoleon proceed under circumstances 
 so exciting. The law, however, was unjust and tyrannical. Guilty as these 
 men were of other crimes, by which they had forfeited all sympathy, it sub- 
 sequently appeared that they were not guilty of this crime. Napoleon was 
 evidently embarrassed by this uncertainty of their guilt, and was not willing 
 that they should be denounced as contrivers of the infernal machine. "We 
 believe" said he, " that they are guilty, but we do not know it. They must 
 be transported for the crimes which they have committed, the massacres and 
 the conspiracies already proved against them." The decree was passed. 
 But Napoleon, strong in popularity, became so convinced of the powerless- 
 ness and insignificance of these Jacobins, that the decree was never enforced 
 against them. They remained in France, but they were conscious that the 
 eye of the police was upon them. 
 
 "It is not my own person," said Napoleon, "that I seek to avenge. My 
 fortune, which has so often preserved me on the field of battle, will continue 
 to preserve me. I think not of myself. I think of social order, which it is 
 my mission to re-establish, and of the national honor, which it is my duty to 
 purge from an abominable stain."
 
 1801.] HOHENLINDEN. 343 
 
 To the innumerable addresses of congratulation and attachment which this 
 occurrence elicited, Napoleon replied : " I have been touched by the proofs 
 of affection which the people of Paris have shown me on this occasion. I 
 deserve them, for the only aim of my thoughts and of my actions is to aug- 
 ment the prosperity and the glory of France. While those banditti confined 
 themselves to direct attacks upon me, I could leave to the laws the task of 
 punishing them ; but since they have endangered the population of the capi* 
 t al by a crime unexampled in history, the punishment must be equally speedy 
 and terrible." 
 
 It was soon proved, much to the surprise of Napoleon, that the atrocious 
 act was perpetrated by the partisans of the Bourbons. Many of the most 
 prominent of the Loyalists were implicated in this horrible conspiracy. Na- 
 poleon felt that he deserved their gratitude. He had interposed to save them 
 from the fury of the Jacobins. Against the remonstrances of his friends, he 
 had passed a decree which had restored one hundred and fifty thousand of 
 these wandering emigrants to France. He had done every thing in his pow- 
 er to enable them to regain their confiscated estates. He had been in all 
 respects their friend and benefactor, and he would not believe, until the 
 proof was indisputable, that they could thus requite him. The wily Fouche\ 
 however, dragged the whole matter into light. The prominent conspirators 
 were arrested and shot. The following letter, written by Josephine to the 
 Minister of Police, strikingly illustrates the benevolence of her heart, and 
 exhibits in a very honorable light the character of Napoleon. 
 
 " While I yet tremble at the frightful event which has just occurred, I am 
 distressed through fear of the punishment to be inflicted on the guilty, who 
 belong, it is said, to families with whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. 
 I shall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and disconsolate wives, and my heart 
 will be broken through my inability to obtain all the mercy for which I would 
 plead. I know that the clemency of the First Consul is great his attachment 
 to me extreme. The chief of the government has not been alone exposed ; 
 and it is that which will render him severe, inflexible. I conjure you, there- 
 fore, to do all in your power to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. Do 
 not detect all those persons who have been accomplices in this odious trans- 
 action. Let not France, co long overwhelmed in consternation by public 
 executions, groan anew beneath such inflictions. When the ringleaders of 
 this nefarious attempt shall have been secured, let severity give place to pity 
 for inferior agents, seduced, as they may have been, by dangerous falsehoods 
 or exaggerated opinions. As a woman, a wife, and a mother, I must feel the 
 heart-rendings of those who will apply to me. Act, Citizen Minister, in such 
 a way that the number of these may be lessened." 
 
 It seems almost miraculous that Napoleon should have escaped the in- 
 numerable conspiracies which at this time were formed against him. The 
 partisans of the Bourbons thought that if Napoleon could be removed, the 
 Bourbons might regain their throne. It was his resistless genius alone which 
 enabled France to triumph over combined Europe. His death would leave 
 France without a leader. The armies of the Allies could then, with bloody 
 strides, march to Paris, and place the hated Bourbons on the throne. Francs 
 knew this, and adored its preserver. Monarchical Europe knew this, and
 
 344 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 hence all the energies of its combined kings were centred upon Napoleon. 
 More than thirty of these conspiracies were detected by the police. 
 
 London was the hot-house where they were engendered. Air-guris were 
 aimed at Napoleon. Assassins dogged him with their poniards. A bomb- 
 shell was invented, weighing about fifteen pounds, which was to be thrown 
 in at his carriage-window, and which, exploding by its own concussion, would 
 hurl death on every side. The conspirators were reckless of the lives of 
 others, if they could only destroy the life of Napoleon. The agents of the 
 infernal machine had the barbarity to get a young girl, fifteen years of age, 
 to hold the horse who drew the machine. This was to disarm suspicion. 
 The poor child was blown into such fragments that no part of her body, 
 excepting her feet, could afterward be found. At last Napoleon became 
 aroused, and declared that he would " teach those Bourbons that he was 
 not a man to be shot at like a dog." 
 
 One day, at St. Helena, as he was putting on his flannel waistcoat, he ob- 
 served Las Casas looking at him very steadfastly. 
 
 "Well! what is your Excellency thinking of?" said Napoleon, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Sire," Las Casas replied, "in a pamphlet which I lately read, I fo- nd 
 it stated that your majesty was shielded by a coat-of-mail for the security 
 of your person. I was thinking that I could bear positive evidence that, at 
 St. Helena at least, all precautions for personal safety have been laid aside.'* 
 
 " This," said Napoleon, " is one of the thousand absurdities which have 
 been published respecting me. But the story you have just mentioned is the 
 more ridiculous, since every individual about me well knows how careless I 
 am with regard to self-preservation. Accustomed from the age of eighteen 
 to be exposed to the cannon-ball, and knowing the inutility of precautions, 
 I abandoned myself to my fate. When I came to the head of affairs, I might 
 still have fancied myself surrounded by the dangers of the field of battle, 
 and I might have regarded the conspiracies which were formed against me 
 as so many bomb-shells. But I followed my old course. I trusted to my 
 lucky star, and left all precautions to the police. I was, perhaps, the only 
 sovereign in Europe who dispensed with a body-guard. Every one could 
 freely approach me without having, as it were, to pass through military bar- 
 racks. 
 
 "Maria Louisa was much astonished to see me so poorly guarded, and she 
 often remarked that her father was surrounded by bayonets. For my part, 
 I had no better defense at the Tuileries than I have here. I do not even 
 know where to find my sword," said he, looking around the room ; " do you 
 see it ? I have, to be sure, incurred great dangers. Upward of thirty plots 
 were formed against me. These have been proved by authentic testimony, 
 without mentioning many which never came to light. Some sovereigns in- 
 vent conspiracies against themselves ; for my part, I made it a rule carefully 
 to conceal them whenever I could. The crisis most serious to me was dur- 
 ing the interval from the battle of Marengo to the attempt of (pfeorge Ca- 
 doudal and the affair of the Duke d'Enghien " 
 
 Napoleon now, with his accustomed vigor, took hold of the robbers, and 
 made short work with them. The insurgent armies of La Vendee, number-
 
 1801.] HOHENLINDEN. 345 
 
 ing more than one hundred thousand men, and filled with adventurers and 
 desperadoes of every kind, were disbanded when their chiefs yielded homage 
 to Napoleon. Many of these men, accustomed to banditti warfare, took to 
 the highways. The roads were so infested by them that traveling became 
 exceedingly perilous, and it was necessary that every stage-coach which left 
 Paris should be accompanied by a guard of armed soldiers. To remedy a 
 state of society thus convulsed to its very centre, special tribunals were or- 
 ganized, consisting of eight judges. They were to take cognizance of all 
 such crimes as conspiracies, robberies, and acts of violence of any kind. 
 
 The armed bands of Napoleon swept over France like a whirlwind. The 
 robbers were seized, tried, and shot without delay. Order was at once re- 
 stored. The people thought not of the dangerous power they were placing 
 in the hands of the First Consul ; they asked only for a commander who 
 was able and willing to quell the tumult of the times. Such a commander 
 they found in Napoleon. They were more than willing to confer upon him 
 all the power he could desire. " You know what is best for us," said the 
 people to Napoleon. " Direct us what to do, and we will do it." It was 
 thus that absolute power came voluntarily into his hands. Under the cir- 
 cumstances, it was so natural that it can excite no surprise He was called 
 First Consul ; but he already swayed a sceptre more mighty than that of 
 the Caesars. But sixteen months had now elapsed since Napoleon landed 
 at Frejus. In that time he had attained the throne of France. He had 
 caused order and prosperity to emerge from the chaos of revolution. By his 
 magnanimity he had disarmed Russia, by his armies had humbled Austria, 
 and had compelled Continental Europe to accept an honorable peace. He 
 merited the gratitude of his countrymen, and he received it in overflowing 
 measure. Through all these incidents, so eventful and so full of difficulty, 
 it is not easy to point to a single act of Napoleon's which indicates a mali- 
 cious or an ungenerous spirit. 
 
 " I fear nothing," said Napoleon at St. Helena, " for my renown. Poster- 
 ity will do me justice. It will compare the good which I have done with 
 the faults which I have committed. If I had succeeded, I should have died 
 with the reputation of being the greatest man who ever existed. From being 
 nothing, I became, by my own exertions, the most powerful monarch of the 
 universe, without committing any crime. My ambition was great, but it 
 rested on the opinion of the masses. I have always thought that sovereignty 
 resides in the people. The empire, as I had organized it, was but a great 
 republic. Called to the throne by the voice of the people, my maxim has 
 always been, a career open to talent without distinction of birth. It is for 
 this system of equality that the European oligarchy detests me. And yet," 
 in England, talent and great services raise a man to the highest rank. En- 
 gland should have understood me." 
 
 " The French Revolution," said Napoleon, " was a general movement of 
 the mass of the nation against the privileged classes. The nobles were ex- 
 empt from the burdens of the state, and yet exclusively occupied all the 
 posts of honor and emolument. The Revolution destroyed these exclusive 
 privileges, and established equality of rights. All the avenues to wealth and 
 greatness were equally open to every citizen, according to his talents. The
 
 346 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXI. 
 
 French nation established the imperial throne, and placed me upon it. The 
 throne of France was granted before to Hugh Capet, by a few bishops and 
 nobles. The imperial throne was given to me by the desire of the people." 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte was of very essential service to Napoleon in the diplo- 
 matic intercourse of the times. Lucien also was employed in various ways, 
 and the whole family were l^aken under the protection of the First Consul. 
 At St. Helena, Napoleon uttered the following graphic and truthful eulogium 
 upon his brothers and sisters : " What family, in similar circumstances, would 
 have acted better ? Every one is not qualified to be a statesman. That re- 
 quires a combination of powers which does not often fall to the lot of any 
 one. In this respect all my brothers were singularly situated ; they pos- 
 sessed at once too much and too little talent. They felt themselves too 
 strong to resign themselves blindly to a guiding counselor, and yet too weak 
 to be left entirely to themselves. But take them all in all, I have certainly 
 good reason to be proud of my family. Joseph would have been an honor 
 to society in any country, and Lucien would have been an honor to any 
 assembly. Jerome, as he advanced in life, would have developed every 
 qualification requisite in a sovereign. Louis would have been distinguished 
 in any rank or condition of life. My sister Eliza was endowed with mascu- 
 line powers of mind ; she must have proved herself a philosopher in her ad- 
 verse fortune. Caroline possessed great talents and capacity. Pauline, 
 perhaps the most beautiful woman of her age, has been, and will continue to 
 the end of her life, the most amiable creature in the world. As to my moth- 
 er, she deserves all kinds of veneration. How seldom is so numerous a fam- 
 ily entitled to so much praise. Add to this that, setting aside the jarring 
 of political opinions, we sincerely loved each other. For my part, I never 
 ceased to cherish fraternal affection for them all ; and I am convinced that 
 in their hearts they felt the same sentiments toward me, and that, in case of 
 need, they would have given me every proof of it." 
 
 The proud old nobility, whom Napoleon had restored to France, and upon 
 many of whom he had conferred their confiscated estates, manifested no 
 gratitude toward their benefactor. They were sighing for the re-enthrone- 
 ment of the Bourbons, and for the return of the good old times, when all the 
 offices of emolument and honor were reserved for them and for their children, 
 and the people were but their hewers of wood and drawers of water. In the 
 morning, as beggars, they would crowd the audience chamber of the First 
 Consul with their petitions. In the evening they disdained to honor his 
 levees with their presence. They spoke contemptuously of Josephine, of 
 her kindness, and her desire to conciliate all parties. They condemned ev- 
 ery thing that Napoleon did. He, however, paid no heed to their murmur- 
 ings. He would not condescend even to punish them by neglect. In that 
 most lofty pride which induced him to say that, in his administration, he 
 wished to imitate the clemency of God, he endeavored to consult for the in- 
 terests of all, both the evil and the unthankful. His fame was to consist, 
 not in revenging himself upon his enemies, but in aggrandizing France. 
 
 At this time Napoleon's establishment at the Tuileries rather resembled 
 that of a very rich gentleman than the court of a monarch. Junot, one of 
 his aids, was married to Mademoiselle Permon, the young lady whose name
 
 1801.] HOHENLINDEN. 347 
 
 will be remembered in connection with the anecdote of " Puss in Boots." 
 Her mother was one of the most haughty of the ancient nobility, who affect- 
 ed to look upon Napoleon with contempt, as not of royal blood. The even- 
 ing after her marriage, Madame Junot was to be presented to Josephine. 
 After the Opera she drove to the Tuileries. It was near eleven o'clock. 
 As Josephine had appointed the hour, she was expected. Eugene, hearing 
 the wheels of the carriage, descended to the court-yard, presented his arm 
 to Madame Junot, and they entered the large saloon together. It was a 
 magnificent apartment, magnificently furnished. Two chandeliers, sur- 
 rounded with gauze to soften the glare, shed a subdued and grateful light 
 over the room. Josephine was seated before a tapestry-frame working upon 
 embroidery. Near her sat Hortense, sylph-like in figure, and surpassingly 
 gentle and graceful in her manners. Napoleon was standing near Josephine, 
 with his hands clasped behind him, engaged in conversation with his wife 
 and her lovely daughter. Upon the entrance of Madame Junot, Josephine 
 immediately arose, took her two hands, and affectionately kissing her, said, 
 
 " I have too long been Junot's friend not to entertain the same sentiments 
 for his wife, particularly for the one he has chosen." 
 
 " Oh, Josephine !" said Napoleon, " that is running on very fast. How 
 do you know that this little pickle is worth loving ? Well, Mademoiselle 
 Loulou (you see that I do not forget the names of my old friends), have you 
 not a word for me ?" Saying this, he gently took her hand and drew her 
 toward him. 
 
 The young bride was much embarrassed, and yet she struggled to retain 
 her pride of birth. " General," she replied, smiling, " it is not for me to 
 speak first." 
 
 " Very well parried," said Napoleon, playfully : " the mother's spirit ! And 
 how is Madame Permon ?" 
 
 "Very ill, general. For two years her health has caused us great un- 
 easiness." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Napoleon ; " so bad as that ? I am sorry to hear it very 
 sorry. Make my regards to her. It is a wrong head, a proud spirit, but 
 she has a generous heart and a noble soul. I hope that we shall often see 
 you, Madame Junot. My intention is to draw around me a numerous fam- 
 ily, consisting of my generals and their young wives. They will be friends 
 of my wife and of Hortense, as their husbands are my friends. But you 
 must not expect to meet here your acquaintances of the ancient nobility. I 
 do not like them. They are my enemies, and prove it by defaming me." 
 
 This was but the morning twilight of that imperial splendor which after- 
 ward dazzled the most powerful potentates of Europe. Hortense, who sub- 
 sequently became the wife of Louis Bonaparte, and the mother of Louis Na- 
 poleon, who, at the moment of this present writing, is at the head of the gov- 
 ernment of France, was then seventeen years of age. " She was," says 
 Madame Junot, " fresh as a rose. Though her fair complexion was not re- 
 lieved by much color, she had enough to produce that freshness and bloom 
 which was her chief beauty. A profusion of li^ht hair played in silken locks 
 around her soft and penetrating blue eyes. The delicate roundness of her 
 figure, slender as a palm-tree, was set off by the elegant carriage of her
 
 348 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 head. But that which formed the chief attraction of Hortense was the grace 
 and suavity of her manners, which united the Creole nonchalance with the 
 vivacity of France. She was gay, gentle, and amiable. She had wit, which, 
 without the smallest ill temper, had just malice enough to be amusing. A 
 polished and well-conducted education had improved her natural talents. 
 She drew excellently, sang harmoniously, and performed admirably in com- 
 edy. In 1800 she was a charming young girl. She afterward became one 
 of the most amiable princesses in Europe. I have seen many, both in their 
 own courts and in Paris, but I have never known one who had any preten- 
 sions to equal talents. She was beloved by every one. Her brother loved 
 her tenderly. The First Consul looked upon her as his child." 
 
 Napoleon has been accused of an improper affection for Hortense. The 
 world has been filled with the slander. " Napoleon," says Bourrienne, 
 " never cherished for her any feeling but a real paternal tenderness. He 
 loved her, after his marriage with her mother, as he would have loved his 
 own child. At least for three years I was a witness to all their most private 
 actions, and I declare I never saw any thing that could furnish the least 
 ground for suspicion, nor the slightest trace of a culpable intimacy. This 
 calumny must be classed among those which malice delights to take in the 
 character of men who become celebrated, calumnies which are adopted 
 lightly and without reflection. Napoleon is no more. Let his memory be 
 accompanied only by that, be it good or bad, which really took place. Let 
 not this reproach be made a charge against him by the impartial historian. 
 I must say, in conclusion, on this delicate subject, that his principles were 
 rigid in an extreme degree, and that any fault of the nature charged neither 
 entered his mind, nor was in accordance with his morals or his taste." 
 
 At St. Helena Napoleon was one day looking over a book containing an 
 account of his amours. He smiled as he glanced his eye over the pages, 
 saying, " I do not even know the names of most of the females who are 
 mentioned here. This is all very foolish. Every body knows that I had no 
 time for such dissipation." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 
 
 Treaty with the United States Election of Pope The Queen of Naples Coronation of the King 
 and Queen of Etruria Madame de Montesson Right of Search Heroism of Nelson Death 
 of the Emperor Paul Succors for Egypt Condition of England Determination of Napoleon 
 Uneasiness in England The Sailor's Mistake Cornwallis Terms of Peace Napoleon's At- 
 tachment to Fox. 
 
 IT was the first great object of Napoleon, immediately upon his accession 
 to power, to reconcile France with Europe, and to make peace with all the 
 world. France was weary of war. She needed repose to recover from the 
 turmoil of revolution. Napoleon, conscious of the necessities of France, was 
 consecrating- all his energies for the promotion of peace. The Directory, by 
 oppressive acts, had excited the indignation of the United States. Napo. 
 leon, by a course of conciliation, immediately removed that hostility, and,
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 349 
 
 but a short time before the treaty of Luneville, ratified a treaty of amity be- 
 tween France and the United States. The signature of this treaty was cel- 
 ebrated with great rejoicings at the beautiful country seat which Joseph, 
 who, in consequence of his marriage, was richer than his brother, had pur- 
 chased at Morfontaine. Napoleon, accompanied by a brilliant party, met 
 the American commissioners there. The most elegant decorations within 
 the mansion and in the gardens represented France and America joined in 
 friendly union. 
 
 Napoleon presented the following toast : " The memory of the French and 
 the Americans who died on the field of battle for the independence of the 
 New World." 
 
 Lebrun, the Second Consul, proposed, " The union of America with the 
 Northern powers, to enforce respect for the liberty of the seas." 
 
 Cambaceres gave for the third toast, " The successor of Washington." 
 Thus did Napoleon endeavor to secure the friendship of the United States. 
 
 About this time Pope Pius VI. died, and the cardinals met to choose his 
 successor. The respect with which Napoleon had treated the Pope, and his 
 kindness to the emigrant priests during the first Italian campaign, presented 
 so strong a contrast with the violence enjoined by the Directory, as to pro- 
 duce a profound impression upon the minds of the Pope and the cardinals. 
 
 The Bishop of Imola was universally esteemed for his extensive learning, 
 his gentle virtues, and his firm probity. Upon the occasion of the union of 
 his diocese with the Cisalpine Republic, he preached a very celebrated ser- 
 mon, in which he spoke of the conduct of the French in terms highly gratify- 
 ing to the young conqueror. The power of Napoleon was now in the as- 
 cendant. It was deemed important to conciliate his favor. 
 
 " It is from France," said Cardinal Gonsalvi, "that persecutions have come 
 upon us for the last ten years. It is from France, perhaps, that we shall 
 derive aid and consolation for the future. A very extraordinary young man, 
 one very difficult as yet to judge, holds dominion there at the present day. 
 His influence will soon be paramount in Italy. Remember that he protect- 
 ed the priests in 1797. He has recently conferred funeral honors upon Pius 
 VI." These were words of deep foresight. They were appreciated by the 
 sagacious cardinals. To conciliate the favor of Napoleon, the Bishop of 
 Imola was elected to the pontifical chair as Pope Pius VII. 
 
 Naples had been most perfidious in its hostility to France. The Queen 
 of Naples was a proud daughter of Maria Theresa, and sister of the Empe- 
 ror of Austria and of the unfortunate Maria Antoinette. She surely must 
 not be too severely condemned for execrating a revolution which had con- 
 signed her sister to the dungeon and to the guillotine. Naples, deprived of 
 Austrian aid, was powerless. She trembled under apprehension of the ven- 
 geance of Napoleon. The King of Austria could no longer render his sister 
 any assistance. She adopted the decisive and romantic expedient of pro- 
 ceeding in person, notwithstanding the rigor of the approaching winter, to 
 St. Petersburg, to implore the intercession of the Emperor Paul. The eccen- 
 tric monarch, flattered by the supplication of the beautiful queen, immediate- 
 ly espoused her cause, and dispatched a messenger to Napoleon, soliciting 
 him, as a personal favor, to deal gently with Naples. 
 VOL. II. D
 
 350 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 The occurrence was, of course, a triumph and a gratification to Napoleon. 
 Most promptly and courteously he responded to the appeal. It was indeed 
 his constant study at this time to arrest the further progress of the Revolu- 
 tion, to establish the interests of France upon a basis of order and of law, and 
 to conciliate the surrounding monarchies by proving to them that he had no 
 disposition to revolutionize their realms. A word from him w r ould have 
 driven the King and Queen of Naples into exile, and would have converted 
 their kingdom into a republic. But Napoleon refused to utter that word, 
 and sustained the King of Naples upon his throne. 
 
 The Duke of Parma, brother of the King of Spain, had, through the in- 
 tercession of Napoleon, obtained the exchange of his duchy for the beautiful 
 province of Tuscany. The First Consul had also erected Tuscany into the 
 kingdom of Etruria, containing about one million of inhabitants. The old 
 duke, a bigoted prince inimical to all reform, had married his son, a feeble, 
 frivolous young man, to the daughter of his brother, the King of Spain. The 
 kingdom of Etruria was intended for this youthful pair. Napoleon, as yet 
 but thirty years of age, thus found himself forming kingdoms and creating 
 kings. The young couple were in haste to ascend the throne. They could 
 not, however, do this until the Duke of Parma should die or abdicate. The 
 unaccommodating old duke refused to do either. 
 
 Napoleon, desirous of producing a moral impression in Paris, was anxious 
 to crown them. He therefore allowed the old duke to retain Parma until 
 his death, that his son might be placed upon the throne of Etruria. He 
 wished to exhibit the spectacle, in the regicide metropolis of France, of a king 
 created and enthroned by France. Thus he hoped to dimmish the antipathy 
 to kings, and to prepare the way for that restoration of the monarchical 
 power which he contemplated. He would also thus conciliate monarchical 
 Europe, by proving that he. had no design of overthrowing every kingly 
 throne. It was, indeed, adroitly done. He required, therefore, the youthful 
 princes to come to Paris to accept the crown from his hands, as in ancient 
 Rome vassal monarchs received the sceptre from the Caesars. The young 
 candidates for monarchy left Madrid and repaired to the Tuileries, to be 
 placed upon the throne by the First Consul. This measure had two aspects, 
 each exceedingly striking. It frowned upon the hostility of the people to 
 royalty, and it silenced the clamor against France as seeking to spread de- 
 mocracy over the ruins of all thrones. It also proudly said, in tones which 
 must have been excessively annoying to the haughty legitimists of Europe, 
 " You kings must be childlike and humble. You see that I can create such 
 beings as you are." 
 
 Napoleon, conscious that his glory elevated him far above the ancient dy- 
 nasty whose station he occupied, was happy to receive the young princes 
 with pomp and splendor. The versatile Parisians, ever delighted with nov- 
 elty, forgot the twelve years of bloody revolutions which had overturned so 
 many thrones, and recognizing in this strange spectacle the fruits of their 
 victories and the triumph of their cause, shouted most enthusiastically, " Long 
 live the king !" The Royalists, on the other hand, chragrined and sullen, an- 
 swered passionately, " Down with kings !" Strange reverse ! yet how natural ! 
 Each party must have been surprised and bewildered at its own novel position.
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 351 
 
 In settling the etiquette of this visit, it was decided that the young princes 
 should call first upon Napoleon, and that he should return their call the next 
 day. The First Consul, at the head of his brilliant military staff, received the 
 young monarch with parental tenderness and with the most delicate attentions, 
 yet with the universally recognized superiorities of power and glory. The 
 princes were entertained at the magnificent chateau of Talleyrand at Neuilly 
 with brilliant festivals and illuminations. For a month the capital presented 
 a scene of gorgeous fetes. Napoleon, too entirely engrossed with the cares 
 of empire to devote much time to these amusements, assigned the entertain- 
 ment of his guests to his ministers. Nevertheless, he endeavored to give some 
 advice to the young couple about to reign over Etruria. He was much 
 struck with the weakness of the prince, who cherished no sense of responsi- 
 bility, and was entirely devoted to trivial pleasures. He was exceedingly 
 interested in the mysteries of cotillons, of leap-frog, and of hide-and-go-seek, 
 and was ever thus trifling with the courtiers. 
 
 Napoleon saw that he was perfectly incapable of governing, and said to 
 one of his ministers, " You perceive that they are princes descended from 
 an ancient line. How can the reins of government be intrusted to such 
 hands ? But it was well to show to France this specimen of the Bourbons. 
 She can judge if these ancient dynasties are equal to the difficulties of an 
 age like ours." As the young king left Paris for his dominions, Napoleon 
 remarked to a friend, " Rome need not be uneasy. There is no danger of 
 his crossing the Rubicon." Napoleon sent one of his generals to Etruria with 
 the royal pair, ostensibly as the minister of France, but in reality as the vice- 
 roy of the First Consul. The feeble monarch desired only the rank and 
 splendor of a king, and was glad to be released from the cares of empire. 
 Of all the proud acts performed by Napoleon during his extraordinary career, 
 this creation of the Etrurian king, when viewed in all its aspects, was, per- 
 haps, the proudest. 
 
 Madame de Montesson had become the guilty paramour of the Duke of 
 Orleans, grandfather of Louis Philippe. She was not at all ashamed of this 
 relation, which was sanctioned by the licentiousness of the times. Proud 
 even of this alliance with a prince of the blood, she fancied that it was her 
 privilege, as the only relative of the royal line then in Paris, to pay to the 
 King and Queen of Etruria such honors as they might be gratified in receiv- 
 ing from the remains of the old court society. She therefore made a brill- 
 iant party, inviting all the returned emigrants of illustrious birth. She even 
 had the boldness to invite the family of the First Consul and the distinguish- 
 ed persons of his suite. The invitation was concealed from Napoleon, as his 
 determination to frown upon all immorality was well known. The next 
 morning Napoleon heard of the occurrence, and severely reprimanded those 
 of his suite who had attended the party, dwelling with great warmth upon 
 the impropriety of countenancing vice in high places. Savary, who attended 
 the party and shared in the reprimand, says that Madame de Montesson 
 would have been severely punished had it not been for the intervention of 
 Josephine, who was ever ready to plead for mercy. 
 
 Napoleon, having made peace with Continental Europe, now turned his at- 
 tention earnestly to England, that he might compel that unrelenting antago-
 
 352 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 nist to lay down her arms. " France," said he, " will not reap all the bless- 
 ings of a pacification until she shall have a peace with England. But a sort 
 of delirium has seized on that government, which now holds nothing sacred. 
 Its conduct is unjust, not only toward the French people, but toward all the 
 other powers of the Continent ; and when governments are not just, their au- 
 thority is short-lived. All the Continental powers must force England to fall 
 back into the track of moderation, of equity, and of reason." 
 
 Notwithstanding this state of hostilities it is pleasant to witness the inter- 
 change of the courtesy of letters. Early in January of 1801, Napoleon sent 
 some very valuable works, magnificently bound, as a present to the Royal 
 Society of London. A complimentary letter accompanied the present, signed 
 BONAPARTE, President of the National Institute, and First Consul of France. 
 As a significant intimation of his principles, there was on the letter a finely 
 executed vignette representing Liberty sailing on the ocean in an open shell, 
 with the following motto : 
 
 " LIBERTY OF THE SEAS." 
 
 England claimed the right of visiting and searching merchant ships, to 
 whatever nation belonging, whatever the cargoes, wherever the destination. 
 For any resistance of this right, she enforced the penalty of the confiscation 
 of both ship and cargo. She asserted that nothing was necessary to consti- 
 tute a blockade but to announce the fact, and to station a vessel to cruise 
 before a blockaded port. Thus all the nations of the world were forbidden 
 by England to approach a port of France. The English government stren- 
 uously contended that these principles were in accordance with the estab- 
 lished regulations of maritime law. The neutral powers, on the other hand, 
 affirmed that these demands were a usurpation on the part of England, 
 founded on power, unsanctioned by the usages of nations, or by the princi- 
 ples of maritime jurisprudence. " Free ships," said they, " make free 
 goods. The flag covers the merchandise. A port is to be considered block- 
 aded only when such a force is stationed at its mouth as renders it dangerous 
 to enter." 
 
 Under these circumstances, it was not very difficult for Napoleon to turn 
 the arms of the united world against his most powerful foe. England had 
 allied all the powers of the world against France ; now Napoleon combined 
 them all in friendly alliance with him, and directed their energies against 
 his unyielding and unintimidated assailant. England was mistress of the 
 seas. Upon that element she was more powerful than all Europe united. 
 It was one great object of the British ministry to prevent any European 
 power from becoming the maritime rival of England. Napoleon, as he cast 
 his eye over his magnificent empire of forty millions of inhabitants, and sur- 
 veyed his invincible armies, was excessively annoyed that the fifteen millions 
 of people crowded into the little island of England should have undisputed 
 dominion over the whole wide world of waters. 
 
 The English have ever been respected above all other nations for wealth, 
 power, courage, intelligence, and all stern virtues, but they never have been 
 beloved. The English nation is at the present moment the most powerful, 
 the most respected, and the most unpopular upon the surface of the globe.
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 353 
 
 Providence deals in compensations. It is perhaps unreasonable to expect 
 that all the virtues should be centred in one people. " When," exclaimed 
 Napoleon, " will the French exchange their vanity for a little pride ?" It 
 may be rejoined, " When will the English lay aside their pride for a little 
 vanity that perhaps more ignoble, but certainly better-natured foible ?" 
 
 England, abandoned by all her allies, continued the war, apparently be- 
 cause her pride revolted at being conquered into a peace. And, in truth, 
 England had not been vanquished at all. Her fleets were every where tri- 
 umphant. The blows of Napoleon, which fell with such terrible severity 
 upon her allies, could not reach her floating batteries. The genius of Napo- 
 leon overshadowed the land. The genius of Pitt swept the seas. The com- 
 merce of France was entirely annihilated. The English navy, in the utter 
 destitution of nobler game, even pursued poor French fishermen, and took 
 away their haddock and their cod. The verdict of history will probably 
 pronounce that this was at least a less magnificent rapacity than to despoil 
 regal and ducal galleries of the statues of Phidias and the cartoons of Ra- 
 phael. 
 
 England declared France to be in a state of blockade, and forbade all the 
 rest of the world from having any commercial intercourse with her. Her 
 invincible fleet swept all seas. W T herever an English frigate encountered 
 any merchant ship, belonging to whatever nation, a shot was fired across her 
 bows as a very emphatic command to stop. If the command was unheeded, 
 a broadside followed, and the peaceful merchantman became lawful prize. 
 If the vessel stopped, a boat was launched from the frigate, a young lieuten- 
 ant ascended the sides of the merchantman, demanded of the captain the pa- 
 pers, and searched the ship. If he found on board any goods which he judged 
 to belong to France, he took them away. If he could find any goods which 
 he could consider as munitions of war, and which, in his judgment, the ship 
 was conveying to France, the merchantman, with all its contents, was con- 
 fiscated. Young lieutenants in the navy are not proverbial for wasting many 
 words in compliments. They were often overbearing and insolent. En- 
 gland contended that these were the established principles of maritime law. 
 
 All the nations of Europe, now at peace with France, excessively annoyed 
 at this right of search, which was rigorously enforced, declared it to be an 
 intolerable usurpation on the part of England. Russia, Prussia, Denmark, 
 Sweden, Holland, France, and Spain united in a great confederacy to resist 
 these demands of the proud monarch of the seas. The genius of Napoleon 
 formed this grand coalition. Paul of Russia, now a most enthusiastic admi- 
 rer of the First Consul, entered into it with all his soul. England soon 
 found herself single-handed against the world in arms. With sublime ener- 
 gy, the British ministry collected their strength for the conflict. Murmurs, 
 however, and remonstrances, loud and deep, pervaded all England. The op- 
 position roused itself to new vigor. The government, in the prosecution of 
 this war, had already involved the nation in a debt of millions upon millions. 
 But the pride of the English government was aroused. "What! make 
 peace upon compulsion !" England was conscious of her maritime power, 
 and feared not the hostility of the world, and the world presented a wide fie^d 
 from which to collect remuneration for her losses.
 
 354 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 She swept the ocean triumphantly. The colonies of the Allies dropped 
 into her hands like fruit from the overladen bough. Immediately upon the 
 formation of this confederacy, England issued an embargo upon every vessel 
 belonging to the allied powers, and also orders were issued for the immediate 
 capture of any merchant vessels belonging to these powers, wherever they 
 could be found. The ocean instantly swarmed with English privateersmen. 
 Her navy was active every where. There had been no proclamation of war 
 issued. The merchants of Europe were entirely unsuspicious of any such 
 calamity. Their ships were all exposed. By thousands they were swept 
 into the ports of England. More than half of the ships belonging to the 
 northern powers then at sea were captured. 
 
 Russia, Denmark, and Sweden had a large armament in the Baltic. A 
 powerful English fleet was sent for its destruction. The terrible energies 
 of Nelson, so resplendent at Aboukir, were still more resplendent at Copen- 
 hagen. A terrific conflict ensued. The capital of Denmark was filled with 
 weeping and woe, for thousands of her noble sons, the young and the joy- 
 ous, were weltering in blood. " I have been," said Nelson, " in above a 
 hundred engagements, but that of Copenhagen was the most terrible of them 
 all." 
 
 In the midst of this terrific cannonade, Nelson was rapidly walking the 
 quarter-deck, which was slippery with blood and covered with the dead, who 
 could not be removed as fast as they fell. A heavy shot struck the main- 
 mast, scattering the splinters in every direction. He looked upon the dev- 
 astation around him, and, sternly smiling, said, "This is warm work, and 
 this day may be the last to any of us in a moment. But mark me, I would 
 not be elsewhere for thousands." This was heroic, but it was not noble. 
 It was the love of war, not the love of humanity. It was the spirit of an 
 Indian chieftain, not the spirit of a Christian Washington. 
 
 The commander-in-chief of the squadron, seeing the appalling carnage, 
 hung out the signal for discontinuing the action. Nelson was for a moment 
 deeply agitated, and then exclaimed to a companion, " I have but one eye. 
 I have a right to be blind sometimes." Then, putting the glass to his blind 
 eye, he said, "I really don't see the signal. Keep mine for closer battle 
 still fl} ng. That is the way I answer such signals. Nail mine to the 
 mast." The human mind is so constituted that it must admire heroism. 
 That sentiment is implanted in every generous breast for some good pur- 
 pose. Welmoes, a gallant young Dane, but seventeen years of age, station- 
 ed himself on a small raft, carrying six guns with twenty-four men, directly 
 under the bows of Nelson's ship. The unprotected raft was swept by an in- 
 cessant storm of bullets from the English marines. Knee deep in the dead, 
 this fearless stripling continued to keep up his fire to the close of the con- 
 flict. Next day, Nelson met him at a repast at the palace. Admiring the 
 gallantry of his youthful enemy, he embraced him with enthusiasm, ex- 
 claiming to the Crown Prince, " He deserves to be made an admiral." 
 " Were I to make all my brave officers admirals," replied the prince, " I 
 should have no captains or lieutenants in my service." 
 
 By this battle the power of the confederacy was broken. At the same 
 time, the Emperor Paul was assassinated in his palace by his nobles, and
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 355 
 
 Alexander, his son, ascended the throne. When Napoleon heard of the death 
 of Paul, it is said that he gave utterance, for the first time in his life, to that 
 irreverent expression, " Mon Dieu" (My God), which is ever upon the lips of 
 every Frenchman. He regarded his death as a great calamity to France 
 and to the world. The eccentricities of the Emperor amounted almost to 
 madness. But his enthusiastic admiration for Napoleon united France and 
 Russia in a close alliance. 
 
 The nobles of Russia were much displeased with the democratic equality 
 which Napoleon was sustaining in France. They plotted the destruction of 
 the king, and raised Alexander to the throne, pledged to a different policy. 
 The young monarch immediately withdrew from the maritime confederacy, 
 and entered into a treaty of peace with England. These events, apparently 
 so disastrous to the interests of France, were, on the contrary, highly con- 
 ducive to the termination of the war. The English people, weary of the in- 
 terminable strife, and disgusted with the oceans of blood which had been 
 shed, more and more clamorously demanded peace. And England could 
 now make peace without the mortification of her pride. 
 
 Napoleon was extremely vigilant in sending succor to the army in Egypt. 
 He deemed it essential, in order to promote the maritime greatness of France, 
 that Egypt should be retained as a colony. His pride was also enlisted in 
 proving to the world that he had not transported forty-six thousand soldiers 
 to Egypt in vain. Vessels of every description, ships of war, merchantmen, 
 dispatch-boats, sailed almost daily from the various ports of Holland, France, 
 Spain, Italy, and even from the coast of Barbary, laden with provisions, Eu- 
 ropean goods, wines, munitions of war, and each taking a file of French 
 newspapers. Many of these vessels were captured. Others, however, escaped 
 the vigilance of the cruisers, and gave to the colony most gratifying proof of 
 the interest which the First Consul took in its welfare. While Napoleon 
 was thus daily endeavoring to send partial relief to the army in Egypt, he 
 was, at the same time, preparing a vast expedition to convey thither a power- 
 ful re-enforcement of troops and materials of war. 
 
 Napoleon assembled this squadron at Brest, ostensibly destined for St. 
 Domingo. He selected seven of the fastest sailing ships, placed on board 
 of them five thousand men, and an ample supply of those stores most needed 
 in Egypt. He ordered that each vessel should contain a complete assort- 
 ment of every individual article prepared for the colony, so that in the event 
 of one vessel being captured, the colony would not be destitute of the pre- 
 cise article which that vessel might otherwise have contained. He also in 
 several other places, formed similar expeditions, hoping thus to distract the 
 attention of England, and compel her to divide her forces to guard all ex- 
 posed points. Taking advantage of this confusion, he was almost certain 
 that some of the vessels would reach Egypt. The plan would have been 
 triumphantly successful, as subsequent events proved, had the naval com- 
 manders obeyed the instructions of Napoleon. 
 
 A curious instance now occurred of what may be called the despotism of 
 the First Consul. And yet it is not strange that the French people should, 
 under the peculiar circumstances, have respected and loved such despotism. 
 The following order was issued to the Minister of Police : " Citizen Minis-
 
 356 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIL 
 
 ter, Have the goodness to address a short circular to the editors of the four- 
 teen journals, forbidding the insertion of any article calculated to afford the 
 enemy the slightest clew to the different movements which are taking 
 place in our squadrons, unless the intelligence be derived from the official 
 journal." Napoleon had previously, through the regularly constituted tri- 
 bunals, suppressed all the journals in Paris but fourteen. The world has 
 often wondered how France so readily yielded to the despotism of Napoleon. 
 It was because the French were convinced that dictatorial power was essen- 
 tial to the successful prosecution of the war, and that each act of Napoleon 
 was dictated by the most wise and sincere patriotism. They were willing 
 to sacrifice the liberty of the press, that they might obtain victory over their 
 enemies. 
 
 The condition of England was now truly alarming. Nearly all the civil, 
 ized world was in arms against her. Her harvests had been cut off, and a 
 frightful famine ravaged the land. The starving people were rising in dif- 
 ferent parts of the kingdom, pillaging the magnificent country seats of the 
 English aristocracy, and sweeping in riotous mobs through the cities. The 
 masses in England and in Ireland, wretchedly perishing of hunger, clamored 
 loudly against Pitt. They alleged that he was the cause of all their calami- 
 ties that he had burdened the nation with an enormous debt and with in- 
 supportable taxes that by refusing peace with France he had drawn all the 
 Continental powers into hostility with England, and thus had deprived the 
 people of that food from the Continent which was now indispensable for the 
 support of life. The opposition, seeing the power of Pitt shaken, redoubled 
 their blows. Fox, Tiernay, Grey, Sheridan, and Holland renewed their at- 
 tacks with all the ardor of anticipated success. 
 
 "Why," said they, " did you not make peace with France when the First 
 Consul proposed it before the battle of Marengo ? Why did you not con- 
 sent to peace when it was proposed after that battle ? Why did you refuse 
 consent to separate negotiation, when Napoleon was willing to enter into 
 such, without demanding the cessation of hostilities by sea?" They con- 
 trasted the distress of England with the prosperity of France. " France," 
 said they, " admirably governed, is at peace with Europe. In the eyes of 
 the world she appears humane, wise, tranquil, evincing the most exemplary 
 moderation after all her victories." With bitter irony they exclaimed, " What 
 have you now to say of this young Bonaparte, of this rash youth, who, ac- 
 cording to the ministerial language, was only doomed to enjoy a brief exist- 
 ence like his predecessors, so ephemeral that it did not entitle him to be 
 treated with ?" 
 
 Pitt was disconcerted by the number of his enemies and by the clamors 
 of a famishing people. His proud spirit revolted at the idea of changing his 
 course. He could only reiterate his argument, that if he had not made war 
 against revolutionary France, England would also have been revolutionized. 
 There is an aspect of moral sublimity in the firmness with which this distin- 
 guished minister breasted a world in arms. "As to the demand of the neu- 
 tral powers," said he, "we must envelop ourselves in our flag, and proudly 
 find our grave in the deep, rather than admit the validity of such principles 
 in the maritime code of nations."
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 357 
 
 Though Pitt still retained his numerical majority in the Parliament, the 
 masses of the people were turning with great power against him, and he felt 
 that his position was materially weakened. Under these circumstances, 
 Pitt, idolized by the aristocracy, execrated by the democracy, took occasion 
 to send in his resignation. The impression seemed to be universal, that the 
 distinguished minister, perceiving that peace must be made with France, 
 temporarily retired, that it might be brought about by others rather than by 
 himself. He caused himself, however, to be succeeded by Mr. Addington, a 
 man of no distinguished note, but entirely under his influence. The feeble 
 intellect of the King of England, though he was one of the most worthy and 
 conscientious of men, was unequal to these political storms. A renewed at- 
 tack of insanity incapacitated him for the functions of royalty. Mr. Pitt, 
 who had been prime minister for seventeen years, became, by this event, 
 virtually the king of England, and Mr. Addington was his minister. 
 
 Napoleon now announced to the world his determination to struggle hand 
 to hand with England until he had compelled the government to cease to 
 make war against France. Conscious of the naval superiority of his foes, 
 he avowed his resolve to cross the Channel with a powerful army, march 
 directly upon London, and thus compel the cabinet of St. James to make 
 peace. It was a desperate enterprise ; so desperate that, to the present day, 
 it is doubted whether Napoleon ever seriously contemplated carrying it into 
 effect. It was, however, the only measure Napoleon could now adopt. The 
 naval superiority of England was so undeniable, that a maritime war was 
 hopeless. Nelson, in command of the fleet of the Channel, would not allow 
 even a fishing-boat to creep out from a French cove. Napoleon was very 
 desirous of securing in his favor the popular opinion of the people of En- 
 gland, and the sympathies of the whole European public. 
 
 He prepared with his own hand many articles for the " Moniteur," which 
 were models of eloquent and urgent polemics, and which elicited admiration 
 from readers in all countries. He wrote in the most respectful and compli- 
 mentary terms of the new English ministry, representing them as intelligent, 
 upright, and well-intentioned men. He endeavored to assure Europe of the 
 unambitious desires of France, and contrasted her readiness to relinquish 
 the conquests which she had made with the eager grasp with which the En- 
 glish held their enormous acquisitions in India and in the islands of the sea. 
 With the utmost delicacy, to avoid offending the pride of Britain, he affirm- 
 ed that a descent upon England would be his last resource ; that he fully ap- 
 preciated the bravery and the power of the English, and the desperate risks 
 which he should encounter in such an undertaking ; but he declared that 
 there was no other alternative left to him, and that, if the English ministers 
 were resolved that the war should not be brought to a close but by the de- 
 struction of one of the two nations, there was not a Frenchman who would 
 not make the most desperate efforts to terminate this cruel quarrel to the 
 glory of France. 
 
 " But why," exclaimed he, in words singularly glowing and beautiful, but 
 of melancholy import, " why place the question on this last resort ? Where- 
 fore not put an end to the sufferings of humanity ? Wherefore risk in this 
 manner the lot of two great nations ? Happy are nations when, having ar-
 
 358 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 rived at high prosperity, they have wise governments, which care not to ex- 
 pose advantages so vast to the caprices and vicissitudes of a single stroke 
 of fortune." 
 
 These most impressive papers, from the pen of the First Consul, remark- 
 able for their vigorous logic and impassioned eloquence, produced a deep 
 impression upon all minds. This conciliatory language was accompanied by 
 the most serious demonstrations of force upon the shores of the Channel. 
 One hundred thousand men were upon the coasts of France, in the vicinity 
 of Boulogne, preparing for the threatened invasion. Boats without number 
 were collected to transport the troops across the narrow channel. It was 
 asserted that, by taking advantage of a propitious moment immediately after 
 a storm had scattered the English fleet, France could concentrate such a 
 force as to obtain a temporary command of the Channel, and the strait could 
 be crossed by the invaders. England was aroused thoroughly, but not 
 alarmed. The militia was disciplined, the whole island converted into a 
 camp. Wagons were constructed for the transportation of troops to any 
 threatened point. It is important that the reader should distinguish this first 
 threat of invasion in 1801 from that far more powerful naval and military 
 organization executed for the same purpose in 1804, and known under the 
 name of the Camp of Boulogne. 
 
 Not a little uneasiness was felt in England respecting the temporary suc- 
 cess of the great conqueror. Famine raged throughout the island. Business 
 was at a stand. The taxes were enormous. Ireland was on the eve of re- 
 volt. The mass of the English people admired the character of Napoleon ; 
 and, notwithstanding all the efforts of the government, regarded him as the 
 foe of aristocracy and the friend of popular rights. Nelson, with an invinci- 
 ble armament, was triumphantly sweeping the Channel, and a French gun- 
 boat could not creep round a headland without encountering the vigilance 
 of the energetic hero. Napoleon, in escaping from Egypt, had caught Nel- 
 son napping in a lady's lap. The greatest admirers of the naval hero could 
 not but smile, half-pleased that, under the guilty circumstances, he had met 
 with the misadventure. He was anxious, by a stroke of romantic heroism, 
 to obliterate this impression from the public mind. The vast flotilla of 
 France, most thoroughly manned and armed under the eye of Napoleon, was 
 anchored at Boulogne, in three divisions, in a line parallel to the shore. 
 Just before the break of day on the 4th of August, the fleet of Nelson, in 
 magnificent array, approached the French flotilla, and for sixteen hours rain- 
 ed down upon it a tornado of balls and shells. The gun-boats were, how- 
 ever, chained to one another and to the shore. He did not succeed in tak- 
 ing a single boat, and retired mortified at his discomfiture, and threatening 
 to return in a few days to take revenge. The French were exceedingly 
 elated that in a naval conflict they had avoided defeat. As they stood there 
 merely upon self-defense, victory was out of the question. 
 
 The reappearance of Nelson was consequently daily expected, and the 
 French, emboldened by success, prepared to give him a warm reception. 
 Twelve clays after, on the 16th of August, Nelson again appeared with a 
 vastly increased force. In the darkness of the night, he filled his boats with 
 picked men, to undertake one of the most desperate enterprises on record
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 359 
 
 In four divisions, with muffled oars, this forlorn hope, in the silence of mid- 
 night, approached the French flotilla. The butchery, with swords, hatchets, 
 bayonets, bullets, and hand grenades, was hideous. Both parties fought with 
 perfect fury. No man seemed to have the slightest regard for limb or life. 
 England was fighting for she knew not what. The French were contend, 
 ing in self-defense. For four long hours of midnight gloom the slaughter 
 continued. Thousands perished. Just as the day was dawning upon the 
 horrid scene, the English retired, repulsed at every point, and confessing to 
 a defeat. The result of these conflicts diminished the confidence of the 
 English in Nelson's ability to destroy the preparations of Napoleon, and in- 
 creased their apprehension that the French might be enabled, by some 
 chance, to carry the war of invasion to their own firesides. 
 
 "I was resolved," said Napoleon afterward, "to renew at Cherbourg the 
 wonders of Egypt. I had already raised in the sea my pyramid. I would 
 also have had my Lake Mareotis. My great object was to concentrate all 
 our maritime forces, and in time they would have been immense, in order to 
 be able to deal out a grand stroke at the enemy. I was establishing my 
 ground so as to bring the two nations, as it were, body to body. The ulti- 
 mate issue could not be doubtful, for we had forty millions of French 
 against fifteen millions of English. I would have terminated the strife by a 
 battle of Actium." 
 
 One after another of the obstacles in the way of peace now gradually gave 
 way. Overtures were made to Napoleon. He accepted the advances of 
 England with the greatest eagerness and cordiality. " Peace," said he, " is 
 easily brought about, if England desires it." 
 
 " Pitt," says Mr. Ingersoll, " was at war with republicanism when the 
 consular republican government of France had staunched all the wounds of 
 that country, restored the finances, organized public instruction, recalled 
 nearly all the Royalists, reinstated religion, begun vast plans for territorial 
 improvements, and for ameliorating the laws by a new civil code. In every 
 thing, except foreign commerce and manufactures, the French Republic was 
 then more flourishing, progressive, and content than the kingdom of Great 
 Britain. It was hard, if not impossible, where the press and all public dis- 
 cussion is so free and manly as in England, for any ministry to make head 
 against such undeniable reasons for peace with a rival nation." 
 
 On the evening of the 21st of October the preliminaries were signed in 
 London. That very night a courier left England to convey the joyful intel- 
 ligence to France. He arrived at Malmaison, the rural retreat of Napoleon, 
 at four o'clock in the afternoon of the next day. At that moment the three 
 consuls were holding a government council. The excitement of joy in 
 opening the dispatches was intense. The consuls ceased from their labors, 
 and threw themselves into each other's arms in cordial embraces. 
 
 Napoleon, laying aside all reserve, gave full utterance to the intense joy 
 which filled his bosom. It w r as for him a proud accomplishment. In two 
 years, by his genius and his indefatigable exertions, he had restored internal 
 order to France and peace to the world. Still, even in this moment of tri- 
 umph, his entire, never wavering devotion to the welfare of France, like a 
 ruling passion strong even in death, rose above his exultation,
 
 360 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 "Now that we have made a treaty of peace with England," said Camba- 
 ceres, " we must make a treaty of commerce, and remove all subjects of dis- 
 pute between the two countries." 
 
 Napoleon promptly replied, " Not so fast ! The political peace is made. 
 So much the better. Let us enjoy it. As to a commercial peace, we will 
 make one, if we can. But at no price will I sacrifice French industry. I 
 remember the misery of 1786." 
 
 The news had been kept secret in London for twenty-four hours, that the 
 joyful intelligence might be communicated in both capitals at the same time. 
 The popular enthusiasm both in England and France bordered almost upon 
 delirium. It was the repose of the Continent. It was general, universal 
 peace. It was opening the world to the commerce of all nations. War 
 spreads over continents the gloom of the world of woe, while peace il- 
 lumines them with the radiance of Heaven. Illuminations blazed every 
 where. Men, the most phlegmatic, met and embraced each other with tears. 
 The people of England surrendered themselves to the extraordinary trans- 
 ports. They loved the French. They adored the hero, the sage, the great 
 pacificator who governed France. The streets of London resounded with 
 shouts, " Long live Bonaparte !" Every stage-coach which ran from Lon- 
 don bore triumphant banners, upon which were inscribed, Peace with France. 
 
 The populace of London rushed to the house of the French negotiator. 
 He had just entered his carriage to visit Lord Hawkesbury, to exchange 
 ratifications. The tumultuous throng of happy men unharnessed his horses 
 and dragged him in triumph, in the delirium of their joy rending the skies 
 with their shouts. The crowd and the rapturous confusion at last became 
 so great, that Lord Vincent, fearing some accident, placed himself at the head 
 of the amiable mob, as it triumphantly escorted and conveyed the carriage 
 from minister to minister. 
 
 A curious circumstance occurred at the festival in London, highly charac- 
 teristic of the honest bluntness, resolution, and good nature of the English 
 seamen. The house of M. Otto, the French minister, was brilliantly illumi- 
 nated. Attracted by its surpassing splendor, a vast crowd of sailors had 
 gathered around. The word concord blazed forth most brilliantly in letters 
 of light. The sailors, not very familiar with the spelling-book, exclaimed, 
 " Conquered ! not so, by a great deal. That will not do." Excitement and 
 dissatisfaction rapidly spread. Violence was threatened.- M. Otto came 
 forward himself most blandly, but his attempts at explanation were utterly 
 fruitless. The offensive word was removed, and amity substituted. The 
 sailors, fully satisfied with the amende honorable, gave three cheers and went 
 on their way rejoicing. 
 
 In France the exultation was, if possible, still greater than in England. 
 The admiration of Napoleon, and the confidence in his wisdom and patriot- 
 ism were unbounded. No power was withheld from the First Consul which 
 he was willing to assume. The nation placed itself at his feet. All over 
 the Continent Napoleon received the honorable title of "The Hero Pacifica- 
 tor of Europe ." And yet there was a strong under-current to this joy. Na- 
 poleon was the favorite, not of the nobles, but of the people. Even his acts 
 of despotic authority were most cordially sustained by the people of France,
 
 1801.] PEACE WITH ENGLAND. 301 
 
 for they believed that such acts were essential for the promotion of their 
 welfare. " The ancient privileged classes and the foreign cabinets," said 
 Napoleon, " hate me worse than they did Robespierre." The hosannas with 
 which the name of Bonaparte was resounding through the cities and the vil- 
 lages of England fell gloomily upon the ears of Mr. Pitt and his friends. 
 The freedom of the seas was opening to the energetic genius of Napoleon 
 an unobstructed field for the maritime aggrandizement of France. The 
 British minister knew that the sleepless energies of Napoleon would, as with 
 a magician's wand, call fleets into existence to explore all seas. Sorrowfully 
 he contemplated a peace to which the popular voice had compelled him to 
 yield, and which, in his judgment, boded no good to the naval superiority of 
 England. 
 
 It was agreed that the plenipotentiaries, to settle the treaty definitively, 
 should meet at Amiens, an intermediate point midway between London and 
 Paris. The English appointed as their minister Lord Cornwallis. The 
 Americans, remembering this distinguished general at Brandywine, Camden, 
 and at the surrender of Yorktown, have been in the habit of regarding him 
 as an enemy. But he was a gallant soldier, and one jf the most humane, 
 high-minded, and estimable of men. Frankly he avowed his conviction that 
 the time had arrived for terminating the miseries of the world by peace. Na- 
 poleon has paid a noble tribute to the integrity, urbanity, sagacity, and un- 
 blemished honor of Lord Cornwallis. Joseph Bonaparte was appointed by 
 the First Consul embassador on the part of France. The suavity of his 
 manners, the gentleness of his disposition, his enlightened and liberal polit- 
 ical views, and the Christian morality which, in those days of general cor- 
 ruption, embellished his conduct, peculiarly adapted him to fulfill the duties 
 of a peace-maker. 
 
 Among the terms of the treaty, it was agreed that France should abandon 
 her colony in Egypt, as endangering the English possessions in India. In 
 fact, the French soldiers had already, by capitulation, agreed to leave Egypt, 
 but the tidings of surrender had not then reached England or France. The 
 most important question in these deliberations was the possession of the 
 island of Malta. The power in possession of that impregnable fortress 
 would have command of the Mediterranean. Napoleon insisted upon it, as 
 a point important above all others, that England should not retain Malta. 
 As England was already in possession of Gibraltar, the reasonableness of 
 this requisition was beyond all dispute. Napoleon might very fairly have 
 demanded Malta for France, as a balance for Gibraltar. But his desire for 
 peace was so strong, and his moderation so singular, that he was willing to 
 leave England in possession of Gibraltar, and yet relinquish all claim upon 
 Malta for France. But all-grasping England demanded both. Here Napo- 
 leon was firm. He insisted that Malta should be placed in the hands of 
 some neutral power ; but he declared his unalterable determination that he 
 could, by no possibility, consent that it should remain in the hands of En- 
 gland. 
 
 At last England yielded, and agreed to evacuate Malta, and that it should 
 be surrendered to the Knights of St. John. In reference to this all-important 
 surrender, the terms were very explicit. It was stated that the forces of his
 
 362 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXII. 
 
 Britannic majesty shall evacuate the island and its dependencies within three 
 months after the exchange of the ratifications. By these honorable and per- 
 severing efforts, Napoleon had at last succeeded in granting repose to blood- 
 deluged Europe.* 
 
 " Peace having been concluded," says Bourrienne, " on terms which were 
 highly honorable to the national character, all parties hoped that the san- 
 guinary wars in which the country had been engaged would now have term- 
 inated, and that France would be left at liberty to adopt those institutions 
 which would be agreeable to herself. But the brilliant position in which the 
 peace of Amiens had left France seemed to excite the jealousy of her neigh- 
 bors, and to produce those feelings which are opposed to the repose of na- 
 tions. In fact, we shall see that war broke out afresh with unusual ani- 
 mosity, and that from very trifling causes. At this period the consular 
 glory was unsullied, and held in prospect the most flattering hopes ; and it 
 can not be doubted but that the First Consul was really desirous to promote 
 peace and to give repose to France." 
 
 At St. Helena Napoleon remarked to Las Casas, " Lord Cornwallis is the 
 first Englishman who gave me, in good earnest, a favorable opinion of his 
 nation ; after him Fox, and I might add to these, if it were necessary, our 
 present admiral, Malcolm. Cornwallis was, in every sense of the word, a 
 worthy, good, and honest man. At the time of the treaty of Amiens, the 
 terms having been agreed upon, he had promised to sign the next day at a 
 certain hour. Something of consequence detained him at home, but he had 
 pledged his word. The evening of that same day a courier arrived from 
 London proscribing certain articles of the treaty, but he answered that he 
 had signed, and immediately came and actually signed. We understood each 
 other perfectly well. I had placed a regiment at his disposal, and he took 
 pleasure in seeing its maneuvers. I have preserved an agreeable recollec- 
 tion of him in every respect ; and it is certain that a request from him would 
 have had more weight with me, perhaps, than one from a crowned head. 
 His family appears to have guessed this to be the case. Some requests have 
 been made to me in its name, which have all been granted. 
 
 " Fox came to France immediately after the peace of Amiens. He was 
 employed in writing a history of the Stuarts, and asked my permission to 
 search our diplomatical archives. I gave orders that every thing should be 
 placed at his disposal. I received him often. Fame had informed me of 
 his talents, and I soon found that he possessed a noble character, a good 
 heart, liberal, generous, and enlightened views. I considered him an orna- 
 ment to mankind, and was very much attached to him. Half a dozen such 
 men as Fox and Cornwallis would be sufficient to establish the moral char- 
 acter of a nation. With such men I should always have agreed. We should 
 soon have settled our differences, and not only France would have been at 
 peace with a nation at bottom most worthy of esteem, but we should have 
 done great things together." 
 
 * Napoleon was highly gratified by the honorable course pursued by Lord Cornwallis in these 
 negotiations.
 
 1801.} NATIONAL REFORMS. 353 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 NATIONAL REFORMS. 
 
 General Exultation Lord Cornwallis Mr. Fox Deputies from Switzerland Intellectual Su- 
 premacy of Napoleon Address to the Swiss Deputies The English in Paris Dissatisfaction 
 of the English Aristocracy Joy of the People Napoleon's Defense of Christianity Testimony 
 of the Encyclopaedia Americana and of Mr. Fox The Tones of the Church Bell The New 
 Pope Religious Library of Napoleon Re-establishment of Christianity Noble Proclamation 
 Religious Fete Triumphal Monument proposed Testimony of Lady Morgan Moral Reforms 
 Testimony of Ingersoll. 
 
 THIS pacification, so renowned in history both for its establishment and 
 for its sudden and disastrous rupture, has ever been known by the name of 
 the Peace of Amiens. Napoleon determined to celebrate the joyful event 
 by a magnificent festival. The 10th of November, 1801, was the appointed 
 day. It was the anniversary of Napoleon's attainment of the consular pow- 
 er. Friendly relations having been thus restored between the two countries 
 after so many years of hostility and carnage, thousands of the English flocked 
 across the Channel and thronged the pavements of Paris. All were impa- 
 tient to see France thus suddenly emerging from such gloom into such un- 
 paralleled brilliancy, and especially to see the man who, at that moment, 
 was the admiration of England and of the world. 
 
 The joy which pervaded all classes invested this festival with sublimity. 
 With a delicacy of courtesy characteristic of the First Consul, no carriages 
 but those of Lord Cornwallis were allowed in the streets on that day. The 
 crowd of Parisians, with most cordial and tumultuous acclamations, opened 
 before the representative of the armies of England. The illustrious Fox was 
 one of the visitors on this occasion. He was received by Napoleon with the 
 utmost consideration and with the most delicate attentions. In passing 
 through the gallery of sculpture, his lady pointed his attention to his own 
 statue, filling a niche by the side of Washington and Brutus. Every one who 
 came into direct personal contact with the First Consul at this time was 
 charmed with his character. 
 
 Nine deputies from Switzerland, the most able men the republic could 
 furnish, were appointed to meet Napoleon respecting the political arrange- 
 ments of the Swiss cantons. Punctual to the hour, the First Consul entered 
 a neat, spacious room, where there was a long table covered with green 
 baize. Dr. Jones, of Bristol, the intimate friend of several of these depu- 
 ties, and who was with them in Paris at the time, thus describes the inter- 
 view : 
 
 " The First Consul entered, followed by two of his ministers, and after the 
 necessary salutation, sat down at the head of the table, his ministers on each 
 side of him. The deputies then took their seats. He spread out before them 
 a large map, as necessary to the subject of their deliberations. He then re- 
 quested that they would state freely any objection which might occur to them
 
 364 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIII 
 
 in the plan which he should propose. They availed themselves of the liberty, 
 and suggested several alterations which they deemed advantageous to France 
 and Switzerland. But from the prompt, clear, and unanswerable reasons 
 which Napoleon gave in reply to all their objections, he completely convinced 
 them of the wisdom of his plans. After an animated discussion of ten hours, 
 they candidly admitted that he was better acquainted with the local circum- 
 stances of the Swiss cantons, and with what would secure their welfare, than 
 they were themselves. During the whole discussion his ministers did not 
 speak one word. The deputies afterward declared that it was their decided 
 opinion that Napoleon was the most extraordinary man whom they had met 
 in modern times, or of whom they had read in ancient history." 
 
 M. Constant and M. Sismondi, who both knew Napoleon well, have re- 
 marked : " The quickness of his conception, the depth of his remarks, the 
 facility and propriety of his eloquence, and, above all, the candor of his re- 
 plies and his patient silence, were more remarkable and attractive than we 
 ever met with in any other individual." 
 
 "What your interests require," said Napoleon at this time, "is, 1. Equal- 
 ity of rights among the whole eighteen cantons. 2. A sincere and volunta- 
 ry renunciation of all exclusive privileges on the part of patrician families. 
 3. A federative organization, where every canton may find itself arranged 
 according to its language, its religion, its manners, and its interests. The 
 central government remains to be provided for, but it is of much less con- 
 sequence than the central organization. Situated on the summit of the 
 mountains which separate France, Italy, and Germany, you participate in 
 the disposition of all these countries. You have never maintained regular 
 armies, nor had established accredited agents at the courts of the different 
 governments. Strict neutrality, a prosperous commerce, and family admin- 
 istration can alone secure your interests or be suited to your wishes. Every 
 organization which could be established among you, hostile to the interests 
 of France, would injure you in the most essential particulars." 
 
 This was commending to them a federative organization similar to that of 
 the United States, and cautioning them against the evil of a centralization of 
 power. No impartial man can deny that the most profound wisdom marked 
 the principles which Napoleon suggested to terminate the divisions with 
 which the cantons of Switzerland had long been agitated. " These lenient 
 conditions," says Alison, " gave universal satisfaction in Switzerland." The 
 following extract from the noble speech which Napoleon pronounced on the 
 formation of the constitution of the confederacy will be read by many with 
 surprise, by all with interest. 
 
 " The re-establishment of the ancient order of things in the democratic 
 cantons is the best course which can be adopted, both for you and me. They 
 are the states whose peculiar form of government render them so interesting 
 in the eyes of all Europe. But for this pure democracy you would exhibit 
 nothing which is not to be found elsewhere. Beware of extinguishing so re- 
 markable a distinction. I know well that this democratic system of admin- 
 istration has many inconveniences, but it is established ; it has existed for 
 centuries. It springs from the circumstances, situation, and primitive habits 
 of the people, from the genius of the place, and can not with safety be aban-
 
 1801.] NATIONAL REFORMS. 365 
 
 doned. You must never take away from a democratic society the practical 
 exercise of its privileges. To give such exercise a direction consistent with 
 the tranquillity of the state is the part of true political wisdom. In ancient 
 Rome the votes were counted by classes, and they threw into the last class 
 the whole body of indigent citizens, while the first contained only a few hund- 
 red of the most opulent. But the populace were content, and, amused with 
 the solicitation of their votes, did not perceive the immense difference in their 
 relative value." 
 
 The moral influence which France thus obtained in Switzerland was re- 
 garded with extreme jealousy by all the rival powers. " His conduct and 
 language," says Alison, " on this occasion were distinguished by his usual 
 penetration and ability, and a most unusual degree of lenity and forbearance. 
 And if any thing could have reconciled the Swiss to the loss of their inde- 
 pendence, it must have been the wisdom and equity on which his mediation 
 was founded." 
 
 The English who visited Paris were astonished at the indications of pros' 
 perity which the metropolis exhibited. They found France in a very differ- 
 ent condition from the hideous picture which had been described by the Lon- 
 don journals. But there were two parties in England. Pitt and his friends 
 submitted with extreme reluctance to a peace which they could not avoid. 
 The English people, however, were overjoyed at the cessation of the horri- 
 ble war. " But while," says Alison, "these were the natural feelings of the 
 inconsiderate populace, who are ever governed by present impressions, and 
 who were for the most part destitute of the information requisite to form a 
 rational opinion on the subject, there were many men, gifted with greater 
 sagacity and foresight, who deeply lamented the conditions by which peace 
 had been purchased, and from the very first prophesied that it could be of no 
 long endurance. They observed that the war had been abruptly terminated 
 without any one object being gained for which it was undertaken ; that it was 
 entered into in order to curb the ambition and to stop the democratic propa- 
 gandism of France." 
 
 These " many men gifted with greater sagacity," with William Pitt at 
 their head, now employed themselves with sleepless vigilance and with fatal 
 success to bring to a rupture a peace which they deemed so untoward. Sir 
 Walter Scott discloses the feelings with which this party were actuated in 
 the observations, " It seems more than probable that the extreme rejoicing 
 of the rabble of London at signing the preliminaries, their dragging about the 
 carriage of Lauriston, and shouting ' Bonaparte forever,' had misled the ruler 
 of France into an opinion that peace was indispensably necessary to England. 
 He may easily enough have mistaken the cries of a London mob for the voice 
 of the British people."* 
 
 * " It is generally, perhaps universally, stated that England saw an infraction of the treaty of 
 Amiens in the incorporation of Piedmont, the island of Elba, and the states of Parma with the 
 French empire, and in the armed mediation in the affairs of Switzerland ; and these circumstances 
 are alleged as strong instances to prove that Napoleon did not, in spite of his protestations, wish 
 for peace, because he committed acts that would inevitably lead to war, and which England could 
 not allow ; but we have it from the chief of the French delegation for the conclusion of the peace 
 of Amiens, that he informed Lord Cornwallis on several occasions of the changes which would take 
 place in France in the relations of France and Italy. The English government were, therefore, 
 
 VOL. II. E
 
 366 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 In the midst of all these cares, Napoleon was making strenuous efforts to 
 restore religion to France. It required great moral courage to prosecute 
 such a movement. Nearly all the generals in his armies were rank infidels, 
 regarding every form of religion with contempt. The religious element, by 
 nature, predominated in the bosom of Napoleon. He was constitutionally 
 serious, thoughtful, pensive. A profound melancholy ever overshadowed his 
 reflective spirit. His inquisitive mind pondered the mysteries of the past and 
 the uncertainties of the future. Educated in a wild country, where the peas- 
 antry were imbued with religious feelings, and having been trained by a 
 pious mother, whose venerable character he never ceased to adore, the sight 
 of the hallowed rites of religion revived in his sensitive and exalted imagina- 
 tion the deepest impressions of his childhood. 
 
 He had carefully studied, on his return from Egypt, the New Testament, 
 and appreciated and profoundly admired its beautiful morality. He often 
 conversed with Monge, Lagrange, Laplace, sages whom he honored and 
 loved, and he frequently embarrassed them in their incredulity by the logical 
 clearness of his arguments. The witticisms of Voltaire, and the corruptions 
 of unbridled sin, had rendered the purity of the Gospel unpalatable to France. 
 Talleyrand, annoyed by the remembrance of his own apostasy, bitterly op- 
 posed what he called " the religious peace." Nearly all the supporters and 
 friends of the First Consul condemned every effort to bring back that which 
 they denominated the reign of superstition. Napoleon honestly believed that 
 the interests of France demanded that God should be recognized and Chris- 
 tianity respected by the French nation. 
 
 " Hear me," said Napoleon one day earnestly to Monge. " I do not 
 maintain these opinions through the positiveness of a devotee, but from rea- 
 son. My religion is very simple. I look at this universe, so vast, so com- 
 plex, so magnificent, and I say to myself that it can not be the result of 
 chance, but the work, however intended, of an unknown, omnipotent being, 
 as superior to man as the universe is superior to the finest machines of hu- 
 man invention. Search the philosophers, and you will not find a more deci- 
 sive argument, and you can not weaken it. But this truth is too succinct 
 for man. He wishes to know, respecting himself and respecting his future 
 destiny, a crowd of secrets which the universe does not disclose. Allow re- 
 ligion to inform him of that which he feels the need of knowing, and respect 
 her disclosures." 
 
 One day, when this matter was under earnest discussion in the Council of 
 State, Napoleon said, " Last evening I was walking alone in the woods, amid 
 the solitude of nature. The tones of a distant church bell fell upon my ear. 
 
 instructed of these changes, and they were not the cause of the rupture of peace." Encyclopedia 
 Americana, Article Napoleon. 
 
 " Who, let me ask, first proposed to the Swiss people to depart from the neutrality which 
 was their chief protection, and to join the confederacy against the French 1 I answer, that a no- 
 ble relation of mine (Lord Herbert Fitzgerald), then the minister of England to the Swiss can- 
 tons, was instructed in direct terms to propose to the Swiss, by an official note, to break from the 
 safe line they had laid down for themselves, and to tell them that ' in such a contest neutrality wai> 
 criminal.' I know that noble lord too well, though I have not been in habits of intimacy with him 
 of late, from the employments in which he has been engaged, to suspect that he would have pre- 
 sented such a paper without the express instructions of his court, or that he would have gone be- 
 yond those instructions." Speech in Parliament by Mr. Fox.
 
 1801.] NATIONAL REFORMS. 357 
 
 Involuntarily I felt deep emotion, so powerful is the influence of early habits 
 and associations. I said to myself, If I feel thus, what must be the influence 
 of such impressions upon the popular mind ? Let your philosophers answer 
 that, if they can. It is absolutely indispensable to have a religion for the 
 people. It will be said that I am a Papist. I am not. I am convinced that 
 a part of France would become Protestant, were I to favor that disposition. 
 I am also certain that the much greater portion would continue Catholic, and 
 that they would oppose, with the greatest zeal, the division among their fel- 
 low-citizens. We should then have the Huguenot wars over again, and in- 
 terminable conflicts. ^ But by reviving a religion which has always prevailed 
 in the country, and by giving perfect liberty of conscience to the minority, 
 all will be satisfied." 
 
 " The sound of a bell," says Bourrienne, " produced an effect upon Napo- 
 leon which I could never explain. He listened to it with delight. When we 
 were at Malmaison, and were walking in the road which led to Ruel, how 
 many times has the sound of the bell of the village church interrupted the 
 most serious conversation. He would instantly stop, that the noise of our 
 steps might not cause him to lose a single one of those distant tones which 
 charmed him. He was vexed with me because I did not experience the same 
 impressions. The effect produced upon him was so great that his voice 
 trembled with emotion, and he said to me, 'That recalls the first years which 
 I passed at Brienne. I was then happy.' I have been twenty times witness 
 to the singular effect which the sound of a bell had upon Napoleon." 
 
 On another occasion he remarked, " What renders me most hostile to the 
 establishment of the Catholic worship are the numerous festivals formerly 
 observed. A saint's day is a day of idleness, and I do not wish for that. 
 People must labor in order to live. I shall consent to four holidays during 
 the year, but to no more. If the gentlemen from Rome are not satisfied 
 with that, they may take their departure." The loss of time appeared to 
 him such a calamity, that he almost invariably appointed any indispensable 
 celebration upon some day previously devoted to festivity. 
 
 The new pontiff was attached to Napoleon by the secret chain of mutual 
 sympathy. They had met, as we have before remarked, during the wars of 
 Italy. Pius VII., then the Bishop of Imola, was surprised and delighted in 
 finding in the young Republican general, whose fame was filling Europe, a 
 man of refinement, of exalted genius, of reflection, of serious character, of 
 unblemished purity of life, and of delicate sensibilities, restraining the irre- 
 ligious propensities of his soldiers, and respecting the temples of religion. 
 With classic purity and eloquence he spoke the Italian language. The dig- 
 nity and decorum of his manners, and his love of order, were strangely con- 
 trasted with the recklessness of the ferocious soldiers with whom he was 
 surrounded. The impression thus produced upon the heart of the pontiff 
 was never effaced. Justice and generosity are always politic. But he must 
 indeed be influenced by an ignoble spirit who hence infers that every act of 
 magnanimity is dictated by policy. A legate was sent by the Pope to Paris. 
 " Let the holy father," said Napoleon, " put the utmost confidence in me. 
 Let him cast himself into my arms, and I will be for the Church another 
 Charlemagne."
 
 368 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 Napoleon had collected for himself a library of well chosen books relat- 
 ing to the organization and the history of the Church, and to the relations of 
 Church and state. He had ordered the Latin writings of Bossuet to be trans- 
 lated for him. These works he had devoured in those short intervals which 
 he could glean from the cares of government. His genius enabled him at a 
 glance to master the argument of an author, to detect any existing sophis- 
 try. His memory, almost miraculously retentive, and the philosophical cast 
 of his mind, gave him at all times the perfect command of these treasures 
 of knowledge. He astonished the world by the accuracy, extent, and vari- 
 ety of his information upon all points of religion. 
 
 It was his custom, when deeply interested in any subject, to discuss it 
 with all persons from whom he could obtain information-. With clear, de- 
 cisive, and cogent arguments, he advocated his own views, and refuted the 
 erroneous systems successively proposed to him. It was urged upon Napo- 
 leon that, if he must have a church, he should establish a French church, in- 
 dependent of that of Rome. The poetic element was too strong in the char- 
 acter of Napoleon for such a thought. 
 
 "What !" he exclaimed, " shall I, a warrior, wearing sword and spurs, and 
 doing battle, attempt to become the head of a church, and to regulate 
 Church discipline and doctrine. I wish to be the pacificator of France and 
 of the world, and shall I become the originator of a new schism, a little more 
 absurd and not less dangerous than the preceding ones. I must have a Pope, 
 and a' Pope who will approximate men's minds to each other instead of cre- 
 ating divisions ; who will reunite them, and give them to the government 
 sprung from the Revolution as a price for the protection that he shall have 
 obtained from it. For this purpose I must have the true Pope, the Catho- 
 lic, apostolic, and Roman Pope, whose seat is at the Vatican. With the 
 French armies and some deference, I shall always be sufficiently his master. 
 When I shall raise up the altars again, when I shall protect the priests, when 
 I shall feed them, and treat them as ministers of religion deserve to be treat- 
 ed in every country, he will do what I ask of him, through the interest he 
 will have in the general tranquillity. He will calm men's minds, reunite 
 them under his hand, and place them under mine. Short of this there is 
 only a continuation and an aggravation of the desolating schism which is 
 preying on us, and for me an immense and indelible ridicule." 
 
 The Pope's legate most strenuously urged some of the most arrogant and 
 exclusive assumptions of the Papal Church. 
 
 " The French people must be allured back to religion," said Napoleon, 
 "not shocked. To declare the Catholic religion the religion of the state is 
 impossible. It is contrary to the ideas prevalent in France, and will never 
 be admitted. In place of this declaration, we can only substitute the avowal 
 of the fact that the Catholic religion is the religion of the majority of French- 
 men. But there must be perfect freedom of opinion. The amalgamation 
 of wise and honest men of all parties is the principle of my government. I 
 must apply that principle to the Church as well as to the state. It is the 
 only way of putting an end to the troubles of France, and I shall persist in 
 it undeviatingly." 
 
 The question of the re-establishment of Christianity was very earnestly
 
 1801.] NATIONAL REFORMS. 359 
 
 discussed in the Council of State. To the objections which were urged, Na- 
 poleon replied, " You are deceived. The clergy exists, and ever will exist. 
 They will exist as long as the people are imbued with a religious spirit, and 
 that disposition is permanent in the human heart. We have seen republics 
 and democracies. History has many examples of such governments to ex- 
 hibit, but none of a state without an established worship, without religion, 
 and without priests. Is it not better to organize the public worship and dis- 
 cipline the priests, than to leave both entirely emancipated from the control 
 of the state ? At present the clergy openly preach against the Republic, be- 
 cause they experience no benefit from it. Should we transport them ? Un- 
 questionably not ! for what alone constitutes their authority in the wreck 
 of their fortunes is the fidelity with which they adhere to the Church of their 
 fathers, and that will be increased rather than diminished by all the suffer- 
 ings they undergo. You may send into exile the English or the Austrians, 
 for they are bound by no ties to our country ; but the French, who have 
 families here, and are guilty of no offense but an adherence to their religious 
 opinions, must be treated differently. You can not extinguish their opinions. 
 You must, therefore, attach them to the Republic. If the Protestant faith 
 is proclaimed, one half the country will adopt that creed, and the other half 
 remain Roman Catholic. We shall have the Huguenot wars over again, 
 and interminable divisions. We have nothing to take from the clergy, and 
 as little to ask from them. The affair is entirely a political matter, and the 
 line I have adopted appears the safest that could have been chosen." 
 
 The numbers were : For. Against. 
 
 Tribunate 78 7 
 
 Legislative body 228 21 
 
 306 28* 
 
 Napoleon was overjoyed at the prospect not only of a general peace with 
 Europe, but of religious peace in France. In all the rural districts, the in- 
 habitants longed for their churches and their pastors, and for the rites of re- 
 ligion. In the time of the Directory, a famous wooden image of the Virgin 
 had been taken from the church at Loretto, and was deposited in one of the 
 museums of Paris as a curiosity. The sincere Catholics were deeply wound- 
 ed and irritated by this act, which to them appeared so sacrilegious. Great 
 joy was caused both in France and Italy when Napoleon sent a courier to 
 the Pope restoring this statue, which was regarded with very peculiar ven- 
 eration. The same embassador carried the terms of agreement for peace 
 with the Church. This religious treaty with Rome was called " The Con- 
 cordat." The Pope, in secular power, was helpless. Napoleon could, at 
 any moment, pour a resistless swarm of troops into his territories. 
 
 As the French embassador left the Tuileries, he asked the First Consul 
 for his instructions. " Treat the Pope," said Napoleon, magnanimously, " as 
 if he had two hundred thousand soldiers." The difficulties in the way of an 
 amicable arrangement were innumerable. The army of France was thor- 
 oughly infidel. Most of the leading generals and statesmen who surrounded 
 Napoleon contemplated Christianity in every aspect with hatred and scorn. 
 Qn the other hand, the Catholic Church, uninstructed by misfortune, was 
 
 * Thibodeaux, p. 210.
 
 370 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 not disposed to abate in the least its arrogant demands, and was clamorous 
 for concessions which even Napoleon had not power to confer. It required 
 all the wisdom, forbearance, and tact of the First Consul to accomplish this 
 reconciliation. Joseph Bonaparte, the accomplished gentleman, the sincere, 
 urbane, sagacious, upright man, was Napoleon's corps de reserve in all di- 
 plomatic acts. 
 
 The preliminaries being finally adjusted, the Pope's legation met at the 
 house of Joseph Bonaparte, and on the 15th of July, 1801, this great act 
 was signed. Napoleon announced the event to the Council of State. He 
 addressed them in a speech an hour and a half in length, and all were struck 
 with the precision, the vigor, and the loftiness of his language. By univer- 
 sal consent, his speech was pronounced to be eloquent in the highest degree. 
 But those philosophers, who regarded it as the great glory of the Revolution 
 that all superstition, by which they meant all religion, was swept away, in 
 sullen silence yielded to a power which they could not resist. The people, 
 the millions of France, were with Napoleon. 
 
 The following liberal and noble sentiments were uttered in the proclama- 
 tion by which Napoleon announced the Concordat to the French people : 
 "An insane policy has sought, during the Revolution, to smother religious 
 dissensions under the ruins of the altar, under the ashes of religion itself. 
 At its voice all those pious solemnities ceased in which the citizens called 
 each other by the endearing name of brothers, and acknowledged their com 
 mon equality in the sight of Heaven. The dying, left alone in his agonies, 
 no longer heard that consoling voice which calls the Christian to a better 
 world. God himself seemed exiled from the face of nature. Ministers of 
 the religion of peace, let a complete oblivion vail over your dissensions, your 
 misfortunes, your faults. Let the religion which unites you bind you by in- 
 dissoluble cords to the interests of your country. Let the young learn from 
 your precepts that the God of peace is also the God of arms, and that he 
 throws his shield over those who combat for the liberties of France. Citi- 
 zens of the Protestant faith, the law has equally extended its solicitude to 
 your interests. Let the morality, so pure, so holy, so brotherly, which you 
 profess, unite you all in love to your country, and in respect for its laws ; 
 and, above all, never permit disputes on doctrinal points to weaken that uni- 
 versal charity which religion at once inculcates and commands." 
 
 To foreign nations, the spectacle of France thus voluntarily returning to 
 the Christian faith was gratifying in the highest degree. It seemed to them 
 the pledge of peace and the harbinger of tranquillity. The Emperor of 
 Russia and the King of Prussia publicly expressed their joy at the auspi- 
 cious event. The Emperor of Austria styled it " a service truly rendered to 
 all Europe." The serious and devout in all lands considered the voluntary 
 return of the French people to religion, from the impossibility of living with- 
 out its precepts, as one of the most signal triumphs of the Christian faith. 
 
 On the llth of April, 1802, the event was celebrated by a magnificent re- 
 jfigious ceremony in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. No expense was spared 
 to invest the festivity with the utmost splendor. Though many of the gen- 
 erals and the hi?h authorities of the state were extremely reluctant to par, 
 ticipate in the solemnities of the occasion, the power and the popularity of
 
 1802.] NATIONAL REFORMS. 371 
 
 the First Consul were so great that they dared not make any resistance. 
 The Cathedral was crowded with splendor. The versatile populace, ever 
 delighted with change and with shows, were overjoyed. General Rapp, 
 however, positively refused to attend the ceremony. With the bluntness of 
 a soldier, conscious that his well-known devotion to the First Consul would 
 procure for him impunity, he said, 
 
 " I shall not attend. But if you do not make these priests your aids or 
 your cooks, you may do with them as you please." 
 
 As Napoleon was making preparations to go to the Cathedral, Cambaceres 
 entered his apartment. 
 
 " Well," said the First Consul, rubbing his hands in the glow of his grati- 
 fication, " we go to church this morning. What say they to that in Paris ?" 
 
 "Many persons," replied Cambaceres, "propose to attend the first repre- 
 sentation in order to hiss the piece, should they not find it amusing." 
 
 " If any one," Napoleon firmly replied, " takes it into his head to hiss, I 
 shall put him out of the door by the grenadiers of the consular guard." 
 
 " But what if the grenadiers themselves," Cambaceres rejoined, " should 
 take to hissing like the rest ?" 
 
 " As to that I have no fear," said Napoleon. " My old mustaches will go 
 here to Notre Dame, just as at Cairo they would have gone to the mosque. 
 They will remark how I do, and, seeing their general grave and decent, they 
 will be so too, passing the watchword to each other, Decency." 
 
 " What did you think of the ceremony ?" inquired Napoleon of General 
 Delmas, who stood near him, when it was concluded. 
 
 " It was a fine piece of mummery," he replied ; " nothing was wanting but 
 the million of men who have perished to destroy that which you have now 
 re-established." 
 
 Some of the priests, encouraged by this triumphant restoration of Chris- 
 tianity, began to assume not a little arrogance. A celebrated opera dancer 
 died, not in the faith. The priest of St. Roche refused to receive the body 
 into the church, or to celebrate over it the rites of interment. The next day 
 Napoleon caused the following article to be inserted in the Moniteur : 
 
 " The curate of St. Roche, in a moment of hallucination, has refused the 
 rites of burial to Mademoiselle Cameroi. One of his colleagues, a man of 
 sense, received the procession into the church of St. Thomas, where the bur- 
 ial service was performed with the usual solemnities. The Archbishop of 
 Paris has suspended the curate of St. Roche for three months, to give him 
 time to recollect that Jesus Christ commanded us to pray even for our ene- 
 mies. Being thus recalled by meditation to a proper sense of his duties, he 
 may learn that all these superstitious observances, the offspring of an age of 
 credulity or of crazed imaginations, tend only to the discredit of true religion, 
 and have been proscribed by the recent Concordat of the French Church." 
 
 The most strenuous exertions were made by the clergy to induce Napo- 
 leon publicly to partake of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. It was 
 thought that his high example would be very influential upon others. Na- 
 poleon nobly replied, " I have not sufficient faith in the ordinance to be ben- 
 efited by its reception ; and I have too much faith in it to allow me to be 
 guilty of sacrilege. We are well as we are. Do not ask me to go farther.
 
 372 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 You will never obtain what you wish. I will not become a hypocrite. Be 
 content with what you have already gained." 
 
 It is difficult to describe the undisguised delight with which the peasants 
 all over France again heard the ringing of the church bells upon the Sab- 
 bath morning, and witnessed the opening of the church doors, the assembling 
 of the congregations with smiles and congratulations, and the repose of the 
 Sabbath. Mr. Fox, in conversation with Napoleon after the peace of Amiens, 
 ventured to blame him for not having authorized the marriage of priests in 
 France. " I then had," said Napoleon, in his nervous eloquence, " need to 
 pacify. It is with water, and not with oil, that you must extinguish theo- 
 logical volcanoes. I should have had less difficulty in establishing the Prot- 
 estant religion in my empire." 
 
 The magistrates of Paris, grateful for the inestimable blessings which Na- 
 poleon had conferred upon France, requested him to accept the project of a 
 triumphal monument to be erected in his honor, at a cost of one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars. Napoleon gave the following reply : 
 
 " I view with grateful acknowledgments those sentiments which actuate 
 the magistrates of the city of Paris. The idea of dedicating monumental 
 trophies to those men who have rendered themselves useful to the communi- 
 ty is a praiseworthy action in all nations. I accept the offer of the monu- 
 ment which you desire to dedicate to me. Let the spot be designated. But 
 leave the labor of constructing it to future generations, should they think fit 
 thus to sanction the estimate which you place upon my services." Beneath 
 the dome of the Invalides may now be seen the estimate which France has 
 placed on the services of Napoleon. 
 
 There was an indescribable fascination about the character of Napoleon 
 which no other man ever possessed, and which all felt who entered his pres- 
 ence. Some military officers of high rank, on one occasion, in these days 
 of his early power, agreed to go and- remonstrate with him upon some subject 
 which had given them offense. One of the party thus describes the inter- 
 view : 
 
 " I do not know whence it arises, but there is a charm about that man 
 which is indescribable and irresistible. I am no admirer of him. I dislike 
 the power to which he has risen. Yet I can not help confessing that there 
 is a something in him which seems to speak that he is born to command. 
 We went into his apartment determined to declare our minds to him very 
 freely, to expostulate with him warmly, and not to depart till our subjects 
 of complaint were removed. But in his manner of receiving us there was 
 a certain something, a degree of fascination, which disarmed us in a moment-, 
 nor could we utter one word of what we had intended to say. He talked to 
 us for a long time with an eloquence peculiarly his own, explaining, with 
 the utmost clearness and precision, the necessity for steadily pursuing the 
 line of conduct he had adopted. Without contradicting us in direct terms, 
 he controverted our opinions so ably that we had not a word to say in reply. 
 We left him, having done nothing else but listen to him instead of expostu- 
 lating with him, and fully convinced, at least for the moment, that he was 
 in the right and we were in the wrong." 
 
 The merchants of Rouen experienced a similar fascination when they
 
 1802.] NATIONAL REFORMS. 373 
 
 called to remonstrate against some commercial relations which Napoleon 
 had introduced. They were so entirely disarmed by his frankness, his sin- 
 cerity, and were so deeply impressed by the extent and the depth of his views, 
 that they retired, saying, " The First Consul understands our interests far 
 better than we do ourselves." 
 
 " The man," says Lady Morgan, " who, at the head of a vast empire, 
 could plan great and lasting works, conquer nations, and yet talk astronomy 
 with La Place, tragedy with Talma, music with Cherubini, painting with 
 Gerrard, vertu with Denon, and literature and science with any one who 
 would listen to him, was certainly out of the roll of common men." 
 
 Napoleon now exerted all his energies for the elevation of France. He 
 sought out and encouraged talent wherever it could be found. No merit 
 escaped his princely munificence. Authors, artists, men of science were 
 loaded with honors and emoluments. He devoted most earnest attention to 
 the education of youth. The navy, commerce, agriculture, manufactures, 
 and all mechanic arts, secured his assiduous care. He labored to the ut- 
 most, and with a moral courage above all praise, to discountenance whatever 
 was loose in morals, or enervating or unmanly in amusements or taste. 
 
 The theatre was the most popular source of entertainment in France. He 
 frowned upon all frivolous and immodest performances, and encouraged those 
 only which were moral, grave, and dignified. In the grandeur of tragedy alone 
 he took pleasure. In his private deportment he exhibited the example of a 
 moral, simple, and toilsome life. Among the forty millions of France, there 
 was not to be found a more temperate and laborious man. When nights of 
 labor succeeded days of toil, his only stimulus was lemonade. He loved his 
 own family and friends, and was loved by them with a fervor which soared 
 into the regions of devotion. Never before did -mortal man secure such love. 
 Thousands were ready at any moment to lay down their lives through their 
 affection for him. And that mysterious charm was so strong that it has sur- 
 vived his death. Thousands now live who* would brave death in any form 
 from love for Napoleon.* 
 
 * " If Napoleon had not distinguished himself as a soldier, he would have done so as an author, 
 poet, orator, or mathematician, somehow or other ; for he was potent with both tongue and pen 
 as well as sword. His conversation was highly instructive, and he was one of the most eloquent 
 men of modern times. His orders of the day, proclamations, bulletins, speeches, addresses, and 
 answers to addresses all his writings, from his first appearance in Italy to his last will and testa- 
 ment at St. Helena many of his sudden sayings, his maxims, sarcasms, witticisms, and unpremed- 
 itated observations, breathe an abrupt, vivifying, concentrated, and peculiar spirit, poetical and im- 
 aginative, logical and argumentative, fervid and forcible. 
 
 " Napoleon was a free talker, never wrapped up in mysterious taciturnity, or disclosed by oracular 
 intimations. Yet he was a listener too, which is a rare talent, and could keep his decision sus- 
 pended till he heard all that might be said on all sides. Deliberations lasted mostly five or six 
 hours a day, which is longer than an American judicial, much longer than a legislative daily ses- 
 sion. Not only would the Emperor, all that time, take his part in the council, but often keep some 
 of the counselors to dine with him, during and after dinner renewing the subject, and analyzing it 
 in every way. In those grave, sometimes technical and complicated questions, the astonishing ver- 
 satility of his genius, and extent of his attainments for civil as well as military government, the 
 quickness and clearness with which he seized the very point in question in matters he had not been 
 educated to, and might well have been uninformed of, his superior knowledge of men and things, 
 were wonderfully apparent." Ingersoll's Second War, vol. i., p. 154, Second Series.
 
 374 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 
 
 Peace in France Trials of Josephine State of Morals Josephine's Plans for Hortense Louis 
 Bonaparte Italian Republic Congress at Lyons Incessant Activity of Napoleon Solicitude 
 of England Schools Origin of the Decoration of the Legion of Honor Election as First Con- 
 sul for Life Reproof to Lucien and Eliza Review Renewal of Difficulties with England. 
 
 FRANCE was now at peace with all the world. It was universally admit- 
 ted that Napoleon was the great pacificator. He was the idol of France. 
 The masses of the people of Europe every where regarded him as their ad- 
 vocate and friend, the enemy of aristocratic usurpation, and the great cham- 
 pion of equality. The people of France no longer demanded liberty. Weary 
 years of woe had taught them gladly to relinquish the boon. They only de- 
 sired a ruler who would take care of them, govern them, protect them from 
 the power of allied despotism, and give them equal rights. Though Napoleon 
 had now but the title of First Consul, and France was nominally a repub- 
 lic, he was, in reality, the most powerful monarch in Europe. His throne 
 was established in the hearts of nearly forty millions of people. His word 
 was law. 
 
 It will be remembered that Josephine contemplated the extraordinary 
 grandeur to which her husband had attained, with intense solicitude. She 
 saw that more than ordinary regal power had passed into his hands, and she 
 was not a stranger to the intense desire which animated his heart to have an 
 heir to whom to transmit his name and glory. She knew that many were 
 intimating to him that an heir was essential to the repose of France. She 
 was fully informed that divorce had been urged upon him as one of the stern 
 necessities of state. One day, when Napoleon was busy in his cabinet, Jose- 
 phine entered softly by a side door, and seating herself affectionately upon 
 his knee, and passing her hand gently through his hair, said to him, with a 
 burst of tenderness, 
 
 " I entreat yon, my love, do not make yourself king. It is Lucien who 
 urges you to it. Do not listen to him." 
 
 Napoleon smiled upon her kindly, and said, " Why, my poor Josephine, 
 you are mad. You must not listen to these fables which the old dowagers 
 tell you. But you interrupt me now ; I am very busy ; leave me alone." 
 
 Josephine was at times almost delirious in apprehension of the awful ca- 
 lamity which threatened her. She knew the intensity of her husband's 
 love. She also knew the boundlessness of his ambition. She could not be 
 blind to the apparent importance, as a matter of state policy, that Napoleon 
 should possess an heir. She also was fully aware that throughout France 
 marriage had long been regarded but as a partnership of convenience, to be 
 formed and sundered almost at pleasure. " Marriage," said Madame de 
 Stae'l, " has become but the sacrament of adultery." The nation, under the 
 influence of these views, would condemn her for selfishly refusing assent to
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 375 
 
 an arrangement apparently essential to the repose of France and of Europe. 
 Never was a woman placed in a situation of more terrible trial. Never was 
 an ambitious man exposed to a more fiery temptation. 
 
 Laying aside the authority of Christianity, and contemplating the subject 
 in the light of mere expediency, it seemed a plain duty for Napoleon and 
 Josephine to separate. But gloriously does it illustrate the immutable truth 
 of God's word, that even in such an exigence as this, the path which the 
 Bible pointed out was the only path of safety and of peace. " In separating 
 myself from Josephine," said Napoleon afterward, " and in marrying Maria 
 Louisa, I placed my foot upon an abyss which was covered with flowers." 
 
 Josephine's daughter, Hortense, beautiful, brilliant, and amiable, then but 
 eighteen years of age, was strongly attached to Duroc, one of Napoleon's 
 aids, a very fashionable and handsome man. Josephine, however, had con- 
 ceived the idea of marrying Hortense to Louis Bonaparte, Napoleon's younger 
 brother. She said one day to Bourrienne, 
 
 " My two brothers-in-law are my determined enemies. You see all their 
 intrigues. You know how much uneasiness they have caused me. This 
 projected marriage with Duroc leaves me without any support. Duroc, in- 
 dependent of Bonaparte's friendship, is nothing. He has neither fortune, 
 rank, nor even reputation. He can afford me no protection against the en- 
 mity of the brothers. I must have some more certain reliance for the future. 
 My husband loves Louis very much. If I can succeed in uniting my daughter 
 to him, he will prove a strong counterpoise to the calumnies and persecutions 
 of my brothers-in-law." 
 
 These remarks were reported to Napoleon. He replied, " Josephine la- 
 bors in vain. Duroc and Hortense love each other, and they shall be mar- 
 ried. I am attached to Duroc. He is well born. I have given Caroline to 
 Murat, and Pauline to Le Clerc. I can as well give Hortense to Duroc. 
 He is brave. He is as good as the others. He is general of division. Be- 
 sides, I have other views for Louis." 
 
 In the palace the heart may throb with the same joys and griefs as in the 
 cottage. In anticipation of the projected marriage, Duroc was sent on a 
 special mission to compliment the Emperor Alexander on his accession to 
 the throne. Duroc wrote often to Hortense while absent. When the pri- 
 vate secretary whispered in her ear, in the midst of the brilliant throng of 
 the Tuileries, " I have a letter," she would immediately retire to her apart- 
 ment. Upon her return, her friends could see that her eyes were moistened 
 with the tears of affection and joy. Josephine cherished the hope that, could 
 she succeed in uniting Hortense with Louis Bonaparte, should Hortense give 
 birth to a son, Napoleon would regard him as his heir. The child would 
 bear the name of Bonaparte ; th bloo 1 of the Bonapartes would circulate in 
 his veins ; and he would be the offspring of Hortense, whom Napoleon re- 
 garded as his own daughter, and whom he loved with the strongest parental 
 affection. Thus the terrible divorce might be averted. Urged by motives 
 so powerful. Josephine left no means untried to accomplish her purpose. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte was a studious, pensive, imaginative man, of great moral 
 worth, though possessing but little force of character. He had been bitterly 
 disappointed in his affections, and was weary of the world. When but nine-
 
 376 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV 
 
 teen years of age he had formed a very strong attachment for a young lady 
 whom he had met in Paris. She was the daughter of an emigrant noble 
 and his whole being became absorbed in the passion of love. Napoleon, 
 then in the midst of those victories which paved his way to the throne of 
 France, was apprehensive that the alliance of his brother with one of the old 
 Royalist families might endanger his own ambitious projects. He therefor.? 
 sent him away on a military commission, and secured, by his powerful in 
 strumentality, the marriage of the young lady to another person. The dis- 
 appointment preyed deeply upon the heart of the sensitive young man. All 
 ambition died within him. He loved solitude, and studiously avoided the 
 cares and pomp of state. Napoleon, not having been aware of the extrenu. 
 strength of his brother's attachment, when he saw the wound which he had 
 inflicted upon him, endeavored to make all the amends in his power. Hor- 
 tense was beautiful, full of grace and vivacity. At last Napoleon fell in wilh 
 the views of Josephine, and resolved, having united the two, to recompense 
 his brother, as far as possible, by lavishing great favors upon them. 
 
 It was long before Louis would listen to the proposition of his marriage 
 with Hortense. His affections still clung to the lost object of his idolatry, 
 and he could not, without pain, think of union with another. Indeed, a more 
 uncongenial alliance could hardly have been imagined. In no one thing 
 were their tastes similar. But who could resist the combined tact of Jose- 
 phine and power of Napoleon. All obstacles were swept away, and the 
 maiden, loving the hilarity of life, and its gayest scenes of festivity and 
 splendor, was reluctantly led to the silent, pensive scholar, who as reluct- 
 antly received her as his bride. 
 
 Hortense had become in some degree reconciled to the match, as her 
 powerful father promised to place them in high positions of wealth and rank. 
 Louis resigned himself to his lot, feeling that earth had no further joy in 
 store for him. A magnificent fete was given in honor of this marriage, at 
 which all the splendors of the ancient royalty were revived. Louis Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, who, as President of the French Republic, succeeded Louis 
 Philippe, the King of the French, was the only child of this marriage who 
 survived his parents. 
 
 Napoleon had organized in the heart of Italy a republic containing about 
 five millions of inhabitants. This republic could by no means maintain it- 
 self against the monarchies of Europe, unaided by France. Napoleon, sur- 
 rounded by hostile kings, deemed it essential to the safety of France to se- 
 cure in Italy a nation of congenial sympathies and interests, with whom he 
 could form the alliance of cordial friendship. The Italians, all inexperienced 
 in self-government, regarding Napoleon as their benefactor and their sole 
 supporter, looked to him for a const' tution. Three of the most influential 
 men of the Cisalpine Republic were sent as delegates to Paris, to consult 
 with the First Consul upon the organization of their government. Under 
 the direction of Napoleon a constitution was drafted, which, considering the 
 character of the Italian people, and the hostile monarchical influences which 
 surrounded them, was most highly liberal. A President and Vice-President 
 were to be chosen for ten years. There was to be a Senate of eight mem- 
 bers and a House of Representatives of seventy-five members. These were
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 377 
 
 all to be selected from a body composed of 300 landed proprietors, 200 mer- 
 chants, and 200 of the clergy and prominent literary men. Thus all the im- 
 portant interests of the state were represented. 
 
 In Italy, as in all the other countries of Europe at that time, there were 
 three prominent parties. The Loyalists sought the restoration of monarchy 
 and the exclusive privileges of kings and nobles. The moderate Republicans 
 wished to establish a firm government, which would enforce order, and con- 
 fer upon all equal rights. The Jacobins wished to break down all dis- 
 tinctions, divide property, and to govern by the blind energies of the mob. 
 Italy had long been held in subjection by the spiritual terrors of the priests 
 and by the bayonets of the Austrians. Ages of bondage had enervated the 
 people, and there were no Italian statesmen capable of taking the helm of 
 government in such a turbulent sea of troubles. Napoleon resolved to have 
 himself proposed as President, and then, reserving to himself the supreme 
 direction, to delegate the details of affairs to distinguished Italians, until they 
 should, in some degree, be trained to duties so new to them. 
 
 " This plan," says Thiers, " was not, on his part, the inspiration of ambi- 
 tion, but rather of great good sense. His view r s on this occasion were un- 
 questionably both pure and exalted." But nothing can more strikingly show 
 the almost miraculous energies of Napoleon's mind, and his perfect self-reli- 
 ance, than the readiness with which, in addition to the cares of the empire 
 of France, he assumed the responsibility of organizing and developing an- 
 other nation of five millions of inhabitants. This was in 1802. Napoleon 
 was then but thirty-three years of age. 
 
 To have surrendered those Italians, who had rallied around the armies of 
 France in their hour of need, again to Austrian domination, would have been 
 an act of treachery. To have abandoned them, in their inexperience, to the 
 Jacobin mob on the one hand, and to Royalist intrigues on the other, would 
 have insured the ruin of the Republic. But by leaving the details of govern- 
 ment to be administered by Italians, and at the same time sustaining the 
 constitution by his own powerful hand, there was a probability that the re- 
 public might attain prosperity and independence. As the press of business 
 rendered it extremely difficult for Napoleon to leave France, a plan was 
 formed for a vast congress of the Italians to be assembled in Lyons, about 
 half way between Paris and Milan, for the imposing adoption of the repub- 
 lican constitution. 
 
 Four hundred and fifty-two deputies were elected to cross the frozen Alps 
 in the month of December. The extraordinary watchfulness and foresight 
 of the First Consul had prepared every thing for them on the way. In 
 Lyons sumptuous preparations were made for their entertainment. Mag- 
 nificent halls were decorated in the highest style of earthly splendor for the 
 solemnities of the occasion. The army of Egypt, which had recently land- 
 ed, bronzed by an African sun, was gorgeous^ attired, to add to the magnifi- 
 cence of the spectacle . The Ly onese youth, exultant with pride, were formed 
 into an imposing body of cavalry. 
 
 On the llth of January, 1802, Napoleon, accompanied by Josephine, ar- 
 rived in Lyons. The whole population of the adjoining country had assem- 
 bled along the road, anxiously watching for hi c passage. At night immense
 
 378 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 fires illumined his path, blazing upon every hill-side and in every valley. 
 One continuous shout of " Live Bonaparte !" rolled along with the carriage 
 from Paris to Lyons. It was late in the evening when Napoleon arrived in 
 Lyons. The brilliant city flamed with the splendor of noon-day. The car- 
 riage of the First Consul passed under a triumphal arch, surmounted by a 
 sleeping lion, the emblem of France, and Napoleon took up his residence in 
 the Hotel de Ville, which, in most princely sumptuousness, had been deco- 
 rated for his reception. The Italians adored Napoleon. They felt person- 
 ally ennobled by his renown, for they considered him their countryman. 
 The Italian language was his native tongue, and he spoke it with the most 
 perfect fluency and elegance. The moment that the name of Napoleon was 
 suggested to the deputies as President of the Republic, it was received with 
 shouts of enthusiastic acclamation. 
 
 REVIEW AT LYONS. 
 
 A deputation was immediately sent to the First Consul to express the 
 unanimous and cordial wish of the Convention that he would accept the
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 379 
 
 office. While these things were transpiring, Napoleon, ever intensely occu- 
 pied, was inspecting his veteran soldiers of Italy and of Egypt in a public 
 review. The elements seemed to conspire to invest the occasion with splen- 
 dor. The day was cloudless, the sun brilliant, the sky serene, the air invig- 
 orating. All the inhabitants of Lyons and the populace of the adjacent 
 country thronged the streets. No pen can describe the transports with 
 which the hero was received, as he rode along the lines of these veterans, 
 whom he had so often led to victory. The soldiers shouted in a phrensy of 
 enthusiasm. Old men, and young men, and boys caught the shout, and it 
 reverberated along the streets in one continuous roar. Matrons and maidens, 
 waving banners and handkerchiefs, wept in excess of emotion. Bouquets 
 of flowers were showered from the windows to carpet his path, and every 
 conceivable demonstration was made of the most enthusiastic love. 
 
 Napoleon himself was deeply moved by the scene. Some of the old gren- 
 adiers, whom he recognized, he called out of the ranks, kindly talked with 
 them, inquiring respecting their wounds and their wants. He addressed sev- 
 eral of the officers, whom he had seen in many encounters, shook hands with 
 them, and a delirium of excitement pervaded all minds. Upon his return to 
 the Hotel de Ville, he met the deputation of the Convention. They present- 
 ed him the address, urging upon him the acceptance of the Presidency of 
 the Cisalpine Republic. Napoleon received the address, intimated his ac- 
 ceptance, and promised, on the following day, to meet the Convention. 
 
 The next morning dawned brightly upon the city. A large church, em- 
 bellished with richest drapery, was prepared for the solemnities of the occa- 
 sion. Napoleon entered the church, took his seat upon an elevated platform, 
 surrounded by his family, the French ministers, and a large number of dis- 
 tinguished generals and statesmen. He addressed the assembly in the Ital- 
 ian language with as much ease of manner, elegance of expression, and flu- 
 ency of utterance as if his whole life had been devoted to the cultivation of 
 the powers of oratory. He announced his acceptance of the dignity with 
 which they would invest him, and uttered his views respecting the measures 
 which should be adopted to secure the prosperity of the Italian Republic, as 
 the new state was henceforth to be called. Repeated bursts of applause in- 
 terrupted his address, and at its close one continuous shout of acclamation 
 testified the assent and the delight of the assembled multitude. Napoleon 
 remained at Lyons twenty days, occupied apparently, every moment, with 
 the vast affairs which then engrossed his attention. And yet he found time 
 to write daily to Paris, urging forward the majestic enterprises of the new 
 government in France. The following brief extracts from this free and 
 confidential correspondence afford an interesting glimpse of the motives 
 which actuated Napoleon at this time, and of the great objects of his am- 
 bition. 
 
 " I am proceeding slowly in my operations. I pass the whole of my morn- 
 ings in giving audience to the deputations of the neighboring departments. 
 The improvement in the happiness of France is obvious. During the past 
 two years the population of Lyons has increased more than 20,000 souls. 
 All the manufacturers tell me that their works are in a state of high activi- 
 ty. All minds seem to be full of energy ; not that energy which overturns
 
 380 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 empires, but that which re-establishes them, and conducts them to prosperi- 
 ty and riches. 
 
 " I beg of you particularly to see that the unruly members whom we have 
 in the constituted authorities are every one of them removed. The wish of 
 the nation is that the government shall not be obstructed in its endeavors to 
 act for the public good, and that the head of Medusa shall no longer show it- 
 self either in our tribunes or in our assemblies. The conduct of Sieyes on 
 this occasion completely proves that, having contributed to the destruction 
 of all the constitutions since '91, he wishes now to try his hand against the 
 present. He ought to burn a wax candle to Our Lady for having got out of 
 the scrape so fortunately and in so unexpected a manner. But the older I 
 grow, the more I perceive that each man must fulfill his destiny. I recom- 
 mend you to ascertain whether the provisions for St. Domingo have actually 
 been sent off. I take it for granted that you have taken proper measures 
 for demolishing the Chatelet. If the Minister of Marine should stand in need 
 of the frigates of the King of Naples, he may make use of them. General 
 Jourdan gives me a satisfactory account of the state of Piedmont. 
 
 " I wish that Citizen Royer be sent to the 16th military division to exam- 
 ine into the accounts of the paymaster. I also wish some individual, like 
 Citizen Royer, to perform the same duty for the 13th and 14th divisions. It 
 is complained that the receivers keep the money as long as they can, and 
 that the paymasters postpone payment as long as possible. The paymasters 
 and the receivers are the greatest nuisance in the state. 
 
 " Yesterday I visited several factories. I was pleased with the industry 
 and severe economy which pervaded those establishments. Should the win- 
 try weather continue severe, I do not think that the $25,000 a month, which 
 the Minister of the Interior grants for the purposes of charity, will be suffi- 
 cient. It will be necessary to add five thousand dollars for the distribution 
 of wood, and also to light fires in the churches and other large buildings to 
 give warmth to a great number of people." 
 
 Napoleon arrived in Paris on the 31st of January. In the mean time, 
 there had been a new election of members of the Tribunate and of the leg- 
 islative body. All those who had manifested any opposition to the measures 
 of Napoleon in the re-establishment of Christianity and in the adoption of 
 the new civil code were left out, and their places supplied by those who ap- 
 proved of the measures of the First Consul. Napoleon could now act unem- 
 barrassed. In every quarter there was submission. All the officers of the 
 state, immediately upon his return, sought an audience, and, in that pomp 
 of language which his majestic deeds arid character inspired, presented to 
 him their congratulations. He was already a sovereign, in possession of re- 
 gal power such as no other monarch in Europe enjoyed. 
 
 Upon one object all the energies of his mighty mind were concentrated. 
 France was his estate, his diadem, his all. The glory of France was his 
 glory, the happiness of France his happiness, the riches of France his wealth 
 Never did a father, with more untiring self-denial and toil, labor for his fami- 
 ly, than did Napoleon, through days of exertion and nights of sleeplessness, 
 devote every energy of body and soul to the greatness of France. He loved 
 not ease, lie loved not personal indulgence, he loved not sensual gratifica-
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 381 
 
 tion. The elevation of France to prosperity, wealth, and power was a lim- 
 itless ambition. The almost supernatural success which had thus far attend- 
 ed his exertions did but magnify his desires and stimulate his hopes. He 
 had no wish to elevate France upon the ruins of other nations. But he 
 wished to make France the pattern of all excellence, the illustrious leader at 
 the head of all nations, guiding them to intelligence, to opulence, and to 
 happiness. Such, at this time, was the towering ambition of Napoleon, the 
 most noble and comprehensive which was ever embraced by the conception 
 of man. 
 
 Of course, such ambition was not consistent with the equality of other na- 
 tions, for he determined that France should be the first. But he manifested 
 no disposition to destroy the happiness of others ; he only wished to give 
 such an impulse to humanity in France, by the culture of mind, by purity 
 of morals, by domestic industry, by foreign commerce, by great national 
 works, as to place France in the advance upon the race-course of greatness. 
 
 In this race Fran.ce had but one antagonist England. France had near- 
 ly forty millions of inhabitants. The island of Great Britain contained but 
 about fifteen millions. But England, with her colonies, girdled the globe, 
 and, with her fleets, commanded all seas. 
 
 " France," said Napoleon, " must also have her colonies and her fleets." 
 
 " If we permit that," the statesmen of England rejoined, "we may become 
 a secondary power, and may thus be at the mercy of France." 
 
 It was undeniably so. Shall history be blind to such fatality as this ? Is 
 man, in the hour of triumphant ambition, so moderate that we can be will- 
 ing that he should attain power which places us at his mercy ? England 
 was omnipotent upon the seas. She became arrogant and abused that pow- 
 er, and made herself offensive to all nations. Napoleon developed no spe- 
 cial meekness of character to indicate that he would be, in the pride of 
 strength which no nation could resist, more moderate and conciliating. Can- 
 dor can not censure England for being unwilling to yield her high position 
 to surrender her supremacy on the seas to become a secondary power to 
 allow France to become her master. And who can censure France for seek- 
 ing the establishment of colonies, the extension of commerce, friendly al- 
 liance with other nations, and the creation of fleets to protect her from ag- 
 gression upon the ocean as well as upon the land ? 
 
 Napoleon himself, with that wonderful magnanimity which ever charac- 
 terized him, though at times exasperated by the hostility which he now en- 
 countered, yet often spoke in terms of respect of the influences which ani- 
 mated his foes. It is to be regretted that his antagonists so seldom recipro- 
 cated this magnanimity. There was, in this sanguinary conflict, most cer- 
 tainly a right and a wrong. But it is not easy for man accurately to adjust 
 the balance. God alone can award the issue. The mind is saddened as it 
 wanders amid the labyrinths of conscientiousness and of passion, of pure mo- 
 tives and of impure ambition. This is, indeed, a fallen world. The drama 
 of nations is a tragedy. Melancholy is the lot of man. 
 
 England daily witnessed, with increasing alarm, the rapid and enormous 
 strides which France was making. The energy of the First Consul seemed 
 superhuman. His acts indicated the most profound sagacitv, the most for- 
 VOL. II. F
 
 382 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 reaching foresight. To-day the news reaches London that Napoleon has 
 been elected President of the Italian Republic. Thus, in an hour, five mill- 
 ions of people are added to his empire ! To-morrow it is announced that he 
 is establishing a colony at Elba that a vast expedition is sailing for St. Do- 
 mingo, to re-organize the colony there. England is bewildered. Again it is 
 proclaimed that Napoleon has purchased Louisiana of Spain, and is prepar- 
 ing to fill the fertile valley of the Mississippi with colonists. In the mean 
 time, all France is in a state of activity. Factories, roads, bridges, canals, 
 fortifications, are every where springing into existence. The sound of the 
 ship-hammer reverberates in all the harbors of France, and every month wit- 
 nesses the increase of the French fleet. The mass of the English people 
 contemplate with admiration this development of energy. .The statesmen of 
 England contemplate it with dread. 
 
 For some months Napoleon, in the midst of all his other cares, had been 
 maturing a vast system of public instruction for the 'youth of France. He 
 drew up, with his own hand, the plan for their schools, and proposed the 
 course of study. It is a little singular that, with his strong scientific predi- 
 lections, he should have assigned the first rank to classical studies. Perhaps 
 this is to be accounted for from his professed admiration of the heroes of an- 
 tiquity. His own mind was thoroughly stored with all the treasures of 
 Greek and Roman story. All these schools were formed upon a military 
 model, for, situated as France was in the midst of monarchies at heart hos- 
 tile, he deemed it necessary that the nation should be universally trained to 
 bear arms. Religious instruction was to be communicated in all these 
 schools by chaplains, military instruction by old officers who had left the 
 army, and classical and scientific instruction by the most learned men Eu- 
 rope could furnish. 
 
 The First Consul also devoted special attention to female schools. " France 
 needs nothing so much to promote her regeneration," said he, " as good 
 mothers." To attract the youth of France to these schools, one million of 
 dollars was appropriated for over six thousand gratuitous exhibitions for the 
 pupils. Ten schools of law were established, nine schools of medicine, and 
 an institution for the mechanical arts, called the " School of Bridges and 
 Roads," the first model of those schools of art which continue in France un- 
 til the present day, and which are deemed invaluable. There were no ex- 
 clusive privileges in these institutions ; a system of perfect equality pervaded 
 them. The pupils of all classes were placed upon a level, with an unob- 
 structed arena before them. " This is only a commencement," said Napo- 
 leon ; " by-and-by we shall do more and better." 
 
 Another project which Napoleon now introduced was vehemently opposed 
 the establishment of the Legion of Honor. One of the leading principles 
 of the Revolution was the entire overthrow of all titles of distinction. Every 
 man, high or low, was to be addressed simply as Citizen. Napoleon wished 
 to introduce a system of rewards which should stimulate to heroic deeds, and 
 ennoble those who had deserved well of humanity. Innumerable foreigners 
 of distinction had thronged France since the peace. He had observed with 
 what eagerness the populace had followed these foreigners, gazing with de- 
 light upon their gay decorations. The court-yard of the Tuileries was ever
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 393 
 
 crowded when these illustrious strangers arrived and departed. Napoleon, 
 in his council, where he was always eloquent and powerful, thus urged his 
 views : 
 
 " Look at these vanities which genius pretends so much to disdain. The 
 populace is not of that opinion. It loves these many-colored ribbons as it 
 loves religious pomp. The democrat philosopher calls it vanity. Vanity 
 let it be ; but that vanity is a weakness common to the whole human race, 
 and great virtues may be made to spring from it. With these so much de- 
 spised baubles heroes are made. There must be worship for the religious 
 sentiment ; there must be visible distinctions for the noble sentiment of glory 
 Nations should not strive to be singular any more than individuals. The af- 
 fectation of acting differently from the rest of the world is an affectation 
 w r hich is reproved by all persons of sense and modesty Ribbons are in use 
 in all countries. Let them be in use in France. It will be one more friend- 
 ly relation established with Europe. Our neighbors give them only to the 
 man of noble birth. I will give them to the man of merit to the one who 
 shall have served best in the army or in the state, or who shall have pro- 
 duced the finest works." 
 
 It was objected that the institution of the Legion of Honor was a return 
 to the aristocracy which the Revolution had abolished. " What is there aris- 
 tocratic," Napoleon exclaimed, " in a distinction purely personal, and merely 
 for life, bestowed on the man who has displayed merit, whether civil or mil- 
 itary bestowed on him alone, bestowed for his life only, and not passing to 
 his children. Such a distinction is the reverse of aristocratic. It is the es- 
 sence of aristocracy that its titles are transmitted from the man who has 
 earned them to the son who possesses no merit. The ancient regime, so 
 battered by the ram of the Revolution, is more entire than is believed. All 
 the emigrants hold each other by the hand ; the Vende'eans are secretly en- 
 rolled ; the priests, at heart, are not very friendly to us. With the words 
 ' legitimate king,' thousands might be roused to arms. It is needful that the 
 men who have taken part in the Revolution should have a bond of union, and 
 cease to depend on the first accident which might strike one single head 
 For ten years we have only been making ruins ; we must now found an edi- 
 fice. Depend upon it, the struggle is not over with Europe. Be assured 
 that struggle will begin again." 
 
 It was then urged by some that the Legion of Honor should be confined 
 entirely to military merit. " By no means," said Napoleon. " Rewards are 
 not to be conferred upon soldiers alone. All sorts of merit are brothers. 
 The courage of thepresident of the Convention resisting the populace, should 
 be compared with the courage of Kleber mounting to the assault of Acre. 
 It is right that civil virtues should have their reward as well as military vir- 
 tues. Those who oppose this course reason like barbarians. It is the re- 
 ligion of brute force they commend to us. Intelligence has its rights before 
 those of force. Force, without intelligence, is nothing. In barbarous ages, 
 the man of stoutest sinews was the chieftain ; now, the general is the most 
 intelligent of the brave. 
 
 " At Cairo, the Egyptians could not comprehend how it was that Kleber, 
 rith his majestic form, was not commander-in-chief. When Mourad Bey
 
 384 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 had carefully observed our tactics, he could comprehend how it was that I, 
 and no other, ought to be the general of an army so conducted. You reason 
 like the Egyptians when you attempt to confine rewards to military valor. 
 The soldiers reason better than you. Go to their bivouacs ; listen to them. 
 Do you imagine that it is the tallest of their officers, and the most imposing 
 by his stature, for whom they feel the highest regard ? Do you imagine 
 even that the bravest stands first in their esteem ? No doubt they would 
 despise the man whose courage they suspected ; but they rank above the 
 merely brave man him whom they consider the most intelligent. 
 
 " As for myself, do you suppose that it is solely because I am reputed a 
 great general that I rule France ? No ! It is because the qualities of a 
 statesman and magistrate are attributed to me. France will never tolerate 
 the government of the sword. Those who think so are strangely mistaken. 
 It would require an abject servitude of fifty years before that could be the 
 case. France is too noble, too intelligent a country to submit to material 
 power. Let us honor intelligence, virtue, the civil qualities ; in short, let us 
 bestow upon them, in all professions, the like reward." 
 
 The true spirit of republicanism is certainly equality of rights, not of at- 
 tainments and honors ; the abolition of hereditary distinctions and privileges, 
 not of those which are founded upon merit. The badge of the Legion of 
 Honor was to be conferred upon all who, by genius, self-denial, and toil, had 
 won renown. The prizes were open to the humblest peasant in the land. 
 Still, the popular hostility to any institution which bore a resemblance to the 
 aristocracy of the ancient nobility was so strong, that, though a majority 
 voted in favor of the measure, there was a strong opposition. Napoleon 
 was surprised. He said to Bourrienne, 
 
 "You are right. Prejudices are still against me. I ought to have waited. 
 There was no occasion for haste in bringing it forward. But the thing is 
 done ; and you will soon find that the taste for these distinctions is not yet 
 gone by. It is a taste which belongs to the nature of man. You will see 
 that extraordinary results will arise from it." 
 
 The order was to consist of six thousand members. It was constituted 
 in four ranks : grand officers, commanders, officers, and private legionaries. 
 The badge was simply a red ribbon in the button-hole. To the first rank 
 there was allotted an annual salary of $1000; to the second, $400; to the 
 third, $200 ; to the fourth, $50. The private soldier, the retired scholar, 
 and the skillful artist were thus decorated with the same badge of distinc- 
 tion which figured upon the breasts of generals, nobles, and monarchs. That 
 this institution w r as peculiarly adapted to the state of France, is evident 
 from the fact that it has survived all the revolutions of subsequent years. 
 "Though of such recent origin," says Thiers, "it is already consecrated as 
 if it had passed through centuries ; to such a degree has it become the rec- 
 ompense of heroism, of knowledge, of merit of every kind so much have its 
 honors been coveted by the grandees and the princes of Europe the most 
 proud of their origin."* 
 
 * The oath administered to those who received the cross of the Legion of Honor was as follows : 
 " I swear, on my honor, to devote myself to the service of the Republic, to the preservation of th 
 integrity of its territory, to the defense of its government, its lawb, and the property by them con.
 
 1802.] 
 
 FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 
 
 385 
 
 The popularity of Napoleon was now unbounded. A very general and 
 earnest disposition was expressed to confer upon the First Consul a magnifi- 
 cent testimonial of the national gratitude a testimonial worthy of the illus- 
 trious man who was to receive it, and of the powerful nation by which it was 
 to be bestowed. The President of the Tribunal thus addressed that body: 
 
 "Among all nations, public honors have been decreed to men who, by 
 splendid actions, have honored their country, and saved it from great dangers 
 What man ever had stronger claims to the national gratitude than General 
 Bonaparte ? His valor and genius have saved the French people from the 
 excesses of anarchy and from the miseries of war ; and France is too great, 
 too magnanimous, to leave such benefits without reward." 
 
 A deputation was immediately chosen to confer with Napoleon upon the 
 subject of the tribute of gratitude and affection which he should receive. 
 Surrounded by his colleagues and the principal officers of the state, he re- 
 ceived them the next day in the Tuileries. With seriousness and modesty 
 he listened to the high eulogium upon his achievements which was pro- 
 nounced, and then replied : 
 
 " I receive with sincere gratitude the wish expressed by the Tribunate. 
 I desire no other glory than that of having completely performed the task 
 imposed upon me. I aspire to no other reward than the affection of my fel- 
 low-citizens. I shall be happy if they are thoroughly convinced that the 
 
 RECEPTION AT THE TUILERIES. 
 
 evils which they may experience will always be to me the severest of mis- 
 fortunes ; that life is dear to me solely for the services which I am able to ren- 
 der to my country ; that death itself will have no bitterness for me, if my last 
 looks can see the happiness of the Republic as firmly secured as is its glory." 
 
 eecrated ; to oppose, by every means which justice, reason, and the laws authorize, all acts tending 
 to re-establish the feudal system, or to revive the titles and distinctions belonging to it ; finally, to 
 contribute, to the utmost of my power, to the maintenance oi' liberty and equality." After the es- 
 tablishment of the Empire, the oath was slightly changed to meet the new order of things.
 
 386 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 But how was Napoleon to be rewarded ? That was the great and difficult 
 question. Was wealth to be conferred upon him ? For wealth he cared 
 nothing. Millions had been at his disposal, and he had emptied them all 
 into the treasury of France. Ease, luxury, self-indulgence had no charms 
 for him. Were monuments to be reared to his honor, titles to be lavished 
 upon his name ? Napoleon regarded these but as means for the accomplish- 
 ment of ends. In themselves they were nothing. The only one thing which 
 he desired was power power to work out vast results for others, and thus 
 to secure for himself renown which should be pure and imperishable. 
 
 But how could the power of Napoleon be increased ? He was already 
 almost absolute. Whatever he willed, he accomplished. Senators, legis- 
 lators, and tribunes all co-operated in giving energy to his plans. It will 
 be remembered that Napoleon was elected First Consul for ten years. It 
 seemed that there was absolutely nothing which could be done, gratifying to 
 the First Consul, but to prolong the term of his consulship, by either adding 
 to it another period of ten years, or by continuing it during his life. "What 
 does he wish?" was the universal inquiry. Every possible means were tried, 
 but in vain, to obtain a single word from his lips significant of his desires. 
 
 One of the senators went to Cambaceres and said, "What would be grat- 
 ifying to General Bonaparte ? Does he wish to be king ? Only let him say 
 so, and we are ready to vote for the re-establishment of royalty. Most will- 
 ingly will we do it for him, for he is worthy of that station." 
 
 But the First Consul shut amself up in impenetrable reserve. Even his 
 most intimate friends could catch no glimpse of his secret wishes. At last 
 the question was plainly and earnestly put to him. 
 
 With great apparent humility, he replied, " I have not fixed my mind 
 upon any thing. Any testimony of the public confidence will be sufficient 
 for me, and will fill me with satisfaction." 
 
 The question was then discussed whether to add ten years to his consul* 
 ship, or to make him First Consul for life. Cambaceres knew well the 
 boundless ambition of Napoleon, and was fully conscious that any limited 
 period of power would not be in accordance with his plans. He ventured 
 to say to him, 
 
 "You are wrong not to explain yourself. Your enemies for, notwith- 
 standing your services, you have some left even in the Senate will abuse 
 your reserve." 
 
 Napoleon calmly replied, " Let them alone. The majority of the Senate 
 ie always ready to do more than it is asked. They will go further than you 
 imagine." 
 
 On the evening of the 8th of May, 1802, the resolution was adopted of 
 prolonging the powers of the First Consul for ten years. Napoleon was 
 probably surprised and disappointed. He, however, decided to return a 
 grateful answer, and to say that not from the Senate, but from the suffrages 
 of the people alone, could he accept a prolongation of that power to which 
 their voices had elevated him. The following answer was transmitted to 
 the Senate the next morning : 
 
 " The honorable proof of your esteem, given in your deliberation of the 
 8th, will remain forever engraven on my heart. In the three years which
 
 1802.] 
 
 FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 
 
 387 
 
 have just elapsed, fortune has smiled upon the Kepublic. But fortune is 
 fickle. How many men whom she has loaded with favors have lived a few 
 years too long. The interest of my glory and that of my happiness would 
 seem to have marked the term of my public life at the moment when the 
 peace of the world is proclaimed ; but the glory and the happiness of the 
 citizen ought to be silent when the interest of the state and the public par- 
 tiality call him. You judge that I 'owe a new sacrifice to the people. I 
 will make it, if the wishes of the people command what your suffrage au- 
 thorizes." 
 
 Napoleon immediately left Paris for his country seat at Malmaison. This 
 beautiful chateau was about twelve miles from the metropolis. Josephine 
 had purchased the peaceful rural retreat at Napoleon's request, during his 
 
 MALMAISON. 
 
 first Italian campaign. Subsequently, large sums had been expended in en- 
 larging and improving the grounds, and it was ever the favorite residence of 
 both Napoleon and Josephine. Cambaceres called an extraordinary meet- 
 ing of the Council of State. After much deliberation, it was resolved, by an
 
 388 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 immense majority, that the following proposition should be submitted to the 
 people : " Shall Napoleon Bonaparte be First Consul for life ?" It was then 
 resolved to submit a second question : " Shall the First Consul have the 
 power of appointing his successor ?" This was, indeed, re-establishing monx 
 archy under a republican name. 
 
 Cambaceres immediately repaired to Malmaison to submit these resolu- 
 tions to Napoleon. To the amazement of all, he immediately and firmly re 
 jected the second question. Energetically he said, 
 
 " Whom would you have me appoint my successor ? My brothers ? But 
 will France, which has consented to be governed by me, consent to be gov- 
 erned by Joseph or Lucien? Shall I nominate you consul, Cambaceres? 
 You ? Dare you undertake such a task ? And then the will of Louis XIV. 
 was not respected ; is it likely that mine would be ? A dead man, let him 
 be who he will, is nobody." In opposition to all urgency, he ordered the 
 second question to be erased, and the first only to be submitted to the peo- 
 ple. It is impossible to divine the motive which influenced Napoleon in this 
 most unexpected decision. Some have supposed that even then he had in 
 view the Empire and the hereditary monarchy, and that he wished to leave 
 a chasm in the organization of the government as a reason for future change. 
 Others have supposed that he dreaded the rivalries which would arise among 
 his brothers and his nephews from his having at his disposal so resplendent 
 a gift as the Empire of France. But the historian treads upon dangerous 
 ground when he begins to judge of motives. That which Napoleon actually 
 did was moderate and noble in the highest degree. He declined the power 
 of appointing his successor, and submitted his election to the suffrages of the 
 people. A majority of 3,568,885 voted for the consulate for life, and only 
 eight thousand and a few hundreds against it. Never before or since was 
 an earthly government established by such unanimity. Never had a mon- 
 arch a more indisputable title to his throne. 
 
 Upon this occasion La Fayette added to his vote these qualifying words : 
 " I can not vote for such a magistracy until public freedom is sufficiently 
 guaranteed. When that is done, I give my voice to Napoleon Bonaparte." 
 In a private conversation with the First Consul, he added, " A free govern- 
 ment, and you at its head that comprehends all my desires." Napoleon 
 remarked, "In theory, La Fayette is perhaps right. But what is theory? 
 A mere dream when applied to the masses of mankind. He thinks he is 
 still in the United States as if the French were Americans. He has no con- 
 ception of what is required for this country." 
 
 A day was fixed for a grand diplomatic festival, when Napoleon should 
 receive the congratulations of the constituted authorities and of the foreign 
 embassadors. The soldiers, in brilliant uniform, formed a double line from 
 the Tuileries to the Luxembourg. The First Consul was seated in a mag- 
 nificent chariot drawn by eight horses. A cortege of gorgeous splendor ac- 
 companied him. All Paris thronged the streets through which he passed, 
 and the most enthusiastic applause rent the heavens. To the congratulatory 
 address of the Senate, Napoleon replied : 
 
 " The life of a citizen belongs to his country. The French nation wishes 
 that mine should be wholly consecrated to France. I obey its will. Through
 
 1802.] 
 
 FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 
 
 389 
 
 ELECTION OF CONSUL FOR LIFE. 
 
 my efforts, by your assistance, citizen senators, by the aid of the authorities, 
 and by the confidence and support of this mighty people, the liberty, equal- 
 ity, and prosperity of France will be rendered secure against the caprices of 
 fate and the uncertainty of futurity. The most virtuous of nations will be 
 the most happy, as it deserves to be ; and its felicity will contribute to the 
 general happiness of all Europe. Proud, then, of being thus called, by the 
 command of that Power from which every thing emanates, to bring back 
 order, justice, and equality to the earth, when my last hour approaches, 1 
 shall yield myself up with resignation, and without any solicitude respecting 
 the opinions of future generations." 
 
 On the following day, the new articles modifying the Constitution in ac- 
 cordance with the change in the consulship were submitted to the Council 
 of State. The First Consul presided, and, with his accustomed vigor and 
 perspicuity, explained the reasons of each article, as he recounted them one 
 by one. The articles contained the provision that Napoleon should nomi-
 
 390 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 nate his successor to the Senate. To this, after a slight resistance, he yield- 
 ed. The most profound satisfaction now pervaded France. Even Josephine 
 began to be tranquil and happy. She imagined that all thoughts of royalty 
 and of hereditary succession had now passed away. She contemplated 
 with no uneasiness the power which Napoleon possessed of choosing his 
 successor. Napoleon sympathized cordially with her in her high gratifica- 
 tion that Hortense was soon to become a mother. This child was already, 
 in their hearts, the selected heir to the power of Napoleon. 
 
 On the 15th of August, Paris magnificently celebrated the anniversary of 
 the birth-day of the First Consul. This was another introduction of mo- 
 narchical usages. All the high authorities of the Church and the state, and 
 the foreign diplomatic bodies, called upon him with congratulations. At 
 noon, in all the churches of the metropolis, a Te Deum was sung, in grati- 
 tude to God for the gift of Napoleon. At night the city blazed with illumi- 
 nations. The splendors and the etiquette of royalty were now rapidly in- 
 troduced, and the same fickle populace, who had so recently trampled princes 
 and thrones into blood and ruin, were now captivated with the reintroduction 
 of these discarded splendors. Napoleon soon established himself in the 
 beautiful chateau of St. Cloud, which he had caused to be repaired with great 
 magnificence. 
 
 On the Sabbath, the First Consul, with Josephine, invariably attended di- 
 vine service. Their example was soon followed by most of the members of 
 the court, and the nation as a body returned to Christianity, which, even in 
 its most corrupt form, saves humanity from those abysses of degradation into 
 which infidelity plunges it. Immediately after divine service he conversed 
 in the gallery of the chateau with the visitors who were then waiting for him. 
 The brilliance of his intellect, and his high renown, caused him to be ap- 
 proached with emotions of awe. His words were listened to with intensest 
 eagerness. He was the exclusive object of observation and attention. No 
 earthly potentate had ever attained such a degree of homage, pure and sin- 
 cere, as now circled around the First Consul. 
 
 Napoleon was very desirous of having his court a model of decorum and 
 of morals. Lucien owned a beautiful mansion near Neuilly. Upon one oc- 
 casion he invited Napoleon, and all the inmates of Malmaison, to attend 
 some private theatricals at his dwelling. Lucien and Eliza were the per- 
 formers in a piece called Alzire. The ardor of their declamation, the free- 
 dom of their gestures, and, above all, the indelicacy of the costume which 
 they assumed, displeased Napoleon exceedingly. As soon as the play was 
 over, .he exclaimed, 
 
 " It is a scandal. I ought not to suffer such indecencies. I will give Lu- 
 cien to understand that I will have no more of it." As soon as Lucien entered 
 the saloon, having resumed his usual dress, Napoleon addressed him before 
 the whole company, and requested him in future to desist from all such rep- 
 resentations. "What !" said he, "when I am endeavoring to restore purity 
 of manners, my brother and sister must needs exhibit themselves upon a 
 platform almost in a state of nudity ! It is an insult !" 
 
 One day at this time, Bourrienne, going from Malmaison to Ruel, lost a 
 beautiful watch. He proclaimed his less by means of the bellman at Ruel.
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 39j 
 
 An hour after, as he was sitting down to dinner, a peasant boy brought him 
 the watch, which he had found on the road. Napoleon heard of the occur- 
 rence. Immediately he instituted inquiries respecting the young man and 
 the family. Hearing a good report of them, he gave the three brothers em- 
 ployment, and amply rewarded the honest lad. " Kindness," says Bourri- 
 enne, "was a very prominent trait in the character of Napoleon." 
 
 If we now take a brief review of what Napoleon had accomplished since 
 his return from Egypt, it must be admitted that the records of the world are 
 to be searched in vain for a similar recital. No mortal man before ever ac- 
 complished so much, or accomplished it so well in so short a time. 
 
 Let us for a moment return to his landing at Frejus on the 8th of October, 
 1799, until he was chosen First Consul for life, in August, 1802, a period of 
 not quite three years. Proceeding to Paris almost alone, he overthrew the 
 Directory and seized the supreme power, restored order into the adminis- 
 tration of government, established a new and very efficient system for the 
 collection of taxes, raised public credit, and supplied the wants of the suf- 
 fering army. By great energy and humanity he immediately terminated the 
 horrors of that unnatural war which had for years been desolating La Ven- 
 dee.. Condescending to the attitude of a suppliant, he implored of Europe 
 peace. 
 
 Europe chose war. By a majestic conception of military combinations, 
 he sent Moreau with a vast army to the Rhine ; stimulated Massena to the 
 most desperate strife at Genoa ; and then, creating as by magic an army 
 from materials which excited but the ridicule of his foes, he climbed, with 
 artillery and horse, and all the munitions of war, the icy pinnacles of the 
 Alps, and fell like an avalanche upon his foes on the plain of Marengo. 
 With far inferior numbers, he snatched the victory from the victors ; and in 
 the exultant hour of the most signal conquest, wrote again from the field of 
 blood imploring peace. His foes, humbled and at his mercy, gladly availed 
 themselves of his clemency, and promised to treat. Perfidiously, they only 
 sought time to regain their strength. He then sent Moreau to Hohen- 
 linden, and beneath the walls of Vienna extorted peace from Continental 
 Europe. 
 
 England still prosecuted the war. The First Consul, by his genius, won 
 the heart of Paul of Russia, secured the affection of Prussia, Denmark, and 
 Sweden, and formed a league of all Europe against the Mistress of the Seas. 
 While engaged in this work, he paid the creditors of the state, established 
 the Bank of France, overwhelmed the highway robbers with utter destruc- 
 tion, and restored security in all the provinces ; cut magnificent communi- 
 cations over the Alps, founded hospitals on their summits, surrounded ex- 
 posed cities with fortifications, opened canals, constructed bridges, created 
 magnificent roads, and commenced the compilation of that civil code which 
 will remain an ever-during monument of his labors and his genius. In op- 
 position to the remonstrances of his best friends, he re-established Chris- 
 tianity, and with it proclaimed perfect liberty of conscience. Public works 
 were every where established to encourage industry. Schools and colleges 
 Were founded. Merit of every kind was stimulated by abundant rewards. 
 
 Vast improvements were made in Paris, and the streets cleaned and irri-
 
 392 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 gated. In the midst of all these cares, he was defending France against the 
 assaults of the most powerful nation on the globe ; and he was preparing, as 
 his last resort, a vast army, to carry the war into the heart of England. 
 Notwithstanding the most atrocious libels with which England was filled 
 against him, his fame shone resplendent through them all, and he was popular 
 with the English people. Many of the most illustrious of the English 
 statesmen advocated his cause. His gigantic adversary, William Pitt, van- 
 quished by the genius of Napoleon, was compelled to retire from the min- 
 istry, and the world was at peace. 
 
 The difficulties, perplexities, and embarrassments which were encountered 
 in these enterprises were infinite. Napoleon says, with that magnanimity 
 which history should recognize and applaud, "We are told that all the First 
 Consul had to look to was to do justice. But to whom was he to do jus- 
 tice ? To the proprietors whom the Revolution had violently despoiled of 
 their properties, for this only, that they had been faithful to their legitimate 
 sovereign, and to the principle of honor which they had inherited from their 
 ancestors, or to those new proprietors who had purchased these domains, 
 adventuring their money on the faith of laws flowing from an illegitimate 
 authority ? Was he to do justice to those Royalist soldiers, mutilated in the 
 fields of Germany, La Vendee, and Quiberon, arrayed under the white stand- 
 ard of the Bourbons, in the firm belief that they were serving the cause of 
 their king against a usurping tyranny, or to the million of citizens who, 
 forming around the frontiers a wall of brass, had so often saved their coun- 
 try from the inveterate hostility of its enemies, and had borne to so trans- 
 cendent a height the glory of the French eagle ? Was he to do justice to 
 that clergy, the model and the example of every Christian virtue, stripped 
 of its birthright, the reward of fifteen hundred years of benevolence, or to 
 the recent acquirers, who had converted the convents into work-shops, the 
 churches into warehouses, and had turned to profane uses all that had been 
 deemed most holy for ages ?" 
 
 "At this period," says Thiers, "Napoleon appeared so moderate after 
 having been so victorious, he showed himself so profound a legislator after 
 having proved himself so great a commander, he evinced so much love for 
 the arts of peace after having excelled in the arts of war, that well might he 
 excite illusions in France and in the world. Only some few among the per- 
 sonages who were admitted to his councils, who were capable of judging 
 futurity by the present, were filled with as much anxiety as admiration on 
 witnessing the indefatigable activity of his mind and body, and the energy 
 of his will, and the impetuosity of his desires. They trembled even at see- 
 ing him do good in the way he did so impatient was he to accomplish it 
 quickly, and upon an immense scale. The wise and sagacious Tronchet, 
 who both admired and loved him, and looked upon him as the savior of 
 France, said, nevertheless, one day, in a tone of deep feeling, to Cambaceres, 
 ' This young man begins like Csesar ; I fear that he will end like him.' " 
 
 " Napoleon," says the Duke of Gae'ta, " on his arrival at power, had one 
 question of immense importance to resolve : for a long time it engrossed his 
 meditations : Would it be possible to maintain a republican form of govern- 
 ment ?
 
 1802.] FIRST CONSUL FOR LIFE. 393 
 
 " The result of that system, thus far, had not been successful with us. 
 The remembrance of the excesses of the Revolution was recent. We were 
 threatened with the renewal of those excesses, with aggravated violence, at 
 the moment in which the fortune of France placed her in the hands of the 
 only man capable of rescuing her from anarchy. But could he hope to con- 
 trol, for any length of time, by the ascendency of his genius, those passions 
 which threatened incessantly the overthrow of all order, if he maintained a 
 political organization which favored their deadly influence ? 
 
 "It is true that this organization has succeeded in the United States. 
 But how great the difference between our situation, moral and physical, and 
 that of a country entirely new, sparsely settled, and of manners generally 
 austere, and which, besides, separated by the ocean from the continent of 
 Europe, excites no fear among those powers that they shall experience any 
 danger from the example of that which passes so far from themselves. But 
 how could they look with tranquillity upon a similar example in a neighbor- 
 ing country, so powerful as France in position and territory ? Was not all 
 Europe, in fact, coalesced against the infant republic ; and was not France 
 at the point of being crushed in the terrible strife when the national will 
 placed the direction of affairs in the hands of Napoleon ? 
 
 " These considerations seem to render more than doubtful the possibility 
 of maintaining the new order of things produced by the Revolution. Obsta- 
 cles of a similar nature would unquestionably oppose the establishment of a 
 monarchy under an illustrious captain elevated from the multitude. It 
 would be equally necessary to prepare for a vigorous resistance to the at- 
 tacks, more or less prolonged, of the ancient European dynasties. These 
 attacks would never yield but to the power of victories. 
 
 " Nevertheless, in approaching as near as possible to the governmental 
 forms of England, a system sanctioned by time, Napoleon flattered himself 
 to be able, with less difficulty, to preserve for the nation the enjoyment of 
 the principal advantages that France had acquired at so high a price, in re- 
 placing her under political forms to which she had long been accustomed, 
 and, on the other hand, to diminish, perhaps, the hostility of the European 
 powers to a new government, whose system would thus, at least, more nearly 
 resemble that which existed among themselves." 
 
 These opinions, recorded by the Duke of Gaeta, will undoubtedly be cher- 
 ished by most thinking men who impartially reflect upon the then condition 
 of France. That Napoleon sincerely adopted them there can be no room for 
 doubt. That they were entertained cordially by the great mass of the French 
 people, is beyond all intelligent denial.
 
 394 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 
 
 Congratulations sent to Napoleon Dissatisfaction of the English Government Peltier, the Bour- 
 bon Pamphleteer The Algerines Violation of the Treaty of Amiens by England Remon- 
 strances of Fox Indignation of Napoleon Defenseless Condition of France Interview with 
 Lord Whitworth England commences the War Testimony of Ingersoll of Thiers of Haz- 
 litt of Scott of Alison of Lockhart Remarks of Napoleon. 
 
 THE elevation of Napoleon to the supreme power for life was regarded by 
 most of the states of Continental Europe with satisfaction, as tending to di- 
 minish the dreaded influences of republicanism, and to assimilate France 
 with the surrounding monarchies. Even in England, the prime minister, 
 Mr. Addington, assured the French embassador of the cordial approbation of 
 the British government of an event destined to consolidate order and power 
 in France. The King of Prussia, the Emperor Alexander, and the Archduke 
 Charles of Austria, sent him their friendly congratulations. Even Catha- 
 rine, the haughty Queen of Naples, mother of the Empress of Austria, being 
 then at Vienna, in ardent expression of her gratification to the French em- 
 bassador, said, " General Bonaparte is a great man. He has done me much 
 injury, but that shall not prevent me from acknowledging his genius. By 
 checking disorder in France he has rendered a service to all of Europe. He 
 has "attained the government of his country because he is most worthy of it. 
 I hold him out every day as a pattern to the young princes of the imperial 
 family. I exhort them to study that extraordinary personage, to learn from 
 him how to direct nations, how to make the yoke of authority endurable by 
 means of genius and glory." 
 
 " It is clear," said Napoleon, " that if we wish for good faith or for perma- 
 nency in our treaties of peace, it is necessary that the governments which 
 surround us should adopt our forms, or that our institutions should become 
 more in harmony with theirs. There must always exist a hostile spirit be- 
 tween the old monarchies and a new republic. Here you see the root of 
 European discord." 
 
 The Duke of Gaeta, to whom Napoleon made this remark, observes, 
 " The First Consul could not more favorably express the end toward which 
 he was disposed to direct his measures (the re-establishment of a monar- 
 chy), and the motives which influenced him in that decision. It was, in his 
 opinion, the only means of obtaining a solid and an abiding peace." 
 
 But difficulties were rapidly rising between England and France. The 
 English were much disappointed in not finding that sale of their manufac- 
 tures which they had anticipated. The cotton and iron manufactures, were 
 the richest branches of industry in England. Napoleon, supremely devoted 
 to the development of the manufacturing resources of France, encouraged 
 those manufactures by the almost absolute prohibition of the rival articles. 
 William Pitt and his partisans, still retaining immense influence, regarded
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 395 
 
 with extreme jealousy the rapid strides which Napoleon was making to 
 power, and incessantly declaimed in the journals against the ambition of 
 France. Most of the Royalist emigrants who had refused to acknowledge 
 the new government, and were still devoted to the cause of the Bourbons, 
 had taken refuge in London. 
 
 They had been the allies with England in the long war against France, 
 The English government could not refrain from sympathizing with them in 
 their sufferings. It would have been ungenerous not to have done so. The 
 emigrants were many of them supported by pensions paid them by England. 
 At the same time, they were constantly plotting conspiracies against the life 
 of Napoleon, and sending assassins to shoot him. " I will yet teach those 
 Bourbons," said Napoleon, in a moment of indignation, " that I am not a 
 man to be shot at like a dog." Napoleon complained bitterly that his ene- 
 mies, then attempting his assassination, were in the pay of the British gov- 
 ernment. Almost daily the plots of these emigrants were brought to light 
 by the vigilance of the French police. 
 
 A Bourbon pamphleteer, named Peltier, circulated widely through En- 
 gland the most atrocious libels against the First Consul, his wife, her chil- 
 dren, his brothers and sisters. They were charged with the most low, de- 
 grading, and revolting vices. These accusations were circulated widely 
 through England and America. They produced a profound impression. 
 They were believed. Many were interested in the circulation of these re- 
 ports, wishing to destroy the popularity of Napoleon, and to prepare the pop- 
 ulace of England for the renewal of the war. Napoleon remonstrated against 
 such infamous representations of his character being allowed in England. 
 But he was informed that the British press was free ; that there was no re- 
 source but to prosecute for libel in the British courts ; and that it was the 
 part of true greatness to treat such slanders with contempt. But Napoleon 
 felt that such false charges were exasperating nations, were paving the way 
 to deluge Europe again in war, and that causes tending to such woes were 
 too potent to be despised. 
 
 The Algerines were now sweeping with their piratic crafts the Mediterra- 
 nean, exacting tribute from all Christian powers. A French ship had been 
 wrecked upon the coast, and the crew were made prisoners. Two French 
 vessels and a Neapolitan ship had also been captured and taken to Algiers. 
 The indignation of Napoleon was aroused. He sent an officer to the Dey 
 with a letter, informing him that if the prisoners were not released and the 
 captured vessels instantly restored, and a promise given to respect in future 
 the flags of France and Italy, he would send a fleet and an army, and over- 
 whelm him with ruin. 
 
 The Dey had heard of Napoleon's career in Egypt. He was thoroughly 
 frightened, restored the ships and the prisoners, implored clemency, and with 
 barbarian injustice doomed to death those who had captured the ships in 
 obedience to his commands. Their lives were saved only through the inter- 
 cession of the French minister. Napoleon then performed one of the most 
 gracious acts of courtesy toward the Pope. The feeble monarch had no 
 means of protecting his coasts from the pirates who still swarmed in those seas. 
 Napoleon selected two fine brigs in the naval arsenal at Toulon, equipped
 
 396 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 them with great elegance, armed them most effectively, filled them with na- 
 val stores, and conferring upon them the apostolical names of St. Peter and 
 St. Paul, sent them as a present to the pontiff. With characteristic grandeur 
 of action, he carried his attentions so far as to send a cutter to bring back 
 the crews, that the papal treasury might be exposed to no expense. The 
 venerable Pope, in the exuberance of his gratitude, insisted upon taking the 
 French seamen to Rome. He treated them with every attention in his pow- 
 er ; exhibited to them St. Peter's, and dazzled them with the pomp and 
 splendor of cathedral worship. They returned to France loaded with pres- 
 ents, and exceedingly gratified with the kindness with which they had been 
 received. 
 
 It was stipulated in the treaty of Amiens that both England and France 
 should evacuate Egypt, and that England should surrender Malta to its an- 
 cient rulers. Malta, impregnable in its fortifications, commanded the Med- 
 iterranean, and was the key of Egypt. Napoleon had therefore, while he 
 professed a willingness to relinquish all claim to the island himself, insisted 
 upon it, as an essential point, that England should do the same. The ques- 
 tion upon which the treaty hinged was the surrender of Malta to a neutral 
 power. The treaty was signed. Napoleon promptly and scrupulously ful- 
 filled his agreements. Several embarrassments, for which England was not 
 responsible, delayed for a few months the evacuation of Malta. But now 
 nearly a year had passed since the signing of the treaty. All obstacles were 
 removed from the way of its entire fulfillment, and yet the troops of England 
 remained both in Egypt and in Malta. The question was seriously dis- 
 cussed in Parliament and in the English journals, whether England were 
 bound to fulfill her engagements, since France was growing so alarmingly 
 powerful. 
 
 Generously and eloquently Fox exclaimed, " I am astonished at all I hear, 
 particularly when I consider who they are that speak such words. Indeed, I 
 am more grieved than any of the honorable friends and colleagues of Mr. 
 Pitt at the growing greatness of France, which is daily extending her pow- 
 er in Europe and in America. That France, now accused of interfering 
 with the concerns of others, we invaded, for the purpose of forcing upon her 
 a government to which she would not submit, and of obliging her to accept 
 the family of the Bourbons, whose yoke she spurned. By one of those sub- 
 lime movements which history should recommend to imitation, and preserve 
 in eternal memorial, she repelled her invaders. Though warmly attached to 
 the cause of England, we have felt an involuntary movement of sympathy 
 with that generous outburst of liberty, and we have no desire to conceal it. 
 No doubt France is great, much greater than a good Englishman ought to 
 wish, but that ought not to be a motive for violating solemn treaties. Bui 
 because France now appears too great to us greater than we thought her 
 at first to break a solemn engagement, to retain Malta, for instance, would 
 be an unworthy breach of faith which would compromise the honor of Brit- 
 ain. I am sure that if there were in Paris an assembly similar to that which 
 is debating here, the British navy and its dominion over the seas would be 
 talked of in the same terms as we talk in this house of the French armies, 
 and their dominion over the land."
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 397 
 
 Napoleon sincerely wished for peace. He was constructing vast works 
 to embellish and improve the empire. Thousands of workmen were em- 
 ployed in cutting magnificent roads across the Alps. He was watching, 
 with intense interest, the growth of fortifications and the excavation of ca- 
 nals. He was in the possession of absolute power, was surrounded by uni- 
 versal admiration, and, in the enjoyment of profound peace, was congratu- 
 lating himself upon being the pacificator of Europe. He had disbanded his 
 armies, and was consecrating all the resources of the nation to the stimula- 
 tion of industry. He therefore left no means of forbearance and concilia- 
 tion untried to avert the calamities of war. 
 
 He received Lord Whitworth, the English embassador in Paris, with 
 great distinction. The most delicate attentions were paid to his lady, the 
 Duchess of Dorset. Splendid entertainments were given at the Tuileries 
 and at St. Cloud in their honor. Talleyrand consecrated to them all the re- 
 sources of his courtly and elegant manners. The two associate consuls, 
 Cambaceres and Lebrun, were also unwearied in attentions. Still, all these 
 efforts on the part of Napoleon to securo friendly relations with England 
 were unavailing. The British government still, in open violation of the 
 treaty, retained Malta. The honor of France was at stake in enforcing the 
 sacredness of treaties. Malta was too important a post to be left in the 
 hands of England. At last, England boldly demanded the evacuation of 
 Holland by the French, and the entire surrender of Malta to the court of St. 
 James. Napoleon was exceedingly indignant. He exclaimed, " The days 
 of the Pompadours* and Du Barryst are over. The French wish sincerely 
 for peace, but for a peace becoming honorable men." Napoleon resolved to 
 have a personal interview himself with Lord Whitworth^ and to explain to 
 him, with all frankness, his sentiments and his resolves. 
 
 It was on the evening of the 18th of February, 1803, that Napoleon re- 
 ceived Lord Whitworth in his cabinet in the Tuileries. A large writing- 
 table occupied the middle of the room. Napoleon invited the embassador 
 to take a seat at one end of the table, and seated himself at the other. " I 
 have wished," said he, " to converse with you in person, that I may fully 
 convince you of my real opinions and intentions." Then, with that force of 
 language and that perspicuity which no man ever excelled, he recapitulated 
 his transactions with England from the beginning ; that he had offered peace 
 immediately upon his accession to the consulship ; that peace had been re- 
 fused ; that eagerly he had renewed negotiations, as soon as he could with 
 any propriety do so ; and that he had made great concessions to secure the 
 peace of Amiens. 
 
 " But my efforts," said he, " to live on good terms with England have met 
 with no friendly response. The English newspapers breathe but animosity 
 
 * Jeanne Antoinette, Marchioness of Pompadour, mistress of Louis XV. She first attracted the 
 king's notice when he was hunting in the forest of Setiart. She finally obtained almost boundless 
 power over the mind of the king, and many of the evils which oppressed France are attributed to 
 the power which she possessed of filling tlio most important offices of the state with her favorites. 
 
 t Marie Jeanne Gomart de Vaubernier, Countess of Barry, the successor of the Marchioness of 
 Pompadour in the guilty love of Louis XV. She acquired prodigious influence at court, and con- 
 ferred the power and the revenues of the empire upon her favorites. During the Revolution she 
 perished miserably upon the guillotine. 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 398 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE BRITISH EMBASSADOR. 
 
 against me. The journals of the emigrants are allowed a license of abuse 
 which is not justified by the British Constitution. Pensions are granted to 
 Georges and his accomplices who are plotting my assassination. The emi- 
 grants, protected in England* are continually making excursions to France 
 to stir up civil war. The Bourbon princes are received with the insignia of 
 the ancient royalty. Agents are sent to Switzerland and Italy to raise up 
 difficulties against France. Every wind which blows from England brings 
 me but hatred and insult. Now we have come to a situation from which 
 we must relieve ourselves. Will you or will you not execute the treaty of 
 Amiens ? I have executed it on my part with scrupulous fidelity. That 
 treaty obliged me to evacuate Naples, Tarento, and the Roman States with- 
 in three months. In less than two months all the French troops were out 
 of those countries. Ten months have elapsed since the exchange of the rat- 
 ifications, and the English troops are still in Malta and at Alexandria. It is 
 useless to try to deceive me on this point. Will you have peace or will you 
 have war ? If you are for war, only say so ; we will wage it unrelentingly. 
 If you wish for peace, you must evacuate Alexandria and Malta. 
 
 " The rock of Malta, on which so many fortifications have been erected, 
 is, in a maritime point of view, an object of great importance ; but, in my 
 estimation, it has an importance infinitely greater, inasmuch as it implicates 
 the honor of France. What would the world say if we were to allow a 
 solemn treaty signed with us to be violated ? It would doubt our energy. 
 For my part, my resolution is fixed. I had rather see you in possession of 
 the Heights of Montmartre than in possession of Malta. 
 
 " If you doubt my desire to preserve peace, listen, and judge how far I 
 am sincere. Though yet very young, I have obtained a power, a renown, 
 to which it would be difficult to add. Do you imagine that I am solicitous 
 to risk this power, this renown, in a desperate struggle ? If I have a war 
 with Austria, I shall contrive to find the way to Vienna. If I have a war
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 399 
 
 with you, I will take from you every ally upon the Continent. You will 
 blockade us ; but I will blockade you in my turn. You will make the Con- 
 tinent a prison for us, but I will make the seas a prison for you. However, 
 to conclude the war, there must be more direct efficiency. There must be 
 assembled 150,000 men and an immense flotilla. We must try to cross the 
 Strait, and perhaps I shall bury in the depths of the sea my fortune, my glory, 
 my life. It is an awful temerity, my lord, the invasion of England." 
 
 Here, to the amazement of Lord Whitworth, Napoleon enumerated frank- 
 ly and powerfully all the perils of the enterprise ; the enormous preparations 
 it would be necessary to make of ships, men, and munitions of war; the diffi- 
 culty of eluding the. English fleet. "The chance that we shall perish," said 
 he, "is vastly greater than the chance that we shall succeed. Yet this te- 
 merity, my lord, awful as it is, I am determined to hazard, if you force me to 
 it. I will risk my army and my life. With me that great enterprise will 
 have chances which it can hot have with any other. See now if I ought, 
 prosperous, powerful, and peaceful as I now am, to risk power, prosperity, 
 and peace in such an enterprise. Judge if, when I say I am desirous of 
 peace, I am not sincere. 
 
 " It is better for you, it is better for me, to keep within the limits of treat- 
 ies. You must evacuate Malta. You must not harbor my assassins in En- 
 gland. Let me be abused, if you please, by the English journals, but not 
 by those miserable emigrants who dishonor the protection you grant them, 
 and whom the Alien Act permits you to expel from the country. Act cor- 
 dially with me, and I promise you, on my part, an entire cordiality. See what 
 pow r er we should exercise over the world if we could bring our two nations 
 together. You have a navy which, with the incessant efforts of ten years, 
 in the employment of all my resources, I should not be able to equal. But 
 I have 500,000 men ready to march under my command whithersoever I 
 choose to lead them. If you are masters of the seas, I am master of the land. 
 Let us, then, think of uniting rather than of going to war, and we shall rule 
 at pleasure the destinies of the world. France and England united can do 
 every thing for the interests of humanity." 
 
 England, however, still refused, upon one pretense and another, to yield 
 Malta; and both parties were growing more and more exasperated, and were 
 gradually preparing for the renewal of hostilities. Napoleon, at times, gave 
 very free utterance to his indignation. 
 
 " Malta," said he, " gives the dominion of the Mediterranean. Nobody 
 will believe that I consent to surrender the Mediterranean to the English 
 unless I fear their power. I thus lose the most important sea in the world, 
 and the respect of Europe. I will fight to the last for the possession of the 
 Mediterranean ; and if I once get to Dover, it is all over with those tyrants 
 of the seas. Besides, as we must fight, sooner or later, with a people to 
 whom the greatness of France is intolerable, the sooner the better. I am 
 young. The English are in the wrong, more so than they will ever be again. 
 I had rather settle the matter at once. They shall not have Malta." 
 
 Still Napoleon assented to the proposal for negotiating with the English 
 for the cession of some other island in the Mediterranean. "Let them ob- 
 tain a port to put into," said he ; "to that I have no objection. But I am
 
 400 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 determined that they shall not have two Gibraltars in that sea one at the 
 entrance, and one at the middle." To this proposition, however, England 
 refused assent. 
 
 Napoleon then proposed that the island of Malta should be placed in the 
 hands of the Emperor of Russia, leaving it with him in trust till the discus- 
 sions between France and England were decided. It had so happened that 
 the Emperor had just offered his mediation, if that could be available, to pre- 
 vent a war. This the English government also declined, upon the plea that 
 it did not think that Russia would be willing to accept the office thus im- 
 posed upon her. The English embassador now received instructions to de- 
 mand that France should cede Malta to England for ten years ; and that 
 England, by way of compensation, would recognize the Italian Republic. 
 The embassador was ordered to apply for his passports if these conditions 
 were not accepted within seven days. To this insulting proposition France 
 would not accede. The English minister demanded his passports and left 
 France. Immediately the English fleet commenced its attack upon French 
 merchant-ships, wherever they could be found ; and the world was again 
 deluged in war. 
 
 No fact in history can be more conclusively proved than that Napoleon 
 was not responsible for the rupture of the peace of Amiens. As the settle- 
 ment of this question is a matter of much moment, we will introduce some 
 additional testimony. 
 
 Napoleon, at St. Helena, said, "At Amiens I sincerely thought that the 
 fate of France and of Europe, and my own destiny, were permanently fixed. 
 The English cabinet, however, again kindled the flame of war. England is 
 alone responsible for all the miseries with which Europe has since been as- 
 sailed. For my part, I intended to devote myself wholly to the internal in- 
 terests of France. I am confident that I should have wrought miracles. I 
 should have lost nothing in the scale of glory, and I should have gained 
 much in the scale of happiness. 1 should then have achieved the moral con- 
 quest of Europe, which I was afterward on the point of accomplishing by the 
 force of arms. Of how much glory was I thus deprived ! My enemies al- 
 ways spoke of my" love of war. But was I not constantly engaged in self- 
 defense ? After every victory I gained, did I not immediately make pro- 
 posals for peace ? 
 
 " The truth is, I never was master of my own actions. I never was en- 
 tirely myself. I might have conceived many plans, but I never had it in my 
 power to execute any. I held the reins with a vigorous hand, but the fury 
 of the waves was greater than any force I could exert in resisting them. I 
 prudently yielded rather than incur the risk of sinking through stubborn op- 
 position. I was never truly my own master, but was always controlled by 
 circumstances. Thus, at the commencement of my rise, during the consu- 
 late, my sincere friends and warm partisans frequently asked me, with the 
 best intentions, and as a guide for their own conduct, what point I was driv- 
 ing at. I always answered that I did not know. They were surprised- 
 probably dissatisfied ; and yet I spoke the truth. Subsequently, during the 
 Empire, when there was less familiarity, many faces seemed to put the same 
 question to me. I might still have given the same reply. In fact, I was not
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 401 
 
 master of my own actions, because I was not foolish enough to attempt to 
 twist events into conformity with my system. On the contrary, I moulded 
 my system according to the unforeseen succession of events. This often ap- 
 peared like unsteadiness and inconsistency, and of this fault I was some- 
 times unjustly accused." 
 
 The Hon. Charles J. Ingersoll says, " The facts, as understood in Paris at 
 the time, were, that England, mortified by the treaty of Amiens and French 
 Republican progress, resolved on renewal of war, on which the re-establish- 
 ment of Tory complete ascendency depended, \viih restoration of Pitt as 
 prime minister. Bonaparte was well aware of the British government's de- 
 termination to renew hostilities, and desire of pretexts for the rupture."* 
 
 Thiers says, "After mature reflection, we can not condemn France for this 
 renewal of the conflict between the two nations. The First Consul, on this 
 occasion, conducted with perfect good faith. Unfortunately, a weak admin- 
 istration, desirous of preserving peace, but fearing the war party, alarmed at 
 the noise which was made about Switzerland, committed the blunder of 
 countermanding the evacuation of Malta. From that moment peace was ir- 
 revocably sacrificed ; for the rich prize of Malta, once held forth to British 
 ambition, could not possibly be refused to it afterward. The promptness 
 and moderation of the French intervention in Switzerland having put an end 
 to the grievance made out of it, the British cabinet would have been very 
 glad to evacuate Malta, but durst not. The First Consul summoned it, in 
 the language of justice and wounded pride, to execute the treaty of Amiens. 
 Summons after summons led to the deplorable rupture which we have just 
 recorded."! 
 
 William Hazlitt says, "Great Britain declared war against France the 
 18th of May, 1803. Period ever fatal and memorable ! the commencement 
 of another Iliad of woes, not to be forgotten while the world shall last ! The 
 former war had failed, and the object of this was to make another desperate 
 effort to put down, by force of arms, at every risk, the example of a revolution 
 w r hich had overturned a hateful but long-established tyranny, and which had 
 hitherto been successful over every attempt to crush it, by external or in- 
 ternal means. 
 
 " Of all the fictions that were made use of to cloak this crying iniquity, 
 the pleas of justice and humanity were the most fallacious. No very great 
 ceremony was employed on the present occasion, but ratheT a cavalier and 
 peremptory tone was encouraged. Malta was merely a criminal pretext. 
 The encroachments of France, and the extension of its influence since the 
 conclusion of the treaty, were said to endanger our possessions in India, and 
 to require Malta as an additional security. But had we not extended our 
 conquests in India in the mean time ? Or would this have been held a valid 
 plea if the French had broken off the treaty on that ground ? But we our- 
 selves are always exceptions to the rules we impose magisterially upon 
 others."}: 
 
 * Ingersoll's Second War, vol. i., p. 203. 
 
 ( L For a full account of this transaction, see Thiers 1 Consulate and Empire, vol. i., p. 499. 
 J "In order to put ourselves into a situation to judge impartially in this case, and to see on which 
 side the impediments to peace and amity lay, let us for a moment reverse the picture, and turn the
 
 402 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott says, " The English ministry lowered their claim of re- 
 taining Malta in perpetuity to the right of holding it for ten years. Bona- 
 parte, on the other hand, would listen to no modification of the treaty of 
 Amiens, but offered, as the guarantee afforded by the occupation of Nea- 
 politan troops was objected to, that the garrison should consist of Russians 
 or Austrians. To this proposal Britain would not accede. Lord Whitworth 
 left Paris, and on the 18th of May, 1803, Britain declared war against France. 
 
 tables the other way. Let us suppose that, from the cessation of hostilities, a system of unqualified 
 abuse and unsparing ribaldry had commenced on the other side of the water, against the English 
 nation and government, and that his majesty, King George III., had been daily accused of the most 
 shocking public and private vices, and his name coupled with epithets that can not be repeated ; that 
 the females of the royal family had been held up to opprobrium and contempt, as engaged in the 
 grossest and most scandalous intrigues ; that, on application being made to put a stop to the evil, 
 the only redress that could be obtained was an appeal to a court of justice, where all the charges 
 were insisted on with a double relish and acrimony, amid a shout of exultation and jubilee from the 
 whole venal press. 
 
 " Let us suppose that the ruling monarch of this country had been, without the intermission of 
 a day, taunted with the mention of his constitutional malady, and with his being the descendant of 
 a petty German elector. Let us suppose the surviving branches of the Stuart family to be main- 
 tained in France at the public expense, and their pretensions to the throne of England sometimes 
 broadly insinuated, never clearly disavowed, but kept in a doubtful state, to be brought forward at a 
 moment's warning ; that bands of organized rebels and assassins, in the pay of these princes, hov- 
 ered constantly on the English coast to excite insurrection, and glided even into royal palaces ; that 
 they had several times attempted the life of the king, but that they were still in the same favor, and 
 kept up a clandestine intercourse with the republican government. 
 
 " Let us suppose that remonstrances were made against these proceedings, which were received 
 with official coldness and contempt ; but let us suppose it to have been considered as a mark of 
 want of zeal and devotion to the person and government of the First Consul for a Frenchman to 
 visit England, or to be introduced at the English court ; let us suppose every advance toward con- 
 fidence or cordiality to be carefully shunned, every handle for recrimination or distrust to be eagerly 
 seized upon ; that the articles of the pretended treaty for peace were executed slowly, one by one ; 
 that the reluctance to conclude it evidently increased in proportion to the delays that had taken 
 place ; that at last, when the farce could be kept up no longer, it was suddenly put an end to by a 
 flat refusal to execute one of the stipulations, and by forged rumors of preparations in the ports of 
 England to invade France who would have asked in that case on which side the bar to peace lay, 
 or which government harbored a rooted and rancorous desire for the renewal of the war 1 But it 
 may be said there was a difference between Napoleon Bonaparte and George III. Yes, it was on 
 that difference that the whole question turned. It was the sense of degradation, and of the com- 
 promise of the kingly dignity in condescending to make peace, on a friendly and equal footing, 
 with an individual who had risen from the people, and who had no power over them but from the 
 services he had rendered them, that produced a repugnance, amounting to loathing, to a peace with 
 the republic that plunged us into all the horrors and calamities of war, and brought us back, in 
 the end, to the arms and to the blessings of legitimate government ! Persons who are fond of 
 dwelling on the work of retribution might perhaps trace its finger here. The monarch survived 
 the accomplishment of all his wishes, but without knowing that they had been accomplished. To 
 those who long after passed that way, at whatever hour of the night, a light shone from one of the 
 watch-towers of Windsor Castle : it was from the chamber of a king, old, blind, bereft of reason, 
 with double darkness bound, of body and mind. Nor was that film ever removed, nor those eyes or 
 that understanding restored, to hail the sacred triumph of kings over mankind ; but the light stream- 
 ed and streamed, indicating no dawn within, for long years after the celebration of that day which 
 gladdened the hearts of monarchs and of menial nations, and through that second night of slavery 
 which succeeded the work of a single breast, which it had dearly accomplished in darkness, in 
 self-oblivion, and in more than kingly solitude." Hazlitt's Napoleon, vol. ii., p. 248-252. 
 
 Unquestionably there is the commencement of retribution even in this life. But prosperity a 
 not always the test of Divine approval. Still, when our enemies meet with reverses, we are evei 
 ready to cry out, " It is a judgment." When calamities befall our friends, we more devoutly ex- 
 claim, " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." Napoleon breathed his last upon the rock of St 
 Helena. George III. descended to the tomb through dreary years of blindness and insanity.
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 403 
 
 The bloody war which succeeded the short peace of Amiens originated, to 
 use the words of the satirist, in high words, jealousies, and fears. There 
 was no special or determinate cause of quarrel, which could be removed by ex- 
 planation, apology, or concession." 
 
 Mr. Lockhart remarks, " On the 18th of May, Great Britain declared war. 
 Orders had previously been given for seizing French shipping wherever it 
 could be found. It is said that two hundred vessels, containing property to 
 the amount of three millions sterling ($15,000,000), had been laid hold of 
 accordingly ere the proclamation of hostilities reached Paris. Whether^ the 
 custom of thus unceremoniously seizing private property under such cir- 
 cumstances be right or wrong, there can be no doubt that the custom had 
 been long established, acted upon by England on all similar occasions, and 
 of course considered, after the lapse of ages and the acquiescence of innu- 
 merable treaties, as part and parcel of the European system of warfare." 
 
 Sir Archibald Alison says, "Upon coolly reviewing the circumstances 
 under which the contest was renewed, it is impossible to deny that the Brit- 
 ish government manifested a feverish desire to come to a rupture, and that, 
 so far as the transactions between the two countries are concerned, they are 
 the aggressors." 
 
 In noble words, which will meet with a response in every generous heart, 
 Napoleon said to his ministers, in view of this new outburst of war, " Since 
 the English wish to force us to leap the ditch, we will leap it. They may 
 take some of our frigates or our colonies, but I will carry terror into the 
 streets of London. I give them warning that they will bewail the end of 
 this war with tears of blood. The ministers have made the King of England 
 tell a lie in the face of Europe. There were no armaments going on in 
 France. There has been no negotiation. They have not transmitted to me 
 a single note. Lord Whitworth could not help acknowledging it. And yet 
 it is by the aid of such vile insinuations that a government seeks to excite 
 the passions. For the last two months I have endured all sorts of insults 
 from the English government. I have let them fill up the measure of their 
 offenses. They have construed that into feebleness, and have redoubled 
 their presumption to the point of making their embassador say, ' Do so and 
 so, or I shall depart in seven days? Is it thus that they address a great 
 nation ? 
 
 " He was requested to write, and that his note would be laid before the 
 eyes of government. 'No,' was the reply; ' I have orders to communicate 
 only verbally.' Is not this an unheard of form of negotiating? Does it not 
 show a marked determination to shuffle, equivocate, play at fast and loose 
 as they please, and leave no proof against themselves ? But if they falsify 
 facts, what proof can be placed in their sincerity in other respects ? They 
 are deceived if they think to dictate laws to forty millions of people. They 
 have been led to believe that I dreaded war lest it should shake my au- 
 thority. I will raise two millions of men if it be necessary. The result of 
 the first war has been to aggrandize France by the addition of Belgium and 
 Piedmont The result of this will be to consolidate our federative system 
 still more firmly. The bond of union between two great nations can be no 
 other than justice and the observation of treaties. The one toward which
 
 404 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXV. 
 
 they are violated can not, ought not to suffer it, under pain of degradation. 
 Let her but once give way, and she is lost. It would be better for the 
 French people to bend to the yoke, and erect the throne of the King of En- 
 gland in Paris, than to submit to the caprices and arbitrary pretensions of 
 her government. 
 
 " One day they will demand the salute from our vessels, another they will 
 forbid our navigators to pass beyond such a latitude. Already, even, they 
 observe with jealousy that we are clearing out our harbors and re-establish- 
 ing our marine. They complain of it ; they demand guarantees. A short 
 time ago the Vice-admiral Lesseignes touched at Malta. He had no ships 
 with him. He found fifteen English ones there. They wanted him to fire 
 a salute. Lesseignes refused. Some words passed. If he had yielded, I 
 would have had him carried in procession on an ass, which is a mode of pun- 
 ishment more ignominious than the guillotine. I flatter myself that when 
 our conduct shall be made known, there is not a corner of Europe in which 
 it will not meet with approbation. When England consented to a peace, 
 she thought that we should tear one another to pieces in the interior that 
 the generals would give France trouble. The English have done all they 
 could, but their intrigues of every kind have been in vain. Every one has 
 occupied himself only in repairing his losses. A little sooner or little later 
 we must have had war. It is best to have it at once, before our maritime 
 commerce is restored." 
 
 When these events were communicated to the Legislative Body, M. Fon- 
 taine thus addressed them : 
 
 " France is ready to cover herself once more with those arms which have 
 conquered Europe. It is not France which will declare war, but she will 
 accept the challenge without fear, and will know how to maintain it with 
 energy. Our country is become anew the centre of civilized Europe. En- 
 gland can no longer say that she is defending the indispensable principles of 
 society, menaced to its foundations. It is we who may hold this language if 
 war is rekindled. It is we who shall then have to avenge the right of na 
 tions and the cause of humanity, in repelling the unjust attacks of a govern- 
 ment that negotiates to deceive, that asks for peace to prepare for war, and 
 that signs treaties only to break them. If the signal is once given, France 
 will rally, by a unanimous movement, around the hero she admires. All the 
 parties whom he keeps in order near him will only dispute who shall mani- 
 fest most zeal and courage. All feel the want of his genius, and acknowl- 
 edge that he alone can sustain the weight and grandeur of our new destinies." 
 
 The Duke of Gae'ta, who was one of the most prominent members of Na- 
 poleon's council, in his very interesting memoirs, speaks of Napoleon's earn- 
 est and uninterrupted efforts to promote peace, and of the efforts of the Allies 
 to represent him as provoking war. "It is thus," says h^, "that malevo- 
 lence attempts to tarnish the reputation of Napoleon. No one can be igno- 
 rant that Napoleon's most earnest desire, upon his attainment of power, was 
 to secure peace with England, and that he was invariably repulsed in all his 
 advances. In the midst of negotiations which he hoped would lead to peace, 
 Mr. Dundas, the English Secretary of State, informed Monsieur Otto, Com- 
 missary of the French Republic, that
 
 1803.] RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 405 
 
 " ' It was the decision of the King of England that the orders to capture 
 and destroy the boats of the French fishermen, and to make their crews 
 prisoners of war, should anew be put into execution.' 
 
 " As soon as the First Consul was informed of this, he ordered the French 
 Commissioner to leave London, and to communicate, on his departure, the 
 following note to the British government : 
 
 " ' The undersigned, having transmitted to his government the declaration 
 of the British minister, which announces that the French fishermen are to be 
 pursued and captured a declaration in virtue of which many barks and fish- 
 ing boats have already been taken, the First Consul ha's considered that, since 
 this act of the British government, contrary to the usages of civilized na- 
 tions, and also to the laws which govern them, even in times of war, must 
 give to the actual war an aspect of bitterness and fury unparalleled, and also 
 exasperate still more the two nations, and put at a still greater distance the 
 period of peace, therefore the undersigned can no longer remain in a coun- 
 try where not only all disposition toward peace is abjured, but where even 
 the laws and usages of war are violated and contemned. The undersigned 
 
 O o 
 
 has consequently received orders to leave England, where he finds a further 
 residence entirely useless. He is, at the same time, charged to declare that 
 the French government, having had always for itsjirst desire to contribute to 
 a general peace, and for its maxim to mitigate, as far as possible, the calami- 
 ties of war, can not consent, on its part, to render poor fishermen the victims 
 of prolonged hostilities. It will, on the contrary, abstain Jrom all reprisals, 
 and it has ordered the armed ships of France to continue to leave all fisher- 
 men free and unmolested? " 
 
 On the 20th of May, Napoleon, in the following proclamation, announced 
 to France the rupture of the peace of Amiens. 
 
 "We are forced to make war, to repel an unjust aggression. We will do 
 so with glory. If the King of England is resolved to keep Great Britain in 
 a state of war till France shall recognize his right of executing or violating 
 treaties at his pleasure, as well as the privilege of outraging the French gov- 
 ernment in official and private publications, without allowing us to complain, 
 we must mourn for the fate of humanity. We assuredly wish to leave to 
 our descendants the French name honored and without a stain. Whatever 
 may be the circumstances, we shall, on all occasions, leave it to England to 
 take the initiative in all proceedings of violence against the peace and inde- 
 pendence of nations ; and she shall receive from us an example of th?.t mod- 
 eration which alone can afford any real security for social order and public 
 happiness." 
 
 Napoleon, at St. Helena, in speaking of the injustice of this unprovoked 
 and wanton attack, remarked, " During the past four years I had reunited 
 all the parties into which France had been divided before my accession to 
 power. The list of emigrants was closed. I had at first marked, then 
 erased, and finally granted an amnesty to all those who wished to return to 
 their country. All their existing and unsold property had been restored, 
 with the exception of the forests, of which the law assigned them the rev- 
 enues. There no longer remained on that list any names except those of 
 * Chroniques Contemporaries, par M. Gaudin, Due de Gacte, p. 126.
 
 406 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 persons immediately attached to the princes of the house of Bourbon, who 
 did not wish to take advantage of the amnesty. Thousands upon thousands 
 of the emigrants had returned, and been subjected to no other conditions 
 than the oath of fidelity and obedience to the Republic. These laws effect- 
 ed great amelioration in public affairs. They, however, were accompanied 
 by the inevitable inconvenience of imboldening, by their very mildness and 
 indulgence, the foes of the consular government the Royalist party and our 
 foreign enemies." 
 
 The English government, with insults, rejected Napoleon's overtures for 
 peace when he ascended the consular throne. At last, intimidated by the 
 clamor of the English people, the government reluctantly made peace. But, 
 watching for an opportunity to renew the war, the English government vio- 
 lated the most solemn stipulations of the treaty of Amiens, seized two hund- 
 red French vessels, containing fifteen millions of dollars, and commenced 
 the annihilation of French commerce before her declaration of hostilities had 
 time to reach Paris. Then, to defame the character of that great man who 
 nobly roused his country to self-defense, she filled the world with the cry 
 that Napoleon, through insatiate ambition and c bloodthirsty spirit, had pro- 
 voked the war. This deed of infamy can not be painted in colors too black. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 
 
 Verdfct of History Power of England Seizure of French Ships Retaliatory Seizure of English 
 Travelers Preparations for the Invasion of England Tour through Belgium Plans for cross- 
 ing the Straits of Dover The young English Sailor The Secretary The Camp at Boulogne 
 Consternation of England Testimony of Wellington Plans for the Assassination of Bona- 
 parte. 
 
 IMPARTIAL history, without a dissenting voice, must award the responsi- 
 bility of the rupture of the peace of Amiens to the government of Great Brit- 
 ain. Napoleon had nothing to hope for from war, and every thing to fear. 
 The only way in which he could even approach his formidable enemy was 
 by crossing the sea and invading England. He acknowledged, and the 
 world knew, that such an enterprise was an act of desperation. England 
 was the undisputed mistress of the seas, and no naval power could stand be- 
 fore her ships. The voice of poetry was the voice of truth 
 
 " Britannia needs no bulwarks to frown along the steep, 
 , Her march is on the mountain-wave, her home is on the deep." 
 
 England, with her invincible navy, could assail France in every quarter. 
 She could sweep the merchant ships of the infant republic from the ocean, 
 and appropriate to herself the commerce of all climes. Thus war proffered 
 to England security and wealth. It promised the commercial ruin of a 
 dreaded rival, whose rapid strides toward opulence and power had excited 
 the most intense alarm. The temptation thus presented to the British cab- 
 inet to renew the war was powerful in the extreme. It required more virtue 
 than ordinarily falls to the lot of cabinets to resist. Unhappily for suffering 
 humanity, England yielded to the temptation, She refused to fulfill the
 
 1803.] THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 407 
 
 stipulations of a treaty solemnly ratified, retained possession of Malta in 
 violation of her plighted faith, and renewed the assault upon France. 
 
 In a communication which Napoleon made to the legislative bodies just 
 before the rupture, he said, " Two parties contend in England for the pos- 
 session of power. One has concluded a peace. The other cherishes im- 
 placable hatred against France. Hence arises this fluctuation in councils 
 and in measures, and this attitude, at one time pacific and again menacing 
 While this strife continues, there are measures which prudence demands of 
 the government of the Republic. Five hundred thousand men ought to be, 
 and will be, ready to defend our country and to avenge insult. Strange ne- 
 cessity, which wicked passions impose upon two nations, who should be, by 
 the same interests and the same desires, devoted to peace ! But let us hope 
 for the best, and believe that we shall yet hear from the cabinet of England 
 the counsels of wisdom and the voice of humanity." 
 
 When Mr. Fox was in Paris, he was one day, with Napoleon and several 
 other gentlemen, in the gallery of the Louvre, looking at a magnificent globe, 
 of unusual magnitude, which had been deposited in the museum. Some one 
 remarked upon the very small space which the island of Great Britain seem- 
 ed to occupy. " Yes," said Mr. Fox, as he approached the globe, and at- 
 tempted to encircle it in his extended arms, " England is a small island, but 
 with her power she girdles the world." 
 
 SCENE IN THE LOUVRE. 
 
 This was not an empty boast. Her possessions were every where. In 
 Spain, in the Mediterranean, in the East Indies and West Indies, in Asia, 
 Africa, and America, and over innumerable islands of the ocean, she extend- 
 ed her sceptre. Rome, in her proudest day of grandeur, never swayed such 
 power. To Napoleon, consequently, it seemed but mere trifling for this En- 
 gland to complain that the infant republic of France, struggling against the 
 hostile monarchies of Europe, was endangering the world by her ambition,
 
 408 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 because she had obtained an influence in Piedmont, in the Cisalpine Repub- 
 lic, in the feeble Duchy of Parma, and had obtained the island of Elba for 
 a colony. To the arguments and remonstrances of Napoleon England could 
 make no reply but by the broadsides of her ships. 
 
 "You are seated," said England, "upon the throne of the exiled Bourbons." 
 
 "And your king," Napoleon replies, "is on the throne of the exiled 
 Stuarts." 
 
 " But the First Consul of France is also President of the Cisalpine Re- 
 public," England rejoins. 
 
 "And the King of England," Napoleon adds, "is also Elector of Hanover." 
 
 "Your troops are in Switzerland," England continues. 
 
 " And yours," Napoleon replies, " are in Spain, having fortified themselves 
 upon the rock of Gibraltar." 
 
 " You are ambitious, and trying to establish foreign colonies," England re- 
 joins. 
 
 " But you," Napoleon replies, " have ten colonies where we have one." 
 
 " We believe" England says, " that you desire to appropriate to yourself 
 Egypt." 
 
 " You have," Napoleon retorts, " appropriated to yourself India." 
 
 Indignantly England exclaims, " Nelson, bring on the fleet ! Wellington, 
 head the army ! This man must be put down. His ambition endangers the 
 liberties of the world. Historians of England ! inform the nations that the 
 usurper Bonaparte, by his arrogance and aggression, is deluging the Conti- 
 nent with blood." 
 
 Immediately on the withdrawal of the British embassador from Paris, and 
 even before the departure of the French minister from London, England, 
 without any public declaration of hostilities, commenced her assaults upon 
 France. The merchant ships of the Republic, unsuspicious of danger, 
 
 SEA COMBAT. 
 
 freighted with treasure, were seized, even in the harbors of England, and 
 wherever they could be found, by the vigilant and almost omnipresent navy 
 of the Queen of the Seas. Two French ships of war were attacked and
 
 1803.J THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 40g 
 
 captured. These disastrous tidings were the first intimation that Napoleon 
 received that the war was renewed. 
 
 The indignation of the First Consul was thoroughly aroused. The retali- 
 ating blow he struck, though merited, yet terrible, was characteristic of the 
 man. At midnight he summoned to his presence the Minister of Police, and 
 ordered the arrest of every Englishman in France between the ages of 
 eighteen and sixty. These were all to be detained as hostages for the pris- 
 oners England had captured upon the seas. The tidings of this decree rolled 
 a billow of woe over the peaceful homes of England ; for there were thou- 
 sands of travelers upon the Continent, unapprehensive of danger, supposing 
 that war would be declared before hostilities would be resumed. These 
 were the first-fruits of that terrific conflict into which the world again was 
 plunged. 
 
 No tongue can tell the anguish thus caused in thousands of homes. Most 
 of the travelers were gentlemen of culture and refinement husbands, fathers, 
 sons, brothers who were visiting the Continent for pleasure. During twelve 
 weary years these hapless men lingered in exile. Many died and moulder- 
 ed to the dust in France. Children grew to manhood, strangers to their im- 
 prisoned fathers, knowing not even whether they were living or dead. Wives 
 and daughters, in desolated homes, through lingering years of suspense and 
 agony, sank in despair into the grave. The hulks of England were also 
 filled with the husbands and fathers of France, and beggary and starvation 
 reigned in a thousand cottages, clustered in the valleys and along the shores 
 of the Republic, where peace and contentment might have dwelt but for this 
 horrible and iniquitous strife. As in all such cases, the woes fell mainly 
 upon the innocent upon those homes where matrons and maidens wept away 
 years of agony. 
 
 The imagination is appalled in contemplating this melancholy addition to 
 the ordinary miseries of war. William Pitt, whose genius inspired this 
 strife, was a man of gigantic intellect, of gigantic energy. But he was an 
 entire stranger to all those kindly sensibilities which add lustre to human 
 nature. He was neither a father nor a husband, and no emotions of gen- 
 tleness, of tenderness, of affection, ever ruffled the calm, cold, icy surface of 
 his soul. 
 
 The order to seize all the English in France was thus announced in the 
 Moniteur : " The government of the Republic, having heard read, by the 
 Minister of Marine and Colonies, a dispatch from the maritime prefect at 
 Brest, announcing that two English frigates had taken two merchant vessels 
 in the Bay of Audrieu, without any previous declaration of war, and in mani- 
 fest violation of the law of nations : 
 
 " All the English, from the ages of eighteen to sixty, or holding any com- 
 mission from his Britannic majesty, who are at present in France, shall im- 
 mediately be constituted prisoners of war, to answer for those citizens of the 
 Republic who may have been arrested and made prisoners by the vessels or 
 subjects of his Britannic majesty previous to any declaration of hostilities. 
 
 (Signed) . " BONAPARTE." 
 
 Napoleon treated the captives whom he had taken with great humanity, 
 holding as prisoners of war only those who were in the military service,
 
 410 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 while the rest were detained in fortified places on their parole, with much 
 personal liberty. The English held the French prisoners in floating hulks, 
 crowded together in a state of inconceivable suffering. Napoleon at times 
 felt that, for the protection of the French captives in England, he ought to 
 retaliate, by visiting similar inflictions upon the English prisoners in France. 
 It was not an easy question for a humane man to settle. But instinctive 
 kindness prevailed, and Napoleon spared the unhappy victims who were in 
 his power. The cabinet of St. James remonstrated energetically against 
 Napoleon's capture of peaceful travelers upon the land. 
 
 Napoleon replied, " You have seized unsuspecting voyagers upon the sea." 
 
 England rejoined, " It is customary to capture every thing we can find 
 upon the ocean belonging to an enemy, and therefore it is right." 
 
 Napoleon answered, " I will make it customary to do the same thing upon 
 the land, and then that also will be right." 
 
 There the argument ended. But the poor captives were still pining away 
 in the hulks of England, or w T andering in sorrow around the fortresses of 
 France. Napoleon proposed to exchange the travelers he had taken upon 
 the land for the voyagers the English had taken upon the sea ; but the cab- 
 inet of St. James, asserting that such an exchange would sanction the valid- 
 ity of their capture, refused the humane proposal, and heartlessly left the 
 captives of the two nations to their terrible fate. Napoleon assured the de- 
 tained of his sympathy, but informed them that their destiny was entirely in 
 the hands of their own government, and to that alone they must appeal. 
 
 "Your ministers," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "made a great outcry 
 about the English travelers whom I detained in France, although they them- 
 selves had set the example by seizing upon all the French vessels, and per- 
 sons on board of them, upon whom they could lay their hands, either in their 
 harbors or at sea, before the declaration of war, and before I had detained 
 the English in France. I said then, if you detain my travelers at sea, where 
 you can do what you like, J will detain yours on the land, where I am equally 
 powerful. But after this I offered to release all the English I had seized in 
 France before the declaration of war, provided you would, in like manner, 
 release the French and their property which you had seized on board the 
 ships. This your ministers refused. Your ministers never publish all the 
 truth unless when they can not avoid it, or when they know that it will come 
 to the knowledge of the public through other channels. In other cases they 
 turn, disguise, or suppress every thing, as best answers their views." 
 
 Such is war, even when conducted by two nations as enlightened and hu- 
 mane as England and France. Such is that horrible system of retaliation 
 which war necessarily engenders. This system of reprisals, visiting upon 
 the innocent the crimes of the guilty, is the fruit which ever ripens when 
 war buds and blossoms. Napoleon had received a terrific blow. With in- 
 stinctive and stupendous power he returned it. Both nations were now ex- 
 asperated to the highest degree. The most extraordinary vigor was infused 
 into the deadly strife. The power and the genius of France was concen- 
 trated in the ruler whom the almost unanimous voice of France had elevated 
 to the supreme power. Consequently, the war assumed the aspect of an as- 
 sault upon an individual man France was quite unprepared for this sudden
 
 1803.] THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 41 ! 
 
 resumption of hostilities. Napoleon had needed all the resources of the state 
 for his great works of internal improvement. Large numbers of troops had 
 been disbanded, and the army was on a peace establishment. 
 
 All France was, however, roused by the sleepless energy of Napoleon. 
 The Electorate of Hanover was one of the European possessions of the King 
 of England. Ten days had not elapsed, after the first broadside from the 
 British ships had been heard, ere a French army of twenty thousand men 
 invaded Hanover, captured its army of 16,000 troops, with 400 pieces of 
 cannon, 30,000 muskets, and 3500 superb horses, and took entire possession 
 of the province. The King of England was deeply agitated when he re- 
 ceived the tidings of this sudden loss of his patrimonial dominions. 
 
 The First Consul immediately sent new offers of peace to England, stat- 
 ing that in the conquest of Hanover " he had only in view to obtain pledges 
 for the evacuation of Malta, and to secure the execution of the treaty of 
 Amiens." The British minister coldly replied that his sovereign would ap- 
 peal for aid to the German empire. 
 
 " If a general peace is ever concluded," said Napoleon often, " then only 
 shall I be able to show myself such as I am, and become the moderator of 
 Europe. France is enabled, by her high civilization, and the absence of all 
 aristocracy, to moderate the extreme demands of the two principles which 
 divide the world by placing herself between them ; thus preventing a gen- 
 eral conflagration, of which none of us can see the end or guess the issue 
 For this I want ten years of peace, and the English oligarchy will not allow 
 it." 
 
 Napoleon was forced into war by the English. The allied monarchs of 
 Europe were roused to combine against him. This compelled France to be- 
 come a camp, and forced Napoleon to assume the dictatorship. The width 
 of the Atlantic Ocean alone has saved the United States from the assaults of 
 a similar combination. 
 
 It had ever been one of Napoleon's favorite projects to multiply colonies, 
 that he might promote the maritime prosperity of France. With this object 
 in view, he purchased Louisiana of Spain. It was his intention to cherish, 
 with the utmost care, upon the fertile banks of the Mississippi, a French colony. 
 This territory, so valuable to France, was now at the mercy of England, and 
 would be immediately captured. Without loss of time, Napoleon sold it to 
 the United States. It was a severe sacrifice for him to make, but cruel 
 necessity demanded it. 
 
 The French were every where exposed to the ravages of the British navy. 
 Blow after blow fell upon France w r ith fearful vigor, as her cities were bom- 
 barded, her colonies captured, and her commerce annihilated. The superior- 
 ity of the English upon the sea was so decisive, that wherever the British 
 flag appeared, victory was almost invariably her own. But England was 
 inapproachable. Guarded by her navy, she reposed in her beautiful island 
 in peace, while she rained down destruction upon her foes in all quarters of 
 the globe. " It is an awful temerity, my lord," said Napoleon to the British 
 embassador, " to attempt the invasion of England." 
 
 But desperate as Napoleon acknowledged the undertaking to be, there 
 was nothing else which he could even attempt. And he embarked in this
 
 412 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXVL 
 
 OS TX 
 
 enterprise with energy so extraordinary, with foresight so penetrating, with 
 sagacity so conspicuous, that the world looked upon his majestic movements 
 with amazement, and all England was aroused to a sense of fearful peril. 
 The most gigantic preparations were immediately made upon the shores of 
 the Channel for the invasion of England. An army of three hundred thou- 
 sand men, as by magic, sprung into being. All France was aroused to ac- 
 tivity. Two thousand gun-boats were speedily built and collected at Bou- 
 logne, to convey across the narrow strait a hundred and fifty thousand troops, 
 
 ten thousand horses, and four thousand 
 pieces of cannon. All the foundries 
 of France were in full blast, construct- 
 ing mortars, howitzers, and artillery of 
 the largest calibre. Every province 
 of the Republic was aroused and in- 
 spired by the almost superhuman en- 
 ergies of the First Consul. 
 
 He attended to the minutest partic- 
 ulars of all the arrangements. While 
 believing that destiny controls all things, 
 he seemed to leave nothing for destiny 
 to control. Every possible contingency 
 was foreseen and guarded against. The 
 national enthusiasm was so great, the 
 conviction was so unanimous that there 
 remained for France no alternative but 
 by force to repel aggression, that Na- 
 poleon proudly formed a legion of the 
 Vendeean Royalists, all composed, both 
 officers and soldiers, of those who but 
 a few months before had been fighting against the Republic. It was a sub- 
 lime assertion of his confidence in the attachment of united France. 
 
 To meet the enormous expenses which this new war involved, it was nec- 
 essary to impose a heavy tax upon the people. This was not only borne 
 cheerfully, but from all parts of the Republic rich presents flowed into the 
 treasury, tokens of the affection of France for the First Consul, and of the 
 deep conviction of the community of the righteousness of the cause in which 
 they were engaged. One of the departments of the state built and equipped 
 a frigate, and sent it to Boulogne as a free gift. The impulse was electric. 
 All over France the whole people rose, and vied with each other in their of- 
 ferings of good-will. Small towns gave flat-bottomed boats, larger towns 
 frigates, and the more important cities ships of the line. Paris gave a ship 
 of 120 guns, Lyons one of 100, Bordeaux an 84, and Marseilles a 74. Even 
 the Italian Republic, as a token of its gratitude, sent one million dollars to 
 build two ships : one to be called the President, and the other the Italian 
 Republic. All the mercantile houses and public bodies made liberal pres- 
 ents. The Senate gave for its donation a ship of 120 guns. These free 
 gifts amounted to over ten millions of dollars. 
 
 Napoleon established himself at Boulogne, where he spent much of his 
 
 THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE.
 
 1803.] THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 413 
 
 time, carefully studying the features of the coast, the varying phenomena of 
 the sea, and organizing in all its parts the desperate enterprise he contem- 
 plated. The most rigid economy, by Napoleon's sleepless vigilance, was in- 
 fused into every contract, and the strictest order pervaded the national finan- 
 ces. It was impossible that strife so deadly should rage between England 
 and France, and not involve the rest of the Continent. Under these circum- 
 stances, Alexander of Russia entered a remonstrance against again enkin- 
 dling the horrid flames of war throughout Europe, and offered his mediation. 
 
 Napoleon promptly replied, " I am ready to refer the question to the arbi- 
 tration of the Emperor Alexander, and will pledge myself by a bond to sub- 
 mit to the award, whatever it may be." 
 
 England declined the pacific offer. The cabinet of Russia then made 
 some proposals for the termination of hostilities. 
 
 Napoleon replied, " I am still ready to accept the personal arbitration of 
 the Czar himself, for that monarch's regard to his reputation will render him 
 just. But I am not willing to submit to a negotiation conducted by the Rus- 
 sian cabinet in a mariner not at all friendly to France." He concluded with 
 the following characteristic words : " The First Consul has done every thing 
 to preserve peace. His efforts have been vain. He could not refrain from 
 seeing that war was the decree of destiny. He will make war, and he will 
 not flinch before a proud nation capable for twenty years of making all the 
 powers of the earth bow before it." 
 
 Napoleon now resolved to visit Belgium and the departments of the Rhine. 
 Josephine accompanied him. He was hailed with transport wherever he ap- 
 peared, and royal honors were showered upon him. Every where his pres- 
 ence drew forth manifestations of attachment to his person, hatred for the 
 English, and zeal to combat the determined foes of France. But, wherever 
 Napoleon went, his scrutinizing attention was directed to the dock-yards, the 
 magazines, the supplies, and the various resources and capabilities of the 
 country. Every hour was an hour of toil, for toil seemed to be his only 
 pleasure. From this brief tour Napoleon returned to Boulogne. 
 
 The Straits of Calais, which Napoleon contemplated crossing, notwith- 
 standing the immense preponderance of the British navy filling the Channel, 
 is about thirty miles in width. There were four contingencies which seemed 
 to render the project not impossible. In summer there are frequent calms 
 in the Channel of forty-eight hours' duration. During this calm the English 
 ships of the line would be compelled to lie motionless. The flat-bottomed 
 boats of Napoleon, impelled by strong rowers, might then pass even in sight 
 of the enemy's squadron. In the winter there were frequently dense fogs, 
 unaccompanied by any wind. Favored by the obscurity and the calm, a 
 passage might then be practicable. There was still a third chance, more 
 favorable than either. There were not unfrequently tempests so violent that 
 the English squadron would be compelled to leave the Channel and stand 
 out to sea. Seizing the moment when the tempest subsided, the French flotilla 
 might perhaps cross the Straits before the squadron could return. A fourth 
 chance offered. It was, by skillful combinations to concentrate suddenly in 
 the Channel a strong French squadron, and to push the flotilla across under 
 the protection of its guns. For three ye<irs Napoleon consecrated his untir- 
 VOL. II. H
 
 414 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 mg energies to the perfection of all the mechanism of this herculean enter- 
 prise. 
 
 Yet no one was more fully alive than himself to the tremendous hazards 
 to be encountered. It is impossible now to tell what would have been the 
 result of a conflict between the English squadron and those innumerable gun- 
 boats, manned by one hundred and fifty thousand men, surrounding in swarms 
 every ship-of-the-line, piercing them in every direction with their guns, and 
 sweeping their decks with a storm of bullets, while in their turn they were 
 run down by the large ships dashing in full sail through their midst, sinking 
 some in their crushing onset, and blowing others out of the water with their 
 tremendous broadsides. "By sacrificing 100 gun-boats and 10,000 men," 
 said Admiral Decres, a man disposed to magnify difficulties, "it is not im- 
 probable that we may repel the assault of the enemy's squadron, and cross 
 the Straits." 
 
 ' One loses," said Napoleon, " that number in battle every day. And 
 what battle ever promised the results which a landing in England authorizes 
 us to hope for?" 
 
 The amount of business now resting upon the mind of Napoleon seems in- 
 credible. He was personally attending to all the complicated diplomacy of 
 Europe. Spain was professing friendship and alliance, and yet treacher- 
 ously engaged in acts of hostility. Charles IV., perhaps the most contempti- 
 ble monarch who ever wore a crown, was then upon the throne of Spain. 
 His wife was a shameless libertine. Her paramour, Godoy, called the Prince 
 of Peace, a weak-minded, conceited, worn-out debauchee, governed the de- 
 graded empire. Napoleon remonstrated against the perfidy of Spain, and 
 the wrongs France was receiving at her hands. The miserable Godoy re- 
 turned an answer, mean-spirited, hypocritical, and sycophantic. Napoleon 
 sternly shook his head, and ominously exclaimed, "All this will yet end in a 
 clap of thunder." 
 
 In the midst of these scenes, Napoleon was continually displaying those 
 generous and magnanimous traits of character which won the enthusiastic 
 love of all who knew him. On one occasion a young English sailor had 
 escaped from imprisonment in the interior of France, and had succeeded in 
 reaching the coast near Boulogne. Secretly he had constructed a little skiff 
 of the branches and the bark of trees, as fragile as the ark of bulrushes. 
 Upon this frail float, which would scarcely buoy up his body, he was about 
 to venture out upon the stormy Channel, with the chance of being picked up 
 by some English cruiser. Napoleon, informed of the desperate project of 
 the young man, who was arrested in the attempt, was struck with admiration 
 in view of the fearless enterprise, and ordered the prisoner to be brought be- 
 fore him. 
 
 " Did you really intend," inquired Napoleon, " to brave the terrors of the 
 ocean in so frail a skiff?" 
 
 "If you will but grant me permission," said the young man, "I will em- 
 bark immediately." 
 
 " You must doubtless, then, have some mistress to revisit, since you are 
 so desirous to return to your country?" 
 
 " I wish," replied the noble sailor, " to see my mother. She is aged, 
 poor, and infirm."
 
 1804.] THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 415 
 
 The heart of Napoleon was touched. " You shall see her," he energet- 
 ically replied ; " and present to her from me this purse of gold. She must 
 be no common mother who can have trained up so affectionate and dutiful 
 a son." 
 
 He immediately gave orders that the young sailor should be furnished 
 with every comfort, and sent in a cruiser, with a flag of truce, to the first 
 British vessel that could be found. When one thinks of the moral sublimi- 
 ty of the meeting of the English and French ships under these circumstances, 
 with the white flag of humanity and peace fluttering in the breeze, one can 
 not but mourn with more intensity over the horrid barbarity and brutality of 
 savage war. Perhaps in the next interview between these tw r o ships they 
 fought for hours, hurling bullets and balls through the quivering nerves, and 
 lacerated sinews, and mangled frames of brothers, husbands, and fathers. 
 
 Napoleon's labors at this time in the cabinet were so enormous, dictating 
 to his agents in all parts of France, and to his embassadors all over Europe, 
 that he kept three secretaries constantly employed. One of these young 
 men, who was lodged and boarded in the palace, received a salary of 1200 
 dollars a year. Unfortunately, however, he had become deeply involved in 
 debt, and was incessantly harassed by the importunities of his creditors. 
 Knowing Napoleon's strong disapprobation of all irregularities, he feared 
 utter ruin should the knowledge of the facts reach his ears. One morning, 
 after having passed a sleepless night, he rose at the early hour of five, and 
 sought refuge from his distraction in commencing work in the cabinet. But 
 Napoleon, who had already been at work for some time, in passing the door 
 of the cabinet to go to his bath, heard the young man humming a tune. 
 
 Opening the door, he looked in upon his young secretary, and said, with a 
 smile of satisfaction, "What ! so early at your desk ! Why, this is very ex- 
 emplary. We ought to be well satisfied with such service. What salary 
 have you ?" 
 
 " Twelve hundred dollars, sire," was the reply. 
 
 "Indeed !" said Napoleon ; "that, for one of your age, is very handsome. 
 And, in addition, I think you have your board and lodging ?" 
 
 "I have, sire." 
 
 "Well, I do not wonder that you sing. You must be a very happy man." 
 
 "Alas ! sire," he replied, " I ought to be, but I am not." 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 "Because, sire," he replied, " I have too many English tormenting me. 
 I have also an aged father, who is almost blind, and a sister who is not yet 
 married, dependent upon me for support." 
 
 "But, sir," Napoleon rejoined, "in supporting your father and your sister, 
 you do only that which every good son should do. But what have you to 
 do with the English ?" 
 
 "They are those," the young man answered, "who have loaned me money, 
 which I am not able to repay. All those who are in debt call their creditors 
 the English" 
 
 " Enough ! enough ! I understand you. You are in debt, then? And how 
 is it that with such a salary you run into debt ? I wish to have no man 
 about my person who has recourse to the gold of the English. From this
 
 416 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 hour you will receive your dismission. Adieu, sir !" Saying this, Napoleon 
 left the room and returned to his chamber. The young man was stupefied 
 with despair. 
 
 But a few moments elapsed when an aid entered and gave him a note, 
 saying, "It is from Napoleon." Trembling with agitation, and not doubting 
 that it confirmed his dismissal, he opened it and read, 
 
 " I have wished to dismiss you from my cabinet, for you deserve it ; but I 
 have thought of your aged and blind father, and of your young sister, and, for 
 their sake, I pardon you. And, since they are the ones who must most suf- 
 fer from your misconduct, I send you, with leave of absence for one day 
 only, the sum of two thousand dollars. With this sum disembarrass your- 
 self immediately of all the English who trouble you, and hereafter conduct 
 yourself in such a manner as not to fall into their power. Should you fail in 
 this, I shall give you leave of absence without permission to return." 
 
 Upon the bleak cliff of Boulogne, swept by the storm and the rain, Napo- 
 leon had a little hut erected for himself. Often, leaving the palace of St. 
 Cloud by night, after having spent a toilsome day in the cares of state, he 
 passed with the utmost rapidity over the intervening space of 180 miles. 
 Arriving about the middle of the next day, apparently unconscious of fatigue, 
 he examined every thing before he allowed himself a moment of sleep. The 
 English exerted all their energies to impede the progress of the majestic 
 enterprise. Their cruisers, incessantly hovering around, kept up an almost 
 uninterrupted fire upon the works. Their shells, passing over the cliff, ex- 
 ploded in the harbor and in the crowded camps. The laborers, inspired by 
 the presence of Napoleon, continued proudly their toil, singing as they work, 
 ed, while the balls of the English were flying around them. 
 
 NAPOLEON'S HUT AT BOULOGNE. 
 
 For their protection, Napoleon finally constructed large batteries, which 
 would throw twenty-four pound shot three miles, and thus kept the English 
 ships at that distance. It would, however, require a volume to describe the 
 magnitude of the works constructed at Boulogne. Napoleon was indefati- 
 gable in his exertions to promote the health and the comfort of the soldiers.
 
 1804.] THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE. 417 
 
 They were all well paid, warmly clothed, fed with an abundance of nutri- 
 tious food, and their camp, divided into quarters traversed by long streets, 
 presented the cheerful aspect of a neat, thriving, well-ordered city. The 
 soldiers, thus protected, enjoyed perfect health, and, full of confidence in the 
 enterprise for which they were preparing, hailed their beloved leader with 
 the most enthusiastic acclamations whenever he appeared. 
 
 Spacious as were the quays erected at Boulogne, it was not possible to 
 range all the vessels alongside. They were consequently placed nine deep, 
 the first one only touching the quays. A horse, with a band passing round 
 him, was raised by means of a pulley, transmitted nine times from yard to 
 yard, as he was borne aloft in the air, and in about two minutes was depos- 
 ited in the ninth vessel. By constant repetition, the embarkation and dis- 
 embarkation was accomplished with almost inconceivable promptness and 
 precision. In all weather, in summer and winter, unless it blew a gale, the 
 boats went out to maneuver in the presence of the enemy. The exercise of 
 landing from the boats along the cliff was almost daily performed. The 
 men first swept the shore by a steady fire of artillery from the boats, and 
 then, approaching the beach, landed men, horses, and cannon. There was 
 not an accident which could happen in landing on an enemy's coast, except 
 the fire from hostile batteries, which was not thus provided against, and often 
 braved. In all these exciting scenes the First Consul was every where pres- 
 ent. The soldiers saw him now on horseback upon the cliff, gazing proudly 
 upon their heroic exertions ; again he was galloping over the hard, smooth 
 sands of the beach, and again on board one of the gun-boats, going out to 
 try her powers in a skirmish with one of the British cruisers. 
 
 Frequently he persisted in braving serious danger, and at one time, when 
 visiting the anchorage in a violent gale, the boat was swamped near the 
 shore. The sailors threw themselves into the sea, and bore him safely 
 through the billows to the land. It is not strange that those who had seen 
 the kings of France squandering the revenues of the realm to minister to 
 their own voluptuousness and debauchery, should have regarded Napoleon 
 as belonging to a different race. One day, when the atmosphere was pecu- 
 liarly clear, Napoleon, upon the cliffs of Boulogne, saw dimly in the distant 
 horizon the outline of the English shore. Roused by the sight, he wrote 
 thus to Cambaceres : "From the heights of Ambleteuse I have seen this day 
 the coast of England, as one sees the heights of Calvary from the Tuileries. 
 We could distinguish the houses and the bustle. It is a ditch that shall be 
 leaped when one is daring enough to try." 
 
 Napoleon, though one of the most bold of men in his conceptions, was also 
 the most cautious and prudent in their execution. He had made, in his own 
 mind, arrangements, unrevealed to any one, suddenly to concentrate in the 
 Channel the whole French squadron, which, in the harbors of Toulon, Ferrol, 
 and La Rochelle, had been thoroughly equipped, to act in unexpected con- 
 cert with the vast flotilla. " Eight hours of night," said he, " favorable for 
 us, will now decide the fate of the world." 
 
 England, surprised at the magnitude of these preparations, began to be 
 seriously alarmed. She had imagined her ocean-engirdled isle to be in a 
 state of perfect security. Now she learned that within thirty miles of her
 
 418 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 coast an army of one hundred and fifty thousand most highly-disciplined 
 troops was assembled, that more than two thousand gun-boats were prepared 
 to transport this host, with ten thousand horses, and four thousand pieces of 
 cannon, across the Channel, and that Napoleon, who had already proved 
 himself to be the greatest military genius of any age, was to head this army 
 on its march to London. The idea of one hundred and fifty thousand men, 
 led by Bonaparte, was enough even to make the most powerful nation shud- 
 der. The British naval officers almost unanimously expressed the opinion 
 that it was impossible to be secure against a descent on the English coast 
 by the French, under favor of a fog, a calm, or a long winter's night. The 
 debates in Parliament as to the means of resisting the danger were anxious 
 and stormy. A vote was passed authorizing the ministers to summon all 
 Englishmen, between the ages of seventeen and fifty -five, to arms. In every 
 country town, the whole population were seen, every morning, exercising for 
 war. The aged king, George III., reviewed these raw troops, accompanied 
 by the exiled Bourbon princes, who wished to recover, by the force of the 
 arms of foreigners, that throne from which they had been ejected by the 
 will of the people. 
 
 From the Isle of Wight to the mouth of the Thames, a system of signals 
 was arranged to give the alarm. Upon the slightest intimation of danger, 
 beacon-fires were to blaze at night on every headland. Carriages were con- 
 structed for the rapid conveyance of troops to any threatened point. Moth- 
 ers and maidens in beautiful, happy England, placed their heads upon their 
 pillows in terror, for the bloodhounds of war were unleashed, and England 
 had unleashed them. She suffered bitterly for the crime; she suffers still, 
 in that enormous burden of taxes which the ensuing years of war and woe 
 have bequeathed to her children. 
 
 There was ample cause for this alarm. Napoleon, justly exasperated, had 
 determined to bring the war to a crisis. He was making arrangements for 
 the invasion on a scale such as the world had never witnessed before. It 
 was, indeed, necessary to defend the coast of England. The Duke of Wel- 
 lington stated in 1847, "I have examined and reconnoitered, over and over 
 again, the whole coast from the North Foreland to Selsy Bill, near Ports- 
 mouth, and I say that, excepting immediately under the fire of Dover Cas- 
 tle, there is not a spot on the coast on which infantry might not be thrown 
 on shore, at any time of tide, with any wind, and in any weather, and from 
 which such a body of infantry, so thrown on shore, would not find, within 
 the distance of five miles, a road into the interior of the country. In that 
 space of coast, there are not less than seven small harbors, or mouths of riv- 
 ers, and without defense, of which an enemy, having landed his infantry on 
 the coast, might take possession, and therein land his cavalry and artillery 
 of all calibre, and establish himself and his communications with France."* 
 
 Under these circumstances, the British government lent its most efficient 
 aid to those royal conspirators in London who were plotting the assassination 
 of Napoleon. They were supplied with funds by the British ministry, and 
 the ships of Great Britain were at their service to land them on the French 
 coast. The infamous George Cadoudal, already implicated in the horrible 
 
 * North British Review, No.
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 4 19 
 
 butchery of the infernal machine, was still living in London with the French 
 refugees in a state of opulence from the money furnished by the British gov- 
 ernment. The Count d'Artois, subsequently Charles X. ; his son, the Duke 
 de Berri ; their kinsman, the father of the Duke d'Enghien, and many other 
 persons, prominent in the Bourbon interests, were intimately associated with 
 this brawny assassin in the attempts, by any means, fair or foul, to crush 
 the man who had ventured to recognize the suffrages of the nation as a fair 
 title to the chief magistracy of France. The English government supplied 
 these conspirators liberally with money, asking no questions, for conscience' 
 sake, respecting the details of their plans. 
 
 The Duke d'Enghien, son of the Duke of Bourbon, was a bold soldier, 
 about thirty-four years of age. He had stationed himself at Ettenheim, a 
 village in the territory of the Grand Duke of Baden, a short distance over 
 the Rhine. At this place, he was distant but nineteen miles from Stras- 
 bourg, the frontier city of France in that direction. At several outposts in 
 the neighbouring states there were English ministers or agents ready to co- 
 operate in the various endeavors for the overthrow of Napoleon. Drake was 
 at Munich, Spencer Smith at Stuttgard, Taylor at Cassel, Wickham at 
 Berne, Rumboldt at Hamburg. These agents of the British government 
 were amply provided with funds to aid the emigrants, who, under English 
 pay, were hanging on the French borders, seeking in any way the destruc- 
 tion of the First Consul. 
 
 Innumerable conspiracies were formed by these desperate men for the as- 
 sassination of Napoleon. More than thirty were detected by the vigilant po- 
 lice. Napoleon, at last, became exceedingly exasperated. He felt that 
 England was ignominiously supplying those with funds whom she knew to 
 be aiming at his assassination. He was indignant that the Bourbon princes 
 should assume that he, elected to the chief magistracy of France by the 
 unanimous voice of the nation, was to be treated as an outlaw, to be hunted 
 down by assassins. " My blood," he exclaimed bitterly, " is not ditch wa- 
 ter. I will one day teach those Bourbons a lesson which they will not soon 
 forget." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Conspiracies in London Countenanced by the British Ministers Jealousy of Moreau Plan of 
 the Conspirators Moreau and Pichegru Clemency of Napoleon Evidence against the Duke 
 d'Enghien Arrest of the Duke His Trial Condemnation Execution Trial of Moreau His 
 Exile Testimony of Joseph Bonaparte Remarks from Encyclopaedia Americana Extravagant 
 Denunciation of Lamartine. 
 
 A CONSPIRACY was now organized in London by Count d'Artois, and others 
 of the French emigrants, upon a gigantic scale. Count de Lisle, sometimes 
 also called Count de Provence, afterward Louis XVIII., was then residing 
 at Warsaw. The plot was communicated to him, but he repulsed it. The 
 plan involved the expenditure of millions, which were furnished by the Brit- 
 ish government. Mr. Hammond, under Secretary of State at London, and
 
 420 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXYI1. 
 
 the English ministers at Hesse, at Stuttgard, and at Batavia, all upon the 
 confines of France, were in intimate communication with the disaffected in 
 France, endeavoring to excite civil war. Three prominent French emigrants, 
 the Princes of Conde, grandfather, son, and grandson, were then in the ser- 
 vice and pay of Great Britain, with arms in their hands against their coun- 
 try, and ready to obey any call for active service. The grandson, the Duke 
 d'Enghien, was in the Duchy of Baden, awaiting, on the banks of the Rhine, 
 the signal for his march into France, and attracted to the village of Etten- 
 heim by his attachment for a young lady there, a Princess de Rohan. 
 
 The plan of the conspirators was this : A band of a hundred resolute men, 
 headed by the daring and indomitable George Cadoudal, were to be intro- 
 duced stealthily into France, to waylay Napoleon when passing to Malmai- 
 son, disperse his guard, consisting of some ten outriders, and kill him upon 
 the spot. The conspirators flattered themselves that this would not be con- 
 sidered assassination, but a battle. Having thus disposed of the First Con- 
 sul, the next question was, how, in the midst of the confusion that would 
 ensue, to regain for the Bourbons and their partisans their lost power. To 
 do this, it was necessary to secure the co-operation of the army. 
 
 " In reply to some arguments," says O'Meara, " w r hich I offered to con- 
 vince him that the English ministry were ignorant of that part of Pichegru's 
 plot which embraced assassination," Napoleon replied, 
 
 " ' I do not suppose that any of the English ministers actually said to 
 Georges or Pichegru, " You must kill the First Consul." But they well knew 
 that such formed the chief, and, indeed, the only hope of success. And yet 
 they, knowing this, furnished them with money, and provided ships to land 
 them in France, which, to all intents and purposes, renders them accom- 
 plices. If they had been tried by an English jury, they would have been 
 
 condemned as such. Lord took great pains to persuade the foreign 
 
 courts that they were ignorant of the project of assassination, and wrote sev- 
 eral letters, in which he acknowledged that the English had landed men for 
 the purpose of overturning the French government, but denied the other. 
 However, he made a very lame business of it, and none of the Continental 
 governments gave any credit to his assertion. It was naturally condemned, 
 as, on the ground of retaliation, none of the sovereigns were safe. Fox had 
 some conversation with me on the subject. He, too, like you, denied that 
 the ministry were privy to the scheme of assassination, but finally, after hear- 
 ing what I had to say, he condemned the whole transaction.' " 
 
 In nothing is the infirmity of our nature more conspicuous, than in the 
 petty jealousies which so often rankle in the bosoms of great men. General 
 Moreau had looked with an envious eye upon the gigantic strides of General 
 Bonaparte to power. His wife, a weak, vain, envious woman, could not en- 
 dure the thought that General Moreau should be only the second man in the 
 empire, and she exerted all her influence over her vacillating and unstable 
 husband to convince him that the conqueror of Hohenlinden was entitled to 
 the highest gifts France had to confer. 
 
 One day, by accident, she was detained a few moments in the antecham^ 
 her of Josephine. Her indignation was extreme. General Moreau was in a 
 mood of mind to yield to the influence of these reproaches. As an indication
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 421 
 
 of his displeasure, he allowed himself to repel the favors which the First Con- 
 sul showered upon him. He at last was guilty of the impropriety of refus- 
 ing to attend the First Consul at a review. In consequence, he was omitted 
 in an invitation to a banquet which Napoleon gave on the anniversary of the 
 Republic. Thus coldness increased to hostility. Moreau, with bitter feel- 
 ings, withdrew to his estate of Grosbois, where, in the enjoyment of opu- 
 lence, he watched with an evil eye the movements of one whom he had the 
 vanity to think his rival. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it was not thought difficult to win over Mo- 
 reau, and, through him, the army. Then, at the very moment when Napoleon 
 had been butchered on his drive to Malmaison, the Loyalists all over France 
 were to rise ; the emigrant Bourbons, with arms and money, supplied by En- 
 gland, in their hands, were to rush over the frontier ; the British navy and 
 army were to be ready with their powerful co-operation ; and the Bourbon 
 dynasty was to be re-established. Such was this infamous conspiracy of 
 the Bourbons. 
 
 But in this plan there was a serious difficulty. Moreau prided himself 
 upon being a very decided Republican, and had denounced even the consu- 
 late for life, as tending to the establishment of royalty. Still, it was hoped 
 that the jealousy of his disposition would induce him to engage in any plot 
 for the overthrow of the First Consul. General Pichegru, a man illustrious 
 in rank and talent, a warm advocate of the Bourbons, and alike influential 
 with Monarchists and Republicans, had escaped from the wilds of Sinamary, 
 where he had been banished by the Directory, and was then residing in Lon- 
 don. Pichegru was drawn into the conspiracy, and employed to confer with 
 Moreau. Matters being thus arranged, Cadoudal, with a band of bold and 
 desperate men, armed to the teeth, and with an ample supply of funds, 
 which had been obtained from the English treasury, set out from London 
 for Paris. 
 
 Upon the coast of Normandy, upon the side of a precipitous craggy cliff, 
 ever washed by the ocean, there was a secret passage, formed by a cleft in 
 the rock, known only to smugglers. Through the cleft, one or two hundred 
 feet in depth, a rope-ladder could be let down to the surface of the sea. The 
 smugglers thus scaled the precipice, bearing heavy burdens upon their 
 shoulders. Cadoudal had found out this path, and easily purchased its use. 
 To facilitate communication with Paris, a chain of lodging-places had been 
 established in solitary farm-houses and in the castles of Loyalist nobles, so 
 that the conspirators could pass from the cliff of Biville to Paris without ex- 
 posure to the public roads or to any inn. Captain Wright, an officer in the 
 English navy, a bold and skillful seaman, took the conspirators on board his 
 vessel, and secretly landed them at the foot of this cliff. Cautiously, Ca- 
 doudal, with some of his trusty followers, crept along from shelter to shel- 
 ter until he reached the suburbs of Paris. 
 
 From his lurking place he dispatched emissaries, bought by his abundance 
 of gold, to different parts of France, to prepare the Royalists to rise. Much 
 to his disappointment, he found Napoleon almost universally popular, and 
 the Loyalists themselves settling down in contentment under his efficient 
 government. Even the priests were attached to the First Consul, for he
 
 422 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVIL 
 
 had rescued them from the most unrelenting persecution. In the course of 
 two months of incessant exertions, Cadoudal was able to collect but thirty 
 men, who, by liberal pay, were willing to run the risk of trying to restore 
 the Bourbons. While Cadoudal was thus employed with the Royalists, 
 Pichegru and his agents were sounding Moreau and the Republicans. Gen- 
 eral Lajolais, a former officer of Moreau, was easily gained over. He drew 
 from Moreau a confession of his wounded feelings, and of his desire to see 
 the consular government overthrown in almost any way. Lajolais did not 
 reveal to the illustrious general the details of the conspiracy, but hastening 
 to London by the circuitous route of Hamburg, to avoid detection, told his 
 credulous employers that Moreau was ready to take any part in the en- 
 terprise. 
 
 At the conferences now held in London by this band of conspirators, plot- 
 ting assassination, the Count d'Artois had the criminal folly to preside the 
 future monarch of France guiding the deliberations of a band of assassins. 
 When Lajolais reported that Moreau was ready to join Pichegru the mo- 
 ment he should appear, Charles, then Count d'Artois, exclaimed with de 
 light, " Ah ! let but our two generals agree together, and 1 shall speedily be 
 restored to France !" It was arranged that Pichegru, Riviere, and one of 
 the Polignacs, with others of the conspirators, should immediately join George 
 Cadoudal, and, as soon as every thing was ripe, Charles and his son, the Duke 
 of Berri, were to land in France, and take their share in the infamous pro- 
 ject. Pichegru and his party embarked on board the vessel of Captain 
 Wright, and were landed, in the darkness of the night, beneath the cliff of 
 Biville. These illustrious assassins climbed the smugglers' rope, and skulk 
 ing from lurking-place to lurking-place, joined the desperado, George Ca 
 doudal, in the suburbs of Paris^ Moreau made an appointment to meet 
 Pichegru by night upon the Boulevard de la Madeleine. 
 
 It was a dark and cold night, in the month of January, 1804, when these 
 two illustrious generals, the conqueror of Holland and the hero of Hohen- 
 linden, approached, and, by a preconcerted signal, recognized each other. 
 Years had elapsed since they had stood side by side as soldiers in the army 
 of the Rhine. Both were embarrassed, for neither of these once honorable 
 men were accustomed to deeds of darkness. They had hardly exchanged 
 salutations, when George Cadoudal appeared, he having planned the meet- 
 ing, and being determined to know its result. Moreau, disgusted with the 
 idea of having any association with such a man, was angry in being subject- 
 ed to such an interview, and, appointing another meeting with Pichegru at 
 his own house, abruptly retired. They soon met, and had a long and serious 
 conference. 
 
 Moreau was perfectly willing to conspire for the overthrow of the consu- 
 lar government, but insisted that the supreme power should be placed in his 
 own hands, and not in the hands of the Bourbons. Pichegru was grievously 
 disappointed at the result of this interview. He remarked to the confidant 
 who conducted him to Moreau's house, and thence back to his retreat, 
 
 " And this man, too, has ambition, and wishes to take his turn in govern^ 
 ing France. Poor creature ! he could not govern her for four-and -twenty 
 hours."
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 433 
 
 When Cadoudal was informed of the result of the interview, he impetu- 
 ously exclaimed, " If we must needs have any usurper, I should infinitely 
 prefer Napoleon to this brainless and heartless Moreau !" The conspirators 
 were now almost in a state of despair. They found, to their surprise, in en- 
 tire contradiction to the views which had been so confidently proclaimed in 
 England, that Napoleon was admired pnd beloved by nearly all the French 
 nation, and that it was impossible to organize even a respectable party in op- 
 position to him. 
 
 Various circumstances now led the First Consul to suspect that some se- 
 rious plot was in progress. The three English ministers at Hesse, Wirtem- 
 berg, and Bavaria, were found actively employed in endeavoring to foment 
 intrigues in France. The minister at Bavaria, Mr. Drake, had, as he sup- 
 posed, bribed a Frenchman to act as his spy. This Frenchman carried all 
 Drake's letters to Napoleon, and received from the First Consul drafts of 
 the answers to be returned. In this curious correspondence, Drake remarks 
 in one of his letters, 
 
 "All plots against the First Consul must be forwarded; for it is a matter 
 of right little consequence by whom the animal be stricken down, provided you 
 are all in the hunt."'' 
 
 Napoleon caused these letters to be deposited in the Senate, and to be ex- 
 hibited to the diplomatists of all nations, who chose to see them. Some 
 spies had also been arrested by the police, and condemned to be shot. One, 
 on his way to execution, declared that he had important information to give. 
 He was one of the band of George Cadoudal, and confessed the whole plot. 
 Other conspirators were soon arrested. Among them, M. Lozier, a man of 
 education and polished manners, declared that Moreau had sent to the Roy- 
 alist conspirators in London one of his officers, offering to head a movement 
 in behalf of the Bourbons, and to influence the army to co-operate in that 
 movement. When the conspirators, relying upon this promise, had reached 
 Paris, he continued, Moreau took a different turn, and demanded that he him- 
 self should be made the successor of the First Consul. 
 
 When the first intimation of Moreau's guilt was communicated to Napo- 
 leon, it was with difficulty that he could credit it. The First Consul imme- 
 diately convened a secret council of his ministers. They met in the Tuil- 
 eries at night. Moreau was a formidable opponent even for Napoleon to at- 
 tack. He was enthusiastically admired by the army, and his numerous and 
 powerful friends would aver that he was the victim of the jealousy of the 
 First Consul. It was suggested by some of the council that it would be 
 good policy not to touch Moreau. Napoleon remarked, 
 
 " They will say that I am afraid of Moreau. That shall not be said. I 
 have been one of the most merciful of men ; but, if necessary, I will be one 
 of the most terrible. I will strike Moreau as I would strike any one else, as 
 he has entered into a conspiracy, odious alike for its objects and for the con- 
 nections which it presumes." 
 
 It was decided that Moreau should be immediately arrested. Camba- 
 ceres, a profound lawyer, declared that the ordinary tribunals were not suffi- 
 cient to meet this case, and urged that Moreau should be tried by a court- 
 martial composed of the most eminent military officers, a course which
 
 424 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 would have been in entire accordance with existing laws. Napoleon op- 
 posed the proposition. 
 
 " It would be said," he remarked, " that I had punished Moreau, by caus- 
 ing him, under the form of law, to be condemned by my own partisans." 
 
 Early in the morning Moreau was arrested and conducted to the Temple. 
 Excitement spread rapidly through Paris. The friends of Moreau declared 
 that there was no conspiracy ; that neither George Cadoudal nor Pichegru 
 were in France ; that the whole story was an entire fabrication, to enable the 
 First Consul to get rid of a dangerous rival. Napoleon was extremely sen- 
 sitive respecting his reputation. It was the great object of his ambition to 
 enthrone himself in the hearts of the French people as a great benefactor. 
 He was deeply wounded by these cruel taunts. 
 
 " It is indeed hard," said he, " to be exposed to plots the most atrocious, 
 and then to be accused of being the inventor of those plots ; to be charged 
 with jealousy, when the vilest jealousy pursues me ; to be accused of at- 
 tempts upon the life of another, when the most desperate attacks are aimed 
 at my own." 
 
 All the enthusiasm of his impetuous nature was now aroused to drag the 
 whole plot to light in defense of his honor. He was extremely indignant 
 against the Royalists. He had not overturned the throne of the Bourbons. 
 He had found it overturned, France in anarchy, and the Royalists in exile 
 and beggary. He had been the generous benefactor of these Royalists, and 
 had done every thing in his power to render them service. In defiance of 
 deeply-rooted popular prejudices, and in opposition to the remonstrances of 
 his friends, he had recalled the exiled emigrants, restored to them as far as 
 possible their confiscated estates, conferred upon them important trusts, and 
 had even lavished upon them so many favors as to have drawn upon him- 
 self the accusation of meditating the restoration of the Bourbons. In return 
 for such services, they were endeavoring to blow him up with infernal ma- 
 chines, and to butcher him on the highway. 
 
 As for Moreau, he regarded him simply with pity, and wished only to 
 place upon his head the burden of a pardon. The most energetic measures 
 were now adopted to search out the conspirators in their lurking-places. 
 Every day new arrests were made. Two of the conspirators made full con- 
 fessions. They declared that the highest nobles of the Bourbon court were 
 involved in the plot, and that a distinguished Bourbon prince was near at 
 hand, ready to place himself at the head of the Royalists as soon as Napo- 
 leon should be slain. 
 
 The First Consul, exasperated to the highest degree, exclaimed, " These 
 Bourbons fancy that they may shed my blood like that of some wild animal, 
 and yet my blood is quite as precious as theirs. I will repay them the alarm 
 with which they seek to inspire me. I pardon Moreau the weakness and 
 the errors to which he is urged by a stupid jealousy, but I will pitilessly 
 shoot the very first of these princes who shall fall into my hands. I will 
 teach them with what sort of a man they have to deal." 
 
 Fresh arrests were still daily made, and the confessions of the prisoners 
 all established the point that there was a young prince who occasionally ap- 
 peared in their councils, who was treated with the greatest consideration, and
 
 1604.] 
 
 THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 
 
 425 
 
 who was to head the movement. Still Cadoudal, Pichegru, and other prom- 
 inent leaders of the conspiracy eluded detection. As there was ample evi- 
 dence that these men were in Paris, a law was passed in the Legislative As- 
 sembly, without opposition, that any person who should shelter them should 
 be punished by death, and that whosoever should be aware of their hiding- 
 place, and yet fail to expose them, should be punished with six years' im- 
 prisonment. 
 
 A strict guard was also placed for several days at the gates of Paris, al- 
 lowing no one to leave, and with orders to shoot any person who should at- 
 tempt to scale the wall. Pichegru, Cadoudal, and the other prominent con- 
 spirators were now in a state of terrible perplexity. They wandered by night 
 from house to house, often paying one or two thousand dollars for the shelter 
 of a few hours. One evening, Pichegru, in a state of despair, seized a pistol, 
 and was about to shoot himself through the head, when he was prevented by 
 a friend. On another occasion, with the boldness of desperation, he went to 
 the house of M. Marbois, one of the ministers of Napoleon, and implored 
 shelter. Marbois knew the noble character of the master whom he served. 
 With grief, but without hesitancy, he allowed his old companion the tempo- 
 rary shelter of his roof, and did not betray him. He subsequently informed 
 the First Consul of what he had done. Napoleon, with characteristic mag- 
 nanimity, replied to this avowal in a letter expressive of his high admiration 
 of his generosity in affording shelter under such circumstances to one who, 
 though an outlaw, had been his friend. 
 
 At length Pichegru was betrayed. He was asleep at night. His SWOR/ 
 and loaded pistols were by his side, ready for desperate defense. The gen- 
 darmes cautiously entered his room and sprang upon his bed. He was ? 
 powerful man, and he struggled with herculean but unavailing efforts. He 
 was, however, speedily overpowered, bound, and conducted to the Temple. 
 Soon after, George Cadoudal was arrested. He was in a cabriolet. A po- 
 
 AKREST OF CADOUDAL.
 
 426 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVll. 
 
 lice officer seized the bridle of the horse. Cadoudal drew a pistol and shot 
 him dead upon the spot. He then leaped from the cabriolet, and severely 
 wounded another officer who attempted to seize him. He made the utmost 
 efforts to escape on foot, under cover of the darkness of the night, but, sur- 
 rounded by the crowd, he was soon captured. This desperado appeared per- 
 fectly calm and self-possessed before his examiners. There were upon his 
 person a dagger, pistols, and twelve thousand dollars in gold and in bank 
 notes. Boldly he avowed his object of attacking the First Consul, and 
 proudly declared that he was acting in co-operation with the Bourbon princes. 
 
 The certainty of the conspiracy was now established, and the Senate 
 transmitted a letter of congratulation to the First Consul upon his escape. 
 In his reply, Napoleon remarked, " I have long since renounced the hope of 
 enjoying the pleasures of private life. All my days are occupied in fulfilling 
 the duties which my fate and the will of the French people have imposed 
 upon me. Heaven will watch over France and defeat the plots of the wicked. 
 The citizens may be without alarm ; my life will last as long as it will be 
 useful to the nation. But I wish the French people to understand, that ex- 
 istence without their confidence and affection would afford me no consola- 
 tion, and would, as regards them, have no beneficial objects." 
 
 Napoleon sincerely pitied Moreau and Pichegru, and wished to save them 
 from the ignominious death they merited. He sent a messenger to Moreau, 
 assuring him that a frank confession should secure his pardon and restora- 
 tion to favor. But it was far more easy for Napoleon to forgive than for the 
 proud Moreau to accept his forgiveness. With profound sympathy, Napo- 
 leon contemplated the position of Pichegru. As he thought of this illustrious 
 general, condemned and executed like a felon, he exclaimed to M. Real, 
 
 "What an end for the conqueror of Holland ! But the men of the Revo- 
 lution must not thus destroy each other. I have long thought of forming a 
 colony at Cayenne. Pichegru was exiled thither, and knows the place well ; 
 and of all our generals, he is best calculated to form an establishment there. 
 Go and visit him in his prison, and tell him that I pardon him ; that it is not 
 toward him or Moreau, or men like them, that I am inclined to be severe. 
 Ask him how many men, and what amount of money he would require for 
 founding a colony in Cayenne, and I will supply him, that he may go thith- 
 er and re-establish his reputation in rendering a great service to France." 
 Pichegru was so much affected by this magnanimity of the man whose death 
 he had been plotting, that he bowed his head and wept convulsively. The 
 illustrious man was conquered. 
 
 But Napoleon was much annoyed in not being able to lay hold upon one 
 of those Bourbon princes who had so long been conspiring against his Ijfe, 
 and inciting others to perils from which they themselves escaped. One 
 morning, in his study, he inquired of Talleyrand and Fouche respecting the 
 place of residence of the various members of the Bourbon family. He was 
 told, in reply, that Louis XVIII. and the Duke d'Angouleme lived in War- 
 saw ; the Count d'Artois and the Duke de Berri in London, where also were 
 the Princes of Conde, with the exception of the Duke d'Enghien, the most 
 enterprising of them all, who lived at Ettenheim, near Strasburg. It was in 
 this vicinity that the British ministers Taylor, Smith, and Drake had been
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 427 
 
 busying themselves in fomenting intrigues. The idea instantly flashed into 
 the mind of the First Consul that the Duke d'Enghien was thus lurking near 
 the frontier of France to take part in the conspiracy. He immediately sent 
 an officer to Ettenheim to make inquiries respecting the prince. The officer 
 returned with the report that the Duke d'Enghien was living there with a 
 Princess of Rohan, to whom he was warmly attached. He was often absent 
 from Ettenheim, and occasionally went in disguise to Strasburg. He was 
 in the pay of the British government, a soldier against his own country, and 
 had received orders from the British cabinet to repair to the banks of the 
 Rhine, to be ready to take advantage of any favorable opportunity which 
 might be presented to invade France. This was an act of high treason. 
 
 Napoleon immediately surmised that this prince was the Duke d'Enghien. 
 His frequent absences from Ettenheim were naturally associated with his fre- 
 quent interviews with the conspirators. It also so happened that there was 
 an officer in the suite of the prince who was treated with much consideration. 
 This was the Marquis of Thumery. The officer who had been sent from 
 Paris, incognito, to investigate the matter, misled by the German pronunci- 
 ation of the name, very honestly reported that General Dumouriez was in the 
 retinue of the duke. 
 
 This fatal report reached Paris on the 10th of March. That same morn- 
 ing a deposition had been made by one of the accomplices of Georges that 
 there was a conspiracy ; that a prince was at its head ; that this prince, if 
 he had not already come, would soon arrive. This deposition was laid be- 
 fore the First Consul at the same time with the report of the officer of gen- 
 darmerie from Ettenheim. The coincidence struck the mind of the First Con- 
 sul with great force. He no longer entertained a doubt that this prince was 
 the Duke d'Enghien. The supposed presence of General Dumouriez in his 
 suite added almost demonstrative confirmation to this decision. It was cer- 
 tain that the prince alluded to could not have come from London, since the 
 cliff at Biville had been so narrowly watched. The whole plot seemed now, 
 to Napoleon, as clear as day. As soon as the assassins had struck him down, 
 a mangled corpse, the Count d'Artois was to enter France through Norman- 
 dy, with Pichegru ; the Duke d'Enghien was to enter through Alsace, with 
 Dumouriez ; and thus the Bourbon princes, aided by foreign armies, were 
 to re-establish the Bourbon throne by the assassination of the First Consul, 
 and on the ruins of the Republic. This was, in fact, the design of the con- 
 spirators. The Duke d'Enghien was waiting for his orders to march ; but it 
 subsequently appeared that he had not taken any part in the plan for the as- 
 sassination of Napoleon. He was guilty of high treason, but he was not an 
 accomplice with murderers. He was a traitor, but he was not an assassin. 
 Yet, treasonable as was his enterprise, the heart refuses with severity to con- 
 demn. We almost sympathize in his attempts to regain, even by the aid of 
 foreign arms, the throne of his exiled family. Napoleon was no stranger to 
 the appeals of generosity. He felt for the exiled Bourbons, and ever mani- 
 fested a disposition to do every thing in his power to alleviate their bitter lot. 
 Had he not been fully convinced that the Duke d'Enghien was plotting his 
 assassination, he would not have consented even to his arrest. 
 
 Very judiciously Thiers remarks, " The First Consul's mind, usually so
 
 428 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [ClIAF. XXVII. 
 
 strong and clear, could not resist so many appearances so well calculated to 
 mislead. He was convinced. It is necessary to have witnessed minds un- 
 der the bias of an inquiry of this sort, and more especially when passion, of 
 whatever kind, disposes them to belief in what they suspect, to be able to 
 understand how ready such minds are to jump at conclusions, and to learn 
 how very precious are those delays and forms of law which save men from 
 those conclusions so quickly drawn from some merely accidental circum- 
 stances."* 
 
 A council was immediately called to decide what should be done. The 
 ministers were divided in opinion. Some urged sending a secret force to ar- 
 rest the duke, with all his papers and accomplices, and bring them to Paris. 
 Cambaceres, apprehensive of the effect that such a violation of the German 
 territory might produce in Europe, opposed the measure. Napoleon replied 
 to him kindly, but firmly, " I know your motive for speaking thus your de- 
 votion to me. I thank you for it. But I will not allow myself to be put to 
 death without resistance. I will make those people tremble, and teach them 
 to keep quiet for the time to come." 
 
 Orders were immediately given for three hundred dragoons to repair to the 
 banks of the Rhine, cross the river, dash forward to Ettenheim, surround the 
 town, arrest the prince and all his retinue, and convey them to Strasburg. 
 As soon as the arrest was made, Colonel Caulaincourt was directed to hasten 
 to the Grand Duke of Baden with an apology from the First Consul for vio- 
 lating his territory, stating that the gathering of the hostile emigrants so near 
 the frontiers of France authorized the French government to protect itself, 
 and that the necessity for prompt and immediate action rendered it impos- 
 sible to adopt more tardy measures. The Duke of Baden expressed his sat- 
 isfaction with the apology. 
 
 On the 15th of March, 1804, the detachment of dragoons set out, and pro- 
 ceeded with such rapidity as to surround the town before the duke could re- 
 ceive any notice of their approach. He was arrested in his bed, and hur- 
 ried, but partially clothed, into a carriage, and conveyed with the utmost 
 speed to Strasburg. He was from thence taken to the Castle of Vincennes, 
 in the vicinity of Paris. A military commission was formed, composed of 
 the colonels of the garrison, with General Hullin as President. The prince 
 was brought before the commission. 
 
 He was calm and haughty, for he had no apprehension of the fate which 
 awaited him. He was accused of high treason, in having sought to excite 
 civil war, and in bearing arms against France. To arraign him upon this 
 charge was to condemn him, for of this crime he was clearly guilty. Though 
 he denied all knowledge of the plot in question, boldly and rather defiantly 
 he avowed that he had borne arms against France, and that he was on the 
 banks of the Rhine for the purpose of serving against her again. 
 
 "I esteem," said he, " General Bonaparte as a great man, but, being my- 
 self a prince of the house of Bourbon, I have vowed against him eternal ha- 
 tred. A Conde," he added, "can never re-enter France but with arms in 
 his hands. My birth, my opinions, render me forever the enemy of your 
 government." 
 
 * Thiers' 1 Consulate and Empire, vol. i., p. 562.
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 429 
 
 ARREST OF THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN. 
 
 By the laws of the Republic, for a Frenchman to serve against France 
 was a capital offense. Napoleon, however, would not have enforced this 
 law in the case of the duke, had he not fully believed that he was implicated 
 in the conspiracy, and that it was necessary, to secure himself from assassin- 
 ation, that he should strike terror into the hearts of the Bourbons. The 
 prince implored permission to see the First Consul. The court refused this 
 request, which, if granted, would undoubtedly have saved his life. Napo- 
 leon also commissioned M. Real to proceed to Vincennes and examine the 
 prisoner. Had M. Real arrived in season to see the duke, he would have 
 made a report of facts which would have rescued the prince from his tragic- 
 al fate; but, exhausted by the fatigue of several days and nights, he had 
 retired to rest, and had given directions to his servants to permit him to 
 sleep undisturbed.* 
 
 The order of the First Consul was consequently not placed in his hands 
 until five o'clock in the morning. It was then too late. The court sorrow- 
 fully pronounced sentence of death. By torchlight the unfortunate prince 
 was led down the winding staircase which led into a fosse of the chateau. 
 There he saw, through the gray mist of the morning, a file of soldiers drawn 
 up for his execution. Calmly he cut off a lock of his hair, and, taking his 
 watch from his pocket, requested an officer to solicit Josephine to present 
 
 * " Put on trial according to the secret and summary method of court-martial, the prince, de- 
 nying all part in any plan of assassination, not only confessed, but rather vauntingly acknowledged 
 that he had borne arms against the French Republic ; and also, that he had been several times in 
 Strasburg. though he denied that it was for any treasonable purpose. His guilt thus established, 
 and that guilt high treason, a special law of the Republic rendering it a capital offense for a French 
 emigrant to return to France, and the general law against treason, by bearing arms against its 
 government, both violated, by the prisoner's confession, the court-martial had no option but to find 
 him guilty and sentence him to death. According to American ideas of treason and of individual- 
 ity, such a suffering prince was no martyr." Charles J. In^entoll. 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 430 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 those tokens of his love to the Princess de Rohan. Turning to the soldiers, 
 he said, " I die for my king and for France ;" and, giving the command to 
 fire, he fell, pierced by seven balls. 
 
 EXECUTION OF THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN. 
 
 There are many indications that Napoleon subsequently deplored the 
 tragical fate of the prince. It subsequently appeared that the mysterious 
 stranger, to whom the prisoners so often alluded, was Pichegru. When this 
 fact was communicated to Napoleon, he was deeply moved, and, musing long 
 and painfully, gave utterance to an exclamation of grief that he had con- 
 sented to the seizure of the unhappy prince. 
 
 He, however, took the whole responsibility of his execution upon himself. 
 In his testament at St. Helena, he wrote, " I arrested the Duke d'Enghien
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 43! 
 
 because that measure was necessary to the security, the interest, and the 
 honor of the French people, when the Count d'Artois maintained, on his own 
 admission, sixty assassins. In similar circumstances I would do the same." 
 
 The spirit is saddened in recording these terrible deeds of violence and of 
 blood. It was a period of anarchy, of revolution, of conspiracies, of war. 
 Fleets were bombarding cities, and tens of thousands were falling in a day 
 upon a single field of battle. Human life was considered of but little value. 
 Bloody retaliations and reprisals were sanctified by the laws of contending 
 nations. Surrounded by those influences, nurtured from infancy in the midst 
 of them, provoked beyond endurance by the aristocratic arrogance which re- 
 garded the elected sovereign of France as a usurper beyond the pale of 
 law, it is only surprising that Napoleon could have passed through a career 
 so wonderful, and so full of temptations, with a character so seldom sullied 
 by blemishes of despotic injustice. 
 
 This execution of a prince of the blood royal sent a thrill of indignation 
 through all the courts of Europe. The French embassadors were treated, in 
 many instances, with coldness amounting to insult. The Emperor Alexan- 
 der sent a remonstrance to the First Consul. He thus provoked a terrible 
 reply from the man who could hurl a sentence like a bomb-shell. The 
 young monarch of Russia was seated upon ,the bloodstained throne from 
 which the daggers of assassins had removed his father. And yet not one of 
 these assassins had been punished. 
 
 With crushing irony, Napoleon remarked, " France has acted as Russia, 
 under similar circumstances, would have done ; for had she been informed 
 that the assassins of Paul were assembled at a day's march from her fron- 
 tiers, would she not, at all hazards, have seized upon them there ?" This 
 was not one of these soft answers which turn away wrath : it stung Alexan- 
 der to the quick. 
 
 Absorbed by these cares, Napoleon had but little time to think of the im- 
 prisoned conspirators awaiting their trial. Pichegru, hearing no further 
 mention of the First Consul's proposal, and informed of the execution of the 
 Duke d'Enghien, gave himself up for lost. His proud spirit could not en- 
 dure the thought of a public trial and an ignominious punishment. One 
 night, after having read a treatise of Seneca upon suicide, he laid aside his 
 book, and by means of his silk cravat and a wooden peg, which he used as 
 a tourniquet, he strangled himself. His keepers found him in the morning 
 dead upon his bed. 
 
 The trial of the other conspirators soon came on. Moreau, respecting 
 whom great interest was excited, as one of the most illustrious of the Re- 
 publican generals, was sentenced to two years imprisonment. Napoleon im- 
 mediately pardoned him, and granted him permission to retire to America. 
 As that unfortunate general wished to dispose of his estate, Napoleon gave 
 orders for it to be purchased at the highest price. He also paid the expenses 
 of his journey to Barcelona, preparatory to his embarkation for the New 
 World. George Cadoudal, Polignac, Riviere, and several others, were con- 
 demned to death. There was something in the firm and determined energy 
 of George Cadoudal which singularly interested the mind of the First Con- 
 sul. He wished to save him.
 
 432 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 " There is one man," said Napoleon, " among the conspirators whom I re- 
 gret that is George Cadoudal. His mind is of the right stamp. In my 
 hands he would have done great things. I appreciate all the firmness of his 
 character, and I would have given it a right direction. I made Real say to 
 him, that if he would attach himself to me, I would not only pardon him, but 
 give him a regiment. What do I say ? I would have made him one of my 
 aides-de-camp. Such a step would have excited a great clamor, but I should 
 not have cared for it. Cadoudal refused every thing. He is a bar of iron 
 What can I now do ? He must undergo his fate, for such a man is too dan. 
 gerous in a party. It is a necessity of my situation." 
 
 The evening before his execution, Cadoudal desired the jailer to bring him 
 a bottle of excellent wine. Upon tasting the contents of the bottle brought, 
 and finding it of an inferior quality, he complained, stating that it was not 
 such wine as he desired. The jailer brutally replied, " It is good enough for 
 such a miscreant as you." Cadoudal, with perfect deliberation and compo- 
 sure, corked up the bottle, and, with his herculean arm, hurled it at the head 
 of the jailer with an aim so well directed that he fell lifeless at his feet. 
 The next day, with several of the conspirators, he was executed. 
 
 Josephir-e, who was ever to Napoleon a ministering angel of mercy, was 
 visited by the wife of Polignac, who, with tears of anguish, entreated Jose- 
 phine's intercession in behalf of her condemned husband. Her tender heart 
 was deeply moved by a wife's delirious agony, and she hastened to plead for 
 the life of the conspirator. Napoleon, endeavoring to conceal the struggle 
 of his heart beneath a severe exterior, replied, 
 
 "Josephine, you still interest yourself for my enemies. They are all of 
 them as imprudent as they are guilty. If I do not teach them a lesson they 
 will begin again, and will be the cause of new victims." 
 
 Thus repulsed, Josephine, almost in despair, retired. But she knew that 
 Napoleon was soon to pass through one of the galleries of the chateau. 
 Calling Madame Polignac, she hastened with her to the gallery, and they 
 both threw themselves in tears before Napoleon. He, for a moment, 
 glanced sternly at Josephine, as if to reproach her for the trial to which she 
 had exposed him. But his yielding heart could not withstand this appeal. 
 Taking the hand of Madame Polignac, he said, 
 
 " I am surprised in finding-, in a plot against my life, Armand Polignac, the 
 companion of my boyhood at the military school. I will, however, grant his 
 pardon to the tears of his wife. I only hope that this act of weakness on my 
 part may not encourage fresh acts of imprudence. Those princes, madame, 
 are most deeply culpable who thus compromise the lives of their faithful ser- 
 vants without partaking their perils." 
 
 General Lajolais had been condemned to death. He had an only daugh- 
 ter, fourteen years of a^e, who was remarkably beautiful. The poor child 
 was in a state of fearful agony in view of the fate of her father. One morn- 
 ing, without communicating her intentions to any one, she set out alone and 
 on foot for St. Cloud. Presenting herself before the gate of the palace, by 
 her youth, her beauty, her tears, and her woe, she persuaded the keeper, a 
 kind-hearted man, to introduce her to the apartment of Josephine and Hor- 
 tense. Napoleon had said to Josephine that she must not any more expose
 
 1804.] 
 
 THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 
 
 433 
 
 Lit 
 
 MADAME POLIONAC INTERCEDING FOB HER HUSBAND. 
 
 him to the pain of seeing the relatives of the condemned ; that if any peti- 
 tions were to be offered, they must be presented in writing. Josephine and 
 Hortense were, however, so deeply moved by the anguish of the distracted 
 child, that they contrived to introduce her to the presence of Napoleon as he 
 was passing through one of the apartments of the palace, accompanied by 
 several of his ministers. The fragile child, in a delirium of emotion, rushed 
 before him, precipitated herself at his feet, and exclaimed, " Pardon, sire ! 
 pardon for my father !" 
 
 Napoleon, surprised at this sudden apparition, exclaimed in displeasure, 
 " I have said that I wish for no such scenes. Who has dared to introduce 
 you here, in disregard of my prohibition ? Leave me, miss !" So saying, he 
 turned to pass from her. 
 
 But the child threw her arms around his knees, and with her eyes suffused
 
 434 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVIL 
 
 with tears, and agony depicted in every feature of her beautiful upturned 
 face, exclaimed, " Pardon ! pardon ! pardon ! it is for my father !" 
 
 " And who is your father?" said Napoleon, kindly. "Who are you ?' r 
 
 " I am Miss Lajolais," she replied, " and my father is doomed to die." 
 Napoleon hesitated for a moment, and then exclaimed, " Ah, miss, but this is 
 the second time in which your father has conspired against the state. I can 
 do nothing for you !" 
 
 " Alas, sire !" the poor child exclaimed, with great simplicity, " I know it : 
 but the first time papa was innocent ; and to-day I do not ask for justice I 
 implore pardon, pardon for him !" 
 
 Napoleon was deeply moved. His lip trembled, tears filled his eyes, and, 
 taking the little hand of the child in both of his own, he tenderly pressed it, 
 and said, 
 
 ^Well, my child ! yes ! For your sake I will forgive your father. This 
 is enough. Now rise and leave me." 
 
 At these words the suppliant fainted, and fell lifeless upon the floor. She 
 was conveyed to the apartment of Josephine, where she soon revived, and, 
 though in a state of extreme exhaustion, proceeded immediately to Paris. 
 M. Lavalette, then aid-de-camp of Napoleon, and his wife, accompanied her 
 to the prison of the Conciergerie with the joyful tidings. When she arrived 
 in the gloomy cell where her father was immured, she threw herself upon 
 his neck, and her convulsive sobbings, for a time, stifled all possible powers 
 of utterance. Suddenly her frame became convulsed, her eyes fixed, and 
 she fell in entire unconsciousness into the arms of Madame Lavalette. 
 When she revived, reason had fled, and the affectionate daughter was a 
 hopeless maniac ! 
 
 Napoleon, in the evening, was informed of this new calamity. He drop- 
 ped his head in silence, mused painfully, brushed a tear from his eye, and 
 was heard to murmur, in a low tone of voice, "Poor child ! poor child! A 
 father who has such a daughter is still more culpable. I will take care of 
 her and of her mother." 
 
 Six others of the conspirators also soon received a pardon. Such was 
 the termination of the Bourbon conspiracy for the assassination of Napo- 
 leon. 
 
 Upon this subject the " Encyclopedia Americana" remarks, with much 
 candor : 
 
 " It is known to every impartial investigator that Napoleon was far from 
 being of a cruel disposition ; that he was never deaf to prayers for mercy, if 
 the great interests of France allowed him to listen to them. He pardoned 
 most of the persons implicated in the conspiracy of Georges ; he pardoned 
 the prince of Hatzfield ; he offered pardon even to Staps, the young assassin 
 at Schonbrun ; in short, proofs enough exist to show that his disposition was 
 the opposite of cruel. The narratives of several persons concerned in the 
 duke's death tend also to exculpate the First Consul. Savary, duke of 
 Rovigo, informs us in his Memoires that the Consul heard, through him, 01 
 the execution of the prince with amazement, and greatly regretted it. The 
 Count Real, Counselor of State, then prefect of Paris, and therefore charged 
 with the police of that city, declares the same. He has asserted in the
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 435 
 
 United States, where he has lived a long time, in presence of Joseph Bona- 
 parte, count de Survilliers, Mr. Duponceau, General Lallemand, Captain 
 Sary, and others, that Napoleon did not know of the execution of the duke 
 until after it had taken place, and that he learned it with amazement from Sa- 
 vary's mouth, and that the Consul had intended to set the prince at liberty." 
 
 This agrees with the following statement, which we have from the most 
 authentic source. Joseph, the brother of the Consul, found him, after this 
 catastrophe, much affected, and highly indignant at those persons whom he 
 accused of having occasioned this catastrophe. He regretted much that he 
 had lost so fine an opportunity of doing an act of mercy. Even long after, 
 in conversation with his brother, he frequently alluded to this sad event, and 4 
 with his usual vivacity, observed, 
 
 " It would have been noble to pardon a prince who, in plotting against me, 
 had done what his position demanded of him. He was young," continued 
 Napoleon ; " my favors would have attached him to me ; he would have be- 
 come better acquainted with the state of France, and would have ended by 
 entering my service. It would have been gratifying to have had the de- 
 scendant of the great Conde for aid-de-camp." This view is corroborated 
 by Napoleon's own assertions, in Las Casas' Memorial, vol. vii., p. 437. The 
 declarations of Napoleon himself, in his will, however, are at variance with 
 this view of the subject. He there says, " I ordered the Duke d'Enghien to 
 be arrested and executed, because it was necessary for the safety, the wel- 
 fare, and the honor of the French nation. Under the same circumstances I 
 should act in the same way ; the death of the Duke d'Enghien is to be im- 
 puted to those who plotted in London against the life of the First Consul, 
 and who intended to bring the Duke de Berri by Biville, and the Duke d'En- 
 ghien by Strasburg, into France." 
 
 Savary, who was himself a witness of the regrets of the Consul on account 
 of the death of the duke, gives the following explanation of this inconsist- 
 ency : that Napoleon preferred, even on his death-bed, to take the charge 
 of the duke's death upon himself, rather than to allow his power to be doubt- 
 ed ; and that he acted thus from regard to the dignity of a sovereign, who, 
 if he enjoys the credit of the good which is done in his name, would act un- 
 worthily in throwing the blame of the evil done in his name upon others. 
 He says, "When the Emperor uses the words ' Le Due d'Enghien est mort, 
 parceque je Tai voulu,' his meaning amounts only to this : ' When I reigned, 
 no one dared conceive the thought of disposing of the life or liberty of any 
 one. It might have been possible to impose upon me, but never for a mo- 
 ment to encroach upon my power.' 
 
 " It is certain that, in the critical situation in which he found himself, walk- 
 ing upon volcanoes, still active and ever ready for eruption, he could not 
 have suffered it to be believed that such an act could be committed without 
 his consent. A belief in his power was of the utmost importance to the 
 peace and order of France. The welfare of France required that he should 
 take upon himself the responsibility of every act done in his name. 
 
 " Bignon says that, in a note written by Napoleon himself, not yet pub- 
 lished, there is the following passage respecting the Duke d'Enghien ' If 
 guilty, the commission was right to sentence him to death ; if innocent, they
 
 436 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CilAP. XXVII. 
 
 ought to have acquitted him, because no order whatever can justify a judge 
 in violating his conscience.' " 
 
 The following statements from the " American Quarterly Review" of Sep. 
 tember, 1830, also throw much light upon this very important subject : "We 
 have it in our power, from high authority, that of a person not now in this 
 country, to state, what the Duke of Rovigo was not aware of, the reason 
 why the Duke d'Enghien suffered death without the knowledge or sanction 
 of the First Consul. The prisoner, in extremity, asked to see the First Con- 
 sul, which was not permitted ; but the judge advocate, Dantancourt, hu- 
 manely suggested to him to write a letter, which was done, and the letter 
 sent to Real. During that eventful night the First Consul had been called 
 up five times, on the arrival of as many messengers, with insignificant dis- 
 patches. So often disturbed, he gave orders not to be called again unless 
 for a very serious occasion. M. Real sent the Duke d'Enghien's letter to 
 Malmaison by a private horseman of the gendarmerie, who, uninformed as 
 to its contents, gave no intimation that it required immediate attention. It 
 was laid on a table, where it had remained unnoticed till after the First Con- 
 sul had deliberately risen, and made his toilet as usual, without the least no- 
 tion of its contents. In the mean while indeed, before he got out of bed 
 the ill-starred writer of that neglected letter was shot. The interview be- 
 tween the First Consul and Real, which immediately followed that between 
 the First Consul and Savary, disclosed the deplorable cause, as Savary's 
 tidings had revealed the catastrophe. Real's reception was that of a man 
 who had been guilty of unpardonable negligence. He will, no doubt, at 
 some proper time, submit his account to the world. But he knows that the 
 Duke d'Enghien was not sacrificed to a tyrant's passions, policy, or fears ; 
 that the general agitation and very natural misunderstanding which his fam- 
 ily and friends had occasioned throughout the capital and the council, the 
 over-zealous, perhaps treacherous advice of some, the over-active, precipitate 
 dispatch of others, and one of those misadventures which are so common 
 in the affairs of this world, are the causes to which this disaster is owing. 
 Once done, however, nulla vestigia retrorsum, never to recant, or apologize, 
 or recede was one of Bonaparte's imperious maxims. He felt the full force 
 of the French proverb, 'that whoever excuses, accuses himself,' and nothing 
 would induce him to disown a deed done under his orders, though they were 
 violated to his infinite injury and mortification, in almost every stage of the 
 proceeding. Both accounts are correct ; at all events, both exculpate Napo- 
 leon from the haste of the process. 
 
 "We can give assurance, on authority which can not mistake or be mis- 
 taken (if wrong, it must be intentionally so, and we have been deceived our- 
 selves, which we can not believe), that the idea of the death of the Duke 
 d'Enghien never crossed the First Consul's mind till he was astonished and 
 confounded by the tidings communicated to him by Savary of his execu- 
 tion. Whatever the precipitation of some of his ministers or the intrigues 
 of others may have designed ; however his own ideas may have been sur- 
 prised, his measures hurnea, and tiie it&ult enchained, it is certain, unless 
 we are grossly misinformed (and if we are, it is designedly), that the sudden, 
 violent, and impolitic death of the victim of various untoward circumstance?
 
 1804.] THE BOURBON CONSPIRACY. 437 
 
 was as unexpected and as unwelcome to him at whose door it is laid as an 
 unpardonable crime, as to any one living. The question was not whether 
 he should be put to death, but whether he should be put on his trial." 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, immediately after the arrest of the Duke d'Enghien, 
 called upon his brother Napoleon. He thus records the interview. Joseph, 
 alluding to some past events, had said, " Who would then have thought that 
 you would be one day called on to pronounce, as a judge, the destiny of a 
 grandson of the Prince of Conde ? At these words," continues Joseph, " I 
 saw Napoleon's countenance change, and a tear start, for my brother Na- 
 poleon's nature was good and kind, though he often took as much pains to 
 appear stern as others do to appear gentle. Leaning on my arm, 'What 
 events,' said he, ' and what misfortunes in that family ! But who knows 
 whether, out of this arrest, may not spring good for the family, for the coun- 
 try, and for me ? for out of it I will find means to show what I really am. I 
 am strong enough not to fear the Bourbons. I am great enough, I think, for 
 them not to suppose that I will degrade myself to the miserable part of 
 Monk. They tell me that the Duke d'Enghien is even disposed to antici- 
 pate my favorable sentiments by writing to me ; but whether he does or does 
 not, he shall find in me none but favorable dispositions ; a wish to pardon 
 him not merely the wish, but the will. I, who am here to conciliate, I like 
 to imagine to myself the romance of reconciliation, and I smile at the possi- 
 bility of extending a friendly hand to the unfortunate Duke d'Enghien. You 
 would like to see, one day, a descendant of the great Conde among your 
 brother's aides-de-camp. For my part, I should be delighted, I assure you^ 
 and my heart is filled with good and generous sentiments toward him.' */* 
 
 Such then are the established facts. The Duke d'Enghien was guilty of 
 high treason. He was in the pay of England, with arms in his hands, fight, 
 ing against his own country. He was lingering on the frontier, ready to 
 march with invading armies into France. Yet Napoleon was generously 
 disposed to overlook this crime of high treason, in reference to the peculiar 
 political misfortunes of the family of the duke. But the Bourbons had en- 
 tered into an atrocious conspiracy for the assassination of the First Consul. 
 The evidence seemed overwhelming that the duke was actively engaged in 
 this conspiracy. Napoleon resolved to bring him to trial, still magnanimous- 
 ly intending to pardon the unhappy man. He thought that such an act of 
 clemency would prove his kind feelings toward the rejected Bourbons, and 
 that he had no disposition to aggravate their misfortunes. .The duke was 
 arrested, accused of the crime of high treason, tried, found guilty beyond all 
 possibility of doubt, condemned, and, by an untoward accident, executed be- 
 fore Napoleon had an opportunity to interpose the contemplated pardon. 
 The duke fell before the majesty of a just law. Napoleon regretted his 
 death ; he regretted it doubly when he learned that, though the duke, by his 
 own defiant confession, was guilty of high treason, still, that he probably was 
 not involved with the conspirators in plotting assassination. But he proudly 
 refused to make any apology to the Bourbon clamor. He would not at- 
 tempt to mitigate unjust obloquy by criminating the officers of the law. 
 With that spirit of self-respect to which none can refuse their homage, he 
 assumed the whole responsibility of the act,
 
 438 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 Upon the basis of such facts, Lamartine, echoing the sentiments of aris- 
 tocratic Europe, exclaims, " The First Consul had said, ' Tis well /' But 
 conscience, equity, and humanity protest alike against this satisfaction of a 
 murderer who applauds himself. He claimed the crime to himself alone in 
 his revelations at St. Helena. Let him, then, keep it all to himself! He has 
 mowed down millions of men by the hands of war, and mad humanity, par- 
 tial against itself for what it calls glory, has pardoned him. He has slain 
 one alone cruelly, like a coward, in the dark, by the consciences of prevari- 
 cating judges, and by the balls of mercenary executioners, without risking 
 his own breast not as a warrior, but even as a murderer. Neither mankind 
 nor history will ever pardon him this spilling of blood. A tomb has been 
 raised to him under the dome built by Louis XIV. at the Palace of the Inva- 
 lides, where the statues of twelve victories, hewn out of one single block of 
 granite, harmonizing with the massy pillars which support the lofty edifice, 
 seem to stand, the sentinels of ages, around the urn of porphyry which con- 
 tains his bones. But there is in the shade, and seated on his sepulchre, an 
 invisible statue which tarnishes and blights all the others the statue of a 
 young man, torn by hired nocturnal assassins from the arms of her he loved, 
 from the inviolable asylum in which he confided, and slaughtered, by the 
 light of a lantern, at the foot of the palace of his sires. People go to visit, 
 with a cold curiosity, the battle-fields of Marengo, of Austerlitz, of Wagram, 
 of Leipsic, of Waterloo ; they walk over them with dry eyes ; then they are 
 shown, at the angle of a wall round the foundations of Vincennes, at the 
 bottom of a trench, a place covered with nettles and marsh-mallows, and they 
 exclaim, ' It is there !' With a cry of indignation, they carry from the spot 
 an eternal pity for the victim, and an implacable resentment against the as- 
 
 sassin 
 
 " This resentment is a vengeance for the past, but it is also a lesson for 
 the future. Let the ambitious, whether soldiers, tribunes, or kings, reflect, 
 that if there are mercenary soldiers to serve them, and flatterers to excuse 
 them while they reign, there is the conscience of humanity afterward to 
 judge them, and pity to detest them. The murderer has but his hour, the 
 victim has all eternity !"* 
 
 This legal execution of one convicted of high treason the Allies have au- 
 daciously stigmatized as murder and assassination. Had European aristocra- 
 cy crushed Republicanism in America as in France, Washington would also 
 have been called the murderer and assassin of Andre. He was so called, 
 till the success of this great republic overwhelmed the ridiculous accusation 
 
 * " When Peltier was acquitted, in defiance of Consul Bonaparte's efforts to convict him, of li- 
 bels promoting his assassination, I was in London, where the French Bourbon princes and their 
 abettors, almost without concealment, ' by divine right,' urged that atrocity. At the same time, I was 
 hard by there when Colonel Despard and several others, convicted of treason, were executed, ac- 
 cording to the terrific English method of that punishment. The proof of Despard's treason was 
 slight, that of Enghien's unquestionable. Not a sigh, scarce a sympathy, followed Colonel Des- 
 pard's mangled corpse to the grave, while myriads of bosoms soon swelled with indignation at the 
 death of the Duke d'Enghien." History of the Second War in the United States, by Charles J. In- 
 gersoll. 
 
 Treason against the Emperor Napoleon was considered a virtue which merited reward ; treason 
 against King George III. was a crime which merited death by torture.
 
 1804.] THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 439 
 
 with contempt. Our sympathies cluster around D'Enghien and Andre', yet 
 they both were guilty and merited their doom. Washington would gladly 
 have pardoned Andre could he have done so without periling the cause of 
 American freedom, and Napoleon grieved deeply that an untoward acci- 
 dent deprived him of the opportunity of extending a pardon to the Duke 
 d'Enghien. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 
 
 Desire for the Empire Decree of the Senate Address of Cambaceres Reply of Napoleon Fete 
 at Boulogne Naval Battle Letter to the Pope His Reception at Paris Religious Sanction of 
 the Marriage of Napoleon and Josephine Coronation The Empire. 
 
 THE conspiracy of the French princes for the assassination of Napoleon 
 roused Republican France to increased efforts to consolidate the new gov- 
 ernment. The execution of the Duke d'Enghien, a prince of the blood roy- 
 al, exasperated the feudal monarchs of Europe, and inspired them with ad- 
 ditional hostility against the supremacy of the people. The Royalists con- 
 sidered Napoleon, with his almost superhuman energy, as the only obstacle 
 to their projects. They were ready, at every hazard, to strike him down. 
 The people of France, profoundly admiring the wisdom and efficiency of his 
 government, were grateful for the harmony which he had restored to the Re- 
 public, and for the abounding prosperity with which, by his labors, it had 
 been crowned. 
 
 Immediately, in the legislative bodies, in the streets of Paris, through all 
 the principal towns in the departments, and in the camps distributed along 
 the coasts, all tongues were busy in pleading that the crown should be placed 
 upon that brow on whose safety reposed the destinies of France. It was de- 
 clared that experience had abundantly proved that republicanism was not 
 adapted to the genius of the French people ; that the object of the Revolu- 
 tion was accomplished in reforming abuses, in abolishing the old feudal sys- 
 tem, and in limiting the royal authority ; and that now the dignity and the 
 safety of France required that Napoleon should be invested with regal power, 
 that he might thus be on a level with surrounding monarchs. 
 
 Never was the impulsive character of the French people more conspicu- 
 ous than on this occasion. Fouche, in the ardor of his zeal, was the first to 
 approach Napoleon with an expression of the universal desire. In reiterated 
 interviews, he represented the necessity of putting an end to the anxieties of 
 France by returning to that monarchical form of government which might 
 appease the hostility of the surrounding nations, which would invest the per- 
 son of Napoleon with new sacredness, and which would consolidate the work 
 of the Revolution. A blaze of enthusiasm flamed over all France at the idea 
 of investing the First Consul, the friend and the idol of the people, with im- 
 perial dignity. Addresses were now poured in upon Napoleon without num- 
 ber, imploring him to accept the crown of France. The First Consul sent 
 for Lebrun and Cambaceres, to confer with them upon the subject. Frank'
 
 440 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 ly he avowed that he wished to ascend the throne, stating that it was mani- 
 fest to every one that France desired a king ; that every day she was reced- 
 ing farther from the wild excesses of the Revolution ; that the adoption of 
 the forms of monarchy would be an act of conciliation to the rest of Europe, 
 and would enable him, with less opposition from abroad, to promote the 
 popular interests of France. 
 
 Napoleon, with his accustomed prudence, immediately sent to most of the 
 governments of Europe to ascertain if the change would be acceptable to 
 them. France was at war with England, consequently the consent of that 
 power was out of the question. The hostile attitude which Russia had re- 
 cently assumed rendered it a point of dignity not to address her. Prussia, 
 Austria, Spain, and the minor powers were consulted. As it was now gen- 
 erally esteemed impossible, throughout Europe, that the Bourbons could be 
 restored, all the courts experienced much satisfaction at the idea of having 
 the Republic abolished in France. The King of Prussia wrote, with his 
 own hand, to his minister in Paris in the following cordial terms : 
 
 " I unhesitatingly authorize you to seize the earliest possible opportunity 
 to make known to M.Talleyrand that, after having seen the supreme power 
 conferred for life upon the First Consul, I should see, with still greater inter- 
 est, the public order, established by his wisdom and his great actions, con- 
 solidated by the hereditary establishment of his family, and that I should not 
 hesitate to acknowledge it." 
 
 This letter, written but about a fortnight after the execution of the Duke 
 d'Enghien, seems to indicate that, however deeply that event might have 
 been deplored by the courts of Europe, the exasperating circumstances 
 which led to the reprisal were fully appreciated. The Emperor Francis of 
 Austria promptly assured Napoleon of his readiness to recognize that change 
 in the government of France which could not but be acceptable to the sur- 
 rounding monarchies. This was the general sentiment throughout all of the 
 courts of Europe. 
 
 Bourrienne, in conversation with Napoleon, one day remarked that he 
 thought it would be impossible for Napoleon to get himself acknowledged 
 Emperor by the old reigning families of Europe. " If it comes to that," he 
 replied, " I will dethrone them all, and then I shall be the oldest sovereign 
 among them." 
 
 The Senate of France, by unanimous acclamation, without a single dis- 
 sentient voice, passed the decree, " That Napoleon Bonaparte should be 
 named Emperor, and in that capacity invested with the government of the 
 French Republic." The Senate, in its enthusiasm, resolved to go in a body 
 to St. Cloud, to present the decree to the First Consul, and to salute him as 
 Emperor. It was the 18th of May, 1804. The fields were green, the trees 
 in full foliage, and the bland atmosphere of the most lovely of spring morn- 
 ings exhilarated all spirits. A long procession of carriages, escorted by a 
 brilliant guard of cavalry, conveyed the senators to the rural palace of St. 
 Cloud. Napoleon, with that perfect tranquillity of spirit which seemed nev- 
 er to forsake him, was ready to receive them. Josephine stood by his side, 
 flushed with agitation, trembling in anticipation of the future, yet gratified at 
 the new honor about to be conferred upon her husband. Cambaceres, the
 
 1804.] THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 44 j 
 
 President of the Senate, bowing profoundly before his former colleague, now 
 his new sovereign, thus addressed him : 
 
 " Sire, Four years ago the affection and the gratitude of the French peo- 
 ple intrusted the reins of government to your majesty, and the constitution 
 of the state had already left to you the choice of a successor. The more im- 
 posing title which is now decreed to you, therefore, is but a tribute that the 
 nation pays to its own dignity, and to the necessity it experiences of offer- 
 ing you new proofs of its daily increasing respect and attachment. How, 
 indeed, can the French people reflect, without enthusiasm, upon the happi- 
 ness it has experienced since Providence prompted it to throw itself into your 
 arms ? Our armies were vanquished, the finances in disorder, public credit 
 was annihilated ; the remnants of our ancient splendor were disputed by fac- 
 tions ; the ideas of religion, and even of morality, were obscured. Your ma- 
 jesty appeared ; you recalled victory to our standards ; you restored order 
 and economy in the public expenditure. .The nation, encouraged by the use 
 you made of them, took confidence in its own resources. Your wisdom 
 calmed down the fury of parties ; religion saw her altars raised again. Fi- 
 nally and that is, doubtless, the greatest of the miracles worked by your 
 genius that people, whom civil ferments had rendered indocile to all re- 
 straints, and inimical to all authority, have been, by you, taught to cherish 
 and respect a power exercised only for its repose and glory." 
 
 The moment these words were concluded, the cry of " Vive 1'Empereur" 
 resounded, in tones of deepest enthusiasm, throughout the palace. The 
 multitude, drawn by the occasion to the court-yard and the gardens, caught 
 the cry, and repeated it with reiterated and joyful shouts. As soon as si- 
 lence was restored, Napoleon briefly replied in the following terms : 
 
 " Every thing which can contribute to the weal of the country is essen- 
 tially connected with my happiness. I accept the title, which you believe 
 to be useful to the glory of the nation. I submit to the people the sanction 
 of the law of hereditary succession. I hope that France will never repent 
 the honors with which she shall invest my family. At all events, my spirit 
 will no longer be with my posterity on that day when it shall cease to merit 
 the love and confidence of the Grand Nation." 
 
 Cambaceres then addressed a few words of congratulation to the Empress 
 Josephine, to which she replied only by her tears. Napoleon, desirous of 
 surrounding the newly-established throne by all those influences which could 
 give it stability, resolved to have himself crowned by the Pope in Paris. It 
 will be remembered that Pope Pius VII. was the personal friend of Napo- 
 leon. He felt grateful for the favors which the First Consul had conferred 
 upon the Church. Never before had a Pope condescended to leave Rome to 
 place the crown upon a monarch's brow. Pius VII., however, promptly 
 yielded to the wishes of his illustrious friend. 
 
 It was now the month of May. Napoleon wished, before the coronation, 
 to accomplish his projected attack upon England. The preparations were 
 finally so matured that even Napoleon became sanguine of success. He im- 
 mediately visited all the camps upon the coast, and inspected them with the 
 utmost care. He even examined the flotilla, boat by boat, to see if every 
 order had been strictly attended to. Every thing was in accordance with his
 
 442 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 wishes. A magnificent spectacle was arranged, in the presence of the En- 
 glish squadron, for the distribution of the crosses of the " Legion of Honor." 
 Napoleon was seated upon a throne constructed on the brink of the ocean, 
 with his magnificent army assembled in the form of a semicircular amphi- 
 theatre around him. The shouts of a hundred thousand men filled the air. 
 The explosion of thousands of pieces of artillery of heaviest calibre sent their 
 reverberations even to the shores of England. The impressive scene filled 
 
 THE FETE AT BOULOGNE 
 
 all hearts. In the midst of the imposing spectacle, a division of the flotilla 
 from Havre, approaching Boulogne, was attacked by the English squadron, 
 in view of the countless multitude surrounding the Emperor. Napoleon, 
 while engaged in the solemnities of the occasion, from time to time turned 
 his telescope to watch the progress of the fight. The gun-boats entered the 
 harbor in safety, thus crowning the festivities of the day. 
 
 A short time afterward Napoleon had another opportunity of witnessing a 
 battle between the flotilla and the English ships. It was the 26th of August, 
 at two o'clock in the afternoon, when he was in the roadstead inspecting the 
 line of gun-boats. The English squadron, consisting of twenty ships, was
 
 1804.] 
 
 THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 
 
 443 
 
 moored at some distance from the shore. A ship, detaching herself from the 
 main body, approached the French line to reconnoiter and to discharge some 
 broadsides. A few gun-boats immediately weighed anchor and bore down 
 upon the ship. Seeing this, the English sent a re-enforcement of one frigate 
 and several brigs to attack the gun-boats. The Emperor was in his barge 
 with Admiral Brueys. He ordered his barge to be steered into the midst of 
 the boats that were fighting, and to advance full sail for the frigate. He 
 was aware that the sailors and soldiers, who admired his fearlessness upon 
 the shore, sometimes asked themselves if he would be equally daring upon 
 the sea. He wished to enlighten them upon that point. 
 
 The imperial barge, brilliantly decorated with banners, rapidly approached 
 the frigate. She, suspecting the precious freight it bore, reserved her fire, 
 that with one crushing broadside she might annihilate her audacious foe. 
 The Minister of Marine, trembling for the fate of the Emperor, seized the 
 rudder, and was about to alter the course of the barge. An imperative ges- 
 ture from Napoleon arrested the movement, and the barge held on its course. 
 Napoleon was examining the frigate with his telescope, when suddenly she 
 discharged her broadside. The tempest of iron was hurled around them, 
 lashing the water into foam, yet no one was injured. The rest of the gun- 
 boats rapidly came up, and assailed the English with a shower of balls and 
 grape-shot. Soon the frigate, seriously damaged, was obliged to stand out 
 to sea. The brigs soon followed, seriously battered, and one so riddled that 
 she was seen to sink. 
 
 THE GUN-BOATS AND THE FRIGATE. 
 
 Napoleon, delighted with the result of the battle, wrote to Marshal Soult : 
 " The little battle at which I was present has produced an immense effect in 
 England. It has created a real alarm there. The howitzers which are on
 
 444 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 board the gun-boats tell admirably. The private information that I have re- 
 ceived makes the loss of the enemy sixty wounded, and from twelve to fif- 
 teen killed. The frigate was much damaged." The loss of the French was 
 but two killed and seven wounded. 
 
 England was now thoroughly alarmed. It was evident to all that, her- 
 culean as was the enterprise of invading England, Napoleon had accumu* 
 lated materials commensurate with the undertaking. All France was in a 
 state of the highest enthusiasm. The most magnificent preparations were 
 being made for the coronation. The rumor had spread abroad that the Pope 
 was coming to Paris to crown the Emperor. The devout population heard 
 the news with wonder and admiration. Opposition, however, arose in the 
 Council of State. Many arguments were urged against receiving the crown 
 from the Sovereign Pontiff, which was, in reality, conferred by the will of the 
 nation and the exploits of the army. Napoleon was as powerful in the cab- 
 inet as on the field of battle. His arguments were as decisive as his bomb- 
 shells. He terminated the discussion by this pointed question : 
 
 " Gentlemen, you are deliberating at Paris, at the Tuileries. Suppose 
 that you were in London, in the British cabinet that you were the minis- 
 ters of the King of England, and that you were informed that at this moment 
 the Pope crosses the Alps to crown the Emperor of the French. Would 
 you look upon that as a triumph for England or for France ?" This settled 
 the question beyond reply. 
 
 Napoleon justly considered that the benediction of the Pope would, in the 
 eyes of Catholic Europe, be a seal of his legitimacy as a sovereign which 
 nothing else could supply. His letter to the Pope was thus expressed : 
 " Most Holy Father, The happy effect produced upon the character and 
 the morality of my people by the re-establishment of religion, induces me to 
 beg your Holiness to give me a new proof of your interest in my destiny, 
 and in that of this great nation, in one of the most important conjunctures 
 presented in the annals of the world. I beg you to come and give, to the 
 highest degree, a religious character to the anointing and coronation of the 
 first Emperor of the French. That ceremony will acquire a new lustre by 
 being performed by your Holiness in person. It will bring down upon your- 
 self and our people the blessing of God, whose decrees rule the destiny of 
 empires and families. Your Holiness is aware of the affectionate sentiments 
 I have long borne toward you, and can thence judge of the pleasure that this 
 occurrence will afford me of testifying them anew. We pray God that He 
 may preserve you, most Holy Father, for many years to rule and govern our 
 mother, the Holy Church. Your dutiful son, NAPOLEON." 
 
 The Pope was not insensible to ridicule. The nickname his enemies gave 
 him, of Chaplain to Napoleon, wounded him deeply. And though the Pope 
 for a little time hesitated, he at length yielded himself entirely to the wishes 
 of the Emperor. 
 
 Josephine trembled in view 7 of the height to which her husband had at- 
 tained. Rumors still filled the air that state necessity required that Napo- 
 leon should be the founder of a new dynasty, that he should transmit his 
 crown to his descendants, and that divorce was essential, that he might be 
 blessed with an heir. She ardently desired tb^t she might be crowned with
 
 1804.] THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 445 
 
 her husband, for it would be a new tie to bind Napoleon to her, and a new 
 guarantee against that divorce which ever haunted her with the most fearful 
 forebodings. Napoleon loved her tenderly, and yet was deeply impressed 
 with the apparent policy of entering into a new nuptial alliance. A scene 
 occurred at this time between them, when Napoleon was so much overcome 
 by the fearful apprehensions, the love and the grief of his wife, that, in a sud- 
 den outburst of affection, he threw his arms around her, pressed her to his 
 heart, and assured her that, whatever policy might require, he never could 
 gain strength to separate from one whom he loved so dearly. He declared 
 that she should be crowned with him, and that she should receive at his side, 
 and from the hands of the Pope, the divine consecration. 
 
 It was now the last of November. Every thing was in readiness at Notre 
 Dame. Pius VII. commenced his journey from Rome to Paris. He was 
 every where received in France with the highest marks of respect and at- 
 tention. As the pontifical cortege arrived at the Palace of Fontainebleau, 
 Napoleon, on horseback, with a magnificent retinue, met the Pope. Alight- 
 ing, the Emperor embraced the Holy Father, and the two sovereigns entered 
 the carriage together, the Emperor courteously assigning the right side to 
 the Head of the Church. At the rural palace of Fontainebleau he was re- 
 ceived with a degree of splendor which both delighted and amazed him. 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
 THE TOPE AT THE Tl'lLEKlES.
 
 446 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 The mild and benevolent countenance and the dignified manners of Pius 
 VII. won all hearts. After three days of repose, the Emperor and the Pope, 
 entering the same carriage, proceeded to Paris. The Pope was lodged in 
 the Pavilion of Flora in the palace of the Tuileries, which had been sump- 
 tuously prepared for his reception. With a delicacy characteristic of Napo- 
 leon, the Pope found his apartments furnished in every respect precisely like 
 those he had left in the Vatican. Thus the aged prelate truly found himself 
 at home. 
 
 The populace of Paris daily crowded beneath the windows of the Tuileries 
 soliciting his appearance. The fame of his benignity had spread through the 
 capital. Pius VII. frequently presented himself at the balcony of the TuiU 
 cries, always accompanied by Napoleon, and was saluted with most enthu- 
 siastic acclamations. The vast throng threw themselves upon their knees 
 before him, and implored the pontifical benediction. Strange inconsistency ! 
 But ten years before, the populace of Paris had hunted the priests of Rome 
 through the streets, and had shot them down without mercy. 
 
 It will be remembered that, at the time of the marriage of Napoleon and 
 Josephine, all religious ceremonies had been abolished, and they were only 
 united by a civil bond. Napoleon had endeavored to reform this state of 
 things, and, upon the marriage of his sister to Murat, he insisted upon their 
 receiving the nuptial benediction of the Church. 
 
 Josephine immediately interceded with the Pope to secure for herself the 
 blessing of a religious sanction upon her union. With deep emotion and 
 heartfelt delight, on the very night preceding the coronation, the marriage 
 between Napoleon and Josephine was secretly celebrated in the chapel of 
 the Tuileries. Upon this occasion Josephine was perfectly overcome with 
 emotion. On the following morning, her reddened eyes still testified to the 
 tears she had shed. 
 
 Sunday, the 2d of December, 1804, was a clear, cold winter's day. All 
 Paris was in a state of the highest enthusiasm to witness the coronation of 
 the Emperor. The church of Notre Dame was decorated with surpassing 
 magnificence. The most gorgeous drapery of silken velvet ornamented the 
 walls, descending from the roof to the pavement. An immense throne was 
 erected for Napoleon and Josephine at the west end of the church, raised 
 upon twenty-four steps. The Emperor left the Tuileries in a carriage com- 
 pletely surrounded with glass. His costume was designed by the most dis- 
 tinguished painter of the day. The acclamations of immense crowds fol- 
 lowed him, and all were delighted to see the idol of the people, become the 
 Emperor of France. 
 
 With a golden laurel upon that noble brow, which attracted the attention 
 of every observer, Napoleon entered the church, while five hundred musi- 
 cians pealed forth a solemn chant. The Pope anointed the Emperor, blessed 
 the sword and the sceptre, and, as he approached to take up the crown, Na- 
 poleon firmly and with dignity took it in his own hand, and placed it himself 
 upon his head. This characteristic act produced an indescribable effect upon 
 the assembly. Napoleon then took the crown prepared for the Empress, 
 and approaching Josephine as she knelt before him, with visible tenderness 
 and affection placed it upon her head. Josephine for a moment gazed ear
 
 1804.] 
 
 THE IMPERIAL THRONE. 
 
 447 
 
 nestly, with swimming eyes, into the face of her illustrious and idolized 
 husband. Napoleon, with a recognizing glance of love, returned the gaze. 
 Josephine, entirely overcome, bowed her head and burst into tears. An en- 
 thusiastic shout of " Live the Emperor" burst from every lip, and resounded 
 through the arches of Notre Dame. The thunders of innumerable cannon, 
 reverberating through the streets of Paris, announced to all the inhabitants 
 of the metropolis that Napoleon was the consecrated Emperor of France. 
 
 THE CORONATION. 
 
 The shades of evening had fallen over the thronged city, and the palace 
 and the garden of the Tuileries were blazing with illuminations, when the 
 Emperor and the Empress returned to their imperial abode. Josephine, 
 overwhelmed with the intensest emotions, which the scenes of the day had 
 excited, retired to her chamber, and, falling upon her knees, implored the
 
 448 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. ^CHAP. XXVIIt 
 
 guidance of the King of kings. Napoleon, who personally disliked all pomp 
 and parade, and who arranged these scenes of grandeur only to impress the 
 minds of the multitude, hastened to his room, and exclaimed impatiently to 
 an attendant as he entered, "Off! off with these confounded trappings!" 
 He threw the mantle into one corner of the room, the gorgeous robe into an- 
 other, and thus violently disencumbering himself, declared that hours of such 
 mortal tediousness he had never passed before. 
 
 The court of France had for ages exhibited to the nation the spectacle of 
 the most voluptuous and unblushing vice. Manners the most dissolute had 
 been rendered attractive by the grace in which they had been robed. Na- 
 poleon had resolved that his court should present a model of moral purity. 
 He resolved to give no one an appointment among the royal retinue whose 
 character was not above reproach. The Duchess d'Aiguillon, during the li- 
 cense of those times, in which all the restraints of Christian morality had 
 been swept away, had availed herself of the facile liberty of divorce from her 
 husband, and had formed other unions. Josephine, in her days of adversity, 
 had received favors from the duchess, and wished to testify her grat : tude by 
 receiving her at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Josephine thus 
 wrote to her friend : 
 
 " I am deeply afflicted. My former friends, supposing that I am able to 
 obtain the fulfillment of all my wishes, must suppose that I have forgotten 
 the past. Alas ! it is not so. The Emperor, indignant at the total disregard 
 of morality, and alarmed at the progress it might still make, is resolved that 
 the example of a life of regularity and of religion shall be presented at the pal- 
 ace where he reigns. Desirous of strengthening more and more the Church 
 re-established by himself, and unable to change the laws appointed by her 
 observances, his intention is, at least, to keep at a distance from his court 
 all who may have availed themselves of an opportunity for a divorce. Hence 
 the cause of his refusing the favor I asked of having you with me. The re- 
 fusal has occasioned me unspeakable regret, but he is too absolute to leave 
 even the hope of seeing him retract." 
 
 The season was now so inclement that the Pope could not immediately re- 
 pass the Alps. Napoleon, by his frankness, courtesy, and kindliness, gained 
 the most sincere affection of the Holy Pontiff. The Pope became one of the 
 most ardent admirers of that extraordinary man, who won the love of all that 
 approached him. 
 
 One great cause of the hostility of monarchical Europe against republican 
 France was the apprehension entertained by the allied monarchs that repub- 
 lican principles might extend through their dominions. One potent consid- 
 eration which influenced Napoleon in changing the government from a re- 
 public to an empire was the hope that Europe would be conciliated by this 
 change. But, though the form of government was thus changed, its popular 
 spirit remained the same. 
 
 The old French monarchy was a system of intolerable oppression of the 
 people and favoritism of the privileged classes. It sustained feudal rights, 
 an arrogant and exclusive nobility, venality of offices, worthless and enor- 
 mously endowed convents, proprietary clergy, and the entire surrender of 
 the state treasury to the extravagance of an irresponsible prince.
 
 1805.] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 449 
 
 The empire which Napoleon established was as different from this as light 
 from darkness. He guarded carefully the liberty of individuals and the rights 
 of private property. All persons were equally accessible to public employ- 
 ments. The taxes were impartially assessed. Entire freedom of conscience 
 was granted. All religious sects, including the Jews, were respected and 
 protected. The strictest accountability was instituted in respect to the pub- 
 lic funds. The decorations of the Legion of Honor were extended to all 
 classes and to all kinds of merit. The empire of Napoleon was not the old 
 feudal monarchy revived. It was an imperial republic. Nearly all the 
 thinking men in France thought that it was, in the then existing circum- 
 stances, the best government which France could then sustain. It was 
 adopted by the overwhelming majority of the nation. There are but few 
 thinking men now who w-ill dissent from that opinion. It is unreasonable to 
 assert that Napoleon could have made out of France a republican America. 
 The despots of Europe would not even permit him to make out of France a 
 republican empire. Had Napoleon neglected to surround his popular in 
 stitutions with imperial energy, France would immediately have been over- 
 whelmed by her assailants. Where can the intelligent man be found who 
 doubts this fact ? How ungenerous, then, is it to condemn Napoleon for pur- 
 suing that only course which, under the circumstances of the case, he could 
 pursue with any chance of success ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE THRONE OF ITALY. 
 
 Napoleon's Letter to the King of England Wishes of the Cisalpine Republic Journey of the 
 Emperor and Empress to Italy Coronation at Milan Dispatches Intercepted Napoleon and 
 the Peasant Picture of a Day Napoleon's Designs for France Anecdotes Conversation with 
 Las Casas. 
 
 NAPOLEON hoped that the adoption of monarchical forms might in some 
 degree reconcile Europe to France. Most of the surrounding monarchies 
 had expressed their gratification. England still remained implacable. Na- 
 poleon, however, hoped that even England might, by this measure of con- 
 ciliation, be appeased. His desire for peace was so intense, that, notwith- 
 standing the reiterated repulses he had received from that haughty power, 
 he condescended to make new advances to stay the effusion of blood. With 
 his own hand he again wrote to the King of England. It was one of his 
 first acts after his enthronement. His letter was thus expressed : 
 
 " Sir, my Brother, Called to the throne by Providence, by the suffrages 
 of the Senate, of the people, and of the army, my first desire is peace. France 
 and England, abusing their prosperity, may contend for ages. But do their 
 respective governments fulfill their most sacred duties in causing so much 
 blood to be vainly shed, without the hope of advantage or prospect of cessa- 
 tion ? I do not conceive that it can be deemed dishonorable in me to make 
 the first advances. I believe it has been sufficiently proved to the world 
 that I dread none of the chances of war, which indeed offer nothing that 
 I can fear. Though peace is the wish of my heart, yet war has never been
 
 450 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 adverse to my glory. I conjure your majesty, then, not to refuse the happi- 
 ness of giving peace to the world. Delay not that grateful satisfaction, that 
 it may be a legacy for your children ; for never have arisen more favorable 
 circumstances, nor a more propitious moment for calming every passion and 
 displaying the best feelings of humanity and reason. 
 
 .,-" That moment once lost, what term shall we set to a struggle which all 
 my efforts have been unable to terminate ? In the space of ten years your 
 majesty has gained more in wealth and territory than the extent of Europe 
 comprehends. Your people have attained the height of prosperity. What, 
 then, has your majesty to hope from war ? The world is sufficiently extens- 
 ive for our two nations, and reason might assist us to discover the means of 
 conciliating all, were both parties animated by a spirit of reconcilement. At 
 all events I have discharged a sacred duty, and one dear to my heart. Your 
 majesty may rely upon the sincerity of the sentiments now expressed, and 
 on my desire to afford your majesty every proof of that sincerity." 
 
 This earnest appeal the British cabinet repulsed by the following cold re- 
 ply : "His majesty of England, though earnestly desiring the restoration of 
 peace to his people, could not reply to the overture made to him without 
 consulting the Continental pow r ers, especially the Emperor of Russia." This 
 was simply saying that a new storm was gathering in the north, and that the 
 fate of France must depend on another struggle. 
 
 The Cisalpine Republic had witnessed the change of France from a re- 
 public to an empire with much satisfaction. They wished to imitate this 
 example. Italy, rejoicing in ancestral greatness, immediately resolved that 
 Napoleon, whom the Italians regarded as one of their own countrymen, 
 should also wear the crown of Lombardy. A deputation from the Cisalpine 
 Republic arrived in Paris to consult the Emperor upon the proposed altera- 
 tion, and to tender to him the crown. At a public audience, Napoleon was 
 informed of the unanimous desire of the Senate and of the people of Italy 
 that the country should become a kingdom, and that he would ascend the 
 throne. Napoleon listened with pleasure to the petition of the Republic. In 
 reply he said, 
 
 " The separation of the crowns of France and Italy will be necessary here- 
 after, but highly dangerous at present, surrounded as we are by powerful 
 enemies and inconstant friends. The people of Italy have always been dear 
 to me. For the love I bear them, I consent to take the additional burden 
 and responsibility which their confidence has led them to impose on me, at 
 least until the interests of Italy herself permit me to place the crown on a 
 younger head. My successor, animated by my spirit, and intent upon com- 
 pleting the work of regeneration, already so auspiciously commenced, shall 
 be one who will be ever ready to sacrifice his personal interests, and, if nec- 
 essary, his life, in behalf of the nation over which he shall be called by Prov- 
 idence, the constitution of the country, and my approbation, to reign." 
 
 In reference to this event, Napoleon, in a free and frank conversation with 
 his ancient schoolfellow Bourrienne, remarked, "In eight days I shall set 
 out to assume the iron crown of Charlemagne. That, however, is but a 
 stepping-stone to greater things which I design for Italy, which must become 
 a kingdom, comprising all the transalpine country from Venice to the mari-
 
 1805.] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 45 ! 
 
 time Alps. The union of Italy with France can be but transient. For the 
 present it is necessary, in order to accustom the Italians to live under com- 
 mon laws. The people of Genoa, Piedmont, Milan, Venice, Tuscany, Rome, 
 and Naples, cordially detest each other, and none of them could be induced 
 to admit their inferiority. Rome, however, by her situation and historical 
 associations, is the natural capital of Italy. To make it so in reality, the 
 power of the Pope must be restricted to spiritual affairs. It would be im- 
 politic to attempt the accomplishment of this just now ; but, if circum- 
 stances are favorable, there may be less difficulty hereafter. As yet, I have 
 but crude ideas upon the subject, which time and events will ripen. 
 
 "When you and I were two idle young men, sauntering through the streets 
 of Paris, a prescient feeling told me that I should one day be master of 
 France. My conduct hence received a direction. It is wise, therefore, to 
 provide for what may come, and this is what I am doing. Since it would 
 be impossible at once to unite Italy into a single power, yielding obedience 
 to uniform laws, I shall commence by making her French. All the petty, 
 worthless states into which she is divided will thus acquire a habit of living 
 under the dominion of the same laws, and, when this habit is formed, and lo- 
 cal feuds and enmities become extinct, there will again be an Italy worthy 
 her olden renown, and her restoration to independence will have been my 
 work. Twenty years are requisite, however, to accomplish this, and who 
 can calculate with certainty upon the future ? I speak at this moment of 
 things which have long been shut up in my mind. I am probably but utter- 
 ing a pleasant day-dream." 
 
 The Emperor and Empress, accompanied by the Pope, soon left Paris for 
 Italy. They halted at Brienne, the scene of Napoleon's school-days. With 
 many delightful and melancholy emotions, Napoleon recalled, with a zest 
 and a rapidity which surprised himself, innumerable long-forgotten trains of 
 ideas and sensations. They crossed the Alps. Josephine, supported by the 
 arm of Napoleon, and gazing upon the wild sublimities which surrounded 
 them, with emotions of delight listened to the glowing recitals of her hus- 
 band, as he pointed out to her the scenes of past enterprise and achievement. 
 
 Having taken leave of the Holy Father at Turin with mutual testimoni- 
 als of affection and esteem, the Emperor, with his staff, visited the plain of 
 Marengo. He had assembled upon that plain thirty thousand troops for a 
 grand review, and that Josephine might behold, in the mimicry of war, a pic- 
 ture of the dreadful scenes which had deluged those fields in blood. It was 
 the fifth of May. The magnificent pageant glittered beneath the rays of a 
 brilliant sun. A lofty throne was erected, from which the Emperor and Em- 
 press could overlook the whole scene. Napoleon dressed himself for the 
 occasion with the same war-wasted garments, the battered hat, the tempest- 
 torn cloak, the coat of faded blue, and the long cavalry sabre, which he had 
 worn amid the carnage and the terror of that awful day. Many of the vet- 
 erans who had been engaged in the action were present. The Emperor and 
 the Empress appeared on the ground in a magnificent chariot drawn by eight 
 horses, and immediately they were greeted by an enthusiastic shout of ac- 
 clamation from thirty thousand adoring voices. The gorgeous uniform of 
 the men, the rich caparison and proud bearing of the horses, the clangor of
 
 452 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 innumerable trumpets and martial bands, the glitter of gold and steel, the 
 deafening thunders of artillery and musketry, filling the air with one inces- 
 sant and terrific roar, the dense volumes of sulphurous smoke rolling heavily 
 over the plain, shutting out the rays of an unclouded sun, all combined to 
 produce an effect upon the spectators never to be effaced. 
 
 On the 26th of May the coronation took place in the Cathedral of Milan. 
 The iron crown of Charlemagne, which is a circlet of gold and gems cover- 
 ing an iron ring formed of one of the spikes said to have pierced our Savior's 
 hand at the Crucifixion, had reposed for a thousand years in the church of 
 Monza. It was brought forth from its mausoleum to embellish the corona- 
 tion with the attraction of its deep poetic sentiment. The ceremony was 
 conducted with a magnificence not even surpassed by the scene in Notre 
 Dame. The Empress first appeared, gorgeously dressed and glittering with 
 diamonds. The most enthusiastic acclamations greeted her entrance. A 
 moment after, Napoleon himself appeared. He was arrayed in imperial robes 
 of velvet, purple and gold, with the diadem upon his brow, and the crown 
 and sceptre of Charlemagne in his hands. He placed the crown upon his 
 own head, repeating aloud the historical words, " God has given it to rne 
 woe to him who touches it !" 
 
 He remained in Milan a month, busy night and day in projecting improve- 
 ments of the most majestic character. The Italians, to the present day, re- 
 gard the reign of Napoleon as the brightest period of their modern history. 
 
 A little incident at this time occurred which illustrates Napoleon's un- 
 wearied interest in promoting happiness. One day the Emperor and Em- 
 press had broken away from the pageantry and cares of state, and retired to 
 the seclusion of a little island in one of the lakes in that vicinity. They en- 
 tered the cabin of a poor woman. She had no idea of the illustrious char- 
 acter of her guests, and, in answer to their kind inquiries, told them frankly 
 the story of her penury and her toils, and her anxiety for her children, as her 
 husband could often obtain no work. Napoleon was interested in the indi- 
 cations which he saw of a superior character. 
 
 " How much money," said he, " should you want to make you perfectly 
 happy ?" 
 
 " Ah ! sir," she replied, " a great deal I should want." 
 
 " But how much ?" Napoleon rejoined. 
 
 " Oh, sir," she replied, " I should want as much as eighty dollars ; but 
 what prospect is there of one'having eighty dollars ?" 
 
 The Emperor caused an attendant to pour into her lap about six hundred 
 dollars in glittering gold. For a moment she was speechless in bewilder- 
 ment, and then said, 
 
 " Ah, sir ' ah, madam ! this is too much ; and yet you do not look as if 
 you could sport with the feelings of a poor woman." 
 
 " No," Josephine replied, in most gentle accents, " the money is all yours ; 
 with it you can now rent a piece of ground, purchase a flock of goats, and 
 I hope you will be able to bring up your children comfortably." Napoleon's 
 tact in detecting character ever enabled him to judge accurately where as- 
 sistance could be judiciously conferred. 
 
 Before leaving Milan, Napoleon received a number of intercepted dis-
 
 1805.] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 453 
 
 patches of Sir Arthur Wellesley, containing a detailed account of the enor- 
 mous acquisitions the English were making in India. He commented upon 
 these dispatches with great seventy. The cabinet of London were holding 
 up to the execration of Europe the illimitable ambition of the French mon- 
 arch for striving to strengthen himself against the hostile monarchies around 
 him by friendly associations and alliances with such powers as his genius 
 could create. At the same time, this same cabinet was issuing orders to 
 extend the British dominion over an extent of country and a population al- 
 most equal to that of all Europe. In this career of aggression against the 
 East Indies, England could not even offer the plea that she was an invited 
 liberator, or that she was conquering in a defensive war. It is, indeed, more 
 easy to see the mote in our neighbor's eye than to discern the beam in our 
 own. 
 
 From Milan, the Emperor and Empress continued their tour to Genoa. 
 The restless and never-exhausted mind of Napoleon was weary at even the 
 swiftest speed of the horses. Though they drove from post to post with the 
 utmost possible rapidity, so that it was necessary continually to throw water 
 on the glowing axle, he kept calling from his carriage, " On ! on ! We do 
 not go fast enough !" Their reception in Genoa was magnificent in the ex- 
 treme. In the beautiful bay, a floating garden of orange-trees was con- 
 structed in honor of Josephine. In the principal church the Emperor and 
 Empress received the allegiance of the most prominent inhabitants. 
 
 As they were crossing the Alps, Napoleon, alighting from his carriage, pro- 
 ceeded on foot some distance in advance of the party. He met a peasant 
 v; ;man. 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 "Where are you hastening so eagerly this morning?" said he.
 
 454 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXIX 
 
 " To see the Emperor," she replied. " They tell me the Emperor is to 
 pass this way." 
 
 "And why do you wish to see him?" said Napoleon; "what have you 
 done but exchanged one tyrant for another ? You have had the Bourbons, 
 now you have Napoleon." 
 
 The woman for a moment was staggered, and then replied, 
 
 " It is no matter ; Napoleon is our king, but the Bourbons were the kings 
 of the nobles}'' 
 
 "This," said Napoleon to one to whom he related the anecdote, "com- 
 prehends the whole matter." 
 
 Napoleon, having appointed Eugene Beauharnais viceroy of Italy, returned 
 to Paris, and here wearing with perfect ease the weight of two crowns, he 
 resumed his life of unintermitted toil. His habits of life were regular and 
 temperate in the extreme. After issuing each morning the orders of the 
 day, and having received those who were entitled to the privilege of an 
 audience, he breakfasted at nine o'clock. The breakfast seldom lasted more 
 than eight or ten minutes. Returning to his cabinet, he applied himself to 
 business, and received the ministers, who attended with their port-folios. 
 These occupations lasted until six in the evening. Then dinner was served. 
 The Emperor and Empress usually dined alone. The dinner consisted of 
 but one course, prolonged by the dessert. The only wine he drank was a 
 very light French wine, mingled with water. Ardent spirits he never drank. 
 The dinner usually lasted not more than twenty minutes. Returning to the 
 drawing-room, a servant presented him with a cup of coffee. He then re- 
 turned to his cabinet to resume his labors, rigorously acting upon the princi. 
 pie never to put off till to-morrow what could be done to-day. The Em. 
 
 NAPOLEON IN THE SALOON OF JOSEPHINE. 
 
 press descended to her apartments, where she found the ladies of honor in 
 
 attendance.
 
 1805.] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 455 
 
 Napoleon occasionally, for a few moments, would leave his cabinet after 
 dinner, and enter the apartments of Josephine, to speak a few words with 
 the ladies who were assembled there. Leaning upon the back of a chair, he 
 would converse with that frankness with which he ever charmed all whom 
 he addressed. In the evening he held a levee, when the officers on duty re- 
 ceived their orders for the next day. Such was the life of the people's king. 
 How different from that of the voluptuous monarchs who had previously 
 reveled in the palaces of France. Napoleon's personal tastes were extremely 
 simple and modest, but he loved to see around his court a brilliant display 
 of magnificence, deeming it essential to impress the imaginations of the 
 French people. In private, few persons have manifested more polite and 
 genial manners in their intercourse with those around them, though there 
 were occasions when Napoleon, intensely occupied with the affairs of state, 
 would arise from the breakfast table and the dinner table without the utter- 
 ance of a single word. 
 
 Immediately after the coronation of the Emperor, Louis XVIII. entered 
 his earnest protest against Napoleon's right to the throne. Napoleon caused 
 this protest to be published, without note or comment, in the Moniteur, that 
 it might be read by all France. This was his only and his noble response. 
 When Napoleon first perused this production, he calmly said, " My right is 
 the will of France. While I have a sword I shall maintain it." The ques- 
 tion whether the hereditary succession to the throne should be invested in 
 the family of Napoleon had been submitted to the people. More than three 
 and a half millions voted in favor, while but about two thousand voted against 
 it. Such unanimity in behalf of any ruler earth has never before recorded. 
 
 The English cabinet, trembling in view of the black cloud of invasion 
 threatening their shores, and which cloud every day grew blacker and 
 blacker with its surcharged thunders, roused its energies to form new coali- 
 tions against France. The representations she made on the subject of Na- 
 poleon's encroachments were favorably listened to by Austria, Russia, and 
 Sweden. A hostile coalition was formed, the expenses of which were to be 
 borne chiefly by the British people, for a combined movement to overthrow 
 the throne of the plebeian monarch. An attack upon France by the Northern 
 powers might interrupt the project and divert the attention of the terrible 
 army threatening the invasion of England. Napoleon was well informed of 
 the intrigues in progress against him. He secretly watched the tendency 
 of events, while he took no public notice which could indicate his knowledge 
 of the designs which were forming. Under these circumstances, and various 
 disappointments having occurred in his attempts to assemble a fleet in the 
 Channel, Napoleon hesitated in what direction to encounter his foes 
 whether upon the shores of England, or to march to meet them as they 
 should press through the defiles of Germany. After numerous perplexities, 
 he said, " My resolution is fixed. My fleets were lost sight of from the 
 heights of Cape Ortegal on the 14th of August. If they come into the 
 Channel, there is time yet. I embark, and I make the descent. I go to 
 London, and there cut the knot of all coalitions. If, on the contrary, my ad- 
 miral fails in conduct or in firmness, I raise my ocean camp, I enter Ger- 
 many with two hundred thousand men, and I do not stop till I have scored
 
 456 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 the game at Vienna, taken Venice and all the chiefer cities of Italy from 
 Austria, and driven the Bourbons from Italy. I will not allow the Austrians 
 and the Russians to assemble. I will strike them down before they can 
 form their junction. The Continent being pacified, I will return to the ocean, 
 and work anew for maritime peace." 
 
 All things were now prepared for the invasion. Napoleon was only wait- 
 ing the arrival of the fleet. Officers were stationed with their glasses at va- 
 rious points of the coast, to observe all that was visible upon the sea, and to 
 report to him. 
 
 Thus passed three days of intolerable suspense, but no fleet appeared. 
 Admiral Villeneuve, in grossest defection from duty, had frustrated the whole 
 plan. It was one of the deepest disappointments of Napoleon's life. Na- 
 poleon was extremely irritated. His whole soul was aroused into intensity 
 of disappointment and vexation. He launched out into long and fierce in- 
 vectives against the incapacity of his naval officers ; said that he was betray- 
 ed by cowardice ; deplored in strains of anguish the ruin of the most splendid 
 and perfectly arranged plans he had ever conceived. 
 
 Suddenly the storm passed away. With that self-control which so won- 
 derfully characterized him, he in an hour mastered his agitation, and calmed 
 himself into perfect repose. With surprising facility, he immediately turned 
 all the energies of his mind from the invasion of England to preparation to 
 meet the combined foes who were gathering to assail him in the north. For 
 several hours in succession, with extraordinary precision and minuteness of 
 detail, he dictated the immortal campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz. Thus ter- 
 minated the enterprise of invading England. But this project was no chi- 
 mera ; though unfinished, it was one of the most majestic enterprises of his 
 life. 
 
 If ever a nation was authorized to engage in a war of self-defense, Napo- 
 leon w r as right in this endeavor to resist those unrelenting foes whom no 
 pleas for peace could disarm. In reference to the change of the government 
 of France, Napoleon, at St. Helena, made the following profound remarks : 
 " My object was to destroy the whole of the feudal system as organized by 
 Charlemagne. With this view, I created a nobility from among the people, 
 in order to swallow up the remains of the feudal nobility. The foundations 
 of my ideas of fitness were abilities and personal worth, and I selected the 
 son of a farmer or an artisan to make a duke or a marshal of France. I 
 sought for true merit among all ranks of the great mass of the French peo- 
 ple, and was anxious to organize a true and general system of equality. I 
 was desirous that every Frenchman should be admissible to all the employ- 
 ments and dignities of the state, provided he was possessed of talents and 
 character equal to the performance of the duties, whatever might be his fam- 
 ily. In a word, I was eager to abolish, to the last trace, the privileges of 
 the ancient nobility, and to establish a government, w-hich, at the same time 
 that it held the reins of government with a firm hand, should still be a popu- 
 lar government. The oligarchs of every country in Europe soon perceived 
 my design, and it was for this reason that war to the death was carried on 
 against roe by England. The noble families of London, as well as those of 
 \ ienna, *^ink themselves prescriptively entitled to the occupation of all the
 
 1805 ] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 457 
 
 important offices in the state, and the management and handling of the pub- 
 lic money. Their birth is regarded by them as a substitute for talents and 
 capacities ; and it is enough for a man to be the son of his father, to be fit 
 to fulfill the duties of the most important employments and highest dignities 
 of the state. They are somewhat like kings by divine right. The people 
 are, in their eyes, merely milch cows, about whose interests they feel no 
 concern, provided the treasury is always full, and the crown resplendent 
 with jewels. In short, in establishing an hereditary nobility I had three ob- 
 jects in view : 
 
 " 1st. To reconcile France w r ith the rest of Europe. 2dly. To reconcile old 
 with new France. 3dly. To put an end to all feudal institutions in Europe, 
 by reconnecting the idea of nobility with that of public services, and detach- 
 ing it from all prescriptive or feudal notions. The whole of Europe was 
 governed by nobles who were strongly opposed to the progress of the French 
 Revolution, and who exercised an influence which proved a serious obstacle 
 to the development of French principles. It was necessary to destroy this 
 influence, and with that view to clothe the principal personages of the empire 
 with titles equal to theirs."* 
 
 The life of Napoleon is extremely rich in well authenticated anecdotes il- 
 lustrative of the peculiarities of his character ; and it is difficult to find any 
 anecdote respecting him, bearing the impress of genuineness, which does not 
 indicate a spirit humane, generous, and lofty. All the battered and muti- 
 lated veterans in the Hotel des Invalides, in Paris, tell with enthusiasm their 
 treasured anecdotes of the Emperor. Every person who has had any inter- 
 course with this extraordinary man, either as a companion in arms, in the 
 cabinet, or as a servant, glow's with excitement when speaking of the exalt- 
 ed intellect and the kindly heart of their adored master. 
 
 Baron Langon says, " The present generation, who see thrones filled by 
 men of the ordinary stamp, are unable to comprehend the state of feeling 
 with which the Emperor inspired us. Providence has not granted to them 
 the favor, which must ever be our pride and glory, to have been face to face 
 with Napoleon, to have heard his voice vibrate through our ears and hearts, 
 and to have gazed upon his placid and majestic countenance. To us, Napo- 
 leon was not a mere emperor, he was a being of a higher order one of those 
 sublime creations that perhaps help to exalt our ideas of the Creator. Na- 
 poleon was our father, our master, in some degree our idol. We young men 
 cherished for him the affection and duty of sons. There existed between 
 him and ourselves a positive sympathy, which made us regard as a sacred and 
 family duty that which the present generation of young Frenchmen would 
 pronounce to be servility and base vassalage." 
 
 On one occasion a soldier of his consular guard committed suicide from a 
 disappointment in love. Napoleon issued the following order of the day : 
 " The grenadier Gobain has committed suicide from love. He was in other 
 
 * " A new hereditary nobility was now created, in order, as the Emperor expressed himself, to 
 give ' the imperial throne the requisite dignity, and to excite a praiseworthy emulation in the 
 hearts of the French.' The titles of the new nobility were those of the feudal times, yet no privi- 
 leges were attached to these titles. This blow was considered by the old nobility more severe 
 than any previous one, and perhaps was so." Encyclopedia Amrricana, Article Napoleon.
 
 458 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 respects an excellent soldier. This is the second incident of the same na- 
 ture which has occurred within a month. The First Consul directs it to be 
 inserted in the order-book of the guard, that a soldier ought to know how to 
 vanquish the pangs and melancholy of the passions ; that there is as much 
 true courage in bearing up against mental sufferings with constancy as in re- 
 maining firm on the wall of a battery. To yield ourselves to grief without 
 resistance, or to kill ourselves to escape affliction, is to abandon the field of 
 battle before the victory is gained." 
 
 One day, Napoleon was traversing the camp, attended by two officers, 
 when he met a very pretty sutler woman, weeping bitterly, and leading by 
 the hand a little boy about five years old. The Emperor, who happened to 
 be unknown to the woman, reined up his horse, and inquired into the cause 
 of her grief. The woman, much disconcerted, made no reply, but the child 
 frankly answered : 
 
 " My mother is crying, sir, because my father has beat her." 
 
 " And where is your father ?" 
 
 " He is close by. He is a sentinel on duty with the baggage." 
 
 Napoleon again addressed himself to the woman, and inquired the name 
 of her husband. She refused to tell, being fearful that the Captain, as she 
 supposed the Emperor to be, would cause him to be punished. 
 
 " Your husband has been beating you," Napoleon said ; " you are weeping, 
 and yet you are so afraid of getting him into trouble that you will not even 
 tell me his name. This is very inconsistent. May it not be that you are a 
 little in fault yourself ?" 
 
 "Alas ! Captain," the forgiving wife replied, "he has a thousand good 
 qualities, though he has one very bad one. He is jealous, terribly jealous ; 
 and when he gets into a passion he can not restrain his violence. And I love 
 him, for he is my lawful husband, and the father of my dear boy !" So say- 
 ing, she fondly kissed her child, who, by the way in w r hich he returned her 
 caresses, proved his affection for his mother. 
 
 Napoleon was deeply touched by this little domestic drama. Burdened as 
 he was with the cares of empire, he could turn aside from them to dry up 
 the fountain of sorrow in the heart of this humble follower of the camp. Ad- 
 dressing the woman again, he said : "Whether you and your husband love 
 each other or not, I do not choose that he should beat you. Tell me your 
 husband's name, and I will mention the affair to the Emperor." 
 
 " If you were the Emperor himself," she replied, " I would not tell it you, 
 for I know that he would be punished." 
 
 " Silly woman !" Napoleon rejoined ; " all that I want is to teach him to 
 behave well to you, and to treat you with the respect you deserve." Then 
 shrugging his shoulders, he made some further remark upon female obstina- 
 cy, and galloped away. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said he to his companions, " what do you think of 
 that affectionate creature ? There are not many such women at the Tuiler- 
 ies. A wife like that is a treasure to her husband." Immediately he dis- 
 patched an aid to desire the commander of the escort to come to him. He 
 inquired very particularly respecting the woman, her husband, and the 
 child.
 
 1805.] THE THRONE OF ITALY. 459 
 
 " He is," said the officer, "one of the best behaved men in the company. 
 He is very jealous of his wife, but without reason. The woman's conduct is 
 irreproachable." 
 
 " Try and ascertain," said Napoleon, " if he has ever seen me ; if he has 
 not, bring him hither." 
 
 It appeared that Napoleon had never been seen by the grenadier, who 
 was a fine-looking young man of about five-and-twenty, who had recently 
 joined the army. When he was conducted to Napoleon, the latter said, in 
 a familiar tone, 
 
 " What is the reason, my lad, that you beat your wife ? She is a young 
 and pretty woman, and is a better wife than you are a husband. Such con- 
 duct is disgraceful in a French grenadier." 
 
 " If women are to be believed," the man replied, "they are never in the 
 , wrong. I have forbidden my wife to talk to any man whatever; and yet, 
 in spite of my commands, I find her constantly gossiping with one or another 
 of my comrades." 
 
 " Now, there is your mistake. You want to prevent a woman from talk- 
 ing ; you might as well try to turn the course of the Danube. Take my ad- 
 vice : do not be jealous. Let your wife gossip and be merry. If she were 
 doing wrong, it is likely she would be sad instead of gay. I desire that you 
 do not strike your wife again. If my order be not obeyed, the Emperor 
 shall hear of it. Suppose his majesty were to give you a reprimand, what 
 would you say then ?" 
 
 The man, not a little irritated at this interference with his marital privi- 
 leges, replied, "My wife is mine, general, and I may beat her if I choose; 
 I should say to the Emperor, 'Look you to the enemy, and leave me, to 
 manage my wife.' ' 
 
 Napoleon laughed and said, " My good fellow, you are now speaking to 
 the Emperor." 
 
 The word fell upon the soldier's heart like magic. Much confused, he 
 hung his head, lowered his voice, and said, " Oh, sire ! that quite alters the 
 case. Since, your majesty commands, I of course obey." 
 
 " That is right," Napoleon replied. " I hear an excellent character of 
 your wife; every body speaks well of her ; she braved my displeasure rather 
 than expose you to punishment ; reward her by kind treatment. I promote 
 you to the rank of sergeant. Apply to the grand marshal, and he will give 
 you one hundred dollars ; with that you can furnish your sutler's stores, 
 which will enable your wife to carry on a profitable business. Your son is 
 a fine boy, and at some future time he shall be provided for. But, mind ! 
 never let me hear of your beating your wife again. If I do, you shall find 
 that I can deal hard blows as well as you." 
 
 Several years after this, the Emperor w r as with the army in another cam- 
 paign. Napoleon, who had a wonderful power of recollecting the counte- 
 nances of persons whom he had once seen, met the " daughter of the regi- 
 ment" and her son, and immediately rode up to her, saying, " Well, my good 
 woman ! how do you do ? Has your husband kept the promise he made 
 
 me 
 
 The affectionate wife burst into tears, and throwing herself at the Emper-
 
 460 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [C H AP. XXIX. 
 
 or's feet, exclaimed, " Oh, sire ! sire ! since my good star led me into the 
 presence of your majesty, I have been the happiest of women." 
 
 " Then reward me," said Napoleon, " by being the most virtuous of wives." 
 With these words he tossed a few pieces of gold into her hands and rode 
 away, while the whole battalion raised an enthusiastic shout of "Vive I'Em- 
 pereur !" 
 
 Napoleon, at St. Helena, was conversing with Las Casas upon the subject 
 of the invasion of England, when the following conversation ensued 
 
 " Were the English much afraid of my invasion ?" inquired the Emperor. 
 " 1 can not inform you," said Las Casas ; " but in the saloons of Paris we 
 laughed at the idea." "Well," replied Napoleon, " you might have laughed 
 in Paris, but Pitt did not laugh in London. He soon calculated the extent 
 of his danger, and therefore threw a coalition upon my back when I had 
 raised my arm to strike. Never was the English oligarchy exposed to 
 greater danger. I had taken measures to preclude the possibility of failure 
 in my landing. I had the best army in the world ; I need only say it was 
 the army of Austerlitz. In four days I should have been in London. I 
 should have entered the English capital, not as a conqueror, but as a libera- 
 tor. I should have been another William III. ; but I would have acted with 
 greater generosity and disinterestedness. The discipline of my army was. 
 perfect. My troops would have behaved in London the same as they would 
 in Paris. No sacrifices not even contributions would have been exacted 
 from the English. 
 
 " We should have presented ourselves to them, not as conquerors, but as 
 brothers who came to restore to them their rights and their liberties. I 
 would have assembled the citizens, and directed them to labor themselves in 
 the task of their regeneration, because the English had already preceded us 
 in political legislation. I would have declared that our only wish was to be 
 able to rejoice in the happiness and prosperity of the English people, and to 
 these professions I would have strictly adhered. In the course of a few- 
 months, the two nations which had been such determined enemies would 
 have henceforward composed only one people, identified in principles, max- 
 ims, and interests. I should have departed from England in order to effect, 
 from south to north, under Republican colors (for I was then First Consul), 
 the regeneration of Europe, which at a later period I was on the point of 
 effecting, from north to south, under monarchical forms. 
 
 " Both systems were equally good, since both would have been attended 
 by the same results, and would have been carried into execution with firm- 
 ness, moderation, and good faith. How many ills that are now endured, 
 and how many that are yet to be endured, would not unhappy Europe have 
 escaped ! Never was a project so favorable to the interests of civilization 
 conceived with more disinterested intentions, or so near being carried into 
 execution. It is a remarkable fact, that the obstacles which occasioned my 
 failure were not the work of men, but proceeded from the elements. In the 
 south, the sea frustrated my plans ; the burning of Moscow, the snow, and 
 the winter completed my ruin in the north. Thus water, air, and fire all 
 nature, and nature alone, was hostile to the universal regeneration which na- 
 ture herself called for. The problems of Providence are insoluble !"
 
 1805.] CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 461 
 
 After a few moments of thoughtful silence, he again said : " It was sup- 
 posed that my scheme was merely a vain threat, because it did not appear 
 that I possessed any reasonable means of attempting its execution. But I 
 had laid my plans deeply, and without being observed. I had dispersed all 
 our French ships, and the English were sailing after them to different parts 
 of the world. Our ships were to return suddenly, and at the same time, arid 
 to assemble in a mass along the French coasts. I would have had seventy 
 or eighty French or Spanish vessels in the Channel, and I calculated that I 
 should continue master of it for two months. Three or four thousand little 
 boats were to be ready at a signal. 
 
 " A hundred thousand men were every day drilled in embarking and land- 
 ing as a part of their exercise. They were full of ardor, and eager for the 
 enterprise, which was very popular with the French, and was supported by 
 the wishes of a great number of the English. After landing my troops, I 
 could calculate upon only one pitched battle, the result of which would not 
 be doubtful ; and victory would have brought us to London. The nature of 
 the country would not admit of a war of maneuvering. My conduct would 
 have done the rest. The people of England groaned under the yoke of an 
 oligarchy. On feeling that their pride had not been humbled, they would 
 have ranged themselves on our side. We should have been considered only 
 as allies come to effect their deliverance. We should have presented our- 
 selves with the magical words of liberty and equality." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 
 
 Causes for the Misrepresentations of Napoleon's Character Independence of the American Historian 
 Admission of Napier Treachery of Austria Breaking up from Boulogne Address to the 
 Senate Comparison of Forces Proclamation Anecdote Reply to the Austrian Officer 
 Madame Marboeuf Interview of the Emperor and the Austrian Prince Conference with Gen- 
 eral Mack Address to the Austrian Officers Proclamation Testimony of Bourrienne The 
 young Engineer Justice of Napoleon. 
 
 AMERICANS have derived their views of Napoleon from the Tory historians 
 of England. The strongest of earthly motives have urged, and still urge, 
 these historians to misrepresent his character. Thus only can they rescue 
 the government of England from the condemnation of mankind. For years 
 Europe was deluged with blood These wars were caused by the incessant 
 attacks and vast alliances with which the Tory government of England en- 
 deavored to crush the Republican Emperor. What inspired England to a 
 strife so protracted, so terrific ? Was it ambition ? Was it philanthropy ? 
 She awaits her verdict before the tribunal of the world. Her historians plead 
 her cause. They are not impartial judges. They are ardent "advocates. 
 
 In France, the reputation of Napoleon has been exposed to influences al- 
 most equally adverse. Upon the downfall of the Republican Emperor, the 
 Bourbons reascended the throne. Their claims to the sovereignty of France 
 could be defended only by representing the exile of St. Helena as a usurper 
 and a tyrant. Again the people drove the Bourbons from the throne. The 
 VOL. II. L
 
 462 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP . 
 
 Orleans branch of the family received the sceptre. The motive to withhold 
 justice from Napoleon continued with unabated strength. Louis Philippe, 
 during all his reign, trembled at the name of Bonaparte. The historian who 
 should have dared to vindicate the character of the great idol of the populace 
 would have been withered by the frowns which would have darkened upon 
 him from the saloons of Versailles, St. Cloud, and the Tuileries. All the 
 despots of Europe have been equally interested to misrepresent the career of 
 Napoleon. He was the great advocate oi the rights of the people against the 
 arrogant assumption of haughty nobles and feudal kings. By their combined 
 power they crushed their foe. Now they traduce him. 
 
 So potent have these influences of misrepresentation been, that one can 
 hardly find in the United States a man who has passed sixty years of age 
 who does not think that Napoleon was a monster of wickedness. The pub- 
 lic mind has been so effectually perverted by the misrepresentations of years, 
 that any impartial statement of the real character of the Emperor is by many 
 regarded as blind eulogy. 
 
 An American alone is favorably situated to write an impartial account of 
 that terrific conflict which filled Europe with smouldering cities, and which 
 crimsoned her fields with gore. An American is exposed to no influences to 
 induce him to swerve from historical verity. He has nothing to hope and 
 nothing to fear from either England or France. Self-love will induce him 
 to prize his own reputation as an impartial historian far above any unworthy 
 desire to eulogize one now mouldering in the grave. With three thousand 
 miles of ocean rolling between him and the scene of strife, he can contem- 
 plate the conflict with a calm and unprejudiced mind. 
 
 The kings of Europe still look with awe upon the dome of the Invalides, 
 beneath which repose the ashes of the mighty Emperor. France, in every 
 street of her tumultuous metropolis, and in the most secluded hamlets of her 
 distant departments, is still agitated by the name of Bonaparte. A fair rep- 
 resentation of the endeavors of Napoleon to withdraw from the aristocracy 
 their exclusive privileges, and to elevate the masses of the community to 
 self-respect and to equal rights, would shake the government of England to 
 its foundation. The view of his character presented in these pages, if placed 
 before the people of Great Britain, would be regarded by the government as 
 a calamity. In America alone can an impartial history of Napoleon be writ- 
 ten, and the citizens of America alone are in a state of mind impartially to 
 scrutinize his astonishing career. Still, no one can be blind to the fact that, 
 notwithstanding all the misrepresentations of hostile historians, the reputation 
 of Napoleon has been for years rising higher and higher. Spot after spot has 
 disappeared from the escutcheon of his fame. There is an impression the 
 world over that Napoleon was the friend of the masses of the people. " I 
 have no fear," said Napoleon at St. Helena, " respecting my reputation. 
 The world will yet do me justice." 
 
 The campaigns of Ulm and Austerlitz will be remembered while time en- 
 dures. The facts are simple. Napoleon was engaged in a war of self-de- 
 fense with England. He had implored peace. Earnestly he desired it 
 Peace alone, by promoting commerce, agriculture, and manufactures, could 
 make France rich and powerful. War was destruction to his infant navy.
 
 1805.] CAMPAIGN C ULM. 463 
 
 robbed him of his colonies, and called the peasants from fields of rural labor 
 to the field of blood. But England did not wish France to be rich and pow- 
 erful. With her invincible fleet Britain could sweep every sea, enrich her- 
 self with the spoils of the Republic, and command the commerce of all 
 climes. Earnestly desiring war, she violated the most solemn treaty, and 
 commenced, even without warning, an attack upon the unprotected cities 
 and the unguarded commerce of the French. Napoleon, disappointed, yet 
 not intimidated, rose sublimely to meet the struggle. England was amazed 
 and terrified by his gigantic efforts. 
 
 To avert the impending storm she strove to call the despots of Europe to 
 her aid. She succeeded. Russia, Austria, Sweden, dreading the free prin- 
 ciples which had gained utterance in France, gladly accepted the bribes 
 which England offered to marshal their armies for war. The Allies secretly 
 organized a force of five hundred thousand men to fall simultaneously upon 
 France, at various and widely distant points. England agreed to pay six 
 millions of dollars annually for every one hundred thousand men the Allies 
 would furnish. The fleet of England, numbering not less than five hundred 
 ships of war, blockaded the harbors of France and of her allies, and desola- 
 ted with storms of shot and shell every unprotected city. 
 
 England, in India, in Egypt, along the shores of the Mediterranean, and 
 in all seas from pole to pole, was extending her limitless empire. Russia, 
 the greatest despot of our globe, was grasping with her right arm the half of 
 Europe, and with her left the half of Asia, and was yearly extending her 
 sway over conquered provinces. Austria had overrun a large portion of 
 Italy, and, in banditti alliance with Prussia and Russia, had dismembered 
 Poland and divided the spoil. And yet these monarchs had the effrontery to 
 say, " Behold the intolerable ambition of Napoleon. He has annexed to 
 France Genoa, Piedmont, the island of Elba, and has accepted the crown 
 of Lombardy." Napier, the eloquent English historian of the Peninsular 
 war, candidly makes the following admission : 
 
 " Up to the peace of Tilsit, the wars of France were essentially defensive. 
 The bloody strife which wasted the Continent so many years was not a 
 struggle for pre-eminence between ambitious powers, not a dispute for some 
 accession of territory, not for the political ascendency of one or other nation, 
 but a deadly conflict to determine whether aristocracy or democracy should 
 predominate, whether equality or PRIVILEGE should henceforth be the principle 
 of European governments" 
 
 And how can candor censure Napoleon for this strife. Could he escape the 
 imputation of folly, if, surrounded by hostile despotisms, all increasing their 
 power, and all ready to band together for his destruction, he had made no 
 attempt to strengthen France by friendly alliances ? And when thus treach- 
 erously assailed in every quarter, without even a declaration of war, was it 
 his duty quietly to repose in the palace of the Tuileries, and see the billows 
 of invasion roll over his country ? Was he bound tamely to submit to be 
 hurled from the throne upon which the unanimous voice of France had 
 placed him ? Was it his duty to surrender his countrymen to the hated des- 
 potism of a detested dynasty ? To these questions impartial history can re- 
 turn but one answer.
 
 464 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXX. 
 
 The Allies hoped to take Napoleon by surprise. No declaration of war 
 was issued. The Austrian minister remained quietly in Paris. Every pre- 
 caution was adopted to lull their victim into false security. The destruction 
 of Napoleon now seemed certain. How could he contend, single-handed, 
 against such myriad foes ? Stealthily the armies of Austria, 80,000 strong, 
 under General Mack, commenced their march toward the frontiers of France. 
 The Emperor Alexander, with 116,000 Russians, was hastening, by forced 
 marches, through the plains of Poland to unite with the Austrians. They 
 thought that Napoleon, all engrossed upon the shores of the Channel, a 
 thousand miles distant, was blind to their movements. He was watching 
 them with an eagle eye. With the infatuation of self-confidence, the Aus- 
 trian hosts rapidly advanced. They overran Bavaria, the ally of France, 
 and endeavored to compel the King of Bavaria to join in the assault. They 
 took possession of Munich and Ulm, entered the defiles of the Black Forest, 
 and fortified themselves strongly in all the outposts which opened into the 
 valley of the Rhine. The Russian army, with proud tread, was hastening to 
 join them. The Austrians were full of satisfaction that at last they had 
 stolen a march upon so vigilant a foe. 
 
 But Napoleon was not the man to be thus entrapped. Like a whirlwind 
 from the serene sky he burst upon his astounded foes. Indescribable was 
 the consternation and bewilderment of the Austrians when informed that Na- 
 poleon, as if by magic, had crossed the Rhine and the Danube ; that, with 
 his whole host, he was in their rear, cutting off all their supplies, all commu- 
 nication with Austria, all hope of relief from the Russians, and all possibili- 
 ty of escape. Had an army suddenly descended from the clouds, the Aus- 
 trians could hardly have been more utterly confounded. From every direc- 
 tion Napoleon's triumphant columns were marching upon their unprotected 
 rear. In their distraction they fled this way and that. But there was no 
 escape there was no hope. Every where they were entangled in the mesh- 
 es of that net which Napoleon had so skillfully and so rapidly spread around 
 his foes. In despair they threw down their arms. Baggage-wagons, guns, 
 muskets, horses, and standards in vast profusion fell into the hands of the 
 victors. Resistance was in vain. Napoleon had so maneuvered that each 
 Austrian band found itself surrounded by superior numbers. The least re- 
 sistance insured destruction. The marvelous conquest which Napoleon thus 
 achieved was almost as bloodless as it was entire. 
 
 As soon as Napoleon, at Boulogne, heard of the decided hostile movement 
 of his foes, he put the seal of silence upon the press, and upon the telegraph, 
 and upon all the avenues of information. Twenty thousand carriages were 
 in readiness to transport his host, which, from its thorough discipline, he 
 called the Grand Army, to the banks of the Rhine. He assembled the sol- 
 diers before him, informed them of the perfidious and unprovoked assault of 
 the Allies, and of the necessity of an immediate march to Germany. Exul- 
 tant cheers announced the alacrity with which the mighty host obeyed its 
 chieftain. In an hour all were in motion. The genius of Napoleon was 
 perhaps never more conspicuous than in the directions now given to the sev- 
 eral corps of the army. The vast plan, extending over a region of hundreds 
 of leagues, embraced the utmost grandeur of general combination. At the
 
 /805.] 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 
 
 465 
 
 BREAKING CP FROM BOULOGNE. 
 
 same time, his directions were given to each of the generals with the most 
 extraordinary minuteness and accuracy of detail. The daily marches of 
 every regiment, the places of rest, all were marked out with undeviating ac- 
 curacy. Almost with the speed of thought, nearly two hundred thousand 
 men swept over France, crossed the Rhine and the Danube, and effectually 
 blocked up the retreat of the foe, even before that foe was aware that the 
 French had left the heights of Boulogne. As soon as Napoleon had seen his 
 whole army on the move, he hastened to Paris, and, assembling the Senate, 
 he thus addressed them : 
 
 " Senators ! It is necessary, in the present state of Europe, that I should 
 explain to you my sentiments. I am about to quit my capital-, to place my- 
 self at the head of the army, to bear prompt assistance to my allies, and to 
 defend the dearest interests of my people. The wishes of the eternal ene- 
 mies of the Continent are accomplished. Hostilities have commenced in 
 the midst of Germany. Austria and Russia have united with England, and 
 our generation is involved anew in the calamities of war. A few days ago I 
 still cherished the hope that peace would not be disturbed. But the Aus- 
 trian army has passed the Inn. Munich is invaded. The Elector of Bava- 
 ria has been driven from his capital. All my hopes of peace have vanished." 
 
 To meet the enormous expenses of such a war required great financial 
 skill. But the genius of Napoleon was equal to the task. He was so strong- 
 ly enthroned in the hearts of his countrymen that he could have borrowed 
 millions, and thus have imposed upon France the burden of taxation which 
 Pitt has bequeathed to England. But he was exceedingly unwilling to throw 
 any of the expenses of the war upon the future. "While I live," he wrote 
 to M. Marbois, "I will not issue any paper." 
 
 Josephine accompanied Napoleon to Strasburg. His columns had strictly
 
 466 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXX. 
 
 followed his orders, and had pursued the routes which he had assigned to 
 them. He wrote to Talleyrand : 
 
 " The Austrians are in, the defiles of the Black Forest. God grant that 
 they may remain there. My only fear is that we shall frighten them too 
 much. If they allow me to gain a few more marches, I shall have com- 
 pletely turned them. Forbid the newspapers to make any more mention of 
 the army than if it did not exist." 
 
 It was, indeed, a proud array which Napoleon had now at his command. 
 One hundred and eighty-six thousand combatants, burning with enthusiasm 
 and adoring their chief, awaited his orders. Thirty-eight thousand horse- 
 men were ready to move with the celerity of the wind wherever he pointed. 
 Three hundred and forty pieces of cannon, whose gunners were trained to 
 unerring precision, were dragged in the train of this formidable host. Still 
 he was contending at fearful odds. The coalition numbered 500,000 men. 
 Of these, 250,000 were Austrians, 200,000 Russians, 50,000 English, Swedes, 
 and Neapolitans. It was also known that 200,000 Prussians were ready to 
 join the coalition upon the first reverse attending the French arms. 
 
 As soon as Napoleon arrived at the head of his columns, he was received 
 with shouts, a thousand times repeated, of " Vive 1'Empereur !" He ad- 
 dressed his troops in one of those eloquent and heart-stirring proclamations 
 which ever roused them to almost a phrensy of enthusiasm. " Soldiers !" 
 said he, " the campaign of the third coalition has commenced. Austria has 
 passed the Inn, violated its engagements, attacked and chased our ally from 
 his capital. We will not again make peace without sufficient guarantees. 
 Our generosity shall not again make us forget what we owe to ourselves. 
 You are but the advance-guard of the Great People. You may have forced 
 marches to undergo, fatigues and privations to endure. But, whatever obsta- 
 cles we may encounter, we shall overcome them, and never taste of repose 
 till we have placed our eagles on the territory of our enemies." 
 
 Matters were now rapidly approaching a crisis. Mack was fatally envel- 
 oped in the divisions of the French. Napoleon superintended every thing. 
 He was every where present. He slept not ; he rested not ; he scarcely 
 ate. On horseback by night and by day, he passed like the wind from post 
 to post. His mind seemed incapable of exhaustion, his body insensible to 
 fatigue. One cold, stormy night, when the rain was falling in floods, and a 
 freezing October gale swept hillside and valley, Napoleon, spattered with 
 mud and drenched with rain, rode on horseback through the black hours till 
 the lurid dawn of day. He then overtook a division of his army toiling pain- 
 fully through the storm. The soldiers were half dead with fatigue. 
 
 For many days and nights the weather had been frightful. The tributa- 
 ries of the Danube were swollen into torrents. The snow, melting as it fell, 
 had rendered the roads almost impassable. Without a murmur, they had 
 been making forced marches, dragging their heavy artillery through the miry 
 rut, and bidding defiance to every obstacle. In the gloom of the dismal 
 storm, Napoleon gathered the troops in a circle around him. Like a father 
 talking confidentially to his children, he explained to the soldiers the situa- 
 tion of the enemy, and the maneuvers by which he was surrounding them. 
 The soldiers, intoxicated by this proof of confidence from their Emperor,
 
 1805.] CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 457 
 
 burst into the most vehement transports of enthusiasm. As Napoleon again 
 put spurs to his horse and disappeared in the gloom of distance, a shout of 
 exultation rose from the multitudinous host which pierced the tempestuous 
 sky, and outroared the wailings of the storm. His words proved a tonic to 
 the whole exhausted host. With renovated energies they pressed on their 
 way. 
 
 Napoleon's gigantic plan was completely successful. The Austrians were 
 surrounded beyond all hope of escape. In twenty days, without a single 
 pitched battle, by a series of marches and a few skirmishes, the Austrian 
 army of 80,000 men was utterly destroyed. A few thousand only, in fugi- 
 tive bands, eluded the grasp of the victor, and fled through the defiles of the 
 mountains. The masterly maneuvers of the French columns had already 
 secured 30,000 prisoners almost without bloodshed. Thirty-six thousand 
 were shut up in Ulm. Their doom was sealed. The well-authenticated fact 
 seems almost incredible, that the Austrians, by this sudden apparition of Na- 
 poleon and his whole army in their rear, by the blow after blow which fell 
 upon them with lightning rapidity, and with the scathing severity of the 
 lightning's bolt, were in such a panic and so utterly bewildered, that one 
 night one hundred Austrians surrendered at discretion to a French officer 
 and two dragoons. 
 
 As the Emperor was one day passing through a crowd of prisoners, an 
 Austrian officer expressed his astonishment on seeing the Emperor of the 
 French, with his clothes saturated with rain and spattered with mud, pre- 
 senting a more comfortless aspect than the meanest drummer in his army. 
 
 ULM AND AUSTERLITZ. 
 
 For eight days and nights, during which the rain had been falling almost in- 
 cessantly in torrents, the Emperor had not taken off his clothes, or even his 
 boots, or thrown himself upon a couch for rest. One of the aids explained to 
 Napoleon the remark of the Austrian officer. " Your master," replied Na- 
 poleon, " has compelled me to resume the character of a soldier. I hope he 
 will allow that the throne and the imperial purple have not made me forget 
 my first profession." 
 
 The fatigue of the soldiers during the forced marches of these dreary days
 
 468 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXX. 
 
 of mud, and rain, and freezing cold, was dreadful. After a sleepless night 
 upon the storm-drenched ground, they often toiled all day almost without 
 food, and up to their knees in mire. Yet, whenever the Emperor appeared, 
 new vigor was infused into their exhausted frames, and they greeted him 
 with the most enthusiastic acclamations. The Austrian officers expressed 
 their surprise at this extraordinary attachment, and wondered that the sol- 
 diers, in the midst of such distress, could forget their sufferings the moment 
 they saw the Emperor. " They are right," Napoleon replied ; " it is to spare 
 their blood that I make them undergo such dreadful fatigue." 
 
 Jn the midst of these stormy scenes, Napoleon was one day riding on 
 horseback, when he saw a carriage advancing. A lady was in it, bathed in 
 tears. Napoleon inquired the cause of her distress. 
 
 " Sir," she replied, " I have been robbed by a party of soldiers, who have 
 killed my gardener. I am going to request that your Emperor will grant 
 me a guard. He once knew my family, and was under obligations to them." 
 
 " Your name ?" inquired Napoleon. 
 
 " I am the daughter of M. Marboeuf," she replied, " formerly governor of 
 Corsica." 
 
 " Madame," Napoleon rejoined, " I am delighted to have the opportunity 
 of serving you. I am myself the Emperor. Every member of M. Marbceuf s 
 family has a claim upon my gratitude." 
 
 He treated her with the greatest possible attention, gave her a picket of 
 chasseurs from his own guard to escort her, liberally rewarded her for the 
 losses she had sustained, and conveyed her to her home grateful and happy. 
 
 Napoleon sent General Segur to summon the garrison at Ulm to surren- 
 der. The niolit was chill and black. A terrific hurricane wrecked earth 
 
 O 
 
 and sky. The rain fell in floods. To pass to the city from the French 
 camp, the utmost caution was necessary to avoid gulfs in which both man 
 and horse might have foundered. The French advanced posts, main guards, 
 videttes, and sentinels, had all sought shelter from the drenching, freezing 
 storm. Not a watch-fire blazed upon the deluged ground. Even the parks 
 of artillery were deserted. With difficulty a trumpeter was found, under a 
 wagon, stiff with cold, and half drowned with mud and water. He was 
 taken to accompany the messenger, and with the blast of his bugle to seek 
 entrance at the city gates. The impetuous spirit of Napoleon was unmind- 
 ful of the darkness, the cold, and the tempest. He was ready for the as- 
 sault, and to spare the effusion of blood summoned a surrender. 
 
 Thirty-six thousand Austrians, in the extreme of dejection, were now 
 trembling behind the ramparts of Ulm. Napoleon, in person superintending 
 the approach, was hourly contracting the circle which confined the Impe- 
 rialists. His guns were placed upon the heights w T hich commanded the 
 city, and now and then a shell fell into the streets, a dreadful portent to the 
 terrified inhabitants of the approaching storm. Nothing remained for Mack 
 but capitulation. Prince Maurice was sent, early the next morning, to the 
 head-quarters of Napoleon. As is customary on such occasions, he was con- 
 ducted to head-quarters blindfolded. When the bandage was removed from 
 his eyes, he found himself in the presence of the Emperor. 
 
 The weather was dreadful. Chilling winds swept the bleak plains. The
 
 1805.] CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 459 
 
 sleet, which filled the air, melted as it reached the ground, and the miry roads, 
 trampled by horse and furrowed by artillery wheels, were almost impassable. 
 The Emperor was ever ready to share those hardships which he laid upon 
 his soldiers. The convoy found him in a wretched tent, through \vhich the 
 storm swept drearily. A few loose boards upon the ground kept his feet 
 from the water which deluged the plain. The prince proposed to surrender 
 upon condition that the garrison should be permitted to retire to Austria. 
 Napoleon smiled, and replied, 
 
 " What reason can I have to comply with such a request ? In a week you 
 will be in my power without conditions. I am perfectly acquainted with 
 your situation. You expect the advance of the Russians. They have 
 scarcely yet arrived in Bohemia. And then, if I allow you to depart, what 
 guarantee have I that your troops will not be united with those of Russia, 
 and be made to fight against me again ? Your generals have often deceived 
 me thus. I will not again be their dupe. At Marengo I suffered Melas to 
 march with his forces from Alessandria. Two months afterward Moreau 
 had to fight the same men, notwithstanding the most solemn promises on 
 the part of your government to conclude peace. After such conduct as I 
 have experienced from the Austrian cabinet, I can trust to no engagement. 
 The war is not of my seeking. It has been a violation of faith throughout. 
 Return to your general, and inform him that I can not grant what he requires. 
 Your officers alone can be allowed to return to Austria. The soldiers must 
 remain prisoners. He must be brief in his decision. I have no time to lose. 
 The longer he delays, the worse he will render his own situation and that of 
 his army." 
 
 The next day General Mack himself visited Napoleon. He was treated 
 with that courtesy and generosity with which Napoleon ever addressed a 
 fallen foe. The conqueror demonstrated to General Mack the utter hope- 
 lessness of his condition. He convinced him that all farther resistance must 
 be unavailing. In glowing colors he depicted the carnage which must ensue 
 from taking the place by assault. He implored the general, as a humane 
 man, to spare him the cruel necessity of throwing his shells into the thronged 
 dwellings of the city, and of surrendering its beautiful streets to the horrors 
 of fire and the sword. It was clearly in vain to protract the struggle. Mack, 
 with anguish, consented to the surrender. Napoleon was overjoyed that he 
 had thus been enabled to mitigate the miseries of war by disarming his ene- 
 mies almost without bloodshed. 
 
 The next day was cold, clear, and brilliant. It witnessed a scene unpar- 
 alleled in modern warfare. Europe was astonished and appalled by its nar- 
 ration. Thirty-six thousand troops marched out of the gates of Ulm, and 
 laid down their arms before the conqueror. Napoleon, with his magnificent 
 staff, stood upon an eminence before the fire of a bivouac, as the melancholy 
 array, for five hours, defiled before him. It must have been a proud hour to 
 the victor. Yet no gesture and no expression of his serene countenance re- 
 vealed the slightest emotion of exultation. In touching terms, magnanimous 
 and sympathetic, he thus addressed the vanquished officers-: 
 
 " Gentlemen, War has its chances. Often victorious, you must expect 
 sometimes to be vanquished. Your master wages against me an unjust war-
 
 470 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXX, 
 
 NAPOLEON BEFORE ULM. 
 
 I say it candidly, I know not for what I am fighting. I know not what he 
 requires of me. lie has wished to remind me that I was once a soldier. I 
 trust he will find that I have not forgotten my original avocation. I want 
 nothing on the Continent. I desire ships, colonies, and commerce. Their 
 acquisition would be as advantageous to you as to me." 
 
 Again he remarked to a group of Austrian officers, as the procession of 
 captives continued to defile before him, " It is truly deplorable that such 
 honorable men as yourselves, whose names are spoken of with honor wher- 
 ever you have combated, should be made the victims of an insane cabinet 
 intent on most chimerical projects. It was already a sufficient crime to have 
 attacked me in the midst of peace without any declaration of war. But this 
 offense is trivial compared with that of bringing into the heart of Europe a 
 horde of barbarians, and allowing an Asiatic power to mix itself up with our 
 disputes. Instead of attacking me without a cause, the Aulic Council should 
 rather have united their forces to mine, in order to repel the Russian force. 
 Such an alliance is monstrous. It is the alliance of the dogs and the wolves 
 against the sheep. Had France fallen in the strife, you would not have been 
 long in perceiving the error you had committed." 
 
 At this moment a French officer repeated an insulting expression which
 
 1805.] CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 471 
 
 he had heard from the common soldiers in regard to the Austrian captives. 
 Napoleon severely rebuked the officer, and ordered him to retire. " You 
 must have little respect for yourself," said he, " to insult men bowed down 
 by such a misfortune." 
 
 The joy and exultation in the French army passed all bounds. Such vic- 
 tories, with so little bloodshed, were never known before. The enthusiasm 
 of the troops and their devotion to the Emperor became boundless. " The 
 Little Corporal," exclaimed the veterans to each other, " has discovered a 
 new method of carrying on war. He makes more use of our legs than of 
 our bayonets." The following proclamation electrified Europe by the stu-- 
 pendous successes it commemorated, and by the nervous eloquence with 
 which its sentences glowed. 
 
 " Soldiers of the grand army ! In fifteen days we have concluded a cam- 
 paign. We have kept our promise. We have chased the troops of Austria 
 from the Bavarian territories, and have re-established our ally in the posses- 
 sion of his states. That army which, with so much ostentation and pre- 
 sumption, had advanced to our frontiers, is annihilated. But what signifies 
 that to England ? We are no longer at Boulogne. 
 
 "Of 100,000 men who composed that army, 60,000 are prisoners. They 
 will replace our conscripts in the labor of the fields. Two hundred pieces 
 of cannon, their whole park of ammunition, and ninety standards, are in our 
 possession. From that whole army not fifteen thousand have escaped. 
 
 " Soldiers ! I announced to you a great battle ; but, thanks to the faulty 
 combinations of the enemy, I have obtained these immense advantages with- 
 out incurring any risk. And, what is unexampled in the history of nations, 
 this great result has not weakened us by the loss of fifteen hundred men. 
 Soldiers ! This astonishing success is owing to your boundless confidence in 
 your Emperor, to your patience in undergoing fatigue, to your rare intrepid- 
 ity. But we will not rest here ! Already I see you are burning to com- 
 mence a second campaign. The gold of England has brought against us a 
 Russian army from the extremities of the universe. We will make it under- 
 go the same fate. There are no generals there whom it would add to my 
 glory to vanquish. All my care shall be to obtain the victory with as little 
 effusion of blood as possible. My soldiers are my children." 
 
 "Napoleon," says Bourrienne, "was completely subdued in spirit when 
 he was the conqueror. He received the vanquished with kindness. Nor 
 was this the result of a feeling of pride concealed under the mask of hypoc- 
 risy. I am sure he pitied them sincerely. I have often heard him remark, 
 ' How much to be pitied is a general on the day after a lost battle.' " When 
 the Austrian court, in its exasperation, was about to wreak unjust vengeance 
 upon General Mack, Napoleon humanely interfered to save him from con- 
 demnation by a court-martial. 
 
 He sent to the Senate the flags taken from the enemy. In his letter to 
 this body he says, "The primary object of the war is already fulfilled. The 
 Elector of Bavaria is re-established upon his throne. The aggressors have 
 been struck as by a thunderbolt. Assisted by Divine Providence, I hope, in 
 a short time, to triumph over all my enemies." He wrote, at the same time, 
 a circular to all the bishops in the empire, requesting them, in gratitude to
 
 472 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [ClIAP. XXX. 
 
 God, to sing a Te Deum in all the churches. " The dazzling victories," said 
 he, "which our armies have just obtained against the unjust league formed 
 by the hatred and the gold of England, renders it necessary that my people 
 should address their thanks to the God of armies for the past, arid implore 
 His blessing for the future." 
 
 Just before the capitulation of Ulm, Napoleon sent Captain Bernard, a 
 young officer of engineers, on an important reconnoitering expedition. With 
 great skill and intrepidity he prosecuted his mission, advancing almost to 
 Vienna. Upon his return Napoleon personally examined him, and was much 
 pleased with his answers. Among other things, the engineer remarked that 
 it would be of great advantage to direct the army upon Vienna, passing by 
 the fortified places, and that, once master of the capital, the Emperor might 
 dictate laws to the whole Austrian monarchy. This was taking too great a 
 liberty. Napoleon severely replied, 
 
 " You are very presumptuous ! A young officer to pretend to trace out a 
 campaign for me ! Go and await my orders." 
 
 As soon as the young man had retired, Napoleon turned to General Rapp 
 and said, " There is a man of merit. He has observed correctly. I shall 
 not expose him to the risk of being shot. I shall have occasion for him by- 
 and-by. Tell Berthier to dispatch an order for his departure for Illyria." 
 
 This young man finally became an aid of Napoleon, and one of the most 
 distinguished engineers in the world. Upon the overthrow of his illustrious 
 master, declining the most brilliant offers from the different sovereigns of 
 Europe, he retired to the United States. Here he took the command of the 
 corps of engineers, and executed works in civil and military engineering 
 which will forever remain memorials of his genius. 
 
 The following anecdote illustrates the implicit and exact obedience which 
 Napoleon demanded and enforced. He arrived at Strasburg the 25th of Sep- 
 tember. He had ordered all the divisions of the grand army, converging by 
 various routes, to defile across the Rhine, by the bridge of Kehl, the next 
 day. The general officers were directed to meet him at the head of the 
 bridge at six o'clock in the morning. An hour before the appointed time, in 
 spite of the rain which was pouring from the skies in floods, Napoleon, in the 
 gloom of the yet undawned morning, w T as at the rendezvous. The columns 
 were already crossing the bridge, and ranging themselves upon the other 
 side of the river. As Napoleon sat upon his horse, exposed to the fury of 
 the storm, the water, dripping from his clothes, made quite a pool beneath 
 him. His hat was so soaked by the rain that the rim flapped down upon 
 his shoulders. Calmly, silently, and apparently unannoyed by any sense of 
 discomfort, he contemplated the passage of the troops. Soon the officers 
 gathered around. Napoleon interrupted the silence by saying, 
 
 " Gentlemen, we have gained a grand march upon our enemies." Then, 
 dancing his eye around the group, he exclaimed, with rapid utterance, " But 
 where is Vandamme ? Why is he not here ? Is he dead ?" 
 
 For a moment all were silent. Then General Chard on ventured to reply, 
 "Sire, it is possible that General Vandamme is not yet awake. Last even- 
 ing we drank several glasses of wine together to the health of your majesty 
 and perhaps "
 
 1805.] 
 
 CAMPAIGN OF ULM. 
 
 473 
 
 NAPOLEON AT THE BRIDGE OF KEHL. 
 
 "General!" interrupted Napoleon, with severity, "you did well to drink 
 to my health yesterday, but to-day Vandamme does wrong to sleep when he 
 knows that I await him." 
 
 General Chardon offered to dispatch one of his aids to call his companion 
 in arms. 
 
 " Let Vandamme sleep," said Napoleon. " He will perhaps awake him- 
 self ; then I will speak to him." 
 
 At that moment Vandamme appeared. He was pale with agitation, and 
 exceedingly embarrassed. " General !" said Napoleon, glancing at him a 
 severe look, "it appears that you have forgotten the order which I have 
 issued." 
 
 "Sire," said General Vandamme, "this is the first time that I have thus 
 offended. And I assure you that I was this morning extremely unwell, be- 
 cause " 
 
 " Because," interrupted Napoleon, " last night you were as tipsy as a Ger- 
 man. But, lest that calamity should happen to you a second time, you will 
 go to combat under the flag of the King of Wiirtemberg, that, if possible, 
 you may give the Germans a lesson upon temperance." 
 
 Vandamme retired in disgrace. The same day he joined the army off 
 Wiirtemberg. During the brief campaign he performed prodigies of valor. 
 After the capitulation of Ulm, Napoleon again saw him, commended him for 
 his services, and again received him into favor, saying, " General ! never 
 forget that I honor brave men. But I do not love those who sleep when I 
 am waiting. Let us say no more about it." 
 
 In crossing a swollen stream, the captain of a company was swept away 
 by the torrent. A soldier, whom that captain had degraded in consequence 
 of some fault of discipline, plunged into the stream, and saved the life of
 
 474 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXX. 
 
 the drowning officer. Napoleon heard of it. Immediately he sent for the 
 soldier. 
 
 " You are a brave man," said he. " Your captain had degraded you, and 
 he had reason to do so. In saving his life, you have proved that there is no 
 rancor in your breast. This is noble. You are now at quits. But as for' 
 me, I am not at quits toward you. I appoint you quarter-master, and make 
 you chevalier of the Legion of Honor. To your captain you owe this pro- 
 motion. Go and thank him." 
 
 This even-handed justice, punishing his proudest generals when they de- 
 served it, and appreciating and rewarding, in the humblest soldier, any trial 
 of courage or magnanimity, accounts, in part, for that almost superhuman 
 love with which Napoleon bound all hearts to himself. 
 
 On the 17th of October, Napoleon rode forty-two miles on horseback with- 
 out one moment of rest. He then, booted and spurred, arid wrapped in his 
 muddy cloak, threw himself upon some straw in a cow-shed for an hour of 
 sleep. Not a mile from where Napoleon was reposing, in the midst of the 
 lowing herds, the Bishop of Augsburg had splendidly illuminated his aristo- 
 cratic palace, and a bed of down, curtained with silken drapery, was pre- 
 pared to receive the Emperor. But Napoleon would not sleep in ceiled 
 chambers when his soldiers were suffering, through the dreary night, in pools 
 of water on the cold unsheltered ground. 
 
 TUii BIVOUAC.
 
 1805.] AUSTERLITZ. 475 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AUSTERLITZ. 
 
 Peril of the Emperor Oath of Alexander and Frederick William Daring Energy of Napoleon 
 Anniversary of the Coronation Untiring Activity of Napoleon Proclamation His Vigilance 
 Battle of Austerlitz Interview between the French and Austrian Emperors Touching Anec- 
 dote Magnanimity of Napoleon Proclamation Disappointment of the Authorities at Paris 
 William Pitt Generosity of the Emperor Letters to Josephine. 
 
 THE capitulation at Ulm took place the 20th of October, 1805. Astound- 
 ing as was the victory which Napoleon had just achieved, still his peril was 
 imminent. One hundred and sixteen thousand Russians, headed by the Em- 
 peror Alexander, were hurrying through the plains of Poland to meet Napo- 
 leon. From every quarter of Austria columns of troops were in rapid march 
 to unite \vith the Russians. In a combined band of overwhelming numbers 
 they determined to crush their audacious foe. Alexander repaired in person 
 to Berlin, and employed all the weight of his authority, and all the fascina- 
 tions of his captivating manners, to unite the army of Prussia, 200,000 
 strong, with the Allies. The Queen of Prussia, a beautiful woman, proud, 
 ambitious, and animated by the inspiration of genius, conceived the idea of 
 uniting the two sovereigns by an oath which should never be forgotten. At 
 midnight, Alexander and Frederick William descended into the dark and dis- 
 mal tomb of Frederick the Great. 
 
 A single torch revealed the gloom of the regal mausoleum. Thus stand- 
 ing in the dead of night by the coffin of the renowned warrior, they bound 
 themselves by a solemn oath to sustain the cause of the allied kings against 
 those principles of popular liberty which threatened the subversion of every 
 European throne. 
 
 England disembarked a force of thirty thousand troops in Hanover to hast- 
 en to the scene of conflict. It was apparently time for Napoleon to retreat, 
 or at least strongly to fortify himself, and await the assault of his combined 
 foes. But,, to the amazement of all Europe, he audaciously pressed on into 
 the very midst of impending destruction. Like an inundation, his victorious 
 army rolled down the valley of the Danube, sweeping every thing before 
 them. Neither rivers, nor batteries, nor hostile legions could for an hour re- 
 tard his march. Every soldier seemed to have imbibed the spirit of his 
 commander. It was a band of iron men insensible to fatigue or to fear. 
 
 In three days Napoleon entered Munich, the capital of Bavaria. The 
 whole city blazed with illumination ; enthusiastic shouts welcomed the de- 
 liverer. But Napoleon rested not for an hour. He allowed his discomfited 
 foes not one moment to recover from their panic. " Forward, forward to 
 Vienna," was the command. The impetuous torrent, horsemen, infantry, 
 artillery, rolled resistlessly on. Terror and destruction had fallen upon the 
 empire so suddenly that they overawed like a supernatural infliction. All 
 Austria was in consternation. Francis fled from his capital. The panic in
 
 476 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [Cl!AP. XXXI. 
 
 Vienna was dreadful ; and still each day the mighty host drew nearer. Re- 
 sistance was in vain. The Austnans and Russians, retreating from the blows 
 which fell so thick and heavily upon them, fled to join the proud army which 
 Alexander was leading to the rescue. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th of November the bugles of the French were 
 heard upon the heights which surround Vienna, and the polished steel of 
 their armor glittered in the rays of the morning sun. It was a clear, cold 
 winter day. A deputation of the citizens waited upon Napoleon, imploring 
 his clemency. He assured them of his protection. The Russians, in their 
 semi-barbarian lust and cruelty, had left desolation wherever they had ap- 
 peared. The French, preserving perfect military discipline, and treating all 
 the peaceful inhabitants with justice and with courtesy, were hailed by the 
 people almost as deliverers. No private property was allowed to be touch- 
 ed, and no person to be injured. But the government chests and the arse- 
 nals fell into the hands of the victor. They were abundantly filled with the 
 munitions of war. One hundred thousand muskets, two thousand cannon, 
 and military supplies of every kind, replenished the stores of the conquerors. 
 Such achievements were unparalleled. In twenty days Napoleon had 
 marched from the ocean to the Rhine; in forty days from the Rhine to Vi- 
 enna. His foes had been dispersed before him like autumnal leaves by the 
 whirlwind. 
 
 But Napoleon, though thus victorious, was in a situation critical in the 
 extreme. Europe deemed him irretrievably ruined. He was hundreds of 
 leagues from his own capital. It was cold and icy winter. With compara- 
 tively a small army, he was far away in the heart of one of the most proud 
 and powerful monarchies upon the globe. The Archduke Charles, with 
 70,000 Austrians, was rapidly approaching from the south. Active agents 
 of Francis were rallying 80,000 Hungarians to rush to the conflict. The 
 tramp of 100,000 Russians was but a few days' march before him. His rear 
 was exposed to assault from 200,000 Prussians. Surely Napoleon will stop 
 and fortify himself behind the ramparts of Vienna. But no ! The command 
 is still " Onward, onward." Not a moment was allowed for repose. Yet, 
 while thus, with apparent recklessness, pressing forward into the midst of his 
 multitudinous foes, the utmost caution and vigilance was exercised to guard 
 against any possible disaster. While Napoleon was one of the most' adven- 
 turous of men, he was also one of the most wary and prudent. 
 
 " If Napoleon," says his brother Louis, " in his bold and often hazardous 
 actions, seemed to calculate wholly on his good fortune, no person appeared 
 to leave less to accident in the conception of his plans. No human caution 
 which it was possible to adopt was ever, I believe, neglected or forgotten 
 by Napoleon previous to his disastrous campaign at Moscow. He always 
 considered things under every imaginable aspect ; and though he never, or 
 scarcely ever, experienced reverses, he was, in every enterprise, prepared 
 beforehand for whatever misfortune might happen. He had always made 
 up his mind as to the part \vhich it might be necessary for him to adopt, let 
 the result be what it would. This was what he called conceiving a plan." 
 
 The cold winds of winter now swept the plains ; the driving snow whiten- 
 ed the hills. Still the indomitable host pressed on, till, amid the dark storms
 
 1805.] AUSTERLITZ. 477 
 
 of the north it had disappeared from the observation of France. Upon the 
 field of Austerlitz, fifteen hundred miles from the capital of France, Napo- 
 leon met his foes. An army of nearly 100,000 men, headed by the two em- 
 perors, Alexander and Francis, flushed with anticipated victory, arrested the 
 steps of the conqueror. Not an hour was to be lost. Napoleon had but 
 70,000 men. From all directions the clangor of arms was heard, as horse- 
 men and footmen, in uncounted thousands, were hurrying on to add still 
 greater strength to the allied host. 
 
 It was the morning of the 1st of December when Napoleon came in sight 
 of his foes. With " inexpressible delight" he says he beheld their solid col- 
 umns, dark and massy, moving before him at so short a distance as to render 
 it evident that a decisive action was at hand. With intense interest he 
 watched their movements, and immediately detected their plan of attack 
 Penetrating their designs, he was at once confident of victory. " To-mor- 
 row," said Napoleon, " before nightfall, that army shall be my own." 
 
 He spent the whole day on horseback, riding along the ranks, speaking 
 words of encouragement to the soldiers, and studying the capabilities of the 
 ground, and making the most careful arrangements for the wounded. It was 
 his invariable custom not only to give his directions most minutely, but also 
 to inform himself if his directions had been obeyed. Wherever he appeared 
 among the troops, he was greeted with shouts of " Vive 1'Empereur !" The 
 shades of night had settled over the camp, and Napoleon was still continu- 
 ing his preparations for the decisive battle which the morning was to usher 
 in. As he rode along the lines in the gloom of midnight, a soldier attached 
 to his bayonet a bundle of straw, and setting it on fire, raised the brilliant 
 torch in the air. It was the anniversary of the coronation of the Emperor. 
 Instantly the whole camp, extending for miles, blazed with illuminations, as 
 the soldiers elevated, flaming into the air, the straw provided for their biv- 
 ouacs. The ruddy glow gleamed over the hills, and sent wonder and a 
 strange apprehension to the heart of the hostile legions. Transported with 
 the enthusiasm of the moment, the army raised a simultaneous shout, which, 
 like the roar of many waters, pierced the night air, and vibrated in ominous 
 thunders through the tents of the Allies. Napoleon reined in his horse. It 
 was midnight. For a moment, silent, pale, pensive, he gazed upon the sub- 
 lime spectacle, and listened, with emotions undivulged, to the acclamations 
 of seventy thousand voices. Then retiring to his tent, he dictated, with the 
 utmost rapidity of utterance, the following proclamation : 
 
 " Soldiers ! The Russian army has presented itself before you to revenge 
 the disasters of the Austrians at Ulm. They are the same men whom you 
 have conquered at Hollabrunn, and on whose flying traces you have follow- - 
 ed. The positions which we occupy are formidable. While they are march- 
 ing to turn my right, they must present their flank to your blows. Soldiers ! 
 I will myself direct all your battalions. I will keep myself at a distance 
 from the fire, if, with your accustomed valor, you carry disorder and confu- 
 sion into the enemy's ranks. But should victory appear for a moment un- 
 certain, you shall see your Emperor expose himself to the first strokes. Vic- 
 tory must not be doubtful on this occasion." 
 
 Never before did a general venture to announce to his soldiers the maneu- 
 VOL. II. M
 
 478 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 ver by which he expected to gain a victory. A single deserter might have 
 exposed it to the foe, but Napoleon knew in whom he confided. Never be- 
 fore did a general endeavor to rouse his soldiers to desperation of courage 
 by the assurance that he would keep himself out of the reach of all danger ! 
 Never will mortal man again acquire such an ascendency as to undertake to 
 repeat that experiment. Say not that Napoleon was but a merciless, am- 
 bitious, bloodthirsty conqueror. Human hearts are not won by cruelty and 
 selfishness. Napoleon was the kind friend of every man of the seventy thou- 
 sand who rallied beneath his eagles. And thus, and thus only, he secured the 
 deathless homage of all these hearts. 
 
 The night was cold and clear. A dense fog, however, settled upon the 
 lower grounds, enveloping friend and foe in an impenetrable sea of obscurity. 
 The horizon was illumined for leagues around with the bivouac fires of the 
 antagonistic hosts. Gradually the unreplenished piles burned out, and si- 
 lence and darkness brooded over the sleeping armies. At four o'clock Na- 
 poleon was on horseback. A confused murmur, piercing the dense fog, re- 
 vealed to his experienced ear that the Russian columns were in full march 
 to surprise him, by the attack he had anticipated upon his flank. By this 
 movement the Allies weakened their centre, and exposed it to the concen- 
 trated attack which Napoleon was prepared to make. The bugles sounded. 
 The French soldiers sprang from the frozen ground, and, as by magic, form- 
 ed themselves in battle array. Every officer knew the part he was to per- 
 form. Every soldier was impatient for the conflict. The stars still shone 
 brightly in the wintry sky, and not a ray of light dawned in the east. 
 
 Gradually the stars disappeared. A ruddy glow illumined the horizon, 
 and the sun rose unclouded and brilliant, gilding the hill-tops and penetrat- 
 ing the ocean of vapor which rolled in the valleys. It was the " Sun of 
 Austerlitz." Its gorgeous rising produced a deep impression upon the imag- 
 ination of Napoleon. Often in after years he apostrophized the sun as his 
 guiding star. The marshals surrounding the Emperor were burning with 
 impatience as they awaited the signal of attack. 
 
 "How long," said Napoleon to Marshal Soult, "would it take you, from 
 hence, to reach the heights of Prutzen ?" This was one of the heights in the 
 centre of the allied army which the enemy were deserting in their flank 
 march. 
 
 " Less than twenty minutes," replied the marshal. " My troops are in the 
 bottom of the valley, covered with mist and with the smoke of their bivou- 
 acs. The enemy can not see them." 
 
 "In that case," said Napoleon, "let us wait twenty minutes. When the 
 enemy is making a false movement, we must take good care not to interrupt 
 him." 
 
 Soon the heavy booming of artillery announced that the Russians had 
 commenced a furious attack upon the right. " Now, then," said Napoleon, 
 " is the moment." The marshals instantly galloped in all directions to head 
 their respective corps. Napoleon, plunging his spurs into his steed, galloped 
 to the front ranks of the foremost columns. As he rode along the line, he 
 exclaimed, "Soldiers! the enemy has imprudently exposed himself to your 
 blows. We shall finish this war with a clap of thunder."
 
 1805.] 
 
 AUSTL'RLITZ. 
 
 479 
 
 THE SUN OF AUSTEIIL1TZ. 
 
 With resistless impetuosity, the solid columns of the French pierced the 
 Weakened centre of the Allies. The conflict was desperate arid most san- 
 guinary. But nothing could resist the headlong valor of the assailants. The 
 allied army was pierced and cut entirely in twain. Horsemen and footmen 
 were trampled beneath the tread of the proud victors. The field was filled 
 with a rabble of fugitives flying in wild dismay, as the cavalry of the impe- 
 rial guard rode over them and sabred them mercilessly. Napoleon, leaving 
 a few battalions to prevent the right wing from coming to the rescue of the 
 left, turned with nearly his whole force upon the left, and destroyed it. He 
 then directed the terrible onset upon the right wing of the Allies, and it was 
 no more.
 
 480 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 A division of the ruined army, consisting of many thousand men and horse, 
 sought to escape by crossing, with artillery and cavalry, a frozen lake which 
 adjoined their line of march. The surface began to yield beneath the enor- 
 mous load, when a few balls and shells from the French batteries broke the 
 ice, and the whole mass was plunged into the freezing waves. A fearful cry, 
 resounding above the roar of battle, ascended from the lake, as the frantic 
 host struggled for a few moments in the agonies of death. But soon the icy 
 waves closed silently over them all, and those unhappy victims were sepul- 
 chred forever. From a neighboring eminence the Emperors of Russia and 
 Austria witnessed the entire discomfiture of their armies. Accompanied by 
 a few followers, in the deepest dejection they joined the fugitives and the 
 stragglers, and fled from the field of disaster. In the profound darkness of 
 the ensuing night, they retreated precipitately and almost alone over the 
 plains of Moravia. 
 
 Thus terminated the battle of Austerlitz. It was the most brilliant of the 
 victories of Napoleon. The whole campaign added new lustre to the genius 
 of the conqueror. The loss of the Allies was immense. Fifteen thousand 
 were killed or wounded. Twenty thousand were taken prisoners. One 
 hundred and eighty pieces of cannon, forty-five standards, and an immense 
 quantity of baggage-wagons remained the trophies of the victors' triumph. 
 The reserve of Napoleon had hardly been called into action during the day. 
 But forty-five thousand of the French troops had been engaged, and they had 
 beaten ninety thousand Russians and Austrians. 
 
 No language can describe the frightful confusion and disorder which per- 
 vaded the ranks of the retreating foe. The genius of Napoleon never shone 
 more terribly than in the blows which he dealt upon an enemy flying before 
 him. The barbarian Russians, wild with dismay, filled the heavens with 
 their phrensied shouts, and wreaked a blind and merciless vengeance upon 
 the villages scattered along their route. The squadrons of Napoleon pursued 
 them in all directions, and trampled their gory bodies into the earth. The 
 Emperor Francis, seeing that all was irretrievably lost, sent Prince John to 
 Napoleon to implore an armistice. The hours of the bloody day had passed, 
 and midnight had again settled over the gory plain. 
 
 The prince found Napoleon upon the field of battle, carrying succor with 
 his own hand to the wounded, and speaking to their grateful hearts words of 
 sympathy and encouragement. He would allow himself no rest till with his 
 own eyes he had seen that all his wounded men were sheltered. Many a 
 dying soldier, with tearful gaze, in his last agonies looked up and blessed 
 his Emperor. Napoleon administered cordials to their parched lips, and 
 with his own hands stripped the cloaks from the dead to cover their shiver- 
 ing frames. 
 
 Napoleon received the prince courteously. He assured him that most 
 earnestly he desired peace, and that it would afford him satisfaction to have 
 an interview with the Emperor of Austria on the following day. In the 
 mean time, he issued orders to pursue the retiring foe with the utmost vigor. 
 His position was still perilous in the extreme. Despotic Europe was band- 
 ed against him. Another powerful Russian army was marching down from 
 the north. Hungary was rising en masse. Prince Ferdinand was approach-
 
 1805.] AUSTERLITZ. 481 
 
 ing Vienna at the head of 80,000 men. Prussia, with her 200,000 troops, 
 was threatening his rear. Napoleon was conscious of his peril and con- 
 scious of his power. 
 
 The next morning he addressed his troops in the following proclamation : 
 " Soldiers ! I am satisfied with you. In the battle of Austerlitz you have 
 justified all that I expected from your intrepidity. You have decorated your 
 eagles with immortal glory. An army of 100,000 men, commanded by the 
 Emperors of Russia and of Austria, has been, in less than four hours, either 
 cut in pieces or dispersed. Thus, in two months, the third coalition has been 
 vanquished and dissolved. Peace can not now b& far distant. But I will 
 make only such a peace as gives us guarantees for the future, and secures 
 rewards to our allies. When every thing necessary to secure the happiness 
 and prosperity of our country is obtained, I will lead you back to France. 
 My people will again behold you with joy. It will be enough for one of you 
 to say, ' I was at the battle of Austerlitz,' for all your fellow-citizens to ex- 
 claim, ' There is a brave man !' ' 
 
 The next morning the Emperor Francis, accompanied by a small escort 
 of guards, repaired, in a carriage drawn by six horses, to the place appointed 
 for the interview. He found Napoleon standing before the fire of a bivouac. 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE EMPEROR FRANCIS I. 
 
 A- wind-mill by his side afforded a partial shelter from the wintry gale which 
 swept the bleak hills. Napoleon, with great courtesy, greeted the Emperor 
 of Austria as he alighted from his carriage, and said to him, 
 
 " I receive you in the only palace which I have inhabited for the last two 
 months." 
 
 " You have made such good use," Francis very happily replied, " of that 
 habitation, that it should be agreeable to you."
 
 482 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXI 
 
 The two monarchs conversed together for two hours, and agreed verbally 
 to terms of accommodation. Francis, mortified and exasperated, endeavored 
 to throw the blame of his own perfidy upon England. 
 
 " The English," he exclaimed, " are a nation of merchants. In order to 
 secure for themselves the commerce of the world, they are willing to set the 
 Continent in flames." 
 
 Having obtained better terms for himself than he had any right to ex- 
 pect, the Austrian monarch next interceded for his ally Alexander. " The 
 Russian army," replied Napoleon, "is surrounded. Not a man can es- 
 cape me. If, however, your majesty will promise that Alexander shall at 
 once return to Russia, I will stop the advance of my columns." Francis 
 pledged his honor that the Russian emperor should immediately withdraw 
 his forces. 
 
 When the Emperor Francis had withdrawn, Napoleon walked for a mo- 
 ment to and fro before the fire, with his hands clasped behind his back. 
 After a short silence, during which he appeared absorbed in thought, he was 
 overheard to say, " I have acted very unwisely. I could have followed up 
 my victory, and have taken the whole of the Austrian and Russian armies. 
 They are both entirely in my power. But let it be. It will at least cause 
 some less tears to be shed." 
 
 Napoleon immediately dispatched General Savary to the head-quarters of 
 Alexander, to inquire if he would ratify the armistice. 
 
 " I am happy to see you," said the Emperor to the envoy. " The occa- 
 sion has been very glorious for your arms. That day will take nothing from 
 the reputation which your master has earned in so many battles. It was my 
 first engagement. I confess that the rapidity of his maneuvers never gave 
 me time to succor the menaced points. Every where you were at least 
 double the number of our forces." 
 
 " Sire," Savary replied, " our force was twenty-five thousand less than 
 yours. And even of that, the whole was not very warmly engaged. But 
 we maneuvered much, and the same division combated at many different 
 points. Therein lies the art of war. The Emperor, who has seen forty 
 pitched battles, is never wanting in that particular. He is still ready to 
 march against the Archduke Charles, if your majesty does not accept the 
 armistice." 
 
 " What guarantee does your master require ?" replied Alexander ; " and 
 what security can I have that your troops will not prosecute their movements 
 against me ?" 
 
 " He asks only your word of honor," Savary replied. " He has instruct- 
 ed me, the moment it is given, to suspend the pursuit." 
 
 " I give it with pleasure," rejoined the Emperor. "And should it ever be 
 your fortune to visit St. Petersburg, I hope that I may be able to render my 
 capital agreeable to you." 
 
 Hostilities immediately ceased. The fragments of the two defeated ar- 
 mies retired without further molestation to their homes. 
 
 As Napoleon was returning to Vienna, he met a large convoy of wounded 
 Austrians on their route for the hospitals of the capital. He immediately 
 alighted from his carriage, and, uncovering his head, exclaimed, " Honor to
 
 1805.J AUSTERLITZ. 483 
 
 the brave in misfortune !" His suite followed his example. The Emperor 
 stood in pensive silence, with his hat in his hand, as the melancholy proces- 
 sion of the wounded and the dying passed along. The human heart is ever 
 responsive to such appeals. These men had lavished their blood contending 
 against Napoleon. But this development of sympathy in one moment dis- 
 armed all enmity, and irresistibly won their love and admiration. 
 
 France had been perfidiously assailed by the allied powers. In repelling 
 the assault, millions of money had been expended, all the arts of peace had 
 been interrupted, and seven thousand Frenchmen had sacrificed their lives. 
 Napoleon wisely resolved so to strengthen his position as no longer, by weak- 
 ness, to invite such attacks. With characteristic magnanimity, he added not 
 one foot to the territory of France. He compelled Austria to pay the ex- 
 penses of the war. He raised the Electors of Bavaria and Wurtemberg to 
 the dignity of kings, adding to the one power 1,000,000 inhabitants, and to 
 the other 183,000. The little state of Baden also gained 113,000 subjects. 
 Thus he rewarded his friends, and strengthened the barriers placed between 
 France and the three great despots of Europe Russia, Prussia, and Austria. 
 To remove Austria farther from his eastern frontier, he annexed the state of 
 Venice to the Italian kingdom, and gave Austria in exchange the electorate 
 of Salsburg. These changes were all important to protect France from fu- 
 ture assaults. Napoleon would have been singularly wanting in political 
 foresight had he exacted less. He could not have been accused of injustice 
 had he demanded more. He wished to interpose a barrier of subordinate 
 kingdoms, friendly to France, between his empire and the dominions of his 
 powerful and unrelenting foes. Every dictate of humanity and of policy de- 
 manded that he should thus shelter France from the assaults of conquered 
 but still hostile nations. 
 
 Immediately upon the signing of the articles of peace, Napoleon made the 
 following communication to his soldiers : " Peace has just been signed with 
 the Emperor of Austria. You have, in the last autumn, made two cam- 
 paigns. You have seen your Emperor share your dangers and your fatigues. 
 I wish also that you should see him surrounded with the grandeur and splen- 
 dor which belong to the sovereign of the first people in the world. You shall 
 all be there. We will celebrate the names of those who have died in these 
 two campaigns on the field of honor. The world shall ever see us ready to 
 follow their example. We will even do more than we yet have done, if 
 necessary to vindicate our national honor, or to resist the efforts of those 
 who are the eternal enemies of peace upon the Continent. During the three 
 months which are necessary to effect your return to France, prove the exam- 
 ple for all armies. You have now to give testimonies, not of courage and 
 intrepidity, but of strict discipline. Conduct yourselves like children in the 
 bosom of their family." 
 
 Napoleon now gave directions to the army to retrace their steps to France, 
 by slow and easy marches. He himself proceeded to Paris with the utmost 
 rapidity, allowing himself no time to enjoy the triumphs which were prepared 
 to greet him by the way. The public authorities of Paris had made ar- 
 rangements for a magnificent reception on his arrival. He, however, disap- 
 pointed them by entering Paris at night, unattended by any escort. The
 
 484 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 next day the mayor and other public functionaries called upon him, and in 
 their congratulatory address expressed regret that he had not given them 
 opportunity to testify their gratitude by a public triumph for the services he 
 had rendered his country. 
 
 'Napoleon returned the following memorable reply : " Had I been defeated, 
 I would have made a public entry. Our enemies would then have been con- 
 vinced, from the manner of my reception by the good citizens of Paris, that 
 the attachment which they have always shown me was not confined to my 
 fortune. Though vanquished, they would still consider their cause and mine 
 inseparably united. Returning a victor, I would not hazard their being ac- 
 cused of servile adulation." 
 
 This formidable confederacy, which Napoleon had shattered at a blow, was 
 organized by William Pitt. Its utter overthrow was fatal also to the am- 
 bitious spirit which formed it. When the news reached him of the total de- 
 struction of the allied army at Austerlitz, he gazed long and sadly upon the 
 map of Europe, and turned away, saying, " Henceforth we may close that 
 map for half a century." His health now hourly declined. On the 23d of 
 January, 1806, at the age of forty-seven, he expired, exclaiming with his last 
 breath, "Alas, my country !" No sooner did the French Revolution break 
 out, than William Pitt, to use the words of Alison, " became the soul of all 
 the confederacies which were framed to oppose a barrier to the diffusion of 
 its principles. The steady friend of freedom, he was, on that very account, 
 the resolute opponent of democracy. It was not against France, but Repub- 
 lican France, that his hostility was directed." 
 
 Several medals were executed to commemorate the battle of Austerlitz. 
 One morning M. Denon came to Napoleon at St. Cloud with several medals 
 upon this subject. One represented on one side a head of Napoleon, and 
 upon the other an eagle holding fast a leopard. 
 
 " What does this mean ?" inquired the Emperor. 
 
 " Sire," replied M. Denon, " it is a French eagle strangling in its talons the 
 leopard, one of the emblems of the coat of arms of England." 
 
 Napoleon contemptuously threw down the coin, saying, " How dare you 
 tell me that the French eagle strangles the English leopard ! I can not send 
 out to sea the smallest fishing-boat that the English do not seize upon. It is, 
 in truth, the leopard that strangles the French eagle. Let this medal be in- 
 stantly destroyed, and never present any of the same kind to me again." 
 
 The generosity of Napoleon toward his army was as magnificent as was 
 his victory. He immediately adopted all the children of those who had 
 fallen. They were supported and educated at the expense of the state. 
 They all, as the children of the Emperor, were permitted to attach the name 
 of Napoleon to their own. To the widows of the generals he gave a pension 
 of $1200 dollars a year. The widows of the colonels and the majors re- 
 ceived $500 annually; those of captains, $250; those of lieutenants, $150; 
 while the widows of all the soldiers received a pension of $40. The wound- 
 ed were also all liberally rewarded. 
 
 Napoleon was in the habit, during his campaigns, of writing almost daily 
 to Josephine. These letters were often written upon a drum-head at his 
 night's bivouac, or upon the pommel of his saddle when the balls of the en"
 
 1805.] AUSTERLITZ. 485 
 
 emy were falling around him. These tokens of his love for Josephine were 
 very brief and so hastily written, that it required all Josephine's ingenuity to 
 decipher them. The following are from the letters which he thus wrote 
 during this campaign. They give us an insight to the heart of Napoleon. 
 These attentions, so delicate and so touching, prove that the majesty of 
 genius had not overshadowed in his character the graces of affection 
 
 "2d October, 1805, 10 o'clock A.M. 
 
 " I am still in good health. I start for Stuttgard, where I shall be to- 
 night. The great maneuvers commence. The armies of Wiirtemberg and 
 of Baden have united with mine. I am in a good position, and I love you. 
 
 " NAPOLEON." 
 
 " 12th October, 11 o'clock at night. 
 
 " My army has entered Munich. The enemy is beaten. Every thing an- 
 nounces the most short, successful, and brilliant campaign I have yet made. 
 I am very well. The weather is, however, frightful. I change my clothes 
 twice a day, it rains so incessantly. I love you, and embrace you. 
 
 " NAPOLEON." 
 
 19th October. 
 
 " I have been, my good Josephine, much fatigued. During all the days 
 of an entire week I have been drenched with rain, and my feet have been 
 nearly frozen. This has made me a little ill. To-day I have obtained some 
 repose. I have fulfilled my design. I have destroyed the Austrian army by 
 simple marches. I have taken 60,000 prisoners, 120 pieces of cannon, 90 
 flags, and more than 30 generals. I now go in pursuit of the Russians. 
 They are undone. I am content with my army. I have lost but 1500 men, 
 and of these two thirds are but slightly wounded. Adieu, my Josephine. A 
 thousand loving words to you." 
 
 " 3d November, 10 o'clock at night. 
 
 " I am in full march. The weather is very cold. The earth is covered 
 with a foot of snow. This is a little severe. Happily, our march is through 
 forests. I am pretty well. My affairs move very satisfactorily. My ene- 
 mies ought to be more anxious than I. I desire very much to hear from 
 you, and to learn that you are free from inquietude. Adieu, my love. I 
 must sleep." 
 
 " 15th November, 9 o'clock at night. 
 
 " I left Vienna two days ago, my love, a little fatigued. I have not yet 
 seen the city by day. I passed through it in the night. Almost all my 
 troops are beyond the Danube pursuing the Russians. Adieu, my Josephine. 
 The very moment it is possible, I shall send for you to come to me. A thou 
 sand loving words for you, NAPOLEON." 
 
 " 16th November. 
 " I have written for you to come immediately to Baden, and thence to
 
 486 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 Munich, by the way of Stuttgard. Bring with you the means of making 
 presents to the ladies and to the functionaries who may serve you. Be un- 
 assuming, but receive all homage. Every thing is due to you. You owe 
 nothing but courtesy. The Electress of Wiirtemberg is daughter of the 
 King of England. She is a lovely woman. Treat her with kindness, but 
 without affectation. I shall be most happy to see you the moment my af- 
 fairs will allow me to do so. I set out immediately for my advance guard. 
 The weather is frightful. It snows continually. As to the rest, my affairs 
 are prosperous. Adieu, my love. NAPOLEON." 
 
 " 3d December, 1805. 
 
 " I send Lebrun to you from the field of battle. I have beaten the Rus- 
 sian and Austrian armies commanded by the two emperors. I am a little 
 fatigued. I have bivouacked eight days in the open air, through nights se- 
 verely cold. I shall pass to-night in the chateau of Prince Kaunitz, where 
 I go to sleep for two or three hours. The Russian army is not only beaten, 
 but destroyed. I embrace you. NAPOLEON." 
 
 " December 5. 
 
 " I have concluded a truce. The Russians have implored it. The vic- 
 tory of Austerlitz is the most illustrious of all which I have gained. We 
 have taken 45 flags, 150 pieces of cannon, and 20 generals. More than 
 20,000 are slain. It is an awful spectacle. The Emperor Alexander is in 
 despair. I saw yesterday, at my bivouac, the Emperor of Germany. We 
 conversed for two hours, and agreed upon an immediate peace. The weather 
 is dreadful. Repose is again restored to the Continent. Let us hope that it 
 will extend throughout the world. The English will not be able to make 
 headway against us. I look forward, with great pleasure, to the moment 
 when I shall again see you. Adieu, my love. I am pretty well, and ' "~ 
 very desirous to embrace you." 
 
 " 10th December, 1805. 
 
 " It is long since I have heard any news from you. The brilliant fetes of 
 Baden, Stuttgard, and Munich cause the poor soldiers, drenched with rain, 
 and covered with blood and mire, to be forgotten. I set out immediately for 
 Vienna. The Russians are gone. They return to their own country thor- 
 oughly beaten and thoroughly humiliated. I desire intensely to return *o 
 you. Adieu, my love. NAPOLEON.' 
 
 The following letter conceals beneath the semblance of mirthfulness a 
 spirit wounded by apparent neglect. 
 
 " 19th December. 
 
 "August Empress ! Not one letter from you since your departure from 
 Strasburg. You have entered Baden, Stuttgard, and Munich without writ- 
 ing us one word. That is not very amiable nor very tender. I am still at 
 Brunn. The Russians have gone. I have a truce. Condescend, from the 
 summit of your grandeur, to occupy yourself a little with your slaves. 
 
 " NAPOLEON."
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 487 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 
 
 The Emperor on his Return from Austerlitz Letter to the Minister of Finance Napoleon's La- 
 bors for the Improvement of France Religious Character and Thoughts of the Emperor Depu- 
 tation from Genoa Its Annexation to France Conduct of Naples Insolence of the European 
 Kings Proclamation Dilemma Holland Cisalpine Republic The Government of Eugene 
 Piedmont Ambition of Napoleon Necessity o.f Allies for France Consciousness of the Em- 
 peror of the Uncertainty of his Position Confederation of the Rhine Attack on Spanish ships 
 Battle of Trafalgar Fox Difficulty of making Peace with England Death of Fox. 
 
 IT was nearly midnight when Napoleon, accompanied by Josephine, en- 
 tered the darkened streets of Paris on his return from Yienna. He drove 
 directly to the Tuileries, and ascended the stairs, with hasty strides, to his 
 cabinet. Without undressing, or even throwing himself upon a couch for a 
 moment of repose, he sent for the Minister of Finance. The whole of the 
 remainder of the night was passed in a rigid examination of the state of the 
 Bank of France. The eagle eye of the Emperor immediately penetrated 
 the labyrinth of confusion in which its concerns were involved. Writing 
 from the camp of Boulogne, in the midst of all the distractions of the prep- 
 arations for the march to Ulm and Austerlitz, Napoleon had thus addressed 
 his Minister of Finance : 
 
 " The paper of the bank is issued in many, perhaps a majority of the cases, 
 not on real capital, but on a delusive supposition of wealth. In one word, in 
 discounting after this manner, the bank is coining false money. So clearly 
 do I see the dangers of such a course, that, if necessary, I would stop the 
 pay of my soldiers rather than persevere in it. lam distressed beyond meas- 
 ure at the necessities of mty situation, which, by compelling me to live in 
 camps, and engaged in distant expeditions, withdraw my attention from what 
 would otherwise be the chief object of my anxiety, and the first wish of my 
 heart a good and solid organization of all which concerns the interest of 
 banks, manufactures, and commerce" 
 
 The next day, at eleven o'clock, the whole Council of Finance was assem- 
 bled. Napoleon kept them incessantly occupied during an uninterrupted 
 session of nine hours. Thus energetically, without allowing himself a mo- 
 ment for repose, he entered upon a series of labors unparalleled in the his- 
 tory of mankind. The mind of this extraordinary man was all interested in 
 constructing, not in destroying. He loved not the carnage of the battle- 
 field. He loved not the aspect of burning cities, or the desolating sweep of 
 contending armies. It was far more in accordance with his humane dispo- 
 sition, and his intellectual and refined taste, to labor in his cabinet in rear- 
 ing works of imperishable grandeur, than, hungry, cold, and weary, drenched 
 with rain, spattered with mud, toiling through the mire, and bivouacking upon 
 the drifting snow, to lead his armies to mutilation, blood, and death. Na-
 
 488 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XX^II. 
 
 poleon was a man. The groans of the dying were not music to his ear. As 
 he went, invariably, the messenger of mercy over the field of strife, when 
 the conflict was over, the aspect of the mangled, the dying, and the dead 
 was not a pleasing spectacle to his eyes. His foes compelled him, during 
 all his reign, to devote one half of his energies to repel their assaults. 
 
 Napoleon had again conquered peace with all the world, England alone 
 excepted. The government of England, notwithstanding the firm opposition 
 of a large portion of the people, still waged unrelenting war against the Re- 
 publican Empire. England was too intelligent to be deceived by words. 
 It mattered not whether Napoleon were called Consul or Emperor. The 
 principles of his government were still the same. He was the man of the 
 people. It was his mission to abase aristocratic usurpation, and to elevate 
 the people to equality of privileges and of rights. 
 
 Napoleon immediately made arrangements for the army to return by slow 
 and comfortable marches of twelve miles a day. He ordered the sick and 
 the wounded to be amply provided for during the winter, that they might be 
 brought back to France under the genial sun of spring. Officers were com- 
 manded to remain with them, to see that all their wants were fully supplied. 
 Never before or since has there been a general so attentive to his sick and 
 wounded soldiers. To this testimony there is not a dissentient voice. 
 
 In the midst of negotiations and military cares more vast and varied than 
 ever before occupied the mind of man, Napoleon devoted himself, with a 
 fondness amounting to a passion, to the creation of magnificent works of art 
 and of public utility. In those snatches of leisure left him by his banded 
 foes, he visited all parts of the capital and of his empire. Wherever he went, 
 some grand idea for moral, intellectual, or physical improvement suggested 
 itself to his mind. The foot-prints of the Emperor still remain all over Par- 
 is, and in the remotest provinces of France, enduring memorials of his phi- 
 lanthropy, his comprehensive wisdom, and his tireless energy. He founcj 
 St. Denis, the mausoleum of the ancient kings of France, in deplorable di- 
 lapidation. The venerable edifice was immediately and magnificently re- 
 paired. The beautiful church of St. Genevieve was crumbling to decay. 
 He restored it to more than its pristine splendor. 
 
 He reared the magnificent monument in the Place Vendome. The noble 
 obelisk of bronze, winding round whose shaft are displayed, in long basso- 
 relievo, the exploits of the campaigns of Ulm and Austerlitz, excites the ad- 
 miration of every beholder. The monument was consecrated to the Grand 
 Army, and was constructed of the cannon taken from the- enemy. Napoleon 
 had ever been contending for peace. In these eventful campaigns he had 
 secured peace for the Continent. He wished to have the statue of Peace sur- 
 mount the lofty summit of the pillar. But the nation gratefully decreed that 
 Napoleon, the hero-pacificator, in imperial costume, should crown the trophy 
 of his own genius. When the Allies, after desolating Europe for a quar- 
 ter of a century with blood, succeeded in driving Napoleon from his throne, 
 and reinstating the Bourbons, they hurled the statue of the Republican Em- 
 peror from its proud elevation. They could not, however, tear the image of 
 Napoleon from the heart of an adoring people. The Bourbons were again 
 driven into exile, and the statue of Napoleon replaced. No sacrilegious
 
 1806.] 
 
 ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 
 
 489 
 
 MONUMENT IN THE PLACE VENDOME. 
 
 hand will ever venture again rudely to touch that memorial of a nation's love 
 and homage. 
 
 He formed the plan, and commenced the work of uniting the Louvre and 
 the Tuileries in the most splendid palace the world has ever seen. And this 
 palace was to be consecrated, not to the licentious indulgence of kings and 
 nobles, but to the fine arts, for the benefit of the people. The magnificent 
 "Arch of Triumph" in the Carrousel, and the still more magnificent arch fac- 
 ing the Elysian Fields, were both commenced this year. Fifteen new fount- 
 ains were erected in the city. More extensive engines were created to raise 
 water from the Seine, that eighty fountains might play unceasingly night 
 and day. Magnificent quays were erected along the banks of the river. A 
 bridge in process of building was rapidly completed, and named the Bridge 
 of Austerlitz. A new bridge, subsequently called the Bridge of Jena, was 
 commenced. These were but a part of the works entered upon in the capi- 
 tal. The most distant departments of the empire shared his attention and 
 his munificence. Immense canals were constructed, conferring the benefits 
 of water communication upon all parts of France. National roads, upon 
 which the tourist now gazes with astonishment, were commenced. Others, 
 already laid out, were urged to their rapid completion. The world-renown-
 
 490 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXII 
 
 ed Pass of the Simplon, the road through the valley of the Moselle, the high- 
 way from Roanne to Lyons, the celebrated road from Nice to Genoa, the 
 roads over Mount Cenis and Mount Genevre, and along the banks of the 
 Rhine, and the astonishing works at Antwerp, will forever remain a memo- 
 rial of Bonaparte's insatiable desire to enrich and ennoble the country of 
 which he was the monarch. 
 
 These were the works in which he delighted ; this was the fame he wished 
 to rear for himself ; this was the immortality he coveted. His renown is 
 immortal. He has left upon the Continent an imprint of beneficence which 
 time can never efface. But Europe was in arms against him. To protect 
 his empire from hostile invasion while carrying on these great works, he was 
 compelled continually to support four hundred thousand men in battle array. 
 
 Napoleon was always a serious man, religiously inclined. In his youth- 
 ful years he kept himself entirely aloof not only from the dissipations, but 
 from the merriment of the camp. In his maturer life the soldiers gave him 
 the name of " Father Thoughtful." Though not established in the belief 
 that Christianity was of divine origin, he ever cherished a profound rever- 
 ence for the religion of the Bible. Amid the sneers of infidel Europe, he 
 with unvarying constancy affirmed that religion was essential to the welL 
 being of society, not merely as a police regulation, but as a necessity of the 
 human soul. When but twenty-four years of age, he encouraged his brother 
 Louis, who was then a lad but about fifteen years old, but conscientious and 
 devout, to partake of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Says Louis, " I 
 was then but a child. It was in consequence of his advice and care that I 
 partook of my first communion. He selected a worthy ecclesiastic to give 
 me the necessary instructions and preparations." When the schedule of 
 study for Madame Campan's female school was presented him, he found as 
 one regulation, "The young ladies shall attend prayers twice a week" He 
 immediately erased with his pen the words "twice a week," and substituted 
 " every day? 
 
 " Sire !" said General Bertrand to Napoleon one day, " you believe in God. 
 I also believe. But, after all, what is God ? What do we know of him ? 
 Have we seen him ?" 
 
 Napoleon replied, " What is God? Do I know what I believe? Very 
 well ! I will tell you. Answer me : How know you that a man has genius ? 
 Is it any thing you have seen ? Is it visible genius ? What then can you 
 believe of it ? We see the effect ; from the effect we pass to the cause. We 
 find it ; we affirm it ; we believe it. Is it not so ? Thus, upon the field of 
 battle, when the action commences, though we do not understand the plan of 
 attack, we admire the promptitude, the efficiency of the maneuvers, and ex- 
 claim, ' A man of genius /' When in the heat of the battle victory wavers, 
 why do you the first turn your eyes toward me ? Yes ! your lips call me. 
 From all parts we hear but one cry, ' The Emperor, where is he ? his orders /' 
 What means that cry ? It is the cry of instinct, of general faith in me in 
 my genius. 
 
 "Very well! I also have an instinct, a knowledge, a faith, a cry which 
 involuntarily escapes me. I reflect. I regard nature with her phenomena, 
 and I exclaim God! I admire and cry, There is a God!
 
 1806.J ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 491 
 
 " Since you believe in genius, tell me, tell me, I pray you, what gives to 
 the man of genius this invention, this inspiration, this glance of the eye pe- 
 culiar to man alone ? Answer me ! from whence does it come ? You can 
 not tell ! Is it not so ? Neither can I nor any one else. And still, this pe- 
 culiarity which characterizes certain individuals is a fact as evident, as posi- 
 tive as any other fact. But if there is such a difference in mind, there is 
 evidently a cause ; there is some one who has made that difference. It is 
 neither you nor me, and genius is but a word which teaches nothing of its 
 cause. That any person should say, They are the organs! Behold a sil- 
 liness fit for a medical student, but not for me. Do you understand?"* 
 
 Napoleon saw so many imperfections in the Catholic priesthood, that he 
 was unwilling to intrust the education of youth to ecclesiastics. Their de- 
 votion to the past, their hostility to all innovation and progress, incapacitated 
 them in his judgment to rouse and guide the youthful mind. He devoted, at 
 this time, very special attention to the education of the masses of the people. 
 He established a university to raise up a corps of teachers of high qualifica- 
 tions, who should hold distinguished rank in the state, and who should re- 
 ceive ample emolument. In all the schools religion was to be taught by 
 chaplains. 
 
 Such wefe the labors of Napoleon in Paris from January to July, 1806. 
 At the same time he w r as compelled to defend himself from England, who 
 was incessantly assailing France with all the power of her invincible fleet. 
 He was also conducting the most momentous negotiations with the various 
 nations of Europe. 
 
 The province of Genoa occupied the southern slope of the Apennines.! 
 It was about as large as Rhode Island, and contained 500,000 inhabitants. 
 Its population was thoroughly imbued with the principles of Republican 
 France. In the wars then desolating Europe, this Liliputian state was of 
 course powerless, unless sustained by some stronger arm. Its immediate 
 contiguity to France encouraged the desire for annexation. A deputation 
 from the Senate of Genoa visited Napoleon soliciting this favor. 
 
 " In regenerating the people of this country," said the deputation, " your 
 majesty has contracted the obligation to render it happy. But this can not 
 be done unless it is governed by your majesty's wisdom and valor. The 
 changes which have taken place around us have rendered our insulated situ- 
 ation a source of perpetual disquietude, and imperiously call for a union with 
 that France which you have covered with imperishable renown. Such is 
 the wish which' we are charged to lay at your majesty's feet. The reasons 
 on which it is founded prove sufficiently that it is not the result of any ex- 
 ternal suggestion, but the inevitable consequence of our actual situation." 
 
 When Napoleon entered Genoa in consummation of this union, he was re- 
 
 * Napoleon was exceedingly displeased with the impiety of Dr Antommarchi, a physician who 
 was sent to him while at St. Helena. " You physicians," said Napoleon to him one day, " are un- 
 believers, because you can not find the soul with your dissecting kmfe. Physicians are generally in- 
 fidels. It is not so with mathematicians; they are ordinarily devout. The name of God inces- 
 santly flowed from the pen of Lagrange." 
 
 t " At the demand of the Archbishop of Genoa and of the Senate of the city, that state was re- 
 united to the French Empire the 9th of June, 1805, and formed three departments." Histoire Pop- 
 ulaire de Napoleon, par M. Chauvct^p- 247.
 
 492 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 ceived with the most enthusiastic demonstrations of joy. The fetes arranged 
 by the exultant inhabitants on that memorable occasion surpassed any thing 
 which modern Italy had seen. The magistrates met Napoleon at the gates 
 of the city with the keys. 
 
 ANNEXATION OF GENOA. 
 
 " Genoa," said they, " named the Superb from its situation, is now still 
 more worthy of that name from its destination. It has thrown itself into the 
 arms of a hero. It therefore places its keys in the hands of one capable 
 above all others of maintaining and increasing that glory." 
 
 The city blazed with illuminations ; the roar of artillery shook the embat- 
 tled shores and frowning forts ; and fireworks, surpassing the imagined cre- 
 ations of fairy power, filled the whole heavens, as Genoa rejoiced over the 
 consummation of her nuptials with France. 
 
 The Kingdom of Naples, sometimes called the Kingdom of the Two Sici- 
 lies, contained a population of about eight millions. The government, al- 
 most an unlimited monarchy, was in the hands of a branch of the house of 
 Bourbon. The perfidious court had again and again sent its ships and its 
 armies to assail Napoleon. And yet, in the hour of victory, Napoleon had 
 ever treated the hostile government with singular magnanimity. When the 
 Emperor was more than a thousand miles from his capital, in the wilds of 
 Northern Germany, struggling with his banded foes upon the plains of Aus- 
 terlitz, the King of Naples thought it an inviting opportunity to attack him 
 in his rear. Without any provocation, inviting the English fleet into his 
 harbors, and joining his army, fifty thousand strong, with those of England, 
 Austria, and Russia, he fell upon France. Napoleon heard of this act of 
 treachery immediately after the battle of Austerlitz. He was extremely 
 exasperated.
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 493 
 
 The kings of Europe seemed to treat him as an outlaw, beyond the pale 
 of all honorable intercourse. The most solemn treaties with him were re- 
 garded as of no moment. They did every thing in their power to stir up 
 treason around his throne, and to fan in France the flame of civil war. They 
 cringed before his mighty genius as they met him on the field of battle, or in 
 the chamber of council, and yet were they ever ready to stab him in the 
 back the moment his face was turned. An independent nation of forty mill- 
 ions of people, with hardly a dissenting vote, had elected him its monarch. 
 The despots of Europe denied his right to the throne. They refused him 
 his title. They called him contemptuously Mr. Bonaparte* They resort- 
 ed to every mean subterfuge in their diplomacy to avoid the recognition of 
 his imperial dignity. They filled the world with the blackest libels against 
 his fair fame. They accused him of drunkenness, debauchery, murder, blood- 
 thirstiness, incest. They fed those who were constructing infernal machines, 
 and mingling poison, and sharpening daggers, to hunt him out of the world. 
 There is great moral sublimity in the dignity with which Napoleon encoun- 
 tered all this, and went straight on with his work. He had already spared 
 the Bourbons of Naples three times. He resolved to be their dupe no longer. 
 The following energetic proclamation to his army announced the merited 
 fate of this perfidious court : 
 
 " Soldiers ! For the last ten years I have done every thing in my power 
 to save the King of Naples. He has done every thing to destroy himself. 
 After the battles of Dego, Mondovi, and Lodi, he could oppose to me but a 
 feeble resistance. I relied upon the word of this prince, and was generous 
 toward him. When the second coalition was dissolved at Marengo, the King 
 of Naples, who had been the first to commence this unjust war, abandoned 
 by his allies, remained single-handed and defenseless. He implored me. I 
 pardoned him a second time. It is but a few months since you were at the 
 gates of Naples. I had sufficiently powerful reasons for suspecting the trea- 
 son in contemplation. I was still generous. I acknowledged the neutrality 
 of Naples. I ordered you to evacuate the kingdom. For the third time the 
 house of Naples was re-established and saved. Shall we forgive a fourth 
 time ? Shall we rely a fourth time on a court without faith, honor, or rea- 
 son ? No, no ! The dynasty of Naples has ceased to reign. Its existence 
 is incompatible with the honor of Europe, and the repose of my crown." 
 
 We presume that there are few readers who will condemn Napoleon for 
 this transaction. Yet Sir Archibald Alison comments upon it in the follow- 
 ing terms. For Napoleon to defend himself from the treachery of despots 
 and from the knives of assassins, the Allies ever considered an atrocious 
 crime. 
 
 " This extraordinary severity toward a monarch who was only meditating 
 hostilities against the French Emperor, and had certainly done less injury to 
 
 * Gustavus, King of Sweden, in a public note delivered to the French envoy at Stockholm, ex- 
 pressed his surprise at the " indecent and ridiculous insolence which Monsieur Napoleon Bonapartt 
 had permitted to be inserted in the Momteur." Alexander, in public documents, addressed him as 
 chief of the French government. And the British cabinet passed a solemn decree that the Emperor 
 Napoleon, while at St. Helena, should receive no other title than that of General Bonaparte. Gu- 
 tavus ever insisted that Napoleon was The Beast described in the book of Revelation. 
 
 VOL. II N
 
 494 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 his dominions than any European dynasty, was one of the most unjustifiable 
 acts of that relentless conqueror, and, at the same time, descriptive of that 
 mixture of caution and prudence by which his ambitious enterprises were 
 always regulated. Let the case be put as the French themselves stated it. 
 The embassador and cabinet of Naples, with the dagger at their throat, and 
 under the threat of immediate invasion, had agreed on the 21st of Septem- 
 ber to a treaty of neutrality, which was ratified by the court, under the like 
 menaces, on the 8th of October. The arrival of the Russian and English 
 squadron in the Bay of Naples six weeks afterward liberated them from 
 their apprehensions, and the cabinet was to violate the former treaty, and 
 join in the coalition against France. Such a departure from national faith 
 was dishonorable ; it was a fair ground for hostility, and might have justified 
 exactions of considerable magnitude ; but was it a sufficient reason for de- 
 thronement ? That is the point ; and if it is, what European dynasty has 
 not, fifty times over, justly provoked this severity ?"* 
 
 Immediately Napoleon wrote, in the following words, to his brother Jo- 
 seph : " My wish is, that in the first days of February you should enter the 
 kingdom of Naples, and that I should be informed, in the course of the 
 month, that my eagles hang over that capital. You will not make any sus- 
 pension of arms or capitulation. My intention is, that the Bourbons should 
 have ceased to reign in Naples. I wish to seat on the throne a prince of my 
 house ; you, in the first place, if that suits you ; another, if that does not suit 
 you."t 
 
 Joseph took an army and went to Naples. Upon his approach the En- 
 glish fled with the utmost precipitation, taking with them the royal family.^ 
 By thus ejecting the royal family of Naples, and placing the crown upon the 
 brow of his brother, Napoleon greatly exasperated the remaining sovereigns 
 of Europe, and added much to his embarrassments. But by leaving the 
 Bourbons on the throne, after such repeated acts of perfidy, he exposed him- 
 self to the peril of another treacherous assault whenever hostile Europe 
 should again rise in arms against him. Wisely he chose the least of two 
 evils. And now the idea became an established principle in the mind of 
 Napoleon, that as all the feudal kings of Europe were in heart banded against 
 him, and were ever watching for opportunities to assail him, he must 
 
 * Alison's History of Europe, vol. ii., p. 376. 
 
 t " The extremity of the Peninsula and Sicily compose the kingdom of Naples, the most power- 
 ful state in Italy, most like Rome in ignorance and barbarism, and still worse governed, if possible. 
 There reigned a Bourbon, a mild, imbecile prince, devoted to one kind of pursuit, fishing and field 
 sports. These occupations engrossed all his time. While he was engaged in them, the govern- 
 ment of his kingdom was abandoned to his wife, an Austrian princess, sister to the Queen of France. 
 This princess, a woman of capricious disposition, of licentious passions, having the Minister Acton 
 for her paramour, who was sold to the English, conducted the affairs of the kingdom in a senseless 
 manner. The English, whose policy it always was to gain a footing on the Continent by controll- 
 ing the petty states bordering upon its coasts, had endeavored to make themselves the patrons of 
 Naples as well as of Portugal and Holland. They excited the hatred of the queen against France, 
 and with that hatred infused the ambition to rule Italy." Thiers. 
 
 t " The brief reign of Joseph was a succession of benefits to a people who had been long de- 
 graded by a most oppressive despotism. He founded civil and military schools, some of which yet 
 exist overthrew feudal privileges suppressed the convents opened new roads caused the Laz- 
 zaroni of Naples to work and be paid drained marshes, and every where animated with new life 
 and hope a people long sunk in abject servitude." New York American.
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 495 
 
 strengthen his power by establishing thrones and sustaining governments 
 which should be occupied by his friends. It was a struggle, not only for his 
 political existence, but also for the dignity and the independence of the French 
 nation. 
 
 Holland was a low, marshy country, about the size of the State of Mary- 
 land. Two million and a half of inhabitants, protected from the sea by 
 dikes, cultivated its fields and worked its factories. Holland had followed 
 in the footsteps of France in the effort to obtain, by revolutionary violence, 
 deliverance from aristocratic usurpation. England, with her allies, fell upon 
 Holland as upon France. At one swoop she robbed her of her colonies, 
 swept her commerce from the seas, and held all her ports in close blockade. 
 Hostile armies invaded her territory. The nation, single-handed, was pow- 
 erless against such multitudinous foes. She appealed to France for aid. 
 The aid was furnished, and the allied hosts expelled. When France adopt- 
 ed monarchical forms of government, Holland decided to do the same. Hol- 
 land and France, mutually sympathizing, needed mutual support. Their 
 most intimate alliance seemed to be essential to their existence. Holland 
 therefore chose Louis Bonaparte for her king. Louis was an intelligent, 
 conscientious, and upright man. Even the voice of slander has not attempt- 
 ed to sully his fame. He won the enthusiastic love of his subjects. 
 
 The Cisalpine Republic had received the name of the Kingdom of Italy. 
 It was a small territory, about the size of the State of Maryland, containing 
 three million and a half of inhabitants. It was indebted to Napoleon for ex- 
 istence. Unaided by his arm, it could not for an hour have protected itself 
 from the assaults of Austria. In mid-winter, four hundred and fifty deputies 
 had crossed the Alps to implore the assistance of Napoleon in organizing 
 their government, and in defending them from the armed despotisms which 
 threatened their destruction. In the following words they had addressed 
 Napoleon : 
 
 " The Cisalpine Republic needs a support which will cause it to be re- 
 spected by the powers which have not yet recognized its existence. It ab- 
 solutely requires a man who, by the ascendant of his name and strength, may 
 give it the rank and consideration which it may not otherwise obtain. There- 
 fore General Bonaparte is requested to honor the Cisalpine Republic by 
 continuing to govern it, by blending the direction of its affairs with those of 
 France, so long as shall be necessary to unite all parts of its territory under 
 the same political institutions, and to cause it to be recognized by the pow- 
 ers of Europe." 
 
 At the earnest solicitation of the people, Napoleon afterward accepted the 
 crown, declaring Eugene to be his heir. On this occasion he said to the 
 French Senate : 
 
 "Powerful and great is the French Empire. Greater still is our moder- 
 ation. We have, in a manner, conquered Holland, Switzerland, Italy, Ger- 
 many. But in the midst of such unparalleled success we have listened only 
 to the counsels of moderation. Of so many conquered provinces we have 
 retained only the one which was necessary to maintain France in that rank 
 among nations which she has always enjoyed. The partition of Poland, the 
 provinces torn from Turkey, the conquest of India, and of almost all the
 
 496 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 European colonies, have turned the balance against us. To form a counter, 
 poise to such acquisitions, we must retain something. But we must keep 
 only what is useful and necessary. Great would have been the addition to 
 the wealth and the resources of our territory if we had united to them the 
 Italian Republic. But we gave it independence at Lyons. And now we 
 proceed a step further, and recognize its ultimate separation from the crown 
 of France, deferring only the execution of that project till it can be done 
 without danger to Italian independence." 
 
 The government of Eugene in Italy was popular in the extreme. The 
 Italians still look back upon the days of the Kingdom of Italy as the most 
 brilliant and the most prosperous of their modern history. The administra- 
 tion of the government by Napoleon is ever spoken of with admiration. 
 Eugene followed the maxims which he received from the sagacity and the 
 experience of the Emperor. "Unlike," says Alison, "the conquered states 
 of other European monarchies, the inhabitants of Lombardy felt the foreign 
 yoke only in the quickened circulation of wealth, the increased vent for in- 
 dustry, the wider field for exertion. Honors, dignities, and emoluments, all 
 were reserved for Italians. Hardly a magistrate or civil functionary was of 
 foreign birth. Every where great and useful undertakings were set on foot. 
 Splendid edifices ornamented the towns. Useful canals irrigated the fields." 
 
 The state of Piedmont, a province of Sardinia, was about as large as Mas- 
 sachusetts. It contained a population of one and a half million. The in- 
 habitants were overjoyed to escape from the iron despotism of Austrian rule. 
 Cordially sympathizing with the French in their political principles, they tu- 
 multuously joined them. The whole land blazed with illuminations, and was 
 vocal with rejoicings, as Piedmont was annexed to France. Napoleon was 
 of Italian parentage. He ever remained faithful to the souvenirs of his ori- 
 gin. The Italian language was his mother tongue, and the interests of Italy 
 were peculiarly near to his heart. 
 
 The Peninsula was divided up into innumerable petty dukedoms, princi- 
 palities, and kingdoms. None of these could be independent. They could 
 only exist by seeking shelter beneath the flag of Austria or France. It was 
 one of the fondest dreams of Napoleon's noble ambition to restore Italian 
 independence. He hoped, by his influence, to have been able to unite all 
 these feeble governments in one great kingdom, containing twenty millions 
 of inhabitants. Rome he would make its illustrious capital. He designed 
 to rescue the immortal city from the ruins with which it is encumbered ; to 
 protect its ancient monuments from the further ravages of decay, and to re- 
 store the city, as far as possible, to its ancient splendor. Napoleon had 
 gained such an influence over the Italian people, that he could, without much 
 difficulty, have carried this magnificent project into execution, were it not 
 for certain political considerations which arrested him. He wished for peace 
 with Europe. He wished, if possible, to conciliate the friendly feelings of 
 the surrounding monarchies toward the new institutions in France. 
 
 To appease Austria, he deemed it wise to leave her in possession of her 
 conquest of the ancient state of Venice as far as the Adige. Spain was pro- 
 pitiated by allowing her two princes to occupy the throne of Etruria. By 
 permitting the Pope to retain his secular power over the States of the Church,
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 497 
 
 he secured throughout Europe a religious interest in favor of France. The 
 Bourbons he had wished to leave undisturbed upon the throne of Naples, 
 notwithstanding reiterated acts of treachery against him. This would be a 
 pledge to Europe of his desire not to introduce violence and revolution into 
 other governments. The power was clearly in his hands. He could have 
 set all these considerations at defiance. So large a proportion of the popu- 
 lation of Italy had imbibed the principles of equality which the French Rev- 
 olution had originated, that they implored the permission of Napoleon to 
 drive their rulers from their thrones. Wherever the French armies appear- 
 ed, they were welcomed by a large portion of the people as friends and lib- 
 erators. But Napoleon did not deem it wise to spread through Europe the 
 flames of revolution, neither did he consider it his duty to allow the des- 
 pots of Europe to force back upon France a rejected and detested dynasty. 
 The various annexations and alliances to which we have above referred 
 took place at various times between 1802 and 1806.-" 
 
 Such, in the main, was the position of France at this period. " While 
 England," says Alison, "was extending its mighty arms over both hemi- 
 spheres, France was laying its iron grasp on the richest and most important 
 provinces of Europe. The strife could not be other than desperate between 
 two such powers." The difference between the two was simply this. En- 
 gland was conquering and annexing to her vast empire continents, islands, 
 and provinces all over the world: in the East Indies and in the West Indies, 
 in North America and in South America, in Europe, in Asia, in Africa ; in 
 the Atlantic Ocean, the Pacific Ocean, and the Indian Ocean ; in the Medi- 
 terranean Sea, and upon the shores of the Red Sea and of the Caspian. It 
 was her boast that upon the territories of Britannia the sun never ceased to 
 shine.* She had formed coalitions against France with Russia, Austria, Tur- 
 key, Prussia, Naples, Sweden, Spain, Portugal, and innumerable other petty 
 principalities and dukedoms. And yet this England, the undisputed mistress 
 of the sea, and more powerful upon land than imperial Rome in her meridian 
 grandeur, w r as filling the world with clamor against the insatiable ambition 
 of Napoleon. He had annexed to France, Genoa, the valleys of Piedmont, 
 and a few leagues of territory along the left banks of the Rhine, that that 
 noble river might be one of his barriers against invading hosts. He had also 
 strengthened his empire to resist its multitudinous foes, by forming strong 
 friendly alliances with the Kingdom of Italy, Bavaria, Switzerland, Holland, 
 and a few minor states. To call this the spirit of encroachment is an abuse 
 of language. It was merely putting a stronger lock upon his door as a nec- 
 essary protection against robbers. 
 
 There was a fatality attending Napoleon's career which he ever recog' 
 nized, and which no human wisdom could have averted. Aristocratic Eu- 
 rope was necessarily in arms against the Democratic Emperor. Had Na- 
 poleon neglected to fortify himself against aggression, by enlarging the 
 boundaries of France, and by forming friendly alliances, the coalesced des- 
 pots would have laughed him to scorn as they tore the crown from his brow. 
 But, on the other hand, by disseminating principles of equality, and organ- 
 
 * The population in India over whom England, by the energies of war, had extended her domin- 
 ion, is estimated by the London Times to be 150,000,000.
 
 498 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIL 
 
 izing his friends as barriers against his foes, he alarmed still more the mon- 
 archs around him, and roused them to still more desperate efforts for his de- 
 struction. The government of England can not be called a despotism. Next 
 to that of the United States, it is the most liberal and free of any upon the 
 globe. But the English oligarchy dreaded exceedingly the democratic prin- 
 ciples which had gained such an ascendency in France. Thousands of her 
 population, headed by many of the most eloquent members of Parliament, 
 were clamorous for popular reform. Ireland was on the eve of revolt. The 
 maritime supremacy of England was also imperiled should Napoleon, with 
 his almost superhuman genius, have free scope for the development of the 
 energies of France ; therefore liberty-loving England allowed herself to head 
 an alliance of despots against popular rights. 
 
 Combined Europe crushed Napoleon. And what is Europe now? It 
 contains but two classes the oppressors and the oppressed. "The day will 
 yet come," said Napoleon, "when the English will lament the victory of 
 Waterloo." Incomprehensible day ! Concurrence of unheard-of fatalities ! 
 Singular defeat, by which, notwithstanding the most fatal catastrophe, the 
 glory of the conquered has not suffered, nor the fame of the conqueror been 
 increased ! The memory of the one will survive his destruction. The mem- 
 ory of the other will perhaps be buried in his triumph. "When I heard," 
 said Robert Hall, " of the result of the battle of Waterloo, I felt that the 
 clock of the world had gone back six ages." 
 
 In this connection Napoleon remarked at St. Helena: "The English are 
 said to. traffic in every thing. Why, then, does she not sell liberty, for which 
 she might get a high price, and without any fear of exhausting her own 
 stock ? For example, what would not the poor Spaniards give her to free 
 them from the yoke to which they have again been subjected ? I am confi- 
 dent that they would willingly pay any price to recover their freedom. It 
 was I who inspired them with this sentiment ; and the error into which I 
 fell might at least be turned into good account by another government. As 
 to the Italians, I have planted in their hearts principles which can never be 
 rooted out. What can England do better than to promote and assist the 
 noble impulses of modern regeneration ? Sooner or later this regeneration 
 must be accomplished. Sovereigns and old aristocratic institutions may ex- 
 ert their efforts to oppose it, but in vain. They are dooming themselves to 
 the punishment of Sisyphus. Sooner or later some arm will tire of resist- 
 ance, and then the whole system will fall to nothing. Would it not be bet- 
 ter to yield with a good grace ? This was my intention. Why does En- 
 gland refuse to avail herself of the glory and advantage she might derive 
 from this course of proceeding ?" 
 
 Napoleon, fully conscious of the uncertainty of his position, wrote to Jo- 
 seph in Naples, urging him to erect a powerful fortress upon the sea-coast. 
 " Five or six millions a year," said he, " ought to be devoted for ten years 
 to this great creation, in such a manner that with each expenditure of six 
 millions a degree of strength should be gained, and so that, so early as the 
 second or third year, you might be able to shut yourself up in this vast for- 
 tress. Neither you nor I know what is to befall us in two, three, or four 
 years. Centuries are not for us. If you are energetic, you may hold out, in
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 499 
 
 such an asylum, long enough to defy the rigors of Fortune, and to await the 
 return of her favors." On another occasion, he remarked to some friends, 
 who had gathered around him in the Tuileries, when in the very meridian 
 of his power, "The vicissitudes of life are very great. It would not be 
 strange should my son yet have cause to deem himself very fortunate with 
 an income of twelve hundred dollars a year." 
 
 Napoleon was ever of the impression that the majority of the British peoi 
 pie were opposed to the war ; that it was maintained solely by the influence 
 and to promote the interests of the aristocracy. 
 
 " I would not have attempted to subject England to France," said he to 
 O'Meara. " I could not have united two nations so dissimilar. If I had 
 succeeded in my project, I would have abolished the monarchy and estab- 
 lished a republic, instead of the oligarchy by which you are governed. I 
 would have separated Ireland from England, and left them to themselves, 
 after having sown the seeds of republicanism in their morale. I would have 
 allowed the House of Commons to remain, but would have introduced a 
 great reform." "Would England," says Alison, "have remained true to 
 herself under the temptation to swerve produced by such means ? This is 
 a point- upon which no Briton would have entertained a doubt till within 
 these few years. But the manner in which the public mind has reeled from 
 the application of inferior stimulants since 1830, and the strong partiality to 
 French alliance which has recently grown up with the spread of Democratic 
 principles, has now suggested the painful doubt whether Napoleon did not 
 know us better than we knew ourselves, and whether we could have resist- 
 ed those methods of seduction which had proved fatal to the patriotism of 
 so many other people. The spirit of the nation, indeed, then ran high against 
 Gallic invasion ; unanimity unprecedented animated the British people. But, 
 strong as that feeling was, it is now doubtful whether it would not have been 
 supplanted, in a large portion of the nation at least, by a still stronger, and 
 if the sudden offer of all the glittering objects of Democratic ambition would 
 not have shaken the patriotism of a considerable portion of the British, as it 
 unquestionably would of the great bulk of the Irish people." *S 
 
 Sixteen princes, of various degrees of rank and power, occupying small 
 states in the valley of the Rhine, formed a league. The plan originated with 
 Napoleon. The states thus united took the name of the Confederation of 
 the Rhine. It was a compact somewhat resembling that of the " United 
 States," and embraced a population of about fourteen million. Napoleon 
 was elected Protector of the Confederation. Perfect liberty of conscience 
 was established through all the states, and they entered unitedly into an al- 
 liance with France, offensive and defensive. In case of war, France was to 
 furnish 200,000 men, and the Confederates 63,000. All disputes between 
 the states were to be settled by a congress composed of two bodies. When 
 this Confederation was formed to secure external and internal peace, Napo- 
 leon sent word to the King of Prussia " that he would see without pain, nay, 
 even with pleasure, Prussia ranging under her influence all the states of the 
 north of Germany, by means of a confederation similar to that of the Rhine." 
 
 Twelve years before these events, Spain had entered into a treaty with 
 France, by which she agreed to furnish France, in case of war, with an aux-
 
 500 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIL 
 
 iliary force, which was subsequently commuted into a subsidy of fifteen mill- 
 ion of dollars a year. England was very reasonably annoyed that this large 
 sum should be furnished her foe by r, nation professing neutrality. Spain 
 was in a dilemma. If she refused to fulfill the treaty, war with France 
 would be the inevitable consequence. If she continued to supply France 
 with money, she must expose herself to the broadsides of the British navy. 
 After many remonstrances. on the part of England, and denials, apologies, 
 and protestations on the part of Spain, England, without any declaration of 
 war, issued secret orders to her fleet to capture the merchant-ships of Spain, 
 wherever found. Four Spanish galleons, freighted with treasure, all unsus- 
 picious of danger, were approaching Cadiz. A squadron of four British ships 
 attacked them. One of the Spanish ships was blown up, and all on board, 
 two hundred and fifty in number, perished. The other three ships, their 
 decks slippery with blood, were captured. The treasure on board was over 
 ten million of dollars. Language can not do justice to this act. 
 
 This occurrence produced intense excitement throughout England. The 
 government, with much embarrassment, defended the measure as justifiable 
 and necessary. Fox, Lord Grenville, and vast numbers of the British peo- 
 ple, condemned the act as an indelible disgrace to the nation. Spain imme- 
 diately declared war against Great 
 Britain. The united fleets of France 
 and Spain, some thirty ships in num- 
 ber, were met by an equal squadron 
 of English ships off Cape Trafalgar. 
 It was the 21st of October, 1805, the 
 day after the capitulation of Ulm. A 
 bloody conflict ensued. The combined 
 fleet was entirely overthrown. Nine- 
 teen ships were taken ; seven escaped 
 into Cadiz so pierced and shattered 
 as to be perfectly unserviceable ; four 
 made way for the Straits, and were 
 captured a few days afterward. Thus 
 the fleets of France and Spain were in fact annihilated. England remained 
 the undisputed mistress of the seas. Napoleon could no longer hope to as- 
 sail her. He could only strive to ward off the blows which she continued 
 unceasingly to deal upon him. This led him more deeply to feel the neces- 
 sity of strengthening himself upon the Continent, as the wide world of water 
 was entirely in possession of his foes.* 
 
 The capitulation at Ulm and the victory of Austerlitz caused the defeat 
 of Trafalgar to be forgotten. The echoes of that terrific naval conflict died 
 away amid the solitudes of the ocean, while the resonance of the mighty 
 tread of Napoleon's armies vibrated through every capital upon the Conti- 
 
 * Nelson lost his life in this conflict. England gratefully conferred all possible honors upon his 
 memory. His brother was made an earl, with a pension of 30,000 dollars a year. Each of his sis- 
 ters received a gift of 50,000 dollars, and 500,000 dollars to purchase an estate. A public funeral 
 was decreed him, and a monument erected in St. Paul's Cathedral. " At Waterloo," says Alison, 
 " England fought for victory ; at Trafalgar, for existence." 
 
 BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.
 
 1806.] ANNEXATIONS AND ALLIANCES. 
 
 nent. William Pitt soon died, at the age of forty-seven. Public opinion in 
 England now imperiously called for Mr. Fox as prime minister. The king 
 was compelled to yield. Mr. Fox and Napoleon were friends mutual ad- 
 mirers. The masses of the British people were in favor of peace. The 
 powerful aristocracy, both of wealth and rank, were almost to a man in favor 
 of war. Napoleon was exceedingly gratified by this change, and was sair 
 guine in the hope of immediate peace. __>--' 
 
 Soon after the accession of Mr. Fox to power, a wretch presented himself 
 to him and offered to assassinate Napoleon. Mr. Fox indignantly ordered 
 the man to be seized and imprisoned, and wrote a noble letter to the French 
 government denouncing the odious project, and offering to place the man at 
 their disposal. This generous procedure, so different from that which Na- 
 poleon had been accustomed to receive from the British government, touched 
 the magnanimous heart of the Emperor. " There," he exclaimed, " I recog- 
 nize the principles of honor and virtue which have always animated Mr. Fox. 
 Thank him in my name. Tell him, whether the policy of his sovereign causes 
 us to continue much longer at war, or whether as speedy an end as the two 
 nations can desire is put to a quarrel useless to humanity, I rejoice at the 
 new character which, from this proceeding, the war has already taken. It 
 is an omen of what may be expected from a cabinet, of the principles of 
 which I am delighted to judge from those of Mr. Fox. He is one of the men 
 most fitted to feel in every thing what is excellent, what is truly great." M. 
 Talleyrand communicated these sentiments to the English minister. A re- 
 ply was immediately returned by Mr. Fox, in frank and cordial terms pro- 
 posing peace. Napoleon was delighted with the proposal. Most sincerely 
 he wished for reconciliation with Great Britain. Rejoiced at this overture, 
 he accepted it with the utmost cordiality. 
 
 But it was now extremely difficult to settle the conditions of peace. Na- 
 poleon was so powerful, that France would accede to any terms which her 
 Emperor should judge to be best ; but Mr. Fox was surrounded in Parliament 
 by an opposition of immense strength. The Tories wished for war. En- 
 gland had made enormous conquests of the colonies of France and her allies. 
 She wished to retain them all. France had made vast accessions to her 
 power upon the Continent. The English government insisted that she 
 should surrender all. England wished to be the great manufacturer of the 
 world, with all nations for her purchasers, and with the commerce of all 
 climes engrossed by her fleets. Napoleon, though most anxious for peace, 
 was not willing that France should become the vassal of England. He 
 deemed it a matter of the first moment that French manufactures should be 
 encouraged by protective duties. Under these circumstances, Napoleon said 
 to Mr. Fox, through M. Talleyrand, 
 
 " France will not dispute with England the conquests England has made. 
 Neither does France claim any thing more upon the Continent than what she 
 now has. It will, therefore, be easy to lay down the basis of a peace, if En- 
 gland has not inadmissible views relative to commercial interests. The Em- 
 peror is persuaded that the real cause of the rupture of the peace of Amiens 
 was no other than the refusal to conclude a commercial treaty. Be assured 
 that the Emperor, without refusing certain commercial advantages, if they
 
 502 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 are possible, will not admit of any treaty prejudicial to French industry, 
 which he means to protect by all duties and prohibitions which can favor its 
 development. He insists on having liberty to do at home all that he pleases, 
 all that is beneficial, without any rival nation having a right to find fault with 
 him." 
 
 It is cheering to contemplate the generous intercourse between these noble 
 men. Mr. Fox accompanied each dispatch with a private note, full of frank 
 and cordial friendship. M. Talleyrand, who was but the amanuensis of Na- 
 poleon, followed his example. It will be remembered that, at the commence- 
 ment of the war, the English captured all the French whom they could find 
 upon the sea. Napoleon, in retaliation, captured all the English whom he 
 could find upon the land. Many members of the highest families in England 
 were detained in France. Mr. Fox applied for the release of several of them 
 on parole. Napoleon immediately sent to him every one designated in the 
 list. Mr. Fox, in return for this magnanimity, released an equal number of 
 illustrious captives taken in the battle of Trafalgar.* 
 
 There was another serious difficulty in the way of peace. The King of 
 England was also King of Hanover. This kingdom, situated in the northern 
 part of Germany, occupied a territory about twice as large as the State of 
 Massachusetts, and embraced a million and a half of inhabitants. At the 
 commencement of the last coalition against France, Napoleon had taken it. 
 At the peace of Presburg, immediately after the battle of Austerlitz, Napo- 
 leon had allowed Prussia to take possession of the territory. English honor 
 demanded that Hanover should be restored. This appeared absolutely es- 
 sential to peace ; but Prussia grasped her rich booty with deathless tenacity. 
 Napoleon, however, meditated restoring Hanover to England, and conferring 
 upon Prussia some other provinces in requital. In the midst of this laby- 
 rinth of diplomacy, Fox was suddenly taken sick and died. The peace of 
 the world was entombed in his sepulchre. New influences gained strength 
 in the cabinet of St. James, and all hopes of peace were at an end. The 
 English ministers now presented all kinds of obstacles in the way of peace, 
 and the embassadors at Paris conducting the negotiations soon demanded 
 their passports. " There can be no doubt," says H. B. Ireland, " but that 
 the hopes of a new war indulged by the English cabinet constituted the 
 basis of those objections. This rupture was hailed at the London Stock Ex- 
 change with the most savage demonstrations of joy." 
 
 The death of Fox Napoleon ever deemed one of the greatest of calamities. 
 At St. Helena he said, " Half a dozen such men as Fox and Cornwallis would 
 be sufficient to establish the moral character of a nation. 
 
 " With such men I should always have agreed. We should soon have set- 
 tled our differences, and not only France would have been at peace with a 
 nation at bottom worthy of esteem, but we should have done great things to- 
 
 * A friend writes to me, " Sir Henry Halford, who was physician to George IV., in one of his 
 essays ' On some of the Results of the Successful Practice of Physic,' refers to Dr. Jenner, and the 
 honor and influence which he acquired by the discovery of the protective effect of vaccination, and 
 says, ' It is true that Bonaparte, in the plenitude of his power, accorded their freedom from bond- 
 age to no less than nine captives, severally, at the request of Dr. Jenner, a homage to the benevo- 
 lent author of so important a discovery.' I will add only one query : Would George IV. or George 
 III. have done "unh magnanimous acts!"
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 503 
 
 gether." Again he said, "Fame had informed me of his talents. I found 
 that he possessed a noble character, a good heart, liberal, generous, and en- 
 lightened views. I considered him an ornament to mankind, and was very 
 much attached to him. And again he remarked, " Certainly the death of 
 Fox was one of the fatalities of my career. Had his life been prolonged, af- 
 fairs would have taken a totally different turn. The cause of the people 
 would have triumphed, and we should have established a new order of things 
 in Europe."* 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 JENA AND AUERSTADT. 
 
 A new Coalition formed against France Remarks in the Moniteur The two antagonistic Forces 
 existing in Europe Letter to the King of Prussia Ascent of the Landgrafenberg Perfidy of 
 Spain Intercepted Dispatches Battles of Jena and Auerstadt Peril of the Prussian King 
 Amazing Victory of Napoleon Address to the Saxons The Duchess of Weimar Opinion of 
 Women Sword of Frederick the Great Letters to Josephine. 
 
 AND now England, Russia, and Prussia formed another coalition against 
 Napoleon. There was even no plausible pretext to be urged in extenuation 
 of the war. Napoleon was consecrating all his energies to the promotion of 
 the best interests of France. For the accomplishment of his noble purposes 
 he needed peace. In his vast conquests he had shown the most singular 
 moderation a moderation which ought to have put England, Russia, and 
 Prussia to the blush. To the following remarks in the Moniteur evidently 
 from the powerful pen of Napoleon Europe could make no reply but by the 
 charges of her squadrons and by the broadsides of her fleets. 
 
 " Why should hostilities arise between France and Russia ? Perfectly in- 
 dependent of each other, they are impotent to inflict evil, but all-powerful to 
 communicate benefits. If the Emperor of France exercises a great influence 
 in Italy, the Czar exerts a still greater influence over Turkey and Persia. 
 If the cabinet of Russia pretends to have a right to affix limits to the power 
 of France, without doubt it is equally disposed to allow the Emperor of the 
 French to prescribe the bounds beyond which Russia is not to pass. Russia 
 has partitioned Poland. Can she then complain that France possesses Bel- 
 gium and the left banks of the Rhine ? Russia has seized upon Crimea, the 
 Caucasus, and the northern provinces of Persia. Can she deny that the 
 right of self-preservation gives France a title to demand an equivalent in Eu- 
 
 * " While Mr. Pitt lived," says Hazlitt, " war was certain ; his death offered a bare chance of 
 peace. He had long been the mouthpiece of the war party, and the darling of that part of the ar- 
 istocracy who wished to subdue the popular spirit of English freedom to get the whole power of 
 the country into the hands of a few borough-mongers, and, of course, to crush and stifle the ex- 
 ample and the rising flame of liberty every where else. Engaged in a quarrel that was never to 
 have an end, and for an object that was to be kept in the background, it was necessary to have a 
 set of plausible excuses always ready. If we were at war, it was for ' the existence of social order* 
 If we did not make peace, it was because 'existing circumstances did not permit us.' 
 
 " While Fox held the reins, hopes continued to be entertained of peace, and Bonaparte, with 
 Talleyrand to assist him, strained every nerve to urge it forward, but at his death things reverted 
 to their old and natural course."
 
 504 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 rope ? Let every power begin by restoring the conquests which it has made 
 during the last fifty years. Let them re-establish Poland, restore Venice to 
 its Senate, Trinidad to Spain, Ceylon to Holland, the Crimea to the Porte, 
 the Caucasus and Georgia to Persia, the kingdom of Mysore to the sons of 
 Tippoo Saib, and the Mahratta States to their lawful owners, and then the 
 other powers may have some title to insist that France shall retire within 
 her ancient limits. It is the fashion to speak of the ambition of France. 
 Had she chosen to preserve her conquests, the half of Austria, the Venetian 
 States, the states of Holland and Switzerland, and the kingdom of Naples 
 would have been in her possession. The limits of France are, in reality, the 
 Adige and the Rhine. Has it passed either of these limits ? Had it fixed 
 on the Solza and the Drave, it would not have exceeded the bounds of its 
 conquest." 
 
 When Napoleon was endeavoring to surround General Mack at Ulm, it 
 was absolutely essential to the success of his enterprise that he should send 
 a few battalions across the little state of Anspach, which belonged to Prus- 
 sia. To Bernadotte, who had charge of this division, he wrote : 
 
 " You will traverse the territory of Anspach. Avoid resting there. Do 
 every thing in your power to conciliate the Prussians. Testify the greatest 
 possible regard for the interests of Prussia. In the mean time, pursue your 
 march with the utmost rapidity, alleging as an excuse the impossibility of 
 doing otherwise, which is really the fact." 
 
 At the same time, he dispatched the Grand Marshal Duroc to Berlin to ap- 
 prise the King of Prussia of the critical situation in which he was placed by 
 an attack from so formidable an alliance, without any previous declaration 
 of war ; to express his unfeigned regret at the necessity of marching some 
 troops over a portion of the Prussian territory ; and to excuse himself upon 
 the ground of absolute necessity alone. Though the king rather ungracious- 
 ly accepted the apology, the more warlike portion of the nation, headed by 
 their chivalric queen, loudly declared that this violation was an outrage which 
 could only be avenged by the sword. This was one of the grievances of 
 which Prussia now complained. 
 
 There were then, as now, in Europe two great antagonistic forces the 
 governors and the governed the aristocracy and the people. The triumph 
 of Napoleon was the triumph of popular rights. Alexander, young, ambi- 
 tious, and the monarch of the uncounted millions of Russia, was anxious to 
 wipe out the stain of Austerlitz. Prussia, proud of her past military glory, 
 and stimulated by an enthusiastic and romantic queen, resolved to measure 
 swords with the great conqueror. England, burdened with the grasp of two 
 hemispheres, reiterated her cry against "the insatiable ambition of Napo- 
 leon." 
 
 The armies of Prussia, nearly 200,000 strong, commenced their march 
 against France, and entered the heart of Saxony. Frederick William, the 
 King of Prussia, headed this army, and compelled the King of Saxony to 
 join the alliance. " Our cause," he said, " is the common cause of legiti- 
 mate kings, and all such must aid in the enterprise." Alexander, having 
 aroused anew his barbarian legions, was hastening by forced marches over 
 the wilds of Poland. Two hundred thousand men were in his train, to join
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 505 
 
 the invading host in their march upon Paris. England, with her omnipres- 
 ent and invincible fleet, was frowning along the shores of the Mediterranean 
 and of the Channel, raining down terrific blows upon every exposed point, 
 and striving, by her political influence and her gold, to unite new nations in 
 the formidable coalition. 
 
 With deep sorrow Napoleon beheld the rising of this new storm. He had 
 just completed an arduous campaign ; he had treated his enemies with sur- 
 passing magnanimity, and had hoped that a permanent peace was secured. 
 But no sooner was one coalition destroyed than another was formed. His 
 energetic spirit, however, was not one to yield to despondency. Throwing 
 off the dejection which for an hour oppressed him, with all his wonted power 
 and genius he roused himself for the new conflict. He wrote to his brothers 
 in Naples and in Holland, saying, 
 
 " Give yourselves no uneasiness. The present struggle will be speedily 
 terminated. Prussia and her allies, be they who they may, will be crushed. 
 And this time I will settle finally with Europe. 1 will put it out of the power 
 of my enemies to stir for ten years" 
 
 He shut himself up for forty-eight hours to form his plans and arrange the 
 details. He then for two days dictated, almost without intermission, nearly 
 two hundred letters. 
 
 All these letters are preserved. Through all time they will be admired as 
 models of the art of governing armies and empires. In six days the Impe- 
 rial Guard were sent from Paris to the Rhine. They traveled by post sixty 
 miles a day. It was nearly midnight on the 24th of September, 1806, when 
 Napoleon, accompanied by Josephine, entered his carriage at the Tuileries 
 to join the army. As in the last contest, he knew not " why he fought, or 
 what was required of him." He communicated a parting message to the 
 Senate, in which he said : 
 
 " In so just a war, which we have not provoked by any act, by any pre- 
 tense, the true cause of which it would be impossible to assign, and where 
 we only take arms to defend ourselves, we depend entirely upon the support 
 of the laws, and upon that of the people, whom circumstances call upon to 
 give fresh proofs of their devotion and courage." 
 
 In his first bulletin he wrote, " The Queen of Prussia is with the army, 
 dressed as an Amazon, bearing the uniform of her regiment of dragoons, writ- 
 ing twenty letters a day to spread the conflagration in all directions. We 
 seem to behold Armida in her madness setting fire to her own palace. Af- 
 ter her follow Prince Louis of Prussia, a prince full of bravery, hurried on 
 by the spirit of party, who flatters himself that he shall find great renown in 
 the vicissitudes of war. Following the example of these illustrious persons, 
 all the court cries ' To arms !' But when war shall have reached them with 
 all its horrors, all will seek to exculpate themselves from having been in- 
 strumental in bringing its thunder to the peaceful plains of the north." 
 
 At Mayence Napoleon parted with Josephine. Her tears for a moment 
 overcame him, and he yielded to those emotions of tenderness which are an 
 honor to the heart. He headed his army, utterly bewildered the Prussians 
 by his maneuvers, and in a few days threw his whole force into their rear, 
 cutting them off from all their supplies and from all possibility of retreat.
 
 506 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIIL 
 
 He was now sure of a decisive victory ; yet, to arrest, if possible, the effusion 
 of blood, he humanely wrote as follows to the King of Prussia : 
 
 " I am now in th,e heart of Saxony. Believe me, my strength is such that 
 your forces can not long balance the victory. But wherefore shed so much 
 blood? To what purpose? Why should we make our subjects slay each 
 other ? I do not prize a victory which is purchased by the lives of so many 
 of my children. If I were just commencing my military career, and if I had 
 any reason to fear the chances of war, this language would be wholly mis- 
 placed. Sire! your majesty will be vanquished. You will have compro- 
 mised the repose of your life and the existence of your subjects without the 
 shadow of a pretext. At present you are uninjured, and may treat with me 
 in a manner conformable with your rank. Before a month has passed you 
 will treat, but in a different position. I am aware that I may, in thus writ- 
 ing, irritate that sensibility which naturally belongs to every sovereign. But 
 circumstances demand that I should use no concealment. I implore your 
 majesty to view in this letter nothing but the desire I have to spare the effu- 
 sion of human blood. Sire, my brother, I pray God that he may have you 
 in his worthy and holy keeping. 
 
 " Your majesty's good brother, NAPOLEON." 
 
 To this letter no reply was returned. It was given to a Prussian officer, 
 but it is said that the King did not receive it until the morning of the 
 battle of Jena. 
 
 In two days, Napoleon, accompanying the advance guard of his army, met 
 the mighty host of the Prussians strongly fortified upon the fields of Jena 
 and Auerstadt. It was the evening of the thirteenth of October. A cloud- 
 less sun, filling the western sky with splendor, dazzled the eye with brilliance 
 as its rays were reflected from the armor of one hundred thousand men. 
 Eighteen thousand superb cavalry, with their burnished helmets and proud 
 caparisons, were drawn up upon the plain. Three hundred pieces of heavy 
 artillery were concentrated in a battery, whose destructive power imagina- 
 tion can hardly conceive. The advanced posts of the Prussians were sta- 
 tioned upon the Landgrafenberg, a high and steep hill, w r hose summit was 
 deemed inaccessible to artillery. Napoleon immediately drove them from 
 the hill and took possession. From its brow the whole lines of the Prussian 
 army could be descried, extending for many leagues. 
 
 The plain of Auerstadt, twelve miles distant, was however lost from the 
 view. Napoleon was not aware that a strong division of the Prussian army 
 occupied that position. The shades of night came on. The blaze from the 
 Prussian fires, dispersed over a space of eighteen miles, threw a brilliant 
 glow over the whole heavens. Couriers were immediately dispatched to 
 hasten on with all possible speed the battalions of the French army for the 
 decisive battle which the morning sun was to usher in. Napoleon was his 
 own engineer in surmounting the difficulties of dragging the cannon to the 
 summit of the Landgrafenberg. To encourage the men to herculean toil, 
 Napoleon, by the light of the lantern, worked with his own hands in blast- 
 ing the rock,<= and smoothing the way. With incredible enthusiasm, the sue-
 
 1806.] 
 
 JENA AND AUERSTADT. 
 
 507 
 
 cessive divisions of the French as they arrived engaged in overcoming those 
 obstacles which to the Prussians had appeared absolutely insurmountable. 
 Napoleon, having prepared the way, and aided in dragging one gun to the 
 summit, left his troops to do the rest. Through the long night they toiled 
 unceasingly, and before the morning dawned a formidable battery was brist- 
 ling from the heights. 
 
 ASCENT OF THE LANDGRAFENBERO. 
 
 As battalion after battalion arrived in the darkness, they took the positions 
 designated by their experienced chieftain, and threw themselves upon the 
 ground for sleep. Soult and Ney received orders to march all night, to be 
 prepared to arrest the retreat of the Prussians. Napoleon, having thus made 
 all his arrangements for the terrific conflict of the ensuing day, retired to his
 
 508 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIIL 
 
 tent about midnight, and calmly sat down to draw up a plan of study and of 
 discipline for Madame Campari's Female School* 
 
 Nothing can more strikingly show than this the peculiar organization of 
 this most extraordinary mind. There was no affectation in this effort. He 
 could, at any time, turn from one subject, however momentous that might 
 be, and consecrate all his energies to another, untroubled by a wandering 
 thought. All that he did for the internal improvement of France, he was 
 compelled to do in moments thus snatched from the toils of war. Combined 
 Europe would never allow him to lay aside the sword. "France," said 
 Napoleon, "needs nothing so much to promote her regeneration as good 
 mothers." His heart was deeply interested in promoting the prosperity and 
 happiness of France. To the sanguinary scenes of Jena and Auerstadt he 
 was reluctantly driven by the attacks of foes, who denounced him as a 
 usurper, and threatened to hurl him from his throne. 
 
 JENA AND AUERSTADT. 
 
 It was midnight. A girdle of flame, rising from the innumerable watch* 
 fires of the Prussian hosts, blazed along the horizon as far as the eye could 
 extend, almost encircling the troops of the Emperor. The cold winds of 
 approaching winter swept the bleak summit of the Landgrafenberg. Wrap- 
 ped in his cloak, he had thrown himself upon the ground, to share for an 
 hour the frigid bivouac of his soldiers. He was far from home. The fate 
 of his empire depended perhaps upon the struggle of the ensuing day. En- 
 gland, Russia, Prussia, the three most powerful monarchies upon the globe, 
 were banded against him. If defeated on the morrow, Austria, Sweden, and 
 all the minor monarchies would fall upon the Republican Emperor, and secure 
 his utter destruction. 
 
 In that gloomy hour, intercepted dispatches of the utmost importance were 
 
 * Count Pelet de Lozerne assigns this event to the eve of the battle of Austerlitz. In eithei 
 case, it alike illustrate! a well-known peculiarity in the character of Napoleon.
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 50g 
 
 placed in the hands of Napoleon. He roused himself from his slumber, and 
 read them by the light of the camp-fire. The Bourbons of Spain, admon- 
 ished by the defeat of Trafalgar, had decided that England would be for 
 them a safer ally than France. While professing cordial friendship for Na- 
 poleon, they were entering into secret alliance with England. Taking ad- 
 vantage of Napoleon's absence from France, and trusting that he would en- 
 counter defeat far away in the heart of Prussia, they were treacherously pre- 
 paring to cross the Pyrenees, and, in alliance with England, to attack him in 
 his rear. Napoleon certainly was not one of the meekest of men. The 
 perusal of these documents convinced him that he could enjoy no security 
 while the Bourbons sat upon the throne of Spain. They would avail them- 
 selves of every opportunity to attack him in the dark. As he folded up these 
 proofs of their perfidy, he calmly remarked, " The Bourbons of Spain shall 
 be replaced by princes of my own family." From that hour the doom of the 
 Spanish house of Bourbon was sealed. 
 
 Napoleon wrapped himself again in his cloak, threw himself upon the 
 ground with his feet toward the fire, and slept as serenely as if he were re- 
 posing upon the imperial couch of St. Cloud. 
 
 At about four o'clock in the morning he was again on horseback. A dense 
 fog enveloped the plains, shrouding with impenetrable obscurity the sleep- 
 ing hosts. Under cover of the darkness and the thick vapor, the French 
 army was ranged in battle array. Enthusiastic shouts of " Vive 1'Empereur !" 
 greeted Napoleon as he rode along their lines. The soldiers, benumbed with 
 cold, and shivering in their ranks, waited impatiently two hours for the sig- 
 nal of attack. At six o'clock the order to advance was given. In solid col- 
 umns, through the gray mist of the morning, the French pierced the Prussian 
 lines in every direction. 
 
 Then ensued a scene of horror which no pen can describe, which no im- 
 agination can conceive. For eight hours the battle raged as if demon with 
 demon contended the soldiers of Napoleon and the marshaled host trained 
 in the school of Frederick the Great ! It was indeed " Greek meeting 
 Greek." The ground was covered with the slain. The shrieks of the 
 wounded, trampled beneath the hoofs of charging cavalry, the shout of onset, 
 as the pursuers cut down and rode over the pursued, rose in hideous clamor 
 even above the ceaseless thunders of the battle. The victory wavered to 
 and fro. About midday the Prussian general felt that the victory was his. 
 He dispatched an order to one of his generals, 
 
 " Send all the force you can to the chief point of attack. At this moment 
 we beat the enemy at all points. My cavalry has captured some of his can- 
 non." A few hours later he sent the following almost frantic dispatch to his 
 reserve : 
 
 " Lose not a moment in advancing with your yet unbroken troops. Ar- 
 range your columns so that through their openings there may pass the broken 
 bands of the battle. Be ready to receive the charges of the enemy's cavalry, 
 which in the most furious manner rides on, overwhelms, and sabres the fugi- 
 tives, and has driven into one confused mass the infantry, cavalry, and ar- 
 tillery." 
 
 In the midst of this appalling scene, so graphically described, the Prussian 
 VOL. II. O
 
 510 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 reserve, twenty thousand strong, with firm tread and unbroken front, emerged 
 through the cloud of fugitives to stem the awful torrent. For a moment they 
 seemed to restore the battle. Napoleon stood upon the summit of the Land- 
 grafenberg, calm, serene, passionless, watching every portion of the extended 
 (field, and guiding the terrific elements of destruction. The Imperial Guard, 
 held in reserve, waited hour after hour, looking upon the carnage before them, 
 burning with intense zeal to share in the conflict. At last a young soldier, 1 
 in the excess of his almost delirious excitement, shouted, " Forward, for- 
 ward !" " How now ?" exclaimed Napoleon, sternly, as he turned his eye to- 
 ward him. " What beardless boy is this, who ventures to counsel his Em- 
 peror ? Let him wait till he has commanded in thirty pitched battles before 
 he proffers his advice !" 
 
 NAPOLEON AND HIS OUAHD. 
 
 It was now nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. Napoleon saw that the 
 decisive moment had arrived. He ordered Murat, with twelve thousand 
 horse, fresh and in the finest array, to charge the bewildered, wavering, bleed- 
 ing host, and complete the victory. The clatter of iron hoofs was heard 
 resounding like the roar of an earthquake as this terrible and irresistible 
 mass swept with overwhelming destruction upon the plain. The work was 
 done. The Prussian army was destroyed. Humanity vails her weeping 
 eyes from the appalling scene which ensued. It was no longer a battle, but 
 a massacre. All order was lost, as the whole army, like an inundation, 
 rushed from the field. The batteries of Napoleon plowed their ranks in 
 every direction. The musketry of Napoleon's solid columns pierced them 
 through and through with a pitiless storm of bullets. Twelve thousand 
 horsemen, mounted on powerful and unwearied steeds, rode over and tram- 
 pled down the confused mass, and their sabres dripped with blood. The
 
 JENA AND AUERSTAUT. 
 
 511 
 
 1806. J 
 
 wretched victims of war, in their frantic attempts to escape, found their re- 
 treat every where cut off by the terrible genius of the conqueror. They 
 were headed here and there, and driven back upon themselves in refluent 
 waves of blood and destruction. 
 
 CAVALRY CHARGE. 
 
 While this scene was transpiring upon the plains of Jena, the Prussians 
 were encountering a similar disaster upon the field of Auerstadt, but twelve 
 miles distant. As the fugitives of both armies met in their flight and were 
 entangled in the crowded roads, while bullets, and grape-shot, and cannon- 
 balls, and bomb-shells were falling like hailstones and thunderbolts upon 
 them, consternation unutterable seized all hearts. In wild dismay they dis-
 
 512 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [C H AP. XXXIII. 
 
 banded, and, throwing down their arms and forsaking their guns, their horses, 
 and their ammunition wagons, they fled, a rabble rout, across the fields, with- 
 out direction and without a rallying point. But Murat, with his twelve 
 thousand horsemen, was in the midst of them, and their mangled corpses 
 strewed the plain. 
 
 Darkness came. It brought no relief to the vanquished. The pitiless 
 pursuit was uninterrupted. Not one moment was allow r ed the foe to rally 
 or to rest. In every direction the fugitives found the divisions of Napoleon 
 before them. The king himself narrowly escaped being taken prisoner dur- 
 ing the tumult and the horror of that disastrous rout. He had fled in the 
 midst of the wreck of his army from the field of Auerstadt. Accompanied 
 by a few companions on horseback, he leaped hedges and fences, and, in the 
 gloom of night, plunged through field and forest. It was five o'clock in the 
 morning before he succeeded, by circuitous routes and through by-paths, in 
 reaching a place of safety. 
 
 The Prussians lost, during this disastrous day, twenty thousand in killed 
 and wounded, and twenty thousand were taken prisoners. Napoleon, ac- 
 cording to his custom, having dispatched his various generals in pursuit of 
 the vanquished, passed most of the night upon the field of battle, personally 
 superintending the care of the wounded. With his own hand he held the 
 cup of water to their lips, and soothed their dying agonies with his sympathy. 
 With his iron firmness he united a heart of great tenderness No possible 
 efforts were spared to promote their comfort. He sent Duroc in the morn- 
 ing to the crowded hospitals of Jena, to convey his sympathy to every man 
 individually of the wounded there, to distribute money to those who needed 
 it, and to assure all of munificent rewards. As the letter of the Emperor 
 was read to these unfortunate men, forgetting their sufferings, they shouted 
 " Vive 1'Empereur !" Mangled and bleeding, they expressed the desire to 
 recover that they might again devote their lives to him. 
 
 Napoleon, with his accustomed magnanimity, ever attributing great praise 
 to his officers and soldiers, most signally rewarded Davoust for his heroism 
 at Auerstadt. In his official account of the battle, he stated, 
 
 " On our right the corps of Marshal Davoust performed prodigies. Not 
 only did he keep the enemy in check, but pursued the bulk of his forces over 
 a space of three leagues. That marshal has displayed alike the distinguish- 
 ed bravery and firmness of character which are the first qualities of a soldier." 
 
 For his dauntless intrepidity on this occasion he created him Duke of 
 Auerstadt. To honor him still more, he appointed him to enter first the 
 Prussian capital, thus giving him precedence in the sight of the whole army. 
 Two weeks afterward he called his officers around him, and addressed them 
 '*n the highest terms of respect and admiration. Davoust stepped forward 
 and said, " Sire ! the soldiers of the third corps will always be to you what 
 the tenth legion was to Caesar." 
 
 Immediately Napoleon took measures for following up his victory with 
 that activity and skill which no other captain has ever equaled. In less than 
 fourteen days every remnant of the Prussian army was taken, and all the 
 fortresses of Prussia were in the hands of the French. The fugitive king, 
 with a few companions, had fled to the confines of Russia, there to await the
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 5^3 
 
 approach of the armies of Alexander. Prussia was struck as by a thunder- 
 bolt. Never before in the history of the world was such a power so speed- 
 ily and so utterly annihilated. It was but one month after Napoleon had left 
 Paris, and the work was all done an army of two hundred thousand men 
 killed, taken prisoners, or dispersed innumerable fortresses, which had been 
 deemed impregnable, and upon which had been lavished the wealth of ages, 
 had been compelled to capitulate, and Napoleon was reposing at Berlin in 
 the palace of the Prussian king. Europe heard the tidings with amazement 
 and dismay. It seemed more like the unnatural fiction of an Arabian tale 
 than like historic verity. " In assailing this man," said the Emperor Alex- 
 ander, " we are but children attacking a giant." 
 
 The King of Saxony had been compelled to join Prussia against France. 
 In these wars of Europe, sad is the fate of the minor powers. They must 
 unite with one party or the other. Napoleon had taken a large number of 
 Saxon prisoners. The day after the great battle of Jena, he assembled the 
 captive officers in one of the halls of the University at Jena. In frank and 
 conciliating words, he thus addressed them : 
 
 " I know not why I am at war with your sovereign. He is a wise, pacific 
 prince, deserving of respect. I wish to see your country rescued from its 
 humiliating dependence upon Prussia. Why should the Saxons and the 
 French, with no motives for hostility, fight against each other ? I am ready, 
 on my part, to give a pledge of my amicable disposition by setting you all 
 at liberty, and by sparing Saxony. All I require of you is your promise no 
 more to bear arms against France." 
 
 The Saxon officers were seized with admiration as they listened to a prop- 
 osition so friendly and generous from the lips of this extraordinary man. By 
 acclamation they bound themselves to serve against him no more. They 
 set out for Dresden, declaring that in three days they would bring back the 
 friendship of their sovereign. 
 
 The Elector of Hesse was one of the vilest of men, and one of the most 
 absolute and unrelenting of despots. He had an army of 32,000 men. He 
 had done every thing in his power to provoke the war, and was devoted to 
 the English, by whom he was despised. Alexander, with nearly 200,000 
 chosen troops, was pressing down through the plains of Poland, to try his 
 strength again with the armies of France. Napoleon resolved to meet the 
 Czar at the half way. It was not safe for him to leave in his rear so form- 
 idable a force in the hands of this treacherous prince. Marshal Mortier 
 was charged to declare that the Elector of Hesse had ceased to reign, to 
 take possession of his dominions in the name of France, and to disband his 
 army. 
 
 The Grand Duke of Weimar had command of a division of the Prussian 
 army. His wife was sister of the Emperor Alexander She had contributed 
 all her influence to instigate the war. Napoleon entered Weimar. It was 
 a refined and intellectual city, the Athens of modern Germany, and honored 
 by the residence of Goethe, Schiller, and Wieland. Contending armies, in 
 frightful clamor and carnage, had surged through its streets, as pursuers and 
 pursued had rushed pell-mell in at its gates from the dreadful fields of Jena 
 and Auerstadt. The houses were pierced and shattered by shells and balls,
 
 514 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [C H AP. XXXIII. 
 
 and the pavements were slippery with blood. The Grand Duchess, greatly 
 agitated, approached Napoleon to implore his clemency. 
 
 " You now see, madame," Napoleon coolly replied, " what war is." 
 
 This was his only vengeance. He treated his female foe with the great- 
 est courtesy, expressed no displeasure at the conduct of her husband, and 
 ordered especial attention to be paid to the wounded Prussians with which 
 the city was filled. He munificently rewarded a Catholic priest for his un- 
 wearied attentions to the bleeding Prussians. 
 
 On the 28th of October Napoleon made a triumphal entry into Berlin, and 
 established himself in the king's palace. Prussia had provoked the war. By 
 the right of conquest, Prussia now belonged to Napoleon. With character- 
 istic delicacy, he would allow no one to occupy the private apartments of the 
 queen. She had fled in the utmost haste, leaving all her letters and the mys- 
 teries of a lady's boudoir exposed. He, however, in his bulletins, spoke with 
 great severity of the queen. She had exerted all her powers to rouse the 
 nation to war. On horseback, she placed herself at the head of the troops, 
 and fanned to the highest pitch, by her beauty, her talents, and her lofty 
 spirit, the flame of military enthusiasm. His sarcasms on queens who med- 
 dle in affairs of state, and who, by their ignorance, expose their husbands to 
 frightful disasters, and their country to the horrible ravages of war, were 
 generally thought ungenerous toward one so utterly prostrate. Napoleon, 
 indignant in view of the terrible scene of carnage and woe which her vanity 
 had caused, reproached her in one of his bulletins without mercy. Jose- 
 phine, in the kindness of her heart, wrote to him in terms of remonstrance. 
 Napoleon thus replied : 
 
 " Nov 6, 1806, 9 o'clock P.M. 
 
 " I have received your letter, in which, it seems, you reproach me for 
 speaking ill of women. True it is, that above all things I dislike female in- 
 triguers. I have been accustomed to kind, gentle, conciliatory women. 
 Such I love, and if they have spoiled me, it is not my fault, but yours. How- 
 ever, you will see that I have acted indulgently toward one sensible and de- 
 serving woman. I allude to Madame Hatzfeld. When I showed her her 
 husband's letter, she burst into tears ; and in a tone of the most exquisite 
 grief and candor, exclaimed, ' It is indeed his writing !' This was too much. 
 It went to my heart. I said, 'Well, madame, throw the letter into the fire, 
 and then I shall have no proof against your husband.' She burned the let- 
 ter, and was restored to happiness. Her husband is now safe. Two hours 
 later, and he would have been lost. You see, therefore, that I like women 
 who are feminine, unaffected, and amiable, for they alone resemble you. 
 Adieu, my love. I am very well. NAPOLEON." 
 
 The occurrence to which Napoleon refers was this. The Prince of Hatz- 
 feld was governor of Berlin. He had surrendered the city to Napoleon, and 
 promised submission. An intercepted letter proved that he, under cover of 
 this assumed friendship, was acting as a spy, and communicating to the King 
 of Prussia every thing of importance that was transpiring in Berlin. He had 
 given his oath that he would attempt nothing against the French army, and 
 would attend solely to the quiet, safety, and welfare of the capital. The
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 515 
 
 prince was arrested, and ordered to appear before a court-martial. In two 
 hours he would have been shot. 
 
 His wife, in a delirium of terror, threw herself in tears before Napoleon, 
 as he alighted from his horse at the gate of the palace. Napoleon was a 
 tender-hearted man. " I never," said he, " could resist a woman's tears." 
 Deeply touched by her distress, he conducted her to an apartment. A hot 
 fire was glowing in the grate. Napoleon took the intercepted letter, and, 
 handing it to her, said, " Madame, is not that the handwriting of your hus- 
 band ?" Trembling and confounded, she confessed that it was. " It is now 
 in your hands," said Napoleon ; " throw it into the fire, and there will no 
 longer remain any evidence against him." The lady, half dead with confu- 
 sion and terror, knew not what to do. Napoleon took the paper and placed 
 it upon the fire. As it disappeared in smoke and flame, he said to the prin- 
 cess, "Your husband is now safe. There is no proof left which can lead to 
 his conviction." This act of clemency has ever been regarded as a signal 
 evidence of the goodness of Napoleon's heart. The safety of his army 
 seemed to require that something should be done to intimidate the magis- 
 trates of the several towns, who were also revealing the secrets of his opera- 
 tions to the enemy. 
 
 Napoleon went to Potsdam to visit the tomb of Frederick the Great, where 
 the Emperor of Eussia and the King of Prussia had, but a year before, taken 
 their solemn and romantic oath. He seemed deeply impressed with solem- 
 nity as he stood by the remains of this man of heroic energy and of iron 
 soul. For a time not a word was uttered. The sword of the Prussian mon- 
 arch was suspended there. Napoleon took it down, examined it very care- 
 fully, and then turning thoughtfully to General Rapp, said, 
 
 " Did you know that the Spanish embassador presented me with the sword 
 of Francis I. ? The Persian embassador also gave me a sabre which be- 
 longed to Gengis-Khan. 1 would not exchange this sword of Frederick for 
 four millions of dollars. I will send it to the governor of the Invalides. The 
 old soldiers there will regard with religious reverence a trophy which has be- 
 longed to the most illustrious captain of whom history makes any mention." 
 
 General Rapp ventured to reply, " Were I in your place, I should not be 
 willing to part with this sword. I should keep it for myself." 
 
 Napoleon glanced at his aid a very peculiar look, half reproachful, half 
 comical, and gently pinching his ear, said, "Have I not then a sword of my 
 own, Mr. Giver of Advice ?" 
 
 In 1757, the armies of France had been signally defeated upon the plain 
 of Rosbach by the Prussians. The Prussian government had erected a 
 monument commemorative of the victory. Napoleon, passing over the field, 
 turned from his course to see the monument. To his surprise, he found it a 
 very insignificant affair. The inscription on the soft stone had been entirely 
 effaced by the weather. The obelisk was hardly more imposing than a 
 French milestone. In perfect silence, he contemplated it for some time, 
 walking slowly around it, his arms folded upon his breast, and then said, 
 " This is contemptible this is contemptible." Just then a division of the 
 army made its appearance. " Take that stone," said he, to a company of 
 sappers, " place it upon a cart, and send it to Paris. It will require but a mo-
 
 516 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON AT THE TOMB OF FREDERICK THE GREAT. 
 
 ment to remove it." Then mounting his horse, he galloped away. For 
 hoth of these acts Napoleon has been severely censured. It is not an easy 
 question to decide what are the lawful trophies of war. 
 
 When Napoleon left the capital of Austria, on his return to France after 
 the campaign of Austerlitz, he thus addressed the citizens of Vienna in a 
 final adieu : " In leaving you, receive, as a present, evincing my esteem, 
 your arsenal complete, which the laws of war had rendered my property. 
 Use it in the maintenance of order. You must attribute all the ills you have 
 suffered to the mishaps inseparable from war. All the improvements which 
 my army may have brought into your country you owe to the esteem which 
 you have merited." 
 
 Napoleon, in a month, had overturned the Prussian monarchy, destroyed 
 its armies, and conquered its territory. The cabinets and the aristocracies 
 of Europe were overwhelmed with consternation. Napoleon, the child of 
 the Revolution, and the propagator of the doctrine of equal rights to prince 
 and peasant, was humbling into the dust the proudest monarchies. Every 
 private soldier in the French army felt that all the avenues of wealth, of in- 
 fluence, of rank were open before him. This thought nerved his arm and
 
 1806.] JENA AND AUERSTADT. 517 
 
 inspired his heart. France had imbibed the unalterable conviction, which it 
 retains to the present day, that Napoleon was the great friend of the people, 
 their advocate and the firm defender of their rights. After the battle of 
 Jena, Napoleon issued a glowing proclamation to the army, in which he ex- 
 tolled in the loftiest terms their heroism, their intrepidity, and their endur- 
 ance of the most exhausting fatigue. He concluded in the following words: 
 " Soldiers ! I love you with the same intensity of affection which you have 
 ever manifested toward me." 
 
 Lannes, in a dispatch to the Emperor, wrote, "Yesterday I read your 
 majesty's proclamation at the head of the troops. The concluding words 
 deeply touched the hearts of the soldiers. It is impossible for me to tell 
 your majesty how much you are beloved by these brave men. In truth, nev- 
 er was lover so fond of his mistress as they are of your person." 
 
 The Prussians were fully aware of the tremendous power with which the 
 principles of equality invested the French soldier. One of the Prussian offi- 
 cers wrote to his family, in a letter which was intercepted, " The French, in 
 the fire, become supernatural beings. They are urged on by an inexpressi- 
 ble ardor, not a trace of which is to be discovered in our soldiers. What 
 can be done with peasants who are led into battle by nobles, to encounter 
 every peril, and yet to have no share in the honors or rewards ?" 
 
 The King of Prussia himself, while a fugitive in those wilds of Poland 
 which, in banditti alliance with Russia and Austria, he had infamously an- 
 nexed to his kingdom, found that he could not contend successfully with 
 France without introducing equality in the ranks of his army also. Thus 
 liberal ideas were propagated wherever the armies of Napoleon appeared. 
 In every country in Europe, the Emperor of France was regarded by demo- 
 crat and aristocrat alike as the friend of the people. 
 
 During these stormy scenes, Napoleon, in the heart of Prussia, conceived 
 the design of erecting the magnificent temple of the Madeleine. It was to 
 be a memorial of the gratitude of the Emperor, and was to bear upon its 
 front the inscription, " The Emperor Napoleon to the Soldiers of the Great 
 Army" On marble tablets there were to be inscribed the names of all the 
 officers, and of every soldier who had been present at the great events of 
 Ulm, Austerlitz, and Jena. The names of those who had fallen in those 
 battles were to be inscribed upon tablets of gold. 
 
 To the Minister of the Interior he wrote from Posen, dated December 6, 
 1806 : " Literature has need of encouragement. Propose to me some means 
 for giving an impulse to all the different branches of belles-lettres which have 
 in all times shed lustre upon the nation." 
 
 In the midst of the enormous cares of this extraordinary campaign, Napo- 
 leon found time to write, almost every day, a few lines to Josephine. A few 
 of these letters will be read with interest : 
 
 " Bamberg, Oct. 7, 1806. 
 
 "I set out this evening, love, for Cronach. My army is in full march. 
 Every thing is prosperous. My health is perfect. I have received but one 
 letter from you. I have received one from Eugene and Hortense. Adieu. 
 A thousand kisses, and good health. NAPOLEON."
 
 518 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 " Gera, Oct. 13, 2 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 "I am at Gera, my dear friend. My affairs are prosperous every thing 
 as I could wish. In a few days, with the aid of God, matters will take, I 
 think, a terrible turn for the poor King of Prussia. I pity him, personally, 
 for he is a worthy man. The queen is at Erfurt with the king. If she wish- 
 es to see a battle, she will have that cruel pleasure. I am very well. I 
 have gained flesh since my departure ; nevertheless, I travel every day from 
 sixty to seventy five miles, on horseback, in carriages, and in every other 
 way. I retire at eight o'clock, and rise at midnight. I often think that you 
 have not yet retired. Wholly thine, NAPOLEON." 
 
 "Jena, Oct. 15, 3 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " My love ! I have maneuvered successfully agairst the Prussians. Yes- 
 terday I gained a great victory. There were 150,000 men. I have taken 
 20,000 prisoners ; also 100 pieces of cannon, and many flags. I was near 
 the King of Prussia, and just failed taking him and the queen. For two 
 days and nights I have been in the field I am wonderfully well. Adieu, 
 my love ! Take care of yourself, and love me. If Hortense is with you, 
 give her a kiss, as also one to Napoleon, and to the little one. 
 
 " NAPOLEON." 
 
 " Weimar, Oct. 16, 5 o'clock in the evening. 
 
 " M. Talleyrand will show you the bulletin, my dear friend. You will 
 there see my success. Every thing has transpired as I had calculated. 
 Never was an army more effectually beaten and more entirely destroyed. I 
 have only time to say that I am well, and that I grow fat upon fatigue, bi- 
 vouacs, and sleeplessness. Adieu, my dear friend. A thousand loving 
 words to Hortense, and to the grand Monsieur Napoleon. Wholly thine, 
 
 "NAPOLEON." 
 
 " Nov. 1 , 2 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " Talleyrand has arrived, and tells me, my love, that you do nothing but 
 weep. What do you wish, thpn ? You have your daughter, grandchildren, 
 and good news. Surely this is enough to make one contented and happy. 
 The weather is superb. Not a drop of rain has yet fallen, during the cam- 
 paign. I am very well, and every thing is prosperous. Adieu, my love! I 
 have received a letter from Monsieur Napoleon. I think Hortense must 
 have written it. A thousand kind things to all. NAPOLEON." 
 
 The little Napoleon to whom the Emperor so often alludes was the eldest 
 son of Louis and Hortense, and brother of the present Emperor of France. 
 He was an unusually bright and promising boy, and a great favorite of his 
 illustrious grandfather. Napoleon had decided to adopt him as his heir, and 
 all thoughts of divorce were now laid aside.
 
 1806.J THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 519 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 
 
 Unavailing Appeal of Napoleon Paper Blockade Report of the French Minister The Berlin 
 Decree Retaliatory Measures of France and England Testimony of Alison Proclamation to 
 the desponding Soldiers Message to the Senate Petitions of the Poles Embarrassing Situa- 
 tion of Napoleon Encampment on the Vistula Care for the Soldiers Battle of Eylau The 
 old Grenadier Touching Anecdotes Letters to Josephine. 
 
 ON the fields of Jena and Auerstadt the Prussian monarchy was destroy- 
 ed. Frederick William had nothing left but a remote province of his empire. 
 To this he had escaped a fugitive. From the utter wreck of his armies he 
 had gathered around him a few thousand men. It was with extreme regret 
 that Napoleon had found himself compelled to leave the congenial scenes 
 of peaceful life in Paris to repel the assault of his banded foes. Had he 
 remained in France until Russia, Prussia, and England had combined their 
 multitudinous hosts, he would have been undone. With his accustomed en- 
 ergy, he sprang upon Prussia before Alexander had time, with his hundred 
 thousand troops, to traverse the vast plains between St. Petersburg and Ber- 
 lin. By the most extraordinary skill in maneuvering, and in the endurance 
 of fatigue and toil almost superhuman, he threw his whole force into the rear 
 of the Prussians. He thus cut them off from Berlin and from all their sup- 
 plies. Then, sure of victory, to save the effusion of blood he again implored 
 peace. His appeal was unavailing. The roar of battle commenced, and the 
 armies of Prussia were overwhelmed, crushed, annihilated. As soon as the 
 terrific scene was over, Napoleon quietly established himself in the palaces 
 of the Prussian monarch. The kingdom was entirely at his mercy. He 
 then sent Duroc to find Frederick William, again to propose the sheathing 
 of the sword. 
 
 The unhappy king was found more than five hundred miles from his cap- 
 ital. He was far away beyond the Vistula, in the wilds of Prussian Poland. 
 He had gathered around him about twenty-five thousand men, the shattered 
 remnants of those hardy battalions whom Frederick the Great had trained 
 to despise fatigue, dangers, and death. The Russian host, amazed at the 
 sudden catastrophe which had overwhelmed its ally, threw open its arms to 
 receive the fugitive king. Frederick, animated by the presence of the proud 
 legions of Alexander, and conscious that the innumerable hordes of Russia 
 were pledged for his support, still hoped to retrieve his affairs. Perempto- 
 rily he repelled the advance of Napoleon, resolving, with renewed energy, 
 again to appeal to the decisions of the sword. 
 
 Nothing now remained for Napoleon but resolutely to meet the accumu- 
 lating hostility which still threatened him. Frederick, from the remote prov. 
 inces of his empire, was endeavoring to resuscitate his army. Alexander, 
 thoroughly aroused, was calling into requisition all the resources of his al- 
 most illimitable realms. He hoped to collect a force which would utterly
 
 520 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [ C HAP. XXXIV. 
 
 overwhelm the audacious victor. England, with her invincible navy proud- 
 ly sweeping all seas, was landing at Dantzic and Konigsberg troops, treas- 
 ure, and munitions of war. The storms of winter had already come. Na- 
 poleon was a thousand miles from the frontiers of France. His foes were 
 encamped several hundred miles further north, amid the gloomy forests and 
 the snow-clad hills of Poland. During the winter they would have time to 
 accumulate their combined strength, and to fall upon him, in the spring, with 
 overwhelming numbers. 
 
 England, exasperated and alarmed by this amazing triumph of Napoleon, 
 now adopted a measure which has been condemned by the unanimous voice 
 of the civilized world as a grievous infringement of the rights of nations. 
 It is an admitted principle, that when two powers are at war, every neutral 
 power has a right to sail from the ports of one to the ports of the other, and 
 1o carry any merchandise whatever, excepting arms arid military supplies. 
 Either of the contending parties has, however, the right to blockade any 
 port or ports by a naval force sufficient to preclude an entrance. England, 
 however, having the undisputed command of the seas, adopted what has been 
 called a paper blockade. She forbade all nations to have any commercial 
 intercourse whatever with France or her allies. She had also established 
 it as a maritime law, that all private property found afloat, belonging to an 
 enemy, was to be seized, and that peaceful passengers captured upon the 
 ocean were to be made prisoners of war. The French Minister for Foreign 
 Affairs made a very able report to the government upon this subject, which 
 was concluded in the following words : 
 
 " The natural right of self-defense permits us to oppose an enemy with 
 the same arms he uses, and to make his own rage and folly recoil upon him- 
 self. Since England has ventured to declare all France in a state of block- 
 ade, let France, in her turn, declare that the British isles are blockaded. 
 Since England considers every Frenchman an enemy, let all Englishmen, m 
 the countries occupied by the French armies, be made prisoners of war. 
 Since England seizes the private property of peaceable merchants, let the 
 property of all Englishmen be confiscated. Since England desires to impede 
 all commerce, let no ships from the British isles be received into the French 
 ports. As soon as England shall admit the authority of the law of nations 
 universally observed by civilized countries ; as soon as she shall acknowl- 
 edge that the laws of war are the same by sea and land ; that the right of 
 conquest can not be extended either to private property or to unarmed and 
 peaceable individuals ; and that the right of blockade ought to be limited 
 to fortified places, your majesty will cause these rigorous but not unjust 
 measures to cease, for justice between nations is nothing but exact reci- 
 procity." 
 
 In accordance with these principles, thus avowed to the world, Napoleon 
 issued his famous ordinance, called, from the city at which it was dated, The 
 Berlin Decree* He declared, in his turn, the British islands blockaded, all 
 
 * The following is a copy of this celebrated document : 
 
 In our Imperial Camp, Berhn, Nov. 26, 1808 
 Napoleon, Emperor of the French and King of Italy, considering, 
 1. That England regards not the law of nations, recognized by all civilized states ;
 
 1806.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 521 
 
 English property found upon the Continent confiscated, all Englishmen, 
 wherever taken, prisoners, and excluded all English manufactures from the 
 
 2. That she holds for an enemy every individual belonging to a hostile power, and makes prison- 
 ers of war not only the crews of armed vessels, but the crews of trading ships, and even captures 
 merchants traveling on account of commercial business ; 
 
 3. That she extends to merchantmen, and to the property of individuals, the right of conquest, 
 which is only applicable to what belongs to the hostile state ; 
 
 4. That she extends to commercial towns and to ports not fortified, to havens and to the mouths 
 of rivers, the ricrht of blockade, which, according to the practice of civilized nations, only is appli- 
 cable to fortified places ; 
 
 5. That she declares blockaded places before which she has not even a single ship of war, though 
 no place is blockaded until it is so invested that it can not be approached without imminent danger ; 
 
 6 That she even declares in a state of blockade places which her whole force united would be 
 unable to blockade, the entire coast of an empire ; 
 
 7. That this monstrous abuse of the right of blockade has no other object than to prevent com- 
 munications between different countries, and to raise the trade and the manufactures of England 
 upon the ruin of the industry of the Continent ; 
 
 8. That such being evidently the object of England, whoever deals in English merchandise on 
 the Continent thereby favors her designs and becomes her accomplice ; 
 
 9. That this conduct on the part of England, which is worthy of the early ages of barbarism, 
 has operated to the advantage of that power and to the injury of others ; 
 
 10. That it is a part of natural law to oppose one's enemies with the arms he employs, and to 
 fiirht in the way he fights, when he disavows all those ideas of justice and all those liberal senti- 
 ments which are the results of social civilization ; 
 
 We have resolved to apply to England the measures which she has sanctioned by her maritime 
 legislation. 
 
 The enactments of the present decree shall be invariably considered as a fundamental principle 
 of the Empire until such time as England acknowledge that the law of war is one and the same 
 by land and by sea ; that it can not be extended to private property of any description whatsoever, 
 nor to the persons of individuals not belonging to the profession of arms, and that the law of 
 blockade ought to be limited to fortified places actually invested by competent forces. 
 
 Accordingly, we have decreed and do decree as follows : 
 
 1. The British islands are declared in a state of blockade. 
 
 2. All trade and intercourse with the British islands is prohibited. Consequently, letters or 
 packets addressed to England, or to any native of England, or written in the English language, 
 will not be conveyed by post, and will be seized. 
 
 3. Every native of England, whatever his rank or condition, who may be found in the countries 
 occupied by our troops or by those of our allies, shall be made prisoner of war. 
 
 4. Every warehouse, and all merchandise and property of any description whatever, belonging 
 to an English subject, or the produce of English manufactures or colonies, is declared good prize. 
 
 5. Trade in English merchandise is prohibited ; and all merchandise belonging to England, or 
 the produce of her manufactures and colonies, is declared good prize. 
 
 6. One half of the produce of the confiscation of the merchandise and property declared good 
 prize by the preceding articles, will be appropriated to the indemnification of the merchants for 
 losses they have sustained through the capture of trading vessels by English cruisers. 
 
 7. No vessel, coming directly from England or her colonies, or having been there since the pub- 
 lication of the present decree, will be received in any port. 
 
 8. Any vessel which, by means of a false delaration, shall contravene the above article, shall be 
 seized, and the ship and cargo shall be confiscated, as if they were English property. 
 
 9. Our prize-court of Paris shall pronounce final judgment in all disputes that may arise in our 
 empire, or the countries occupied by the French army, relative to the execution of the present de- 
 cree. Our prize-court of Milan shall pronounce final judgment in all the said disputes that may 
 arise throughout our kingdom of Italy. 
 
 10. Our minister for foreign affairs will communicate the present decree to the Kings of Spain, 
 Naples, Holland, and Etruria, and to our other allies, whose subjects, like our own, are suffering 
 from the injustice and barbarism of the maritime legislation of England. 
 
 11. Our ministers for foreign affairs, war, marine, finance, and police, and our postmasters gen- 
 eral, are directed, according as they are severally concerned, to carry the present decree into exe- 
 cution. (Signed) NAPOLKOM.
 
 522 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 ports of France and her allies. This retaliatory measure has been admired 
 by some as a profound stroke of policy; by others it has been denounced 
 as a revolting act of despotism. It certainly was not presenting the other 
 cheek. It was returning Jolow for blow. By thus excluding all English 
 goods from the Continent, Napoleon hoped to be able soon to render the 
 Continent independent of the factories and the work-shops of the wealthy 
 islanders. France owes to this decree the introduction of sugar from the 
 beet root. 
 
 " I found myself alone," says Napoleon, " in my opinion on the Continent. 
 I was compelled, for the moment, to employ force in every quarter. At 
 length they began to comprehend me. Already the tree bears fruit. If I 
 had not given way, I should have changed the face of commerce as well as 
 the path of industry. I had naturalized sugar and indigo. I should have 
 naturalized cotton and many other things." 
 
 Two days after the publication of the Berlin decree, Napoleon wrote to 
 Junot, " Take especial care that the ladies of your establishment use Swiss 
 tea. It is as good as that of China. Coffee made from chicory is not at 
 all inferior to that of Arabia. Let them make use of these substitutes in 
 their drawing-rooms, instead of amusing themselves with talking politics like 
 Madame de Stae'l. Let them take care also that no part of their dress is 
 composed of English merchandise. If the wives of my chief officers do not 
 set the example, whom can I expect to follow it ? It is a contest of life or 
 death between France and England. I must look for the most cordial sup- 
 port in all those by whom I am surrounded." 
 
 In reference to the unrelenting hostility with which Napoleon was assailed 
 nearly every moment of his life, he often remarked, " I can not do what I wish. 
 I can only do what I can. These English compel me to live day by day." 
 
 The French Directory, on the 18th of January, 1798, had iniquitously 
 passed a decree declaring all ships containing English merchandise good 
 prizes, and dooming to death all neutral sailors found on board English ships. 
 This was one of the acts of that anarchical government which Napoleon 
 overthrew. 
 
 " Napoleon," says Alison, " soon after his accession to the consular throne, 
 issued a decree revoking this, and reverting to the old and humane laws of 
 the monarchy in this respect."" This decree of Napoleon was surely an act 
 of conciliation and friendship. 
 
 On the 1 6th of May, 1806, the British government passed an order de- 
 claring "the whole coasts, harbors, and rivers, from the Elbe to Brest in- 
 clusive, as actually blockaded." To this order in council Napoleon replied 
 by the Berlin decree of November 26, 1806. 
 
 England then passed another act, still more arrogant and oppressive, on 
 the 1st of January, 1807, declaring "that no vessel shall be permitted to trade 
 from one port to another, if both belong to France or her allies, and shall be 
 so far under their control as that British vessels are excluded therefrom ; 
 and the captains of all British vessels are hereby required to warn every 
 neutral vessel, coming from any such port, and destined to such other port, 
 to discontinue her voyage ; and any vessel, after being so warned, or after 
 having had a reasonable time allowed it for obtaining: information of the
 
 1806.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 523 
 
 present order in council, which shall, notwithstanding, persist in such voy- 
 age to such other port, shall be declared good prize." To this Napoleon 
 made no reply. 
 
 After a few months, on the 1 1 th of November, 1 807, England, adding in- 
 sult to injury, issued another decree, still more severe, declaring all the ports 
 and places of France and her allies, from which, though not at war with his 
 majesty, the British flag is excluded, shall be subject to the same restrictions 
 in respect of trade and navigation as if the same were actually blockaded in 
 the most strict and rigorous manner ; and that all trade in articles, the pro- 
 duce or manufacture of the said countries or colonies, shall be deemed to be 
 unlawful, and all such articles declared good prize." To this Napoleon re- 
 plied in his celebrated Mjlan decree of December 17 th, 1807. 
 
 These decrees of Napoleon gave rise to the most extraordinary debates 
 in the English Parliament, during which no one of either of the parties into 
 which the Parliament was divided even alluded to the fact that England was 
 entirely the aggressor. 
 
 " In endeavoring, at the distance of thirty years," says Alison, " to form 
 an impartial opinion on this most important subject, it must at once strike 
 the most cursory observer, that the grounds on which this question was de- 
 bated in the British Parliament were not those on which its merits really 
 rested, or on which they were placed by Napoleon at the time, and have 
 been since argued by the Continental historians. On both sides, in England, 
 it was assumed that France was the aggressor by the Berlin decree, and 
 that the only question was whether the orders in council exceeded the just 
 measures of retaliation, or were calculated to produce more benefit or injury 
 to this country. 
 
 " But was the Berlin decree the origin of the commercial warfare, or 
 was it merely, as Napoleon and the French writers assert, a retaliation upon 
 England, by the only means at the disposal of the French emperor, for the 
 new and illegal species of warfare which, in the pride of irresistible maritime 
 strength, they had thought fit to adopt ? That is the point upon which the 
 whole question really depends ; and yet, though put in the foremost rank by 
 Napoleon, it was scarcely touched on by either party in the British Parlia- 
 ment. Nor is it difficult to see to what cause this extraordinary circum- 
 stance was owing. Both the great parties which divided that assembly were 
 desirous of avoiding that question ; the Whigs, because the measure com- 
 plained of by Napoleon, and on which the Berlin decree was justified by the 
 French government, had been mainly adopted by Mr. Fox, and subsequent- 
 ly extended by Lord Howick ; the Tories, because they were unwilling to 
 cast any doubt on the exercise of maritime powers, in their opinion, of es- 
 sential importance to this country, and which gave them the great advantage 
 of having their political adversaries necessarily compelled to support the gen- 
 eral principle on which the measures in question had been founded. 
 
 " History, however, must disregard all these temporary considerations, and 
 in good faith approach the question, whether, in this great debate, England 
 or France was the real aggressor; and on this point, as on most others in 
 human affairs, where angry passions have been strongly excited, it will prob- 
 ably be found that there were faults on both sides.
 
 524 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 still the English historian must lament that the British government 
 had given so plausible a ground for representing his measures as retaliatory 
 only, by issuing in May, 1806, the blockade of the French coasts of the 
 Channel." 
 
 There has probably been no act of Napoleon's life for which he has been 
 more pitilessly condemned than for his Berlin and Milan decrees. They 
 have been represented as atrocious acts of wanton and unprovoked aggres- 
 sion against a meek and lowly sister kingdom. 
 
 It was reported to Napoleon that the troops, comfortably housed in the 
 cities and villages of Prussia, were very reluctant to move to frigid bivouacs 
 upon the icy marshes of the Vistula. To one who reported to him the de- 
 spondency of the army, Napoleon inquired, 
 
 " Does the spirit of my troops fail them when in sight of the enemy ?" 
 
 " No, Sire," was the reply. 
 
 " I was sure of it," said Napoleon. "My troops are always the same. I 
 must rouse them." 
 
 Walking up and down the floor with rapid strides, he immediately dictated 
 the following proclamation : " Soldiers ! A year to-day you were on the 
 field of Austerlitz. The Russian battalions fled before you in dismay, or, 
 being surrounded, yielded their arms to the victors. The next day they 
 sued for peace. But we were imposed upon. Scarcely had they escaped, 
 through our generosity, which was probably blamable, from the disasters of 
 the third coalition, than they organized a fourth. But the ally upon whom 
 they chiefly relied is no more. His capital, fortresses, magazines, arsenals, 
 two hundred and eighty standards, seven hundred field pieces, and five forti- 
 fied cities, are in our possession. The Oder, the Wartha, the deserts of Po- 
 land, the storms of winter, have not arrested your steps for a moment. You 
 have braved all, surmounted all. Every foe has fled at your approach. 
 
 " In vain have the Russians endeavored to defend the capital of ancient 
 and renowned Poland. The eagle of France soars over the Vistula. The 
 brave and unfortunate Pole, on seeing you, dreams that he beholds the le- 
 gions of Sobieski returning from their memorable expedition. Soldiers ! we 
 will not sheath our swords until a general peace is established, and we have 
 secured the rights of our allies, and restored to our commerce its freedom 
 and its colonies. On the Elbe and the Oder we have reconquered Pondicher- 
 ry, and our establishments in India, the Cape of Good Hope, and the Span- 
 ish colonies. Who gave the Russians the right to hold the balance of des- 
 tiny, or to interfere with our just designs ? They and ourselves, are we not 
 still the soldiers of Austerlitz ?" 
 
 Bourrienne says, " When Napoleon dictated his proclamations, he appear- 
 ed for the moment inspired, and exhibited, in some sort, the excitement of 
 the Italian Improvisatori. In order to follow him, it was necessary to write 
 with inconceivable rapidity. Frequently, when reading over to him what he 
 has dictated, I have known him smile, as in triumph, at the effect which he 
 imagined any particular passage would produce." 
 
 This address electrified the whole army. Its clarion notes rang through 
 all hearts. Not another murmur was heard. The corps in the rear, by 
 forced marches, pressed forward with alacrity to reach head-quarters. Those
 
 1806.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 525 
 
 nearer the Emperor forgot their fatigues and their sufferings, and longed to 
 engage the enemy. The love of the soldiers for their chieftain was so en- 
 thusiastic, and their confidence in his wisdom was so unbounded, that, though 
 hungry, barefooted, and exhausted, the whole mighty host crowded eagerly 
 along. The storms of approaching winter howled around them. The 
 wheels of their ponderous artillery sank axle deep in the mire. Still, through 
 rain and snow, and miry roads, they followed their indomitable chief, recount- 
 ing with pride the fatigues which they had already endured, and eagerly an- 
 ticipating the heroic deeds they were yet to perform. 
 
 Before leaving Berlin Napoleon wrote to the Minister of War. " The 
 project which I have now formed is more vast than any which I ever before 
 conceived. From this time I must find myself in a position to cope with all 
 events." He also addressed a message to the Senate, in that peculiar energy 
 of style marking all his productions, which the annals of eloquence have 
 rarely equaled, never surpassed. 
 
 4< The monarchs of Europe," said he, " have thus far sported with the 
 generosity of France. When one coalition is conquered, another immedi- 
 ately springs up. No sooner was that of 1805 dissolved than we had to 
 fight that of 1806. It behooves France to be less generous in future. The 
 conquered states must be retained till the general peace on land and sea. 
 England, regardless of all the rights of nations, launching a commercial in- 
 eerdict against one quarter of the globe, must be struck with the same inter- 
 dict in return ; and it must be rendered as rigorous as the nature of things 
 Will permit. Since we are doomed to war, it will be better to plunge in 
 wholly than to go but half way. Thus may we hope to terminate it more 
 completely and more solidly by a general and durable peace." 
 
 The labors of Napoleon were perfectly herculean in preparing for this 
 winter campaign. It was four hundred miles from Berlin to Warsaw. This 
 was a dreary interval for an army to traverse through the freezing storms 
 and drifting snows of a northern winter. The Russians and Prussians could 
 present a hundred and twenty thousand men upon the banks of the Vistula. 
 
 The partition of Poland by Russia, Prussia, and Austria has been pro- 
 nounced by the unanimous voice of the world the most atrocious act which 
 has disgraced modern Europe. As soon as Napoleon entered that part of 
 Poland which had been annexed to Prussia in this infamous deed of rapacity, 
 the Poles gathered around him with the utmost enthusiasm. The nobles of 
 the dismembered empire thronged his head-quarters. They hailed him as 
 the savior of their country. They pledged to him their fortunes and their 
 lives if he would rescue Poland from their oppressors. The populace rent 
 the skies with enthusiastic shouts wherever the great conqueror appeared. 
 They were clamorous for arms, that they might fight the battles of freedom, 
 and regain their independence. Napoleon was extremely embarrassed. 
 
 A deputation from Warsaw waited upon him, entreating him to proclaim 
 the independence of Poland, and to place some member of his own family 
 upon the throne. They assured him that the Poles, as one man, would 
 rally with admiration and gratitude beneath his banners. Napoleon said to 
 them, 
 
 " France has never recognized the different partitions of Poland. Never- 
 VOL. II. P
 
 526 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 theless, I can not proclaim your independence unless you are determined to 
 defend your rights with arms in your hands, and by all sorts of sacrifices, 
 even that of life. You are reproached with having, in your constant civil 
 dissensions, lost sight of the true interests of your country. Instructed by 
 misfortune, be now united, and prove to the world that one spirit animates 
 the whole Polish nation." 
 
 After the deputation had withdrawn, Napoleon remarked, " I like the 
 Poles. Their enthusiasm pleases me. I should like to make them an hide, 
 pendent people. But that is no very easy matter. The cake has been 
 shared among too many. There is Austria, Russia, and Prussia, who have 
 each had a slice. Besides, when the match is once kindled, who knows 
 where the conflagration may stop. My first duty is toward France. I must 
 not sacrifice her interests for Poland. In short, we must refer this matter 
 to the universal sovereign, Time. He will show us by-and-by what we are 
 to do." 
 
 The situation of Napoleon was indeed critical. He was hundreds of 
 leagues from the frontiers of France, and enveloped in the snows of winter. 
 Russia, with her countless hordes and unknown resources, was threatening 
 him from the North. Prussia, though conquered, was watching for an op- 
 portunity to retrieve her disgrace and ruin. Austria had raised a force of 
 eighty thousand men, and was threatening his rear. This Austrian force 
 was professedly an army of observation. But Napoleon well knew that, 
 upon the slightest reverse, Austria would fall upon him in congenial alliance 
 with Russia and Prussia. England, the undisputed monarch of the wide 
 world of waters, was most efficiently co-operating with these banded foes of 
 France. 
 
 By proclaiming the independence of Poland, Napoleon would have gained 
 a devoted ally, ranging a nation of twenty millions of inhabitants beneath his 
 flag ; but by liberating Poland from its proud and powerful oppressors, he 
 would have exasperated to the highest degree Russia, Prussia, and Austria. 
 Thus the probabilities of peace would have been infinitely more remote. 
 Napoleon w r as contending for peace. He told the Poles frankly that he 
 could not involve France in any new quarrels. " I am not come hither," 
 said he, " to beg a throne for my family. I am not in want of thrones to 
 give away." 
 
 Through December's dismal storms ; through a country more dreary than 
 imagination can well conceive, filled with gloomy forests, fathomless mo- 
 rasses, bleak and barren plains, Napoleon led his troops to the banks of the 
 Vistula. Wherever he met his foes, he scattered them before him with 
 whirlwind power. Sometimes, over a space of seventy -five miles in breadth, 
 Napoleon's army was fighting its way against the storm of bullets which, 
 from hostile batteries, swept their ranks. But nothing could retard his 
 progress. The suffering of that wintry march was awful beyond descrip- 
 tion. Early in January the army entered the dark forests which frown 
 along the inhospitable Vistula. 
 
 The cantonments of the French army were extended one hundred and 
 fifty miles, skirting the left bank of the river. All the passes of the stream 
 were occupied in such strength as to render surprise impossible. The sol
 
 1806.] 
 
 THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 
 
 527 
 
 THE MARCH TO THE VISTULA. 
 
 diers cut down the forests and constructed comfortable huts to screen them- 
 selves from the piercing cold. The camps were admirably arranged in reg- 
 ular streets, presenting the most cheerful aspect of order and cleanliness. 
 Reviews, rural labors, and warlike games occupied the minds of the soldiers 
 and confirmed their health. Immense convoys of provisions, guarded by 
 troops and fortresses left in the rear, were continually defiling along all the 
 roads from the Rhine. The soldiers were soon comfortable and happy in 
 their well-provisioned homes. Napoleon, regardless of his own ease, thought 
 of them alone. He was every where present. His foresight provided for 
 every emergence. His troops witnessed with gratitude his intense devotion 
 to their comfort. They saw him riding from post to post by day and by 
 night, drenched with rain, spattered with mud, whitened with snow, regard- 
 less of rest, of food, of sleep, wading through mire and drifts, groping through 
 darkness and breasting storms. Napoleon said, " My soldiers are my chil- 
 dren." No one could doubt his sincerity who witnessed his vigilance, his 
 toil, his fatigue. Not a soldier in the army questioned his parental love. 
 Hence the Emperor was loved in return as no other mortal was ever loved 
 before. 
 
 The soldiers, to their surprise, found that the generous foresight of Napo- 
 leon had provided them even with several millions of bottles of wine. Abun- 
 dant magazines were established, that they might be fully supplied with
 
 528 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 good food and warm clothing. The sick and wounded in particular were 
 nursed with the most tender care. Six thousand beds were prepared at 
 Warsaw, and an equal number at Thorne, at Posen, and at other places on 
 the banks of the Vistula and the Oder. Comfortable mattresses of wool 
 
 ENCAMPMENT ON THE VISTULA. 
 
 were made for the hospitals. Thirty thousand tents, taken from the Prus- 
 sians, were cut up into bandages and bedding. Over each hospital Napoleon 
 appointed a chief overseer, always supplied with ready money, to procure for 
 the sick whatever luxuries they needed. A chaplain was appointed in each 
 hospital to minister to the spiritual wants of the sick and the dying. This 
 chaplain was to be, in an especial manner, the friend and the protector of 
 those under his care. He w r as charged by the Emperor to report to him the 
 slightest negligence toward the sick. Such were the infinite pains which 
 Napoleon took to promote the comfort of his soldiers. He shared all their 
 hardships. His palace was a barn. In one room he ate, and slept, and re- 
 ceived his audiences. It was his invariable custom, whenever he issued an 
 order, to inform himself if the order had been executed. He personally ar- 
 ranged all the military works of the widely-extended line over which his 
 army was spread. 
 
 The month of January, with its storms and intensity of cold, passed slowly 
 away. Winter brooded drearily over the plains of Poland, presenting one
 
 I806.J THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 529 
 
 vast expanse of ice and snow Europe contemplated with amazement the 
 sublime spectacle of a French arrny of one or two hundred thousand men 
 passing the winter in the midst of the gloomy forests of the Vistula. Alexan- 
 der, with troops accustomed to the frozen North, planned to attack Napoleon 
 by surprise in his winter quarters. Secretly he put his mighty host in motion. 
 Napoleon, ever on the alert, was prepared to meet him. Immediately march- 
 ing from his encampments, he surprised those who hoped to surprise him. 
 
 Battle after battle ensued. The Russians fought with unyielding obsti- 
 nacy, the French with impetuous enthusiasm. In every forest, in every 
 mountain gorge, upon the banks of every swollen stream clogged with ice, 
 the Russians planted their cannon, and hurled balls, and shells, and grape 
 into the bosoms of their unrelenting pursuers. But the French, impelled by 
 the resistless impetuosity of their great chieftain, pressed on, regardless of 
 mutilation and death. The snow was crimsoned with blood. The wounded 
 struggled, and shrieked, and froze in the storm-piled drifts. The dark forms 
 of the dead floated with the ice down the cold streams to an unknown burial. 
 Wintry nights, long, dismal, and freezing, darkened upon the contending 
 hosts. Their lurid watch-fires gleamed in awful sublimity over wide leagues 
 of frozen hill and valley. The soldiers of each army, nerved by the ener- 
 gies of desperation, threw themselves upon the snow as their only couch, 
 and with no tent covering but the chill sky. 
 
 Napoleon stopped one night at a miserable cottage. His little camp bed- 
 stead was placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. In five minutes he dis- 
 patched his supper, which consisted of but one dish. Then, rolling his nap- 
 kin into a ball, he playfully threw it at the head of his favorite valet Con- 
 stant, saying, " Quick, quick, take away the remains of my banquet." Then 
 unrolling a map of Prussia, he spread it upon the floor, and addressing Cau- 
 laincourt, said, " Come here, Grand Equerry, and follow me." With pins 
 he marked out the progressive movements of his army, and said, " I shall 
 beat the Russians there, and there, and there. In three months the cam- 
 paign will be ended. The Russians must have a lesson. The fair Queen 
 of Prussia must learn too that advisers sometimes pay dearly for the advice 
 they give. I do not like those women who throw aside their attributes of 
 grace and goodness. A woman to instigate war ! to urge men to cut each 
 other's throats ! Shame on it ! She may run the risk of losing her king- 
 dom by playing that game." 
 
 At this moment some dispatches were delivered to the Emperor. Rapidly 
 glancing over them, he frowned and exclaimed, " Surely these dispatches 
 have been a long time on their way ! How is this ? Tell the orderly offi- 
 cer who brought them that I wish to speak to him." 
 
 " Sir," said he, severely, as the officer entered, " at what hour were these 
 dispatches placed in your hands ?" 
 
 " At eight o'clock in the evening, sire." 
 
 " And how many leagues had you to ride ?" 
 
 " I do not know precisely, sire." 
 
 " But you ought to know, sir an orderly officer ought to know that. I 
 know it. You had twenty-seven miles to ride, and you set off at eight 
 o'clock. Look at your watch, sir. What o'clock is it now ?"
 
 530 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 " Half past twelve, sire. The roads were in a terrible state. In some 
 places the snow obstructed my passage " 
 
 " Poor excuses, sir, poor excuses. Retire, and await my orders." As the 
 officer, extremely disconcerted, closed the door, he added, " This cool, leis- 
 urely gentleman wants stimulating. The reprimand I have given him will 
 make him spur his horse another time. Let me see my answer must be 
 delivered in two hours. I have not a moment to lose." 
 
 Soon the orderly officer was recalled. " Set off immediately, sir," said 
 he ; " these dispatches must be delivered with the utmost speed. General 
 Lasalle must receive my orders by three o'clock by three o'clock. You 
 understand, sir ?" 
 
 " Sire ! by half past two the general shall have the orders of which I have 
 the honor to be the bearer." 
 
 "Very well, sir ; mount your horse but stop !" he added, calling the offi- 
 cer back, and speaking in those winning tones of kindness which he had ever 
 at his command : " tell General Lasalle that it will be agreeable to me that 
 you should be the person selected to announce to me the success of these 
 movements." 
 
 With such consummate tact could Napoleon severely reprimand, and at 
 the same time win the confidence and the love of the person reprimanded. 
 
 Napoleon had now driven his assailants, enveloped in the storms and the 
 ice of a Polish winter, two hundred and forty miles from the banks of the 
 Vistula At last the retreating Russians concentrated all their forces upon 
 the plain of Eylau. It was the 7th of February, 1807. The night was dark 
 and intensely cold, as the Russians, exhausted by the retreating march of 
 the day, took their position for a desperate battle on the morrow. There 
 was a gentle swell of land, extending two or three miles, which skirted a vast, 
 bleak, unsheltered plain, over which the piercing wintry gale drifted the deep 
 snow. Leaden clouds, hurrying through the sky as if flying from a defeat 
 or congregating for a conflict, boded a rising storm. Upon this ridge the 
 Russians, in double lines, formed themselves in battle array. Five hundred 
 pieces of cannon were ranged in battery, to hurl destruction into the bosoms 
 of their foes. They then threw themselves upon the icy ground for their 
 frigid bivouac. The midnight storm wailed its mournful requiem over the 
 sleeping host, and sifted down upon them the winding-sheet of snow. 
 
 In the midst of the tempestuous night, Napoleon, with his determined bat- 
 talions, came also upon the plain, groping through drifts 'and gloom. He 
 placed his army in position for the terrific battle which the dawn of morning 
 would usher in. Two hundred pieces of heavy artillery were advantageous- 
 ly posted to sweep the dense ranks of the enemy. Upon the ridge 80,000 
 Russians slept. In the plain before them 60,000 Frenchmen were bivouack- 
 ing upon the snow. The hostile hosts were at but half cannon shot from 
 each other. Indomitable determination inflamed the souls of officers and 
 soldiers in both armies. It was an awful night, the harbinger of a still more 
 awful day. 
 
 The frozen earth, the inclement sky, the scudding clouds, the drifting 
 snow, the wailing, wintry wind, the lurid watchfires gleaming through the 
 gloom, the spectral movement of legions of horsemen and footmen taking
 
 1807.] 
 
 THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 
 
 531 
 
 BIVOUAC BEFORE EYLAU. 
 
 their positions for the sanguinary strife, the confused murmur of the voices 
 and of the movements of the mighty armies blending, like the roar of many 
 waters, with the midnight storm, presented a spectacle of sublimity which 
 overawed every beholder. The sentinels of each army could almost touch 
 each other with their muskets. Cold, and hungry, and weary, the spirit of 
 humanity for a moment triumphed over the ferocity of war. Kind words of 
 greeting and of sympathy were interchanged by those who soon, in phrensy, 
 were plunging bayonets into each other's bosoms. At midnight, Napoleon 
 slept for an hour in a chair. He then mounted his horse, and marshaled his 
 shivering troops for the horrors of battle. 
 
 The dark and stormy morning had not yet dawned when the cannonade 
 commenced. It was terrific. The very earth shook beneath the tremen- 
 dous detonation. Seven hundred heavy cannon, worked by the most skill- 
 ful gunners, created an unintermitted roar of the most deafening and appall- 
 ing thunder. Both armies presented their unprotected breasts to bullets, 
 grapeshot, balls, and shells. Companies, battalions, regiments, even whole 
 divisions melted away before the merciless discharges. The storm of snow, 
 in blinding, smothering flakes, swept angrily into the faces of the assailants 
 and assailed, as the bands of battle, in exultant victory or in terrific defeat, 
 rushed to and fro over the plain. The tempestuous air was soon so filled 
 with smoke that the day was as dark as the night. Under this black and sul'
 
 532 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 phurous canopy, the infuriate hosts rushed upon each other. Even the flash 
 of the guns could not be seen through the impenetrable gloom. Horsemen 
 plunged to the charge unable to discern the foe. Thus the deadly conflict 
 continued, one hundred and forty thousand men firing into each other's bo- 
 soms, through the morning, and the noon, and the afternoon, and after the 
 sun had gone down in the gloom of a winter's night. Napoleon galloped up 
 and down the field of blood, regardless of danger, ever presenting himself at 
 those points which were most threatened. 
 
 In the midst of the battle Napoleon was informed that a church, which he 
 deemed a position of essential importance, had been taken by the enemy. 
 He pressed his spurs into his horse, and galloped with the utmost speed into 
 the midst of his battalions, who were retreating before vastly superior num- 
 bers. 
 
 " What !" shouted the Emperor, " a handful of Russians repulse troops of 
 the Grand Army ! Forward, my brave lads ! We must have the church ! 
 We must have it at every hazard /" 
 
 EYLAU AND FRIEDLAND. 
 
 Animated by this voice, an enthusiastic shout of " Vive 1'Empereur !" rose 
 above the thunders of the conflict. The soldiers instantly formed in solid 
 column, and, through a perfect storm of bullets and shells, forced their way 
 upon the enemy. The Emperor espied a few paces from him an old grena- 
 dier. His face was blackened with gunpowder, his clothes were red with 
 blood, his left arm had just been torn from his shoulder by a shell, and the 
 crimson drops were falling from the ghastly wound. The man was hurrying 
 to fall into the ranks. 
 
 " Stay ! stay ! my good fellow," exclaimed the Emperor ; " go to the am 
 bulance and get your wound dressed." 
 
 "I will," replied the soldier, "as soon as we have taken the church." 
 He then disappeared in the midst of the smoke and the tumult of the battle
 
 1807.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 533 
 
 The Duke of Vicenza, who witnessed this scene, says the tears gushed into 
 the eyes of the Emperor as he contemplated this touching proof of devo- 
 tion. 
 
 The battle had now raged for eighteen hours. The snow was red with 
 blood. The bodies of the wounded and the dead covered the plain. Thou- 
 sands of the torn and bleeding victims of war through these long hours had 
 writhed in agony in the freezing air, trampled by the rush of phrensied squad- 
 rons. Their piercing shrieks rose above the roar of artillery and musketry. 
 Eylau was in flames ; other adjacent villages and farm-houses were blazing. 
 The glare of the conflagration added to the horrors of the pitiless storm of 
 the elements and of war. Women and children were perishing in the fields, 
 having fled from their bomb-battered and burning dwellings. Still the battle 
 continued unabated. 
 
 As the twilight of the stormy day faded into the gloom of night, Napoleon, 
 calm and firm, stood beneath the shelter of the church which he had retaken. 
 The balls were crashing around him. Grief pervaded every face of the im- 
 perial staff. With consternation they implored him to place himself in a po- 
 sition of safety. Regardless of their entreaties, he braved every peril. In- 
 fusing his own inflexibility into the hearts of all around, he still impelled his 
 bleeding columns upon the foe. More than thirty thousand Russians, struck 
 by the balls and the swords of the French, were stretched upon the frozen 
 field. Ten thousand Frenchmen, the dying and the dead, were also strewed 
 upon the plain. Ten thousand horses had been struck down. Some had 
 been torn in pieces by cannon balls ; others, frightfully mutilated, were ut- 
 tering piercing screams, and were wildly plunging over the plain, trampling 
 the wounded beneath their iron hoofs. 
 
 It was now ten o'clock at night. Nearly one half of the Russian army 
 was destroyed. A fresh division of the French now appeared on the field. 
 They had been marching all day, with the utmost haste, guided by the can- 
 non's roar. The Russians could endure the conflict no longer. Proud of 
 having so long and so valiantly withstood the great Napoleon, they retreated, 
 shouting victory ! Napoleon remained master of the blood-bought field. The 
 victors, utterly exhausted, bleeding and freezing, again sought such repose 
 as could be found upon the gory ice beneath that wintry sky. Napoleon 
 was overwhelmed with grief. Never before had such a scene of misery met 
 even his eye. 
 
 According to his invariable custom, he traversed the field of battle to min- 
 ister with his own hands to the wounded and the dying. It w r as midnight 
 dark, cold, and stormy. By his example, he animated his attendants to the 
 most intense exertions in behalf of the sufferers. His sympathy and aid 
 were extended to the wounded Russians as well as to those of his own army. 
 One of his generals, witnessing the deep emotion with which he was affect- 
 ed, spoke of the glory which the victory would give him. " To a father," 
 said Napoleon, " who loses his children, victory has no charms. When the 
 heart speaks, glory itself is an illusion." 
 
 As Napoleon was passing over this field of awful carnage, he came to an 
 ambulance, or hospital wagon. A huge pile of amputated arms and legs, 
 clotted with gore, presented a horrible spectacle to the eye. A soldier was
 
 534 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 resisting the efforts of the surgeon, who was about to cut off his leg, which 
 had been dreadfully shattered by a cannon balL 
 
 MORNING AFTER THE BATTLE OF EYLA.U. 
 
 "What is the matter?" inquired the Emperor, as he rode up to the spot. 
 Seeing, at a glance, the state of the case, he continued, " How is this ? Sure- 
 ty you, a brave mustache, are not afraid of a cut !" 
 
 " No, your majesty, I am not afraid of a cut. But this is a sort of cut that 
 a man may die of; and there is poor Catharine and her four little ones ! If 
 I should die " and the man sobbed aloud.
 
 1807.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 535 
 
 " Well," replied the Emperor, " and what if you should die ? Am I not 
 here ?" 
 
 The wounded soldier fixed his eyes for a moment upon Napoleon, and 
 then, with a trembling voice, exclaimed, " True ! true, your majesty ! I am 
 very foolish. Here, doctor, cut off rny limb. God bless the Emperor !" 
 
 A dragoon, dreadfully torn by a cannon ball, raised his head from the 
 bloody snow as the Emperor drew near, and faintly said, " Turn your eyes 
 this way, please your majesty. I believe that I have got my death wound. 
 I shall soon be in the other world. But no matter for that Vive 1'Em- 
 pereur !" Napoleon immediately dismounted from his horse, tenderly took 
 the hand of the wounded man, and enjoined it upon his attendants to convey 
 him immediately to the ambulance, and to commend him to the special care 
 of the surgeon. Large tears rolled down the cheeks of the dying dragoon 
 as he fixed his eyes upon the loved features of his Emperor. Fervidly he 
 exclaimed, " I only wish that I had a thousand lives to lay down for your 
 majesty." 
 
 " Near a battery," says Caulaincourt, "which had been abandoned by the 
 enemy, we beheld a singular picture, and one of which description can con- 
 vey but a faint idea. Between a hundred and fifty and two hundred French 
 grenadiers were surrounded by a quadruple rank of Prussians. Both parties 
 were weltering in a river of blood, amid fragments of cannons, muskets, 
 and swords. They had evidently fought with the most determined fury, for 
 every corpse exhibited numerous and horrible wounds. A feeble cry of Vive 
 rEmpereurf was heard to emanate from this mountain of the dead, and all 
 eyes were instantly turned to the spot whence the voice proceeded. Half 
 concealed beneath a tattered flag lay a young officer, whose breast was dec- 
 orated with an order. Though pierced with numerous wounds, he succeeded 
 in raising Himself up, so as to rest on his elbows. His handsome counte- 
 nance was overspread with the livid hue of death. He recognized the Em- 
 peror, and in a feeble, faltering voice, exclaimed, 
 
 " ' God bless your majesty ! farewell, farewell ! Oh, my poor mother '* 
 He turned a supplicating glance to the Emperor, and then uttering the 
 words, ' To dear France my last sigh !' he fell stiff and cold. It was poor 
 Ernest Auzoni, one of the bravest of men, and one who, but a few hours be- 
 fore, had received the warmest commendation of the Emperor. His death 
 blighted the happiness of a beautiful and accomplished woman whom I re- 
 membered among my friends. 
 
 "Napoleon seemed riveted to the spot, which was watered with the blood 
 of these heroes. ' Brave men !' said he ; ' brave Auzoni ! Excellent young 
 man ! Alas ! this frightful scene ! His endowment shall go to his mother. 
 Let the order be presented for my signature as soon as possible.' Then 
 turning to Dr. Ivan, who accompanied him, he said, ' Examine poor Auzoni's 
 wounds, and see whether any thing can be done for him. This is indeed 
 terrible.' The Emperor, whose feelings were deeply excited, continued his 
 mournful inspection of the field of battle." 
 
 Upon this dreadful field of woe, of blood, of death, oppressed with myriad 
 cares, and in the gloom of the inclement night, Napoleon remembered his 
 faithful and anxious Josephine. She was then in Paris. Seizing a pen, he
 
 536 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 hurriedly wrote the following lines. Calling a courier to his side, he dis- 
 patched him at his fleetest speed to convey the note to Josephine : 
 
 " Eylau, 3 o'clock in the morning, February 9, 1807. 
 
 " My love ! There was a great battle yesterday. Victory remains with 
 me, but I have lost many men. The loss of the enemy, still more consider- 
 able, does not console me. I write these two lines myself, though greatly 
 fatigued, to tell you that I am well, and that I love you. Wholly thine, 
 
 "NAPOLEON." 
 
 The fac simile of this letter, written under such circumstances, will be ex- 
 amined with interest. 
 
 /f> f*t *'v #"A^x^<^^ 
 
 Y 
 
 z. 
 
 Man amie il y a eu hier une grande bataille ; la victoire 
 
 nt'esf restee, mais j'ai perdu bien du monde ; la perte 
 
 de Vennemi qui est plus considerable encore, ne me console pas Enfin 
 
 je t'ecrts ces 2 lignes moi-meme, quoique je sois bien fatigue 
 
 pour te dire que je suis bien portant, et queje faime. 
 
 Tout a toi, 
 
 Napoleon. 
 
 The dawn of the morning exhibited, .upon that frozen field, perhaps the 
 most frightful spectacle earth has ever witnessed. Nearly forty thousand 
 men, awfully torn by cannon balls, were prostrate upon the bloodstained ice 
 and snow. A wail of anguish rose from the extended plain, which froze the 
 heart of the beholder with terror. Dismounted cannon, fragments of projec- 
 tiles, guns, swords, horses, dead or cruelly mangled, rearing, plunging, shriek- 
 ing in their agony, presented a scene of unparalleled horror. Napoleon's 
 heart was most deeply moved. His feelings of sympathy burst forth even 
 in one of his bulletins. " This spectacle," he wrote, " is fit to excite in 
 princes a love of peace and a horror of war." He immediately dispatched 
 some battalions to pursue the retreating enemy, while he devoted all his en-
 
 1807.] THE FIELD OF EYLAU. 537 
 
 ergies to the relief of the misery spread around him. In the evening of the 
 same day he wrote another letter to Josephine. 
 
 " Eylau, February 9, 6 o'clock in the evening, 1807. 
 
 " I write one word, my love, that you may not be anxious. The enemy 
 has lost the battle, 40 pieces of cannon, 10 flags, 12,000 prisoners. He has 
 suffered horribly. I have lost many men 1600 killed, and three or four 
 thousand wounded. Corbineau was killed by a shell.* I was strongly at- 
 tached to that officer, who had great merit. It gives me great pain. My 
 horse-guard has covered itself with glory. Allemagne is wounded danger- 
 ously. Adieu, my love. Wholly thine, NAPOLEON." 
 
 Again, in the night of the next day he wrote to that noble wife, who well 
 knew how to appreciate the delicacy and generosity of such attentions : 
 
 " Eylau, February 11, 3 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " I send you one line, my love. You must have been very anxious. I 
 have beaten the enemy in a memorable battle, but it has cost me many brave 
 men. The inclement weather constrains me to return to my cantonments. 
 Do not indulge in grief, I entreat you. All this will soon end. The happi- 
 ness of seeing you will lead me soon to forget my fatigues. I never was bet- 
 ter. The little Tascher has conducted nobly. He has had a rough trial. 
 I have placed him near me. I have made him officer of ordnance. Thus his 
 troubles are ended. The young man interests me. Adieu, my dearest. A 
 thousand kisses. NAPOLEON." 
 
 In another letter of the 14th, he writes : 
 
 "My love ! I am still at Eylau. The country is covered with the dead 
 and the wounded. This is not the pleasant part of war. One suffers, and 
 the soul is oppressed to see so many victims. I am well. I have done what 
 I wished. I have repulsed the enemy, compelling him to abandon his pro- 
 jects. You must be very anxious, and that thought afflicts me. Neverthe- 
 less, tranquilize yourself, my love, and be cheerful. Wholly thine, 
 
 " NAPOLEON." 
 
 * Napoleon was giving General Corbineau some orders, when the unfortunate general was struck 
 by a shell, and, in the words of Napoleon, " was carried away, crushed, annihilated before the 
 Emperor's face."
 
 538 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 
 
 Renewed Offers of Peace Address to the Legislative Body in Paris Proclamation Offers of 
 Austria Napoleon's Reply Employments at Osterode Madame de Stael Temple of the 
 Madeleine Foresight of the Emperor Letters English Diplomacy at Constantinople Dant- 
 zic Attack of the Allies Friedland Russia sues for Peace Address to the Army. 
 
 NAPOLEON remained eight days at Eylau, healing the wounds of his army, 
 and gathering supplies for the protection and comfort of his troops. He was 
 daily hoping that Frederick William and Alexander would demand no more 
 blood that they would propose terms of peace. It is a fact admitted by all, 
 that Napoleon, in his wars thus far, was fighting in self-defense. He was 
 the last to draw the sword and the first to propose peace. In this campaign, 
 before the battle of Jena, Napoleon wrote to Frederick, entreating him to 
 spare the effusion of blood. This appeal was disregarded. Scarce had the 
 sun gone down over that field of carnage and of woe, ere Napoleon wrote 
 again, pleading for humanity. Again was his plea sternly rejected. Secret- 
 ly the Allies collected their strength and fell upon him in his cantonments. 
 Napoleon pursued them two hundred and forty miles, and destroyed half of 
 their army upon the plain of Eylau. For five days he waited anxiously, 
 hoping that his vanquished assailants would propose peace. They were si- 
 lent. He then, magnanimously triumphing over pride of spirit, and almost 
 violating the dictates of self-respect, condescended again to plead for the 
 cessation of hostilities. In the following terms, conciliatory, yet dignified, 
 he addressed the King of Prussia : 
 
 " I desire to put a period to the misfortunes of your family, and to organ- 
 ize as speedily as possible the Prussian monarchy. Its intermediate power is 
 necessary for the tranquillity of Europe. I desire peace with Russia ; and, 
 provided the cabinet of St. Petersburg has no designs upon the Turkish 
 Empire, I see no difficulty in obtaining it. Peace with England is not less 
 essential to all nations. I shall have no hesitation in sending a minister to 
 Memil, to take part in a congress of France, Sweden, England, Russia, 
 Prussia, and Turkey. But as such a congress may last many years, which 
 would not suit the present condition of Prussia, your majesty therefore will, 
 I am persuaded, be of opinion that I have taken the simplest method, and 
 one which is most likely to secure the prosperity of your subjects. At all 
 events, I entreat your majesty to believe in my sincere desire to re-establish 
 amicable relations with so friendly a power as Prussia, and that I wish to do 
 the same with Russia and England." 
 
 The Allies considered this renewed proposal of Napoleon but an indication 
 of his weakness. It encouraged them to redoubled efforts. They resolved 
 to collect still more numerous swarms of Cossacks from the barbarian North, 
 and, with increased vigor, to prosecute the war. Napoleon had also made
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 539 
 
 proposals to Sweden for peace. His advances were there also repelled. 
 The King of Sweden wrote to the King of Prussia, " I think that a public 
 declaration should be made in favor of the legitimate cause of the Bourbons, 
 by openly espousing their interests, which is plainly that of all established 
 governments. My opinion on this point is fixed and unalterable." 
 
 This arrogant assumption, that France had not a right to choose its own 
 form of government and elect its own sovereign, rendered peace impossible. 
 Even had Napoleon, like Benedict Arnold, turned traitor to his country, and 
 endeavored to reinstate the rejected Bourbons, it would only have plunged 
 France anew into all the horrors of civil war. The proudest and most pow- 
 erful nation in Europe would not submit to dictation so humiliating. Napo- 
 leon truly said, " The Bourbons can not return to the throne of France but 
 over the dead bodies of one hundred thousand Frenchmen." The Bourbons 
 did finally return in the rear of the combined armies of despotic Europe. 
 But the Allies crimsoned the Continent with blood, and struck down nearly 
 a million of Frenchmen in mutilation and death ere they accomplished the 
 iniquitous restoration. But where are the Bourbons now ? And who now 
 sits upon the throne of France ? This is a lesson for the nations. 
 
 Just before the campaign of Jena, Napoleon thus addressed the legislative 
 body in Paris : " Princes, magistrates, soldiers, citizens, we have all but one 
 object in our several departments the interest of our country. Weakness 
 in the executive is the greatest of all misfortunes to the people. Soldier or 
 First Consul, I have but one thought ; Emperor, I have no other object the 
 prosperity of France. I do not wish to increase its territory, hut I am re- 
 solved to maintain its integrity. I have no desire to augment the influence 
 which we possess in Europe, but I will not permit what we enjoy to decline- 
 No state shall be incorporated with our empire ; but I will not sacrifice my 
 rights, or the ties which unite us, to other states." 
 
 Napoleon, finding that there was no hope of peace, and having driven his 
 enemies to the banks of the Niemen, prepared to return to his winter quar- 
 ters upon the Vistula. He thus addressed his army : 
 
 " Soldiers ! we were beginning to taste the sweets of repose at our winter 
 quarters, when the enemy attacked the first corps on the Lower Vistula. 
 We flew to meet him. We pursued him, sword in hand, eighty leagues. 
 He was driven for shelter beneath the cannons of his fortresses, and beyond 
 the Pregel. We have captured sixty pieces of cannon, sixteen standards, 
 and killed, wounded, or taken more than forty thousand Russians. The 
 brave who have fallen on our side have fallen nobly like soldiers. Their 
 families shall receive our protection. Having thus defeated the whole pro- 
 jects of the enemy, we will return to the Vistula, and re-enter our winter 
 quarters. Whoever ventures to disturb our repose will repent of it. 'Beyond 
 the Vistula as beyond the Danube, we shall always be the soldiers of the 
 Grand Army," 
 
 Napoleon himself remained at Eylau until every thing was removed. He 
 superintended the departure of the several divisions of the army, the sick, 
 the wounded, the prisoners and the artillery taken from the enemy. He had 
 a vast number of sledges constructed, and made as comfortable as possible, 
 for the removal of the sick and the wounded. More than six thousand were
 
 540 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 KEMOVING THE WOUNDED 
 
 thus transported over two hundred miles, to their warm hospitals on the 
 banks of the Vistula. 
 
 Austria now wished for an excuse to join the Allies.* She was, however, 
 bound by the most solemn treaties not again to draw the sword against 
 France. Napoleon had cautiously avoided giving her any offense. But she 
 could not forget the disgrace of Ulm and Austerlitz. As an entering wedge 
 to the strife, she proffered her services as mediator. Napoleon was not at 
 all deceived as to her intentions, yet promptly replied : 
 
 " The Emperor accepts the amicable intervention of Francis II. for the 
 
 * "The battle of Eylau should have been the signal for the contracting the closest alliance with 
 the Russian government, the instant advance of loans to any amount, the marching of sixty thou- 
 sand English soldiers to the nearest points of embarkation. This was the crisis of the war ; the 
 imprudent confidence of Napoleon had drawn him into a situation full of peril ; for the first time 
 in his life he had been overmatched in a pitched battle, and hostile nations, besetting three hundred 
 leagues of communication in his rear, were ready to intercept his retreat. No effort on the part of 
 England could have been too great in order to turn to the best account so extraordinary a combi- 
 nation of favorable circumstances, no demonstration of confidence too unreserved to an ally capa. 
 ble of such sacrifices. Can there be a doubt that such a vigorous demonstration would at once 
 have terminated the hesitations of Austria, revived the spirit of Prussia, and, by throwing a hund- 
 red thousand men on each flank of his line of communication, driven the French Emperor to a 
 ruinous retreat 1 Is it surprising that when, instead of such co-operation, Alexander, after the sac- 
 rifices he had made, met with nothing but refusals in his applications for assistance, and saw the 
 land-force of England wasted on useless distant expeditions, when every bayonet and sabre was of 
 value on the banks of the Alle, he should have conceived a distrust of the English alliance, and 
 formed the resolution of extricating himself as soon as possible from the hazardous conflict in 
 which he was now exclusively engaged 1" Alison's History of Europe, vol. ii., p. 516.
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLANIX 541 
 
 re-establishment of peace, so necessary to all nations. He only fears that 
 the power which, hitherto, seems to have made a system of founding its 
 wealth and greatness upon the divisions of the Continent, will draw from 
 this step new subjects of animosity and new pretexts for dissensions. How- 
 ever, any way that can encourage the hope of the cessation of bloodshed, 
 ought not to be neglected by France, which, as all Europe knows, was drag- 
 ged in spite of herself into this war." 
 
 At the same time, Napoleon called for a new levy of eighty thousand men. 
 But five months before he had called out the same number. He wished to 
 display such a force that the Allies would see that his defeat was impossi- 
 ble, and that they would consent to peace without further shedding of blood. 
 He wrote to Cambaceres ; " It is very important that this measure should 
 be adopted with alacrity. A single objection raised in the Council of State 
 or in the Senate would weaken me in Europe, and will bring Austria upon 
 us. Then, it will not be two conscriptions, but three or four, which we shall 
 be obliged to decree, perhaps to no purpose, and to be vanquished at last. 
 
 " A conscription, announced and resolved upon without hesitation, which 
 perhaps I shall not call for, which certainly I shall not send to the active 
 army, for I am not going to wage war with boys, will cause Austria to drop 
 her arms. The least hesitation, on the contrary, would induce her to resume 
 them, and to use them against us. No objection, I repeat, but an immediate 
 and punctual execution of the decree which I send you. This is the way to 
 have peace to have a speedy, a magnificent peace." 
 
 Having dispatched this decree to Paris, Napoleon sent a copy to Talley- 
 rand, requesting him to communicate to the Austrian government, without 
 circumlocution, that the Emperor had divined the drift of the mediation 
 which Austria had offered; that he accepted that mediation with a perfect 
 knowledge of what it signified ; that to offer peace was well, but that peace 
 should be offered with a white truncheon in the hand ; that the armaments 
 of Austria were a very unsuitable accompaniment to the offer of mediation. 
 
 " I thus," said he, " explain myself with frankness, to prevent calamities, 
 and to save Austria from them. If she wishes to send officers to ascertain 
 our strength, we engage to show them the depots, the camps of reserve, and 
 the divisions on the march. They shall see that, independently of the 100,000 
 French already in Germany, a second army of 100,000 men is preparing to 
 cross the Rhine, to check any hostile movements on the part of the court of 
 Vienna." These measures, so eminently sagacious, prevented Austria from 
 uniting with the Allies, and thus, for the time at least, prevented an accumu- 
 lation of the horrors of war. 
 
 The Bourbons of Spain were also still watching for an opportunity to fall 
 upon Napoleon. Believing it impossible for the French Emperor to escape 
 from his entanglements in Poland, surrounded by myriad foes, the Spanish 
 court treacherously summoned the nation to arms. Napoleon was a thou- 
 sand miles beyond the Rhine England had roused Spain to attack him in 
 the rear. The proclamation was issued the day before the battle of Jena. 
 That amazing victory alarmed the perfidious court of Ferdinand. With 
 characteristic meanness, the Spanish government immediately sent word to 
 Napoleon that the troops were raised to send to his assistance in case he 
 VOL. II. Q
 
 542 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 should stand in need of them. The Emperor smiled, and, affecting to be a 
 dupe, thanked Spain for its zeal, and requested the loan of fifteen thousand 
 troops. The troops could not be refused. 
 
 Napoleon wrote to have them received in the most friendly and hospitable 
 manner, and to be abundantly supplied with provisions, clothing, and money. 
 They were stationed in the garrisons of France, and French soldiers, drawn 
 from those garrisons, were called to Poland. These repeated acts of perfidy 
 led to the final dethronement of the Bourbons of Spain. Their overthrow 
 promoted the ruin of Napoleon. Their continuance upon the throne would 
 also have secured that ruin. It was written in the book of Divine decrees 
 that Napoleon must rise and fall. Human energy and wisdom could not 
 have averted his final discomfiture. Had Napoleon joined hands with the 
 feudal kings, and reigned the sovereign of the nobles, not of the people ; the 
 defender of privilege, not the advocate of equality, he might, perhaps, have 
 disarmed the hostility of despots, but he would also have lost the heart of 
 France. He fell magnificently ; but his memory is embalmed in the love of 
 the French people ; it never will perish. " St. Helena," says Napoleon, "was 
 written in the book of destiny." 
 
 The cheerless months of departing winter passed rapidly away, as both 
 parties prepared for the renewal of the strife. Napoleon shared the encamp- 
 ment of his troops. He taught them patience and fortitude by enduring 
 himself every privation which they were called to experience. His brother 
 Joseph, in a letter, complained of hardships in Naples. Napoleon, in the 
 following terms, replied to his complaints : 
 
 " The officers of our staff have not undressed for these two months, and 
 some not for four months past. I myself have been a fortnight without tak- 
 ing off my boots. We are amid snow and mud, without wine, without 
 bread, eating potatoes and meat, making long marches and countermarches, 
 without any kind of comfort, fighting in general with bayonets and under 
 grape, the wounded having to be carried away in sledges, exposed to the air, 
 two hundred miles." 
 
 Napoleon established his head-quarters in a wretched barn at a place called 
 Osterode. "If, instead of remaining in a hole like Osterode," says Savary, 
 ** where every one was under his eye, and where he could set his whole force 
 in motion, the Emperor had established himself in a great town, it would 
 have required three months to do what he effected in less than one." 
 
 Here Napoleon not only attended to all the immense interests which were 
 gathered round him, but he also devoted incessant thought to the govern- 
 ment of his distant empire. The portfolios of the several ministers were 
 sent to him from Paris every week. Upon the day of their reception he in- 
 variably attended to their contents, and returned them with minute directions 
 The most trivial as well as the most important matters were subject to his 
 scrutiny, There had been composed in his honor verses, which he deemed 
 bad, and which were recited in the theatres. He requested other verses to 
 be substituted, in which he was less praised, but which gave utterance to no- 
 ble thoughts. 
 
 ; ' The best way to praise me" said he, " is to write things which excite he 
 roic sentiments in the nation "
 
 1807.] 
 
 THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 
 
 5*3 
 
 HEAD-QUARTERS AT OSTERODE. 
 
 With great care he studied the proceedings of the French Academy. At 
 one of those meetings the memory of Mirabeau was violently assailed. Na- 
 poleon wrote to Fouche : " I recommend to you, let there be no reaction in 
 the public opinion. Let Mirabeau be mentioned in terms of praise. There 
 are many things in that meeting of the Academy which do not please me. 
 When shall we grow wiser ? When shall we be animated by that genuine 
 Christian charity which shall lead us to desire to abuse no one ? When shall 
 we refrain from awaking recollections which send sorrow to the hearts of so 
 many persons ?" 
 
 With intense interest he watched the progress of education. In reference 
 to the institution for the education of girls at Ecouen, he wrote to Lacepede : 
 " It is there proposed to train up women, wives, mothers of families. Make 
 believers of them not reasoners. The weakness of the brain of women, the 
 mobility of their ideas, their destination in the social order, the necessity for 
 inspiring them with a perpetual resignation, and a mild and easy charity all 
 this renders the influence of religion indispensable for them. I am anxious 
 that they should leave the institution, not fashionable belles, but virtuous 
 women that their attractive qualities may be those of the heart." 
 
 He urged that they should study " history, literature, enough of natural 
 philosophy to be able to dispel the popular ignorance, around them, some- 
 what of medicine, botany, dancing but not that of the Opera ciphering, and 
 all sorts of needle-work "
 
 544 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 " Their apartments," he wrote, " must be furnished by their own hands. 
 They must make their chemises, their stockings, their dresses, their caps, 
 and they must be able, in case of need, to make clothes for their infants. I 
 wish to make these young girls useful women. I am certain that I shall 
 thus make them agreeable and attractive." 
 
 He was informed that Madame de Stael had returned to Paris, and that 
 she was striving to excite hostility against his government. He ordered her 
 to be expelled. Some of his friends urged him not to do so. He persisted, 
 saying that if he did not interfere she would compromise good citizens, whom 
 he would afterward be compelled to treat with severity. 
 
 Of Madame de Stael Napoleon said at St. Helena, " She was a woman of 
 considerable talent and of great ambition, but so extremely intriguing and 
 restless as to give rise to the observation that she would throw her friends 
 into the sea, that, at the moment of drowning, she might have an opportuni- 
 ty of saving them. I was obliged to banish her from court. She was ardent 
 in her passions, vehement and extravagant in her expressions. She com- 
 bined all her resources to make an impression upon the general of the army 
 of Italy. Without any acquaintance with him, she wrote to him when afar 
 off; she tormented him when present. If she was to be believed, the union 
 of genius with a little insignificant Creole, incapable of appreciating or com- 
 prehending him, was a monstrosity. Unfortunately, the general's only an- 
 swer was an indifference which women never forgive, and which, indeed,'' 
 Napoleon remarked with a smile, " is hardly to be forgiven. 
 
 " Shortly after my return from the conquest of Italy," he continued, " I 
 was accosted by Madame de Stael at a grand entertainment given by M. 
 Talleyrand. She challenged me, in the middle of a numerous circle, to tell 
 her who was the greatest woman in the world. I looked at her, and coldly 
 replied, ' She, madame, who has borne the greatest number of children.' 
 Madame de Stael was at first a little disconcerted ; she endeavored to recov- 
 er herself by observing that it was reported that I was not very fond of wom- 
 en. 'Pardon me, madame,' I replied, 'I am very fond of my wife.' I can 
 not call her a wicked woman, but she was a restless intriguer, possessed of 
 considerable talent and influence." 
 
 Again he said of Madame de Stael : " Her house had become quite an 
 arsenal against me. People went there to be armed knights. She endeav- 
 ored to raise enemies against me, and fought against me herself. She was 
 at once Armida and Clorinda. After all, it can not be denied that Madame 
 de Stael is a very distinguished woman, endowed with great talents, and 
 possessing a very considerable share of wit. She will go down to posterity. 
 It was more than once intimated to me, in order to soften me in her favor, 
 that she was an adversary to be feared, and might become a useful ally. 
 And certainly if, instead of reviling me as she did, she had spoken in my 
 praise, it might, no doubt, have proved advantageous to me. Her position 
 and her abilities gave her an absolute sway over the saloons. Their influ- 
 ence in Paris is well known. Notwithstanding all she had said against me, 
 and all that she will yet say, I am certainly far from thinking that she has a 
 oad heart. The fact is, that she and I have waged a little war against each 
 other, and that is all."
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 545 
 
 He then added, in reference to the numerous writers who had declaimed 
 against him, " I am destined to be their food. I have but little fear of be- 
 coming their victim. They will bite against granite. My history is made 
 up of facts, and words alone can not destroy them. In order to fight against 
 me successfully, somebody should appear in the lists armed with the weight 
 and authority of facts on his side. It would then, perhaps, be time for me to 
 be moved. But as for all other writers, whatever be their talent, their efforts 
 will be in vain. My fame will survive. When they wish to be admired, 
 they will sound my praise." 
 
 While at Osterode, nothing seemed to be overlooked by Napoleon's all- 
 comprehensive and untiring energies. 
 
 To the Minister of the Interior he wrote : "An effective mode of encour- 
 aging literature would be to establish a journal, of which the criticism is en- 
 lightened, actuated by good intentions, and free of that coarse brutality which 
 characterizes the existing newspapers, and which is so contrary to the true 
 interests of the nation. Journals now never criticise with the intention of 
 repressing mediocrity, guiding inexperience, or encouraging rising merit. 
 All their endeavor is to wither, to destroy.- Articles should be selected for 
 the journals where reasoning is mingled with eloquence, where praise for 
 deserved merit is tempered with censure for faults. Merit, however incon- 
 siderate, should be sought for and rewarded." 
 
 Again he wrote : "You should occupy yourself with the project of estab- 
 lishing a university for literature understanding by that word not merely 
 the belles-lettres, but history and geography. It should consist of at least 
 thirty professorships, so linked together as to exhibit a living picture of in- 
 struction and direction, where every one who wishes to study a particular 
 age should know at once whom to consult what books, monuments, or 
 chronicles to examine where every one who wishes to travel should know 
 where to receive positive instructions as to the government, literature, and 
 physical productions of the country which he is about to visit. 
 
 " It is a lamentable fact, that in this great country, a young man who 
 wishes to study, or is desirous to signalize himself in any department, is 
 obliged for long to grope in the dark, and literally to lose years in fruitless 
 researches before he discovers the true repositories of the information for 
 which he seeks. I desire such institutions. They have long formed the 
 subject of my meditations, because in the course of my various labors I have 
 repeatedly experienced their want." 
 
 A vast number of plans for the Temple of the Madeleine were sent to 
 him. He wrote: "After having attentively considered the different plans 
 submitted to my examination, I have not felt the smallest doubt as to which 
 I should adopt. That of M. Vignon alone fulfills my wishes. It is a temple 
 which I desire, not a church. What could you erect as a church which 
 could vie with the Pantheon, Notre Dame, or, above all, with St. Peter's at 
 Rome ? Every thing in the temple should be in a chaste, severe, and dur- 
 able style. It should be fitted for solemnities at all times, at all hours. The 
 imperial throne should be a curule chair of marble. There should be seats 
 of marble for the persons invited, an amphitheatre of marble for the per- 
 formers. No furniture should be admitted but cushions for the seats. All
 
 546 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 should be of granite, of marble, and of iron. With this view, searches should 
 be made in all the provinces for quarries of marble and granite. They will 
 be useful, not merely for this monument, but for others which I have in view, 
 and which will require thirty, forty, or fifty years for their construction. 
 Not more than $600,000 should be required. The temple of Athens cost 
 not much more than one half that sum. Three millions of dollars ave 
 been absorbed, I know not how, in the Pantheon. But I should not object 
 to the expenditure of a million of dollars for the construction of a temple 
 worthy of the first city in the world." 
 
 Thus arose the exquisite structure of the Madeleine. Napoleon reared it 
 in honor of the Grand Army. He, however, secretly intended it as an ex- 
 piatory monument to Louis XVI., Maria Antoinette, and the other victims 
 of the Revolution. He intended thus to announce it, and to dedicate it as 
 soon as the fervor of revolutionary passion had sufficiently abated. 
 
 THE MADELEINE. 
 
 Napoleon learned that M. Berthollet, a man whom he particularly es- 
 teemed for his scientific attainments, was in some pecuniary embarrassment. 
 He immediately wrote him, " I am informed that you are in need of thirty 
 thousand dollars. My treasurer has an order to place that sum at your dis- 
 posal. I am very glad to find this occasion to be useful to you, and to give 
 you a proof of my esteem." 
 
 He was informed by the correspondence, which he paid for liberally and 
 read with care, that there was a quarrel in the Opera. There was a dispo- 
 sition to persecute a poor machinist in consequence of the failure of some
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 547 
 
 decorations which he was preparing. Napoleon wrote to the Minister of 
 
 Police, " I will not have wrangling any where. I will not suffer M to 
 
 be the victim of an accident. My custom is to protect the unfortunate. 
 Whether actresses ascend into the clouds or ascend not, I will not allow 
 that to be made a handle for intriguing." 
 
 Severe, and, as Napoleon thought, mischievous attacks were made in two 
 of the public journals upon the philosophers. He wrote, " It is necessary to 
 have discreet men at the head of those papers. Those two journals affect 
 religion even to bigotry. Instead of attacking the excesses of the exclusive 
 system of some philosophers, they attack philosophy and human knowledge. 
 Instead of keeping the productions of the age within bounds by sound crit- 
 icism, they discourage those productions, depreciate and debase them." 
 
 His admirable foresight and energy had soon provided the army with all 
 the comforts which could be enjoyed in a rude encampment. The Russians, 
 on the other hand, were almost starving. They wandered about in maraud- 
 ing bands, pillaging the villages, and committing the most frightful excesses. 
 Sometimes, driven by hunger, they came even to the French encampments 
 and begged bread of the French soldiers. By signs they expressed that for 
 several days they had eaten nothing. The soldiers received them as broth- 
 ers, and fed them bountifully. 
 
 To promote industry in Paris, Napoleon gave orders for an immense quan- 
 tity of shoes, boots, harness, and gun carriages to be made there. To trans- 
 port these articles from France to the heart of Poland, through hostile coun- 
 tries infested by prowling bands of shattered armies, he devised a plan as in- 
 genious and effective as it was simple. He had been impressed, in the quag- 
 mires through which his army had advanced, with the little zeal which the 
 drivers of the baggage-wagons evinced, and their want of courage in danger. 
 He had previously, with great success, given a military organization to the 
 artillery-drivers. He now r resolved to do the same with the baggage-drivers. 
 These men, who had previously been but humble day-laborers, now became 
 a proud corps of the army, with the honorable title of Battalion of the Train. 
 They were dressed in uniform. A new sentiment of honor sprang up in 
 their hearts. It was a two months' journey from Paris to the Vistula. They 
 protected their equipages, freighted with treasure, and urged them on with 
 the same zeal with which the artillerymen defended their guns, and the in- 
 fantry and cavalry their flags. Animated by that enthusiasm which Napo- 
 leon had thus breathed into their hearts, they now appeared insensible to 
 danger or fatigue. 
 
 Such were the multitude of objects to which Napoleon directed his atten- 
 tion. The eyes of all Europe were fixed upon him during his encampment 
 amid the snows of Poland. His enemies were awed by his energy and his 
 achievements. His distant empire was as perfectly and as minutely under 
 his government as if he were spending his days in his cabinet at the Tuiler- 
 ies. Though thus laden w T ith a burden of toil and care such as never before 
 rested upon a mortal mind, rarely did he allow a day to pass without writing 
 a line to Josephine. Often he sent to her twice a day a brief note of remem- 
 brance and of love. The following are a few of his letters :
 
 548 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 " Posen, December 2, 180G. 
 
 " It is the anniversary of Austerlitz. I have been to an assembly in the 
 city. It rains. I am well. I love you and desire you. The Polish ladies 
 are all French, but there is only one woman for me. Would you like to 
 know her ? I might, indeed, draw you her portrait, but I should have to flat- 
 ter the portrait itself quite too much before you could recognize yourself in 
 it. These nights here are long, all alone. Entirely thine, NAPOLEON." 
 
 " Posen, December 3, 1806, noon. 
 
 " I have received yours of November 26. Two things I observe in it. 
 You say I do not read your letters. This is an unkind thought. I do not 
 thank you for so unfavorable an opinion. You also tell me that that neglect 
 must be caused by some dream of another. And yet you add that you are 
 not jealous. I have long observed that angry people insist that they are not 
 angry ; that those who are frightened say that they have no fear. You are 
 thus convicted of jealousy. I am delighted. As to this matter, you are 
 wrong. I think of any thing rather than that. In the deserts of Poland one 
 has little opportunity to dream of beauty. I gave a ball yesterday to the no- 
 bility of the province. There were enough fine women, many rich, many 
 badly dressed, although in Parisian fashion. Adieu, my love. I am well. 
 Entirely thine, NAPOLEON-" 
 
 " Posen, December 3, 6 o'clock, evening. 
 
 " I have received your letter of November 27, in which I perceive that 
 your little head is quite turned. I often recall the line, 
 
 " ' Woman's longing is a consuming flame.' 
 
 You must calm yourself. I have written to you that I am in Poland, and 
 that as soon as our winter quarters are established you can come. We must 
 wait some days. The greater one becomes, the less can he have his own 
 way. The ardor of your letter shows me that all you beautiful women rec- 
 ognize no barriers. Whatever you wish must be. - As for me, I declare I 
 am the veriest slave. My master has no compassion. That master is the 
 nature of things. Adieu, my love. Be happy. The one of whom 1 wish to 
 
 speak to you is Madame L . Every one censures her. They assure me 
 
 she is more a Prussian than a French woman. I do not believe it. But I 
 think her a silly woman, and one who says only silly things. Thine entirely, 
 
 " NAPOLEQN." 
 
 " Golimin, Dec. 29, 1806, 5 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 " I can write you but a word, my love. I am in a wretched barn. I have 
 beaten the Russians. We have taken from them 30 pieces of cannon, their 
 baggage, and 6000 prisoners. The weather is dismal. It rains. We are 
 in mud up to our knees. In two days we shall be at Warsaw, from which 
 place I will write to you. Wholly thine, NAPOLEON." 
 
 "Warsaw, January 18, 1807. 
 
 " I fear that you are greatly disappointed that our separation must still be 
 prolonged for several weeks. I expect of you more force of character.
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 549 
 
 They tell me that you weep continually. Fy ! How unbecoming that is. 
 Your letter of the 7th of January gave me much pain. Be worthy of me, 
 and show more force of character. Make a suitable appearance at Paris, 
 and, above all, be contented. I am very well, and I love you very much ; 
 but if you continually weep, I shall think you to be without courage and 
 without character. I do not love the spiritless. An empress should have 
 energy. NAPOLEON." 
 
 " January 23, 1807. 
 
 "I have received your letter of the 15th of January. It is impossible that 
 I should permit ladies to undertake such a journey wretched roads, miry 
 and dangerous. Return to Paris. Be there cheerful, contented. I could 
 but smile at your remark that you took a husband in order to live with him. 
 I thought, in my ignorance, that woman was made for man ; man for his 
 country, his family, and glory. Pardon my ignorance. One is continually 
 learning with our beautiful ladies. Adieu, my love. Think how much I 
 suffer in not being able to call you here. Say to yourself, ' It is a proof how 
 I am precious to him.' NAPOLEON." 
 
 Without date. 
 
 " My love ! Your letter of the 20th of January has given me much pain. 
 It is too sad. Behold the evil of not being a little devout. You tell me that 
 your happiness makes your glory. That is not generous. You ought to 
 say, The happiness of others is my glory. That is not conjugal. You must 
 say, The happiness of my husband is my glory. That is not maternal. You 
 should say, The happiness of my children is my glory. But since others, 
 your husband, your children, can not be happy without a little glory, you 
 should not say fy ! at it so much. Josephine, your heart is excellent, but 
 your reason feeble. Your perceptions are exquisite, but your deliberations 
 are less wise. 
 
 " Enough of fault-finding. I wish that you should be cheerful, contented 
 with your lot, and that you should obey, not murmuring and weeping, but 
 with alacrity of heart and with some degree of satisfaction with all. Adieu, 
 my love. I leave to-night to run through my advance posts. 
 
 " NAPOLEON." 
 
 From his rude encampment at Osterode he wrote, the 27th of March, "I 
 desire, more strongly than you can, to see you, and to live in tranquillity. I 
 am interested in other things besides war. But duty is paramount over 
 all. All my life I have sacrificed tranquillity, interest, happiness, to my des- 
 tiny." 
 
 The Emperor was exceedingly attached to the little Napoleon, to whom 
 he often refers in his letters. He was the son of Hortense and of his brother 
 Louis. The boy, five years of age, was exceedingly beautiful, and developed 
 all those energetic and magnanimous traits of character which would win, in 
 the highest degree, the admiration of Napoleon. The Emperor had decided 
 to make this young prince his heir. All thoughts of the divorce were now 
 relinquished. Early in the spring of this year the child was suddenly taken
 
 550 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 sick of the croup, and died. The sad tidings were conveyed to Napoleon in 
 his cheerless stable at Osterode. It was a terrible blow to his hopes and to 
 his affections. He sat down in silence, buried his face in his hands, and for 
 a long time seemed lost in painful musings. No one ventured to disturb his 
 grief. 
 
 Napoleon was now the most powerful monarch in Europe. But he was 
 without an heir. His death would plunge France into anarchy, as ambitious 
 chieftains, each surrounded by his partisans, would struggle for the throne. 
 Mournfully and anxiously he murmured to himself, again and again, " To 
 whom shall I leave all this." Napoleon was ambitious. He wished to send 
 down his name to posterity as the greatest benefactor France had ever 
 known. To accomplish this, he was ready to sacrifice comfort, health, his 
 affections, and that which he deemed least of all, his life. He loved Jose- 
 phine above all other created beings. He deceived himself by the belief that 
 it would be indeed a noble sacrifice to France to bind, as an offering upon 
 the altar of his country, even their undying love. He knew that the ques- 
 tion of the divorce would again arise. The struggle now resumed in his 
 heart between his love for Josephine and his desire to found a stable dynasty, 
 and to transmit his name to posterity, was fearful. Strong as was his self- 
 control, his anguish was betrayed by his pallid cheek, his restless eye, his 
 loss of appetite and of sleep. 
 
 To Josephine, apprehensive of the result, the bereavement was inexpress- 
 ibly dreadful. Overwhelmed with anguish, she wept day and night. This 
 little boy, Charles Napoleon, Prince Royal of Holland, died at the Hague, 
 5th of May, 1807. He was the elder brother of Louis Napoleon, now Em- 
 peror of France. Upon receiving the intelligence of his death, Napoleon 
 thus wrote to Josephine : 
 
 "May 14, 1807. 
 
 " I can appreciate the grief which the death of poor Napoleon has caused 
 you. You can understand the anguish which I experience. I could wish 
 that I were with you, that you might become moderate and discreet in your 
 grief. You have had the happiness of never losing any children. But it is 
 one of the conditions and sorrows attached to suffering humanity. Let me 
 hear that you have become reasonable and tranquil. Would you magnify 
 my anguish ? Adieu, my love. NAPOLEON." 
 
 In the following terms he wrote to Hortense : 
 
 " My daughter ! Every thing which reaches me from the Hague informs 
 me that you are unreasonable. However legitimate may be your grief, it 
 should have its bounds. Do not impair your health. Seek consolation. 
 Know that life is strewed with so many dangers, and may be the source of 
 so many calamities, that death is by no means the greatest of evils. 
 
 " Your affectionate father, NAPOLEON. 
 
 " Finkenstein, May 20, 1807." 
 
 Four days after he thus wrote to Josephine :
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 531 
 
 " May 24, 1807. 
 
 " I have received your letter from Lacken. I see, with pain, that your 
 grief is still unabated, and that Hortense is not yet with you. She is un- 
 reasonable, and merits not to be loved, since she loves but her children. 
 Strive to calm yourself, and give me no more pain. For every irremediable 
 evil we must find consolation. Adieu, my love. Wholly thine, 
 
 "NAPOLEON." 
 
 Again he writes to Hortense on the 2d of June : 
 
 " My daughter ! You have not written me one word in your just and 
 great grief. You have forgotten every thing, as if you had no other loss to 
 endure. I am informed that you no longer love that you are indifferent to 
 every thing. I perceive it by your silence. That is not right. It is not 
 what you promised me. Your mother and I are nothing, then. Had I been 
 at Malmaison, I should have shared your anguish ; but I should also wish 
 that you would restore yourself to your best friends. Adieu, my daughter. 
 Be cheerful. We must learn resignation. Cherish your health, that you 
 may be able to fulfill all your duties. My wife is very sad in view of your 
 condition. Do not add to her anguish. 
 
 . " Your affectionate father, NAPOLEON." 
 
 Again he wrote : 
 
 " My daughter! I have received your letter dated Orleans. Your griefs 
 touch my heart. But I would wish that you would summon more fortitude. 
 To live is to suffer. The sincere man struggles incessantly to gain the vic- 
 tory over himself. I do not love to see you unjust toward the little Louis 
 Napoleon, and toward all your friends. Your mother and I cherish the hope 
 to be more in your heart than we are. I have gained a great victory on the 
 14th of June. I am well, and I love you intensely. Adieu, my daughter! 
 I embrace you with my whole heart. NAPOLEON." 
 
 Whde Napoleon was encamped upon the snows of Poland, waiting for 
 the return of spring, all his energies of body and mind were incessantly act- 
 ive. Often he made the rounds of his cantonments, riding upon horseback 
 ninety miles a day, through storms, and snow, and mire. He was daily in 
 correspondence with his agents for the recruiting of his army, and for the 
 transportation of the enormous supplies which they required. He kept a 
 watchful eye upon every thing transpiring in Paris, and guided all the move- 
 ments of the government there. During the long winter nights he was ru- 
 minating upon the general policy he should adopt in disarming enemies, in 
 rewarding friends, in forming alliances, and in shielding France from further 
 insults. 
 
 England now made the desperate endeavor to force Turkey into the alii, 
 ance against France. Failing entirely to accomplish this by diplomacy, she 
 resorted to measures which no one has had the boldness to defend.* An En- 
 
 * "Mr- Wellesley Pole, in the absence of Mr. Arbuthnot, the British minister," says Alison,
 
 552 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 glish fleet forced the Dardanelles, scorning the feeble batteries of the Turks. 
 The squadron anchored in front of Constantinople, with its guns pointed at 
 its thronged dwellings. The summons was laconic : " Dismiss the French 
 minister, surrender your fleet to us, and join our alliance against France, or 
 in one half hour we will lay your city in ashes." 
 
 But Napoleon had placed in Constantinople an embassador equal to the 
 emergence. General Sebastiani roused all the vigor of the Turkish govern* 
 ment. He beguiled the foe into a parley. While this parley was protract. 
 ed day after day, the whole population of the city men, women, and chiL 
 dren, Turks, Greeks, and Armenians threw themselves into the work of 
 rearing defenses. French engineers guided the laborers. In less than a 
 week 917 pieces of cannon and 200 mortars were frowning upon the bat- 
 teries. The squadron was now compelled to retreat. With difficulty it 
 forced its way back, through the Strait, pelted all the way by the feeble bat- 
 teries of the Turks. The English lost in this audacious expedition two hund- 
 red and fifty men. The Turks, thus influenced, became more cordially al- 
 lied to France. Napoleon was extremely gratified at the result. 
 
 Twenty-five thousand of the Allies had intrenched themselves in Dantzic. 
 The conquest of the city was a matter of great moment to Napoleon. The 
 conduct of the siege was intrusted to Marshal Lefebvre. He was a brave 
 officer, but an ignorant man. He was extremely 1 impatient of the slow prog- 
 ress of the engineers, and was restless to head his troops and rush to the as- 
 sault. Napoleon, with his head-quarters about a hundred miles from Dant' 
 zic, kept up a daily correspondence with his marshal upon the progress of 
 the works. It frequently, during the siege, became necessary for Napoleon 
 personally to interpose to settle disputes between Marshal Lefebvre and his 
 officers. The following letter to the impetuous soldier finely develops the 
 prudence and the candor of the Emperor : \ 
 
 "You can do nothing but find fault, abuse our allies, and change your 
 opinion at the pleasure of the first comer. You wanted troops. I sent you 
 them. I am preparing more for you ; and you, like an ingrate, continue to 
 complain, without thinking even of thanking me. You treat our allies, espe- 
 cially the Poles and the Baden troops, without any delicacy. They are not 
 used to stand fire ; but they will get accustomed to it. Do you imagine that 
 we were as brave in '92 as we are now, after fifteen years of war ? Have 
 some indulgence, then, old soldier as you are, for the young soldiers who are 
 starting in the career, and who have not yet your coolness in danger. The 
 Prince of Baden, whom you have with you, has chosen to leave the pleas- 
 ures of the court for the purpose of leading his troops into fire. 
 
 " Pay him respect, and give him credit for a zeal which his equals rarely 
 imitate. The breasts of your grenadiers, which you are for bringing in every 
 where, will not throw down walls. You must allow your engineers to act, 
 
 "who was sick of fever presented himself before the Divan in his riding-dress, with a whip in his 
 hand, and peremptorily announced that if the demands of Russia were not instantly acceded to, a 
 British fleet would enter the Dardanelles, and lay the capital in ashes. Intimidated by this bold 
 language and by the haughty air of the person who used it, and secretly aware of the weakness of 
 the defenses of the capital, the counselors of Selim recommended a temporary concession to the de- 
 mands of the allied powers." This is surely a novel exhibition of diplomatic courtesy, and on 
 which would perhaps have more influence in Turkey than in some other latitudes.
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 553 
 
 and listen to the advice of General Chasseloup, who is a man of science, and 
 from whom you ought not to withdraw your confidence at the suggestion of 
 the first petty caviler, pretending to judge of what he is incapable of com 
 prehending. Reserve the courage of your grenadiers for the moment when 
 science shall tell you that it may be usefully employed ; and, in the mean 
 time, learn patience. It is not worth while, for the sake of a few days, 
 which, besides, I know not how to employ just now, to get some thousand 
 men killed whose lives it is possible to spare Show the calmness, the con- 
 sistency, the steadiness which befit your age Your glory is in taking Dant- 
 zic. Take that place, and you shall be satisfied with me." 
 
 On the 26th of May, Dantzic capitulated, after a terrific conflict of fifty- 
 one days. From the abundant stores which the Allies had gathered there, 
 Napoleon immediately sent a million of bottles of wine to his troops in their 
 cantonments. While the snows were melting, and the frost yielding to the 
 returning sun of spring, it was hardly possible for either army to resume 
 hostilities. The heavy cannon could not be drawn through the miry roads. 
 Though Napoleon was fifteen hundred miles from his capital, in a hostile 
 country, and with Russia, Prussia, Sweden, and England combined against 
 him, his genius, his foresight, his indefatigable activity supplied his troops 
 with every comfort. The allied army was, on the contrary, suffering every 
 privation. The starving soldiers, to appease the cravings of want, desolated 
 extended tracts of country with violence and plunder. 
 
 The allied army now consisted of 140,000 men, of which 100,000 could 
 be speedily concentrated upon a field of battle. Napoleon, with 400,000 
 men dispersed along his extended line of march, and stationed in the for- 
 tresses of his wide frontier, could, in a few days, concentrate 160,000 men 
 upon any spot between the Niemen and the Vistula. With his accustomed 
 vigilance and forecast, early in May he ordered all the divisions of his army 
 to take the field, and to be daily exercised in preparation for the resumption 
 of hostilities. 
 
 Early in June the Allies made a sudden rush from their intrenchments, 
 hoping to surround and overwhelm the division of Marshal Ney. This was 
 the signal for Napoleon's whole army, extended along a line of one hundred 
 and fifty miles, to advance and to concentrate. They did advance. The 
 opposing hosts every where met The roar of musketry and of artillery, the 
 rush of squadrons, and the clash of sabres, resounded by day and by night. 
 Napoleon had matured all his plans. With iron energy he drove on to the 
 result. By skillful maneuvering, he every where outnumbered his foes. 
 Over mountains, across rivers, through defiles and forests, he pursued the 
 retiring foe. 
 
 Field after field was red with blood. Mothers, with their babes, fled from 
 their homes before the sweep of this awful avalanche of woe. In each vil- 
 lage the Russians made a stand. For an hour the tempest of war roared 
 and flashed around the doomed dwellings. The crash of cannon balls, the 
 explosion of shells, the storm of bullets speedily did its work. From the 
 smouldering ruins the panting, bleeding Russians fled. In the blazing streets 
 horsemen and footmen met, hand to hand, in the desperate fight. Ten thou. 
 sand homes were utterly desolated Women and children were struck by
 
 554 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 bullets and balls. Fields of grain were trampled in the mire. Still the 
 storm of war swept on and swept on, mercilessly, unrelentingly. Regard- 
 less of prayers and tears, and blood and woe, barbarian Russians fled, and 
 ferocious Frenchmen pursued. 
 
 Every vile man on earth loves the army and the license of war. No earth- 
 ly power can restrain the desperadoes who throng the rank and file of con- 
 tending hosts. From such an inundation of depraved and reckless men there 
 is no escape. The farm-house, the village, the city is alike exposed. Hu- 
 manity shudders in contemplating the atrocities which are perpetrated. The 
 carnage of the field of battle is the very least of the calamities of war. Na- 
 poleon was indefatigable in his efforts. His energy appeared superhuman. 
 He seemed neither to eat, nor sleep, nor rest. He was regardless of rain, 
 of mud, of darkness, of storms. Horse after horse sunk beneath him, as, 
 with his staff, like a whirlwind he swept along his lines, rousing, animating, 
 energizing his mighty hosts, advancing over a space of fifty leagues. 
 
 It was on the 5th of June that the storm of war commenced. Day and 
 night it continued unabated, as the Russians, fighting with desperation, sul- 
 lenly retreated before their foes. On the 10th the Allies had concentrated, 
 upon the field of Heilsberg, on the banks of the River Alle, 90,000 men. 
 Here they planted themselves firmly behind intrenchments, fortified by five 
 hundred pieces of heavy artillery. These were loaded to the muzzle with 
 grape-shot to mow down the French advancing over the open plain. 
 
 In utter recklessness of life, 30,000 Frenchmen, rending the skies with 
 their wild hurrahs, rushed upon the muzzles of these guns. Murat and Ney 
 headed the desperate assault. Napoleon was not there to witness a scene 
 of butchery so inexcusable. The Russian batteries opened upon the bare 
 bosoms of these moving masses, and the whole heads of columns were swept 
 away. Still on and on the impetuous host rushed, with oaths and shouts, 
 wading through blood, and trampling over piles of the slain. They pour 
 over the intrenchments, sabre the gunners, shout victory. 
 
 Suddenly the tramp of iron hoofs is heard. Trumpets sound the charge. 
 A squadron of horse, ten thousand strong, sweeps down upon the French 
 with resistless plunge. The shout of victory sinks away into the wail of 
 death. The French who had scaled the ramparts were overwhelmed, annu 
 hilated. Thus the tide of battle ebbed and flowed all day long. Night 
 came. Dense volumes of smoke canopied the field of demoniac war with 
 the sulphurous gloom of the world of woe. By the light of the cannon's 
 flash the surges of battle still rolled to and fro. Clouds gathered in the 
 black sky. A dismal rain began to fall, as if Nature herself wept over the 
 crimes of the children of earth. Midnight came. The booming of the guns 
 gradually ceased, as the soldiers, utterly exhausted with a conflict of twelve 
 hours, threw themselves, amid the dying and the dead, upon the storm- 
 drenched and gory ground. Late in the night Napoleon came galloping 
 upon the field. He was exceedingly displeased at the senseless butchery to 
 which his impetuous generals had led the men. 
 
 The dawn of a gloomy morning of wind and rain revealed to both armies 
 an awful spectacle. The two hostile hosts were within half cannon shot of 
 each other. The narrow space between was covered with eighteen thousand
 
 1807.] THE MARCH TO FRIEDLAND. 555 
 
 of the dead and wounded. All the dead and many of the wounded had been 
 stripped entirely naked by those wretches, both male and female, who ever, 
 in great numbers, follow in the wake of armies for such plunder. These 
 naked bodies, crimsoned with gore, mutilated by balls and by ghastly sabre 
 strokes, presented an aspect of war stripped of all its pageantry. By mutual, 
 instinctive consent, both parties laid aside their guns, and hastened to the 
 relief of the wounded and to the burial of the dead. How strange the scene! 
 Russians and Frenchmen were now mingled together upon the same field, 
 in perfect amity, vying with each other in deeds of kindness. 
 
 Each army then resumed its position to renew the fight. The Russians 
 rallied behind their intrenchments, the French upon the open plain. Napo- 
 leon, ever anxious to spare the needless effusion of blood, so skillfully ma- 
 neuvered, preparing to attack his foes in the rear, that the Russians were 
 soon compelled, without the firing of a gun, to abandon their position and 
 to continue their retreat. All the night of the 12th of June the Russians 
 were precipitately retiring. Though dreadfully fatigued, they continued their 
 flight the whole of the next day. They were compelled to make another 
 stand upon the plain of Friedland. Their doom was sealed. Napoleon had 
 driven them into the elbow of a river, and had so skillfully drawn together 
 his forces as to render their escape impossible. 
 
 Early in the morning of the 14th the battle of Friedland commenced. 
 The division of Lannes was in the advance. The Russian army fell upon 
 it with the utmost energy, hoping to secure its destruction before the other 
 divisions of the French army could come to its relief. Napoleon was ten 
 miles distant when he heard the first deep booming of the cannon. He sent 
 in every direction for his battalions to hasten to the scene of conflict. At 
 noon Napoleon galloped upon the heights which overlooked the field. As 
 he saw the position of the enemy, hemmed in by the bend of the river, and 
 his own troops marching up on every side, a gleam of joy lighted up his 
 features. 
 
 "This," he exclaimed, "is the 14th of June. It is the anniversary of 
 Marengo. It is a lucky day for us." 
 
 The French, during the morning, had been contending against fearful odds. 
 Lannes. with 26,000 men, had withstood the assault of the whole Russian 
 army of 80,000. As Napoleon appeared upon the heights, General Oudinot, 
 plunging his spurs into his horse, hastened to the Emperor, exclaiming, 
 " Make haste, sire ! My grenadiers are utterly exhausted. But give me a 
 re-enforcement, and I w ill drive all the Russians into the river." The clothes 
 of the intrepid soldier were perforated with balls, and his horse was covered 
 with blood. Napoleon glanced proudly at him, and then, with his glass, 
 carefully and silently surveyed the field of battle. One of his officers ven- 
 tured to suggest that it would be best to defer the battle for a few hours, un- 
 til the rest of the troops had arrived and had obtained a little rest. " No, 
 no !" Napoleon replied, energetically ; " one does not catch an enemy twice 
 in such a scrape." 
 
 Calling his lieutenants around him, he explained to them his plan of at- 
 tack with that laconic force and precison of language which no man has ever 
 surpassed. Grasping the arm of Marshal Ney, and pointing to the little
 
 556 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CllAP. XXXV. 
 
 town of Frieclland, and the dense masses of the Russians crowded before it, 
 he said, emphatically, 
 
 " Yonder is the goal. March to it without looking about you. Break 
 into that thick mass, whatever it costs. Enter Friedland; take the bridges, 
 and give yourself no concern about what may happen on your right, your 
 left, or your rear. The army and I shall be there to attend to that." 
 
 Ney, proud of the desperate enterprise assigned him, set out on the gallop 
 to head his troops. Napoleon followed with his eye this " bravest of the 
 brave." Impressed by his martial attitude, he exclaimed, " That man is a 
 lion." Ney's division of 14,000 men, with a solid tramp which seemed to 
 shake the plain, hurled itself upon the foe. At the same signal the whole 
 French line advanced. It was a spectacle of awful sublimity. One inces- 
 sant roar of battle, louder than the heaviest thunders, shook the plain. Na- 
 poleon stood in the centre of the divisions which he held in reserve. A large 
 cannon ball came whistling over their heads, just above the bayonets of the 
 troops. A young soldier instinctively dodged. Napoleon looked at him, 
 and smiling, said, " My friend, if that ball were destined for you, though you 
 were to burrow a hundred feet under ground, it would be sure to find you 
 there." 
 
 Friedland was soon in flames, and Ney in possession of its blazing dwell- 
 ings and its bloodstained streets. As the darkness of night came on, the 
 scene was indescribably awful. The Russians, having lost 25,000 men in 
 killed and wounded, retreated toward the river, pursued by the victorious 
 French, who were plowing their ranks incessantly with grape-shot, musket- 
 ry, and cannon balls. The bridges were all destroyed. A frightful specta- 
 cle of wreck and ruin was now presented. The retreating army plunged 
 into the stream. Some found fords, and, wading breast high, reached the 
 opposite bank, and planted anew their batteries ; thousands were swept 
 away by the current. The shore, for miles, was lined with the bodies of 
 drowned men. A storm of bullets swept the river, crowded with the fugi- 
 tives, and the water ran red with blood. 
 
 The allied army was now utterly destroyed. It was impossible to make 
 any further opposition to the advance of Napoleon. The broken bands of 
 the vanquished retired precipitately across the Niemen, and took refuge in 
 the w r ilds of Russia. The Russian generals and the Russian army now 
 clamored loudly for peace. Alexander sent a messenger to Napoleon im- 
 ploring an armistice. Napoleon promptly replied, that after so much fa- 
 tigue, toil, and suffering, he desired nothing so much as a safe and honorable 
 peace ; and that most cordially he consented to an armistice, hoping that it 
 might secure that desirable end. Thus in ten days the campaign was ter- 
 minated. Napoleon thus addressed his army : 
 
 " Soldiers ! On the 5th of June we were attacked in our cantonments by 
 the Russian army. The enemy had mistaken the cause of our inactivity. 
 He perceived too late that our repose was that of the lion. He repents of 
 having disturbed it. In a campaign of ten days we have taken 120 pieces 
 of cannon, seven colors, and have killed, wounded, or taken prisoners 60,000 
 Russians. We have taken from the enemy's army all its magazines, its 
 hospitals, its ambulances, the fortress of Konigsberg, the 300 vessels which
 
 1807.] THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 557 
 
 were in that port, laden with all kinds of military stores, and 160,000 mus- 
 kets, which England was sending to arm our enemies. From the hanks of 
 the Vistula we have come, with the speed of the eagle, to those of the Nie- 
 men. At Austerlitz you celebrated the anniversary of the coronation. At 
 Frieclland you have worthily celebrated the battle of Marengo, where we put 
 an end to the war of the second coalition. 
 
 " Frenchmen ! You have been worthy of yourselves and of me. You will 
 return to France covered with laurels, having obtained a glorious peace, 
 which carries with it the guarantee of its duration. It is time for our coun- 
 try to live in repose, sheltered from the malignant influences of England. 
 My bounties shall prove to you my gratitude, and the full extent of the love 
 which I feel for you." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 
 
 Proposals for Peace Raft at Tilsit Intimacy of Napoleon and Alexander The King of Prussia 
 Chagrin of the Queen Treaty of Tilsit Unfair Representations of English Historians Return 
 to Paris General Rejoicing. 
 
 UPON the banks of the Niemen, which separates the rest of Europe from 
 the boundless wastes of the Russian empire, Napoleon arrested the march 
 of his triumphant columns. But twenty months had now elapsed since he 
 left the camp of Boulogne. In that time he had traversed the Continent and 
 conquered all the armies of combined Europe. The storms of winter had 
 passed away. The beauty of summer was blooming around him. His sol- 
 diers, flushed with victory, and adoring their chieftain, were ready to follow 
 wherever he should lead. But his enemies were incapable of any further 
 resistance. Alexander and Frederick William, in the extreme of dejection, 
 were upon the northern bank of the river, with about 70,000 men, the broken 
 bands of their armies. These troops, having lost most of their artillery and 
 munitions of war, were utterly dispirited. On the other bank the eagles of 
 Napoleon fluttered proudly over 170,000 victors. 
 
 Upon the left bank of the Niemen there is the little town of Tilsit. It 
 contains about ten thousand inhabitants. Napoleon had just arrived in this 
 place when a letter was placed in his hands from Alexander, proposing an 
 armistice. Napoleon had now been absent from the capital of his empire 
 nearly a year, enduring inconceivable toils and hardships. With the utmost 
 cordiality he accepted the proffered advances. Marshal Kalkreuth appear- 
 ed, in behalf of the Prussians, to implore the clemency of the conqueror. 
 Napoleon received him with great courtesy, and said, " You alone, of the 
 Prussian officers, have treated the French prisoners humanely. On this ac- 
 count, and as a mark of my esteem and gratitude, I consent to a suspension 
 of arms, without requiring the delivery of the remaining Prussian fortresses " 
 
 The Niemen alone now separated the bellisrerent armies. But Napoleon, 
 
 with characteristic caution, concentrated his forces, reared an intrenched 
 
 camp, collected immense stores, and posted the divisions of his army just as 
 
 if the war had not been interrupted. The two vanquished sovereigns were 
 
 VOL. II. R
 
 558 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 now in great haste to open negotiations. The first interview was appointed 
 for the 25th of June. 
 
 It is not often that the mathematical and the poetic elements combine in 
 the same mind. They did so, in the most extraordinary degree, in the mind 
 of Napoleon. No one ever had a more rich appreciation than he of beauty 
 and of sublimity. He felt the impress of moral grandeur, and he well knew 
 how to place that impress upon other hearts. The two most powerful sov- 
 ereigns in the world were to meet, in friendly converse, to decide whether 
 war should still desolate Europe. For a year their mighty armies had been 
 engaged in one of the most sanguinary conflicts earth has ever witnessed. 
 These hosts, consisting in the aggregate of more than two hundred thousand 
 men, were now facing each other, separated but by a narrow stream. The 
 eyes of all Europe were riveted upon the astonishing scene. Napoleon fully 
 realized the grandeur of the occasion. With his accustomed tact, he seized 
 upon it to produce an impression never to be forgotten, 
 
 He ordered a large and magnificent raft to be moored in the middle of the 
 Niemen, equidistant from both banks of the river. The raft was carpeted, 
 
 THE HAFT AT TILSIT. 
 
 and ornamented with the richest decorations. Upon one part a gorgeous 
 pavilion was erected. No expense was spared to invest the construction 
 with the most imposing magnificence. The two armies were drawn up 
 upon each shore. Thousands of people from the neighboring country had 
 thronged to the spot to witness the extraordinary spectacle. God seemed
 
 1807.] THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 559 
 
 to smile upon this scene of reconciliation. The sun rose brilliantly into the 
 cloudless sky, and the balmy atmosphere of one of the most lovely of June 
 morning's invigorated all hearts. 
 
 At one o'clock precisely the thunders of artillery rose sublimely from 
 either shore, as each emperor, accompanied by a few of his principal officers, 
 stepped into a boat on his own side of the river. The numerous and gorge- 
 ously appareled suite of the respective monarchs followed in a boat imme- 
 diately after their sovereigns. The main raft was intended solely for Napo- 
 leon and Alexander. Two smaller rafts, also of beautiful construction, were 
 anchored at a short distance for the imperial retinue. Napoleon reached the 
 raft first, and immediately crossed it to receive Alexander. The two em- 
 perors cordially embraced each other. Every man in both armies was gaz- 
 ing upon them. Instantly a shout arose from two hundred thousand voices, 
 which filled the air like a peal of sublimest thunder. Even the roar \)f nearly 
 a thousand pieces of artillery was drowned in that exultant acclaim. 
 
 The two emperors entered the pavilion together. The first words which 
 Alexander uttered were, 
 
 " I hate the English as much as you do. I am ready to second you in all 
 your enterprises against them." 
 
 " In that case," Napoleon replied, " every thing will be easily arranged, 
 and peace is already made." 
 
 The interview lasted two hours. Napoleon, with his brilliant genius, pos- 
 sessed powers of fascination which few could resist. Alexander was per- 
 fectly entranced. "Never," said he afterward, "did I love any man as I 
 loved that man." " You and I," said Napoleon, " shall understand each 
 other better if we treat directly than by employing our ministers. We shall 
 advance business more in an hour than our negotiators in several days. Be- 
 tween you and me there must be no third person." 
 
 Alexander was but thirty years of age. He was extremely ambitious. To 
 be thus addressed by one whose renown filled the world was in the highest 
 degree gratifying to the vanquished monarch. Napoleon proposed that they 
 should both establish themselves in the little town of Tilsit, which should be 
 neutralized to receive Alexander. There they could at any hour, in person, 
 engage in business. The proposal was eagerly accepted. It was agreed 
 that the very next day, Alexander, with his guard, should occupy one half of 
 Tilsit, and Napoleon the other. Napoleon immediately ordered the most 
 sumptuous arrangements to be made for the accommodation of the Russian 
 emperor. Furniture of the richest construction was sent to his apartments, 
 and he was provided with every luxury. 
 
 On the morning of the next day the emperors met again upon the raft. 
 The unfortunate King of Prussia accompanied Alexander. Frederick Wil- 
 liam was a dull, uninteresting, awkward man, with no graces of person or of 
 mind. He had unjustly provoked the war. His kingdom was in the hands 
 of the conqueror. He could receive nothing but what Napoleon, in compas- 
 sion, might condescend to restore. Alexander could treat on terms of equal- 
 ity. His kingdom was not yet invaded. All its resources were still under 
 his control. The interview was short, lasting but half an hour. It was ex- 
 tremely embarrassing upon the part of the King of Prussia. He tried to
 
 560 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 frame some apologies for drawing the sword against France. Napoleon was 
 too generous to wound his humbled foe by reproaches. He merely said that 
 it was a great calamity that the court of Berlin should have allowed itself, 
 by the intrigues of England, to embroil the Continent in war. It was de- 
 cided that the King of Prussia should also come to Tilsit, to reside with his 
 ally Alexander. Both parties then returned to their respective sides of the 
 river. 
 
 At five o'clock in the afternoon of the same day, Alexander again crossed 
 the Niemen to take up his residence in Tilsit. Napoleon went to the water's 
 edge to receive him. They met like friends of long standing. Napoleon 
 was especially courteous and cordial. Alexander was greeted with all the 
 honor which the French army could confer. He was conducted to his quar- 
 ters amid the discharges of artillery and the acclamations of a countless host. 
 Alexander dined with Napoleon. The highest honors and the most delicate 
 attentions were lavished upon him. It was immediately settled that the Rus- 
 sian emperor should take all his meals with Napoleon. Alexander was a 
 gentleman of highly polished address, exhibiting all that grace and elegance 
 which give such a peculiar charm to the salons of Paris. He was entirely 
 dazzled by the grandeur and the fascinations of Napoleon, and was willingly 
 led captive by one who could conquer hearts even more easily than he could 
 vanquish armies. 
 
 The two emperors took long rides every day, side by side, upon the banks 
 of the Niemen, conversing with the utmost frankness. Their intimacy became 
 so extraordinary, that not only did they dine daily together, but nearly every 
 hour they were with each other, arranging the complicated conditions of the 
 treaty into which they were about to enter. The officers and soldiers of the 
 two armies, witnessing the perfect cordiality between the two emperors, vied 
 also with each other in testimonials of esteem and friendship. Fetes and en- 
 tertainments succeeded in rapid order, and the twc encampments were united 
 in the kindliest ties of brotherhood. The emperors, as they rode in company 
 along the ranks of both armies, were received with the liveliest acclamations. 
 Shouts of " Vive Alexander!" "Vive Napoleon !" were harmoniously blended. 
 " My soldiers," said Napoleon to the Czar, " are as brave as it is possible to 
 be, but they are too much addicted to reasoning on their position. If they 
 had the impassible firmness and docility of the Russians, the world would 
 be too small for their exploits." 
 
 One morning Napoleon arid Alexander w r ere .walking out together, when 
 they passed a French sentinel, who respectfully presented arms. The gren- 
 adier had a hideous scar upon his face, caused by a long and deep sabre 
 gash, extending from his forehead to his chin. Napoleon looked at the man 
 kindly for a moment, and then said to Alexander, 
 
 " Sire, my brother, what think you of soldiers who can survive such 
 wounds as that ?" 
 
 Alexander fixed his eyes upon the wound, and replied, "And you, sire, 
 my brother, what think you of soldiers who can give such wounds ?" 
 
 The grenadier murmured, in a grave voice, without changing a feature of 
 his cast-iron face, " They are all dead they are." 
 
 For a moment Alexander was 'embarrassed, and then turning to Napoleon,
 
 1807.] THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 56\ 
 
 very courteously replied, " Here, my brother, as elsewhere, the victory re- 
 mains with you." 
 
 " Here, as elsewhere," Napoleon most aptly rejoined, " it is to my soldiers 
 that I am indebted for victory." 
 
 The emperors often spent hours together with the map of the world spread 
 out before them. Alexander became quite entranced with the new and brill- 
 iant thoughts which Napoleon suggested to his mind. It was Napoleon's 
 great object to withdraw Alexander from the alliance with England, and to 
 secure his cordial co-operation with France. 
 
 " What," said he, one day, " are the objects at which England aims ? She 
 wishes to rule the seas, which are the property of all nations, to oppress 
 neutral flags, to monopolize commerce, to compel other nations to pay for 
 colonial produce whatever price she demands, to plant her foot upon the 
 Continent wherever she can in Portugal, in Denmark, in Sweden ; to take 
 possession of the dominant points of the globe, the Cape of Good Hope, Gib- 
 raltar, Malta, and the entrance to the Baltic, that she may impose her laws 
 upon the whole trading world. She is now endeavoring to conquer Egypt. 
 And recently, if she had obtained possession of the Dardanelles, what would 
 she have done with them ? 
 
 " I am accused of being fond of war. It is not so. I am ready instantly 
 to prove it. Be you my mediator with the cabinet of London. That char- 
 acter befits your position as the former ally of England and the future ally 
 of France. I am willing to give up Malta. Great Britain may keep that 
 island in compensation for what I have acquired since the rupture of the 
 peace of Amiens. But let her, in her turn, give up the colonies which she 
 has wrested from my allies, Spain and Holland. I will then restore Han- 
 over to her. Are not these conditions just perfectly equitable ? Can I ac- 
 cept others ? Can I desert my allies ? And when I am willing to sacrifice 
 my conquests on the Continent to recover for my allies their lost posses- 
 sions, is it possible to dispute my probity and my moderation ? 
 
 " If England refuse these terms, she ought to be forced to submit. It is 
 not right that she should keep the world continually harassed by war. We 
 have the means of compelling her to peace. If England refuses these just 
 terms, proclaim yourself the ally of France. Declare that you will join your 
 forces with hers to secure a maritime peace. Let England know that be- 
 sides war with France she will have a war with the whole Continent, with 
 Russia, with Prussia, with Denmark, with Sweden, and with Portugal, all 
 which powers must obey when we signify our will to them. Austria must 
 speak out in the same spirit when she finds that she must have war with 
 England or with us. England, then exposed to a universal war if she will 
 not conclude an equitable peace England will lay down her arms. 
 
 " You are to act as a mediator with England for me. I will act the same 
 part with the Porte for you. If the Porte refuses to treat on equitable terms, 
 I will unite with you against the Turks. Then we will make a suitable par- 
 tition of the Ottoman empire." 
 
 Alexander was thrown by these magnificent conceptions into almost a de- 
 lirium of enthusiasm. He yielded himself, without resistance, to the fasci- 
 pations of the master-mind which had now obtained an entire ascendency
 
 562 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 over him. He was never weary of expressing his unbounded admiration of 
 Napoleon. To those who approached him he incessantly exclaimed, "What 
 a great man ! what a genius ! What extensive views ! What a captain ! 
 what a statesman ! Had I known him sooner, from how many errors he 
 might have saved me ! What great things we might have accomplished to- 
 gether !" 
 
 The unfortunate King of Prussia was truly an object of commiseration. 
 With neither an empire nor an army, he was but a suppliant for such alms 
 as the generosity of Napoleon might confer upon him. He was lonely and 
 dejected, and was quite an incumbrance in the way of his crowned compan- 
 ions. Napoleon treated him with great delicacy and respect. Said Napo- 
 leon at St. Helena, 
 
 "Almost every day at Tilsit the two emperors and the King of Prussia 
 rode out together on horseback. Napoleon rode in the middle between the 
 
 THE THREE SOVEREIGNS. 
 
 two sovereigns. Frederick William could hardly keep pace with the two 
 emperors, or, deeming -himself an intruder on their tete-a-tete, generally fell 
 behind. Alexander was sometimes fatigued with his companion, whose cha- 
 grin was so evident that it damped our satisfaction. We broke up, in con- 
 sequence, our dinner parties at an early hour, under pretense of business at 
 home. Alexander and I remained behind to take tea together, and gener- 
 ally prolonged the conversation till past midnight." Tv -~. 
 
 In these long interviews the fate of Turkey was a continual topic of con-
 
 |807.] THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 563 
 
 versation. The Moslem empire was rapidly crumbling to decay. Alexander 
 was exceedingly desirous to drive the Turks out of Europe, and take pos- 
 session of Constantinople. Napoleon was irreconcilably opposed to this 
 plan. He felt that it was giving the dreaded Colossus of the North alto- 
 gether too much power. He was willing that Russia should take the prov- 
 inces on the Danube, but could not be persuaded to allow Alexander to pass 
 the range of the Balkan Mountains, and annex to his realms the proud city 
 of Constant'ne 
 
 One day, having returned from a ride, the two emperors shut themselves 
 up in the writing cabinet, where numerous maps were spread out. Napoleon 
 requested his secretary, M. Meneval, to bring him a map of Turkey. Clap- 
 ping his finger upon Constantinople, he exclaimed with great earnestness, as 
 if repeating a conversation, " Constantinople ! Constantinople ! never ! 'tis 
 the empire of the world !" 
 
 "All the Emperor Alexander's thoughts," said Napoleon at St. Helena, 
 " are directed to the conquest of Turkey. We have had many discussions 
 about it. At first I was pleased with his proposals, because I thought it 
 would enlighten the world to drive these brutes, the Turks, out of Europe. 
 But when I reflected upon its consequences, and saw what a tremendous 
 weight of power it would give to Russia, on account of the number of 
 Greeks in the Turkish dominions, who would naturally join the Russians, I 
 refused to consent to it, especially as Alexander wanted to get Constantino- 
 ple, which I would not allow, as it would destroy the equilibrium of power 
 in Europe." 
 
 " A dispensation of Providence," said Napoleon to Alexander at Tilsil^ 
 " has set me at liberty in regard to the Porte. My ally and friend, Sultan 
 Selim, has been hurled from the throne into confinement. I did think that 
 one might make something of these Turks ; restore to them some energy ,* 
 teach them to make use of their natural courage. 'Tis an illusion. It is 
 time to put an end to an empire which can no longer hold together, and to 
 prevent its spoils from contributing to increase the power of England." 
 
 The Queen of Prussia came to Tilsit with her husband, hoping by her ex- 
 traordinary charms of person and of manner to secure more favorable terms 
 from the conqueror. She was one of the most brilliant of women, retaining, 
 at the age of thirty-two, that surpassing loveliness which had made her the 
 admiration of Europe. 
 
 "The Queen of Prussia,*' said Napoleon, "unquestionably possessed tal- 
 ents, great information, and singular acquaintance with affairs. She was 
 the real sovereign for fifteen years. In truth, in spite of my address and ut- 
 most efforts, she constantly led the conversation, returned at pleasure to her 
 subject, and directed it as she chose, but still with so much tact and delicacy 
 that it was impossible to take offense. 
 
 " Had the Queen of Prussia arrived earlier at our conferences, it might 
 have had much influence upon the result of our negotiations. But, happily 
 she did not make her appearance till all was settled. As soon as she aW 
 rived I went to pay her a visit. She was very beautiful, but somewhat past 
 the first flower of youth. After all, a fine woman and gallantry are not to 
 be weighed against affairs of state."
 
 564 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 He wrote to Josephine: "The Queen of Prussia is really a charming 
 woman. She is fond of coqueting with me. But do not be jealous. I am 
 like a cere-cloth, along which every thing of this sort slides without pene- 
 trating. It would cost me too dear to play the gallant." 
 
 The unhappy queen was violently agitated when she found that her ef- 
 forts had been of no avail, and that all was concluded. As Napoleon con- 
 ducted her down stairs at the close of their final dinner, she stopped, gazed 
 earnestly into his eyes, pressed his hand, and said, 
 
 " Is it possible that, after having had the good fortune to be so near the 
 hero of the age, he has not left me the satisfaction of being able to assure 
 him that he has attached me to him forever !" 
 
 "Madame," Napoleon replied, " I lament that it is so. It is my evil des- 
 tiny." 
 
 When she reached her carriage, she threw herself into it, buried her face 
 in her hands, and departed sobbing most bitterly. The grief of the unhappy 
 queen wore so heavily upon her spirits that she soon sank into the grave. 
 Her persuasions had roused Prussia to the war, and her lofty spirit could 
 not brook the ruin she had thus drawn upon her country and her house. 
 
 The treaty concluded upon this occasion has become famous in history 
 as the " Treaty of Tilsit." The King of Prussia had about one half of his 
 empire restored to him. The portion wrested from Poland, in the infamous 
 partition of that empire, was organized into a Polish state, called the Duchy 
 of Warsaw, and was placed under the protection of the King of Saxony. 
 Napoleon liberated all the serfs, entirely abolished slavery, established per- 
 fect liberty of conscience in matters of religion, and rescued the Jews from 
 all oppression. The inhabitants of the duchy were overjoyed in being thus 
 emancipated from Prussian rule, and restored to comparative independence. 
 
 Napoleon earnestly desired the complete re-establishment of Poland. But 
 he could not induce Alexander to consent to the plan. The provinces of 
 Prussia, upon the left banks of the Elbe, were formed into the kingdom of 
 Westphalia, and assigned to Jerome Bonaparte. The kingdom of Prussia 
 was reduced from nine millions of inhabitants to five millions ; her revenue 
 of twenty-four millions of dollars was diminished to fourteen millions. Al- 
 exander recognized the Confederation of the Rhine, and also acknowledged 
 the Kings of Naples, Holland, and Westphalia. Russia agreed to mediate 
 with England, and France engaged to mediate with the Porte, for the restora- 
 tion -tff peace throughout the world. Alexander and Napoleon also entered 
 into a mutual alliance, offensive and defensive. Such were the essential arti- 
 cles of this celebrated treaty. Thus Napoleon endeavored to strengthen his 
 own position, and to protect himself from any further attacks from the north. 
 
 Some accused Napoleon of weakness and folly in leaving Prussia so pow- 
 erful when she was entirely at his mercy. Others accused him of ambition 
 and arrogance in despoiling her of so large a portion of her resources. Im- 
 partial history will decide that, considering the circumstances in which he 
 was placed, he acted not only with much wisdom and moderation, but also 
 with great magnanimity. He manifested no spirit of revenge for the wrongs 
 which he had received, He endeavored only to shield himself from future 
 attacks.
 
 1807.] THE PEACE OF TILSIT. 555 
 
 Immediately after the conclusion of this treaty, in which Napoleon mani- 
 fested so little disposition to aggrandize France as to excite the wonder even 
 of his most hostile historians, he sent for Savary, and said to him, " I have 
 concluded peace. I am told that I have done wrong, and that I shall find 
 myself deceived. But truly we have had war enough. It is time that the 
 world should enjoy repose. I wish to send you to St. Petersburg until I 
 make choice of an embassador. I will give you a letter to Alexander which 
 will serve as your credentials. You will manage the business for me. Rec- 
 ollect that I do not wish to go to war with any power whatever. Let this 
 principle be the guide of your conduct. I shall be much displeased if you 
 do not avoid drawing me into fresh difficulties. In your conversation, care- 
 fully avoid any thing that may be offensive. For instance, never speak of 
 war. Do not condemn any custom or comment upon any absurdity. Every 
 nation has its peculiarities. It is too much the habit of the French to com- 
 pare all customs with their own, and to set themselves up as models. You 
 know how I have been deceived by the Austrians and Prussians. I place 
 confidence in the Emperor of Russia."* 
 
 Napoleon had now been absent from France nearly a year. Upon the 
 banks of the Niemen he was fifteen hundred miles from his capital. The 
 Continent was now at peace. At this moment Napoleon was in the zenith 
 of his power. Europe, dazzled by his genius, and vanquished by his armies, 
 was compelled to recognize his crown. England alone, protected by her in- 
 vincible fleet, and triumphantly sweeping all seas, refused to sheathe the 
 sword. She still exerted all her powers of diplomacy and of gold to com- 
 bine new coalitions against the foe she so relentlessly pursued. Notwith 
 
 * In reference to this treaty, Sir Walter Scott remarks, with a disingenuousness deeply to be 
 regretted in one whom we love to honor, " It may seem strange that the shrewd and jealous Na- 
 poleon should have suffered himself to be so much overreached in his treaty with Alexander, since 
 the benefits stipulated for France 'were in a great measure vague, and subjects of hope rather than 
 certainty." Sir Walter, with his inveterate Tory prejudices, could not deem it possible that Napo- 
 leon could be influenced by a generous impulse. " If the reader," he says, "should wonder how 
 Bonaparte, able and astutious as he was, came to be overreached in the treaty of Tilsit, we belies 
 the secret may be found in a piece of private history. He had hopes that he might obtain the hand 
 of one of the Archduchesses of Russia /" 
 
 History may be searched in vain for a parallel to the unjust treatment of Napoleon. The great 
 facts in his career are admitted by all. The false coloring put upon these facts is perfectly astound- 
 ing. It is one of the most extraordinary of the curiosities of literature. Take one example out 
 of hundreds, from Alison, who, better than any other English historian, with the exception of Haz- 
 litt, appreciates the character of Napoleon. All admit that after every victory Napoleon pleaded 
 for peace. How can this be reconciled with his alleged passion for war 1 " It had ever been," says 
 Alison, " his policy to offer peace to his enemies during the first tumult and consternation of defeat ; 
 and more than once, by such well-timed advances, he had extricated himself from a position of the ut- 
 most peril." After the battle of Eylau, Napoleon wrote a generous and noble letter to Frederick 
 William, offering, on terms most equitable and moderate, to make peace with Prussia, either singly 
 or united with her allies. The fact no one can deny. And yet Alison allows himself to say, 
 " Amid these tardy and extorted expressions of moderation, the Emperor had nothing less at heart 
 than to come to an accommodation." Still Alison is compelled to admit that Napoleon did make 
 peace the very moment his enemies were willing to sheathe the sword, and that he did this on 
 terms so favorable to his enemies as to excite the astonishment of the world. History is indeed 
 recreant to her trust when, abandoning the broad highway of facts, she wanders in the crooked by- 
 paths of hostile and ungenerous insinuations. Napoleon conducted nobly, magnanimously at TuV 
 it. Friend and foe should acknowledge it. The surmise that Napoleon hoped that Alexander 
 would toss in a sister to help balance (he bargain, can. pot command respect.
 
 566 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 standing England's sovereignty of the seas, the genius of Napoleon had placed 
 her in an unenviable position. The haughty bearing of that government had 
 rendered England universally unpopular. Says Hazlitt, "As to the com- 
 plaints urged by the French ruler against the encroachments, the insolence, 
 and the rapacity of England, as a maritime power, nothing could be more 
 just." Europe was now ready to combine to compel England to recognize 
 1he rights of other nations, and to sheathe her dripping sword. But proudly 
 this majestic power, in her inaccessible domain, gathered her fleets around 
 her, and bid defiance to the combined world. 
 
 On Napoleon's return journey, when he had arrived at Dresden, the cap- 
 ital of. the kingdom of Saxony, he wrote to Josephine : 
 
 " I reached this city last evening, at five o'clock, very well, though I had 
 been in my carriage, without leaving it, one hundred hours. I am with the 
 King of Saxony. I like him much. I have now traversed one half the dis- 
 tance which has separated us. It will happen that, one of these beautiful 
 nights, I shall burst into St. Cloud like a jealous husband. I forewarn you 
 of it. It will give me the most intense pleasure again to see you. Entirely 
 thine, NAPOLEON." 
 
 At six o'clock in the morning of the 27th of July, the cannon of the In- 
 valides, reverberating through the metropolis, announced to the overjoyed 
 Parisians the return of their emperor. With his accustomed disregard of 
 all personal comfort, and his characteristic avoidance of all empty pomp, he 
 had traveled through the night, and entered his capital, unannounced, at that 
 early hour of the morning. The tidings of his arrival passed through the 
 city like an electric flash. Spontaneous rejoicings filled all the streets. 
 Napoleon had rescued France from the abyss of anarchy and want, and 
 placed her upon the very pinnacle of prosperity and glory. Bourbonist and 
 Democrat, friend and enemy, alike admitted this. As the day passed away, 
 and the evening twilight faded, every window, by popular concert, blazed 
 with illuminations. But Napoleon tarried not in the city to receive these con- 
 gratulations. Without the delay of an hour he repaired to St. Cloud, where 
 he assembled the ministers before him, and immediately entered upon busi- 
 ness, as if he had just returned from a short tour for recreation. 
 
 The confidence of the public in the stability of Napoleon's power may be 
 inferred from the rate of the public funds. The government five per cent, 
 stock Napoleon found, when he ascended the consulship, worth but twelve 
 dollars on the hundred. At his return from Friedland the same stocks were 
 selling at ninety-three dollars on the hundred. As it was easy then to ob- 
 tain, with good security, an interest of six or seven per cent., this high ap- 
 preciation of the public funds proves the firmest confidence in the estab- 
 lished government. 
 
 Before Napoleon left Paris to enter upon these campaigns, into which he 
 was so reluctantly dragged, he addressed his ministers in the following sol' 
 emn and emphatic appeal : 
 
 " I am innocent of this war. I have done nothing to provoke it. It did 
 not enter into my calculations. Let me be defeated if it be of my own seek-
 
 1807.] POLITICAL VIEWS. 507 
 
 ing. One of the principal reasons of the assurance I feel that my enemies 
 will be destroyed is, that I view in their conduct the finger of Providence, 
 who, willing that the guilty should be punished, has set wisdom so far aside 
 in their councils, that when they intended to attack me in the moment of 
 weakness, they selected the very instant when I was stronger than ever." 
 
 Before the battle of Jena, when Napoleon had so effectually outmaneu- 
 vered his enemies as to feel sure of victory, wishing to save the effusion of 
 blood, he wrote to the King of Prussia : 
 
 " The success of my arms is not doutbtful. Your troops will be beaten. 
 But it will cost me the blood of my children. .If that can be spared by any 
 arrangement consistent with the dignity of my crown, I will do all that may 
 depend upon myself. Excepting honor, nothing is so precious in my eyes as 
 the blood of my soldiers." 
 
 After the utter and unparalleled overthrow of the Prussians upon the fields 
 of Jena and Auerstadt, he concluded a bulletin with the following words : 
 " It appears as if it were a decree of Providence that all those who have fo- 
 mented this war should be cut off by the first blows which were struck." 
 
 Napoleon had now returned to Paris after a series of victories unparalleled 
 in history. As has been stated, he immediately repaired to St. Cloud, and 
 convened a council of his ministers. He had never before seemed so happy. 
 Joy beamed from his countenance. 
 
 " We are now," said he, " sure of Continental peace. And as for maritime 
 peace, we shall soon obtain that by the voluntary or the forced concurrence 
 of all the Continental powers. Let us enjoy our greatness, and now turn 
 traders and manufacturers. I have had enough of the trade of General. I 
 shall now resume with you that of First Minister, and recommence my great 
 reviews of affairs, which it is time to substitute for my great reviews of ar- 
 mies.' 1 '' The Emperor, accompanied by the Empress, and by all the high 
 dignitaries of state, repaired to the church of Notre Dame, where a Te Deum 
 was chanted in solemn thanksgiving to God for the Peace of Tilsit. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 POLITICAL VIEWS. 
 
 Letter to Louis Bonaparte Jerome Bonaparte Abolition of the Tribunate Napoleon in Council 
 Care of the Children of deceased Officers and Soldiers Far-sighted Policy Report of the 
 Minister of the Interior. 
 
 WITHOUT devoting a day to rest or to triumph, Napoleon immediately 
 plunged, with all the energy of his ardent and incessantly active mind, into 
 boundless plans for the promotion of the great interests of France. Care- 
 fully selected agents were dispatched to all the cabinets of Europe. Minute 
 directions were given to each to secure the efficient co-operation of all those 
 powers in the attempt to coerce England to peace, if she should refuse to 
 accept the terms which Russia was commissioned to offer her. In this war- 
 fare it was not possible that there should be any neutrality. Those Conti- 
 nental powers which continued to open their ports for the reception of En-
 
 568 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 glish goods, were most efficiently aiding the belligerent and indomitable 
 islanders. Those, on the contrary, who closed their ports against the manu- 
 factures of England, co-operated with the Allies in their great measure to 
 disarm that hostile power. The Allies ! But yesterday, guided by the ge- 
 nius of English diplomacy, they were combined against Napoleon. To-day, 
 the genius of Napoleon has turned all their energies against his formidable 
 rival. The rights of neutrals were by both parties entirely disregarded. 
 England first assailed the rights of neutrals by prohibiting all commerce 
 with France, or with the allies of France. Napoleon, immediately meeting 
 wrong with wrong, prohibited all neutrals as well as his own subjects from 
 buying any goods of the English. 
 
 Holland was almost exclusively a commercial country. Louis Bonaparte, 
 a humane, kind-hearted, conscientious man, was more interested in the wel- 
 fare of his own subjects than in the general welfare of Europe, consequently 
 he was quite lax in enforcing the Continental system. Smuggling was very 
 extensively practiced in his kingdom. Napoleon, in the following able and 
 earnest terms, remonstrated with his brother : 
 
 " It is not to the present alone that sovereigns must accommodate their 
 policy. The future must also be the object of their consideration. What is 
 at this moment the situation of Europe ? On one side, England, who pos- 
 sesses, by her sole exertions, a dominion to which the whole world has hither- 
 to been compelled to submit. On the other side, the French empire and the 
 Continental states, which, strengthened by the union of their powers, can not 
 acquiesce in this supremacy exercised by England. Those states had also 
 their colonies and a maritime trade. They possess an extent of coast much 
 greater than England ; but they have become disunited, and England has 
 attacked the naval power of each separately. England has triumphed on 
 every sea, and all navies have been destroyed. Russia, Sweden, France, and 
 Spain, which possess such ample means for having ships and sailors, dare 
 not venture to send a squadron out of their ports 
 
 " I wish for peace. I wish to obtain it by every means compatible with 
 the dignity of the power of France at the expense of every sacrifice which 
 our national honor can allow. Every day I feel more and more that peace 
 is necessary. The sovereigns of the Continent are as anxious for peace as 
 I am. I feel no passionate prejudice against England. I bear her no insur- 
 mountable hatred. She has followed against me a system of repulsion. 1 
 have adopted against her the Continental system, not so much from a jeal- 
 ousy of ambition, as my enemies suppose, but in order to reduce England to 
 the necessity of adjusting our differences. Let England be rich and pros- 
 perous. It is no concern of mine, provided France and her allies enjoy the 
 same advantages. 
 
 " The Continental system has, therefore, no other object than to advance 
 the moment when the public rights of Europe and of the French empire 
 will be definitely established. The sovereigns of the North observe and en 
 force strictly the system of prohibition, and their trade has been greatly ben 
 efited by it. The manufactures of Prussia may now compete with ours. 
 You are aware that France, and the whole extent of coasts which now forms 
 part of the empire, from the Gulf of Lyons to the extremity of the Adriatic,
 
 1807.] POLITICAL VIEWS. 569 
 
 are strictly closed against the produce of foreign industry. I am about to 
 adopt a measure with respect to the affairs of Spain, the result of which will 
 be to wrest Portugal from England, and subject all the coasts of Spain, on 
 both seas, to the influence of the policy of France. The coasts of the whole 
 of Europe will then be closed against England, with the exception of those 
 of Turkey, which I do not care about, as the Turks do not trade with 
 Europe. 
 
 " Do you not perceive, from this statement, the fatal consequences that 
 would result from the facilities given by Holland to the English for the in- 
 troduction of their goods on the Continent ? They would enable England to 
 levy upon us the subsidies which she would afterward offer to other powers 
 to fight against us. Your majesty is as much interested as I am to guard 
 against the crafty policy of the English cabinet. A few years more, and 
 England will wish for peace as much as we do. Observe the situation of 
 your kingdom, and you will see that the system I allude to is more useful to 
 yourself than it is to me. Holland is a maritime and commercial power. 
 She possesses fine sea-ports, fleets, sailors, skillful commanders, and colonies 
 which do not cost any thing to the mother country. Her inhabitants under- 
 stand trade as well as the English. Has not Holland, therefore, an interest 
 in defending all these advantages ? May not peace restore her to the po- 
 sition she formerly held ? Granted that her situation may be painful for a 
 few years ; but is not this preferable to making the King of Holland a mere 
 governor for England, and Holland and her colonies a vassal of Great Brit- 
 ain ? Yet the protection which you would afford to English commerce would 
 lead to that result. The examples of Sicily and Portugal are still before 
 your eyes. 
 
 " Await the result of the progress of time. You want to sell your gins, 
 and England wants to buy them. Point out the place where the English 
 smugglers may come and fetch them ; but let them pay for them in money, 
 and never in goods positively never ! Peace must at last be made. You 
 will then make a treaty of commerce with England. I may, perhaps, also 
 make one with her, but in which our mutual interests shall be reciprocally 
 guaranteed. If we must allow England to exercise a kind of supremacy on 
 the sea a supremacy which she w r ill have purchased at the expense of her 
 treasures and of her blood, and which is the natural consequence of her 
 geographical position of her possessions in the three other quarters of the 
 globe at least our flags will be at liberty to appear on the ocean without 
 being exposed to insult, and our maritime trade will cease to be ruinous. 
 For the present, we must direct our efforts toward preventing England from 
 interfering in the affairs of the Continent." 
 
 It will be remembered that Napoleon had placed two Spanish princes over 
 the kingdom of Etruria. The king, an idle, dissolute, weak-minded man, 
 soon died. The Queen of Etruria, daughter of the King of Spain, now reigned 
 as regent for her son. She was a feeble and a careless woman. She could 
 neither appreciate nor comprehend the Continental system which Napoleon 
 was determined to have enforced. The English traded as freely at Leghorn 
 as in the ports of their own country. Their goods, thus entered, were scat- 
 tered widely over the Continent. Napoleon ordered Eugene to draft an
 
 570 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 army of 4000 men, and, rapidly crossing the Apennines, to fall upon Leg- 
 horn and capture all property belonging to the enemy. He was then to for- 
 tify Leghorn against any attack from the English, and to enforce the Berlin 
 decree. This was an act of despotism. Napoleon asserted, in defense, that 
 the world demanded peace ; that England, mistress of all seas, could not be 
 conquered by force of arms ; that the only influence which could be brought 
 to bear upon England to induce her to consent to peace, was to strike at her 
 trade. To accomplish this, Europe was ready to combine. It seemed to 
 him preposterous that a frivolous and foolish woman, nominally governing 
 the petty kingdom of Etruria, should be a fatal obstacle to the success of a 
 plan of such grandeur. 
 
 Napoleon's youngest brother, Jerome, was at that time a wild, thought, 
 less, kind-hearted young man about twenty-one years of age. His extrava- 
 gance and his frivolous dissipation greatly displeased his imperial brother. 
 He had been appointed to the command of a small sloop of war. Napoleon 
 was in the habit of calling him that little miscreant. At one time, when Je- 
 rome wrote for more money, Napoleon replied : 
 
 " I have seen your letter, Mr. Naval Ensign, and am impatient to heat 
 that you are on board your frigate, studying a profession intended to be the 
 scene of your glory. Die young, and I shall have some consolation ; but 
 if you live to sixty without having served your country, and without leav- 
 ing behind you an honorable memory, you had better never have been 
 born." 
 
 Jerome, in one of his cruises, landed in New York. He there met and 
 married Miss Elizabeth Patterson, a very beautiful young lady, daughter of 
 a rich merchant in Baltimore. Napoleon was founding a new dynasty. By 
 the laws of France, this marriage, without the consent of the government, of 
 a French prince, to whose heirs the imperial crown might descend, was null. 
 It was deemed essential to the interests of France that those princes who 
 might inherit the imperial throne should form alliances which would strength- 
 en their power. Napoleon consequently refused to recognize this marriage, 
 or to allow the youthful bride of his brother to land in France. Madame 
 Bonaparte, in sorrow, returned to Baltimore with her youthful son. Jerome 
 accepted the hand of the daughter of the King of Wiirtemberg, and was ap- 
 pointed by Napoleon King of Westphalia. His son is now heir to the em- 
 pire of France, should Louis Napoleon die without issue. 
 
 It will be remembered that the French government w r as composed of three 
 houses, the Senate, the Tribunate, and the legislative body. Napoleon re- 
 solved to simplify the cumbrous machinery, by blending into one body the 
 functions and the persons of the Tribunate and the Legislature. " It is cer- 
 tain," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "that the Tribunate was absolutely use- 
 less, while it cost nearly half a million. I therefore suppressed it. I was 
 well aware that an outcry would be raised against the violation of the law ; 
 but I was strong. I possessed the full confidence of the people, and I con- 
 sidered myself a reformer. This at least is certain, that I did all for the 
 best. I should, on the contrary, have created the Tribunate, had I been 
 hypocritical or evil-disposed ; for who can doubt that it would have adopted 
 and sanctioned, when necessary, my views and intentions ? But that is what
 
 1807.] 
 
 POLITICAL VIEWS. 
 
 571 
 
 I never sought after in the whole course of my administration. I never pur- 
 chased any vote or decision by promises, money, or places." 
 
 The Council of State, or cabinet, Napoleon formed with the greatest care. 
 In this body he collected for his assistance the most able men in every de^ 
 partment of government, wherever he could find them. The council was 
 divided into sections to report upon literature, science, legislation, civil, mil- 
 itary, naval, and ecclesiastical affairs. The moment a new province was 
 added to the empire, Napoleon sought from it the most distinguished men 
 with whom to enrich his council. Genoa, Florence, Turin, Holland, fur- 
 nished men so brilliant for talents that they survived the downfall of their 
 master, and, upon their return to their own countries, were appointed to high 
 stations by their respective sovereigns. 
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 The meetings of the council were usually held in the palace of the Tuil- 
 eries, or, if Napoleon happened to be at St. Cloud, the members were sum- 
 moned there. The Emperor generally presided in person. His seat was a 
 common mahogany chair, raised one foot above the floor, at the head of 
 several long tables where the counselors of state were seated. At times 
 Napoleon would drop his head upon his bosom and sink into a profound 
 reverie, apparently unconscious of the languishing discussion. At other 
 times the whole body was electrified by the brilliancy and the intense ac- 
 tivity of his mind. Sometimes he gave notice of his intention to be present. 
 Again he appeared unexpectedly. The roll of the drum on the stairs of the 
 Tuileries gave the first intimation of his approach. The Emperor's seat al- 
 ways remained in its place. When he was absent, the High Chancellor pre- 
 sided, occupying a chair by the side of the vacant seat. The moment bus- 
 iness commenced the key was turned, and no loiterer could then obtain ad- 
 mittance.
 
 572 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 No matter how long the sittings, the mind of the Emperor never seemed 
 fatigued. He often kept the council at St. Cloud in session from nine o'clock 
 in the morning until five in the evening, with an intermission of but a quar- 
 ter of an hour for refreshments. He sometimes presided at a meeting of the 
 sections in the Tuileries from ten o'clock in the evening till five in the morn- 
 ing. He then took a bath, and was ready to commence work as vigorous 
 as ever. " One hour," said Napoleon, " in the bath, is worth, to me, four 
 hours of sleep." He expected from others mental activity in some degree 
 corresponding with his own. If a report was to be drawn up, it was ordered 
 for the next morning. If one of the council was charged with proposing a 
 law to the Legislature, he often had not two hours to arrange the matter and 
 to prepare his speech. The Emperor dictated with such rapidity that there 
 generally remained several pages to be written after he had done speaking. 
 And yet his amanuenses were so skillful that seldom any alteration was re- 
 quired. 
 
 There was no opportunity in the council for the pomp of eloquence. The 
 style of speech was laconic and simple. A new member, who had acquired 
 celebrity as an orator, was laughed at for his rhetorical display. He found 
 it necessary immediately to adopt simply the language of earnest conversa- 
 tion. Not only was every description of knowledge represented in the coun- 
 cil, but all shades of political opinion. It was a prominent endeavor of Napo- 
 leon to fuse into one mass of patriotic love all the different parties of the state. 
 
 The most perfect freedom of discussion prevailed in the council. The 
 Emperor often urged those persons to speak whose opinions he desired to 
 learn. One day the Emperor entered the council in a state of intense agi- 
 tation. News had arrived of the surrender to the Spaniards of the French 
 army under General Dupont. It was the first time that the eagles of France 
 had been humiliated. Napoleon's voice trembled with emotion as he re- 
 counted the disaster. He was extremely displeased with General Dupont. 
 As he dwelt upon the resources which the general, even under the most des- 
 perate circumstances, might have called to his aid, he exclaimed, 
 
 " Yes ! the elder Horace, in Corneille's play, is right, when, being asked 
 what his flying son could have done, he says, ' He might have died ; or he 
 might have called m a noble despair to his rescue? Little," continued Na- 
 poleon, " do they know of human nature who find fault with Corneille, and 
 pretend that he has weakened the effect of the first exclamation by that 
 which follows." 
 
 On one occasion, General Gassendi, an old artillery comrade of the Em- 
 peror, was advocating some rather visionary views of political economy. 
 
 "Where, my dear general," said Napoleon, ironically, "did you gain all 
 this knowledge?" 
 
 The blunt soldier, a little irritated, exclaimed, " From you, sire, I have 
 borrowed my principles." 
 
 " What do you say ?" replied the Emperor, with warmth ; " from me ! I 
 have always thought that if there existed a monarchy of granite, the chimeras 
 of political economists would grind it to powder. No, general ! you must 
 have fallen asleep in your office and dreamed all this." 
 
 " Fall asleep in our offices !" exclaimed the privileged soldier. " No, sire,
 
 1807.] POLITICAL VIEWS. 573 
 
 I defy any one to do that. Your majesty torments us too much with hard 
 work to allow of any repose." 
 
 A general burst of laughter followed this retort, in which the Emperor 
 heartily joined. 
 
 A woman had three times been tried for a capital offense, and each time 
 acquitted. Through some informality in the proceedings, a fourth trial was 
 still demanded. Napoleon claimed for the poor woman the immunity which 
 in justice she ought to have obtained. Alone he contended against the whole 
 Council of State. It was declared that the Emperor possessed the power of 
 pardon, but that the law was inflexible and must take its course. " Gentle- 
 men," Napoleon replied, " the decision here goes by the majority. I remain 
 alone, and must yield. But I declare in my conscience that I yield only to 
 forms. You have reduced me to silence, but by no means convinced me." 
 
 On another occasion, in the ardor of debate, the Emperor was three times 
 interrupted in giving his opinion. Turning to the individual who had thus 
 transgressed, he exclaimed, in a severe tone, " I have not yet done, sir. I 
 beg that you will allow me to continue. I believe that every one here has 
 a right to express his sentiments." This reply struck the whole body so 
 comically as to produce a general laugh, in which the Emperor himself very 
 good-naturedly joined. 
 
 Napoleon manifested the most unremitted attention to the wants of his 
 wounded soldiers, and provided, with truly paternal affection, for the chil- 
 dren of those who had fallen on the field of battle. He was continually 
 revolving in his grateful mind what he could do for those who, through toils 
 and sufferings incredible, had been so true to him. At one time he proposed 
 to the Council of State that, in future, all vacant situations in the customs, 
 and in the collection of the revenue and the excise, should be given to wound- 
 ed soldiers, or to veterans capable of filling those offices, from the private up 
 to the highest rank in the army. The plan was very coldly received. Na- 
 poleon urged a free expression of opinion. 
 
 " Sire," answered M. Maluet, " I fear that the other classes of the nation 
 will feel aggrieved in seeing the army preferred." 
 
 " Sir," the Emperor replied, " you make a distinction where none exists. 
 The army no longer forms a separate class in the nation. In the situation 
 in which we are now placed, no member of the state is exempt from being a 
 soldier. To follow a military career is no longer a matter of choice. It is 
 one of necessity. The greatest number of those who are engaged in that 
 career have been compelled to abandon their own professions. It is there- 
 fore just that they should receive some compensation." 
 
 " But will it not be inferred," said M. Maluet, " that your majesty intends 
 that, in future, almost all vacant situations shall be given to soldiers ?" 
 
 ** And such, indeed, is my intention," the Emperor replied. " The only 
 question is whether I have the right to do so. The Constitution gives me 
 the nomination to all places. I think it a principle of strict equity that those 
 who have suffered most have the greatest claims to be indemnified." Then, 
 raising his voice, he added, " Gentlemen, war is not a profession of ease and 
 comfort. Quietly seated on your benches here, you know it only by read- 
 ing our bulletins, or by hearing of our triumphs. You know nothing of our 
 VOL. II. S
 
 574 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 nightly watches, our forced marches, the sufferings and privations of every 
 kind to which we are exposed. But I do know them, for I witness them, 
 and sometimes share them." Though the Emperor was deeply interested 
 in the passing of this decree, and defended it in its most minute details, he 
 yielded to the opposition and abandoned the plan. 
 
 Napoleon had adopted all the children of the soldiers and officers who fell 
 at Austerlitz. In consequence of this adoption they were all authorized to 
 add Napoleon to their names. One of these young men happened, on a cer- 
 tain occasion, to attract the especial attention of the Emperor. Napoleon 
 asked him what profession he would choose, and, without waiting for an an- 
 swer, pointed out one himself. The young man observed that his father's 
 fortune was not sufficient to allow him to follow it. " What has that to do 
 with the question ?" replied the Emperor. " Am not I also your father ?" 
 The pulsations of Napoleon's generous heart were as gigantic as were the 
 energies of his imperial mind. 
 
 The Emperor wished to establish a military classification of the whole 
 empire, as a measure of national defense. The first class, which was to 
 consist of young men, was to march as far as the frontiers. The second, 
 which was to be composed of middle-aged and married men, was not to quit 
 the department to which it belonged. The third, consisting of men advanced 
 in years, was to be kept solely for the defense of the town in which it had 
 been raised. During a discussion of the above subject, the Emperor spoke 
 in very emphatic terms, urging the importance of this measure. His pierc- 
 ing eye seemed to penetrate futurity, and to anticipate the hour of national 
 peril which soon arrived. One of the members of the cabinet, in a very cir- 
 cumlocutory style, expressed his disapproval of this plan of organization. 
 The Emperor immediately exclaimed, " Speak, boldly, sir. Do not mutilate 
 your ideas. Say what you have to say freely. We ate here by ourselves." 
 
 The speaker then declared "that the measure was calculated to inspire 
 general alarm. That every individual trembled to find himself classed in 
 the divisions of the national guard, being persuaded that under the pretext 
 of internal defense, the object was to remove the guards from the country." 
 
 " Very good," said the Emperor ; " I now understand you. But, gentle- 
 men," continued he, addressing himself to the members of the council, " you 
 are all fathers of families, possessing ample fortunes, and filling important 
 posts. You must necessarily have numerous dependents ; and you must 
 either be very maladroit or very indifferent if, with all these advantages, 
 you do not exercise a great influence on public opinion. Now how happens 
 it that you, who know me so well, should suffer me to be so little known 
 by others ? When did you ever know me to employ deception and fraud in 
 my system of government ? I am not timid. I therefore am not accustomed 
 to resort to indirect measures. My fault is, perhaps, to express myself too 
 abruptly, too laconically. I merely pronounce the word, I order ; and with 
 regard to forms and details, I trust to the intermediate agents who execute 
 my intentions ; and heaven knows whether on this point I have any great 
 reason to congratulate myself. If, therefore, I wanted troops, I should bold- 
 ly demand them of the Senate, who would levy them for me ; or, if I could 
 not obtain them from the Senate, I should address myself to the people, and
 
 POLITICAL VIEWS. 
 
 575 
 
 1807.] 
 
 you would see them eagerly march to join my ranks. Whatever may be al- 
 leged to the contrary, the whole of the French people love and respect me. 
 Their good sense is superior to the malignant reports of my enemies. The 
 French people know no benefactor but me. Through me they fearlessly 
 enjoy all that they have acquired. Through me they behold their brothers 
 and sons indiscriminately promoted, honored, and enriched. Through me 
 they find their hands constantly employed, and their labor accompanied by 
 its due reward. They have never had occasion to accuse me of injustice or 
 prepossession. Now the people see, feel, and comprehend all this. Be as- 
 sured, then, that the people of France will always conform to the plans which 
 we propose for their welfare. 
 
 " Do not allow yourselves to be deceived by the supposed opposition which 
 has just been alluded to. It exists only in the saloons of Paris, and by no 
 means in the great body of the nation. In this plan, I solemnly declare I 
 have no ulterior view of sending the national guard abroad. My thoughts, 
 at this moment, are solely occupied in adopting measures at home for the 
 safety, repose, and stability of France. Proceed, then, to embody the na- 
 tional guard, that each citizen may know his post in the hour of need ; that 
 even M. Cambaceres yonder may shoulder a musket, should our danger re- 
 quire him so to do. We shall thus have a nation built of stone and mortar, 
 capable of resisting the attacks both of time and men." 
 
 AliCii OF TUii CARBOUSBL.
 
 576 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 The great works of public utility to which Napoleon now turned his en- 
 ergies are too numerous to be mentioned. Over forty thousand miles of high 
 roads formed a vast network reticulating the empire. The monumental 
 routes of the Simplon, Mont Cenis, and Mont Genevre were urged to their 
 completion. Fourteen bridges were built, some of which are still regarded 
 as among the grandest monuments in Europe. Two majestic canals were 
 dug, opening all France to artificial navigation. The amazing works con- 
 structed at Antwerp still attract the admiration of the world. All the for- 
 tresses of the empire were carefully examined and repaired. Thirty fount- 
 ains, flowing day and night, embellished Paris. Thousands of laborers reared, 
 as if by magic, the triumphal arches of the Carrousel and the Etoile. The 
 
 ARCH DB L'ETOILE. 
 
 column in the Place Vendome, the exquisite temple of the Madeleine, thft 
 facade of the Legislative Hall, the Palace of the New Exchange, are all from 
 the hand of Napoleon. 
 
 France was never before in such a state of activity and prosperity. Per-
 
 1807.] POLITICAL VIEWS. 577 
 
 feet tranquillity pervaded the empire. The popularity of Napoleon was 
 boundless. England prohibited all commerce upon the seas. The genius 
 of the Emperor opened a new world of commerce upon the land. The roads 
 were crowded with wagons, and the canals were covered with boats laden 
 with the richest merchandise. 
 
 The following candid admissions of Sir Archibald Alison, as he quotes the 
 Report of the Minister of the Interior, will show that the above statements 
 are not exaggerated. 
 
 " And these works, undertaken under the imperial government, were really 
 such as to justify the enthusiastic admiration of a people even less passion- 
 ately devoted than the French to public splendor. They were thus noticed 
 in the Report of the Minister of the Interior in August, 1807, when Napoleon 
 met the Chambers after his return from Tilsit, and, after making every al- 
 lowance for the exaggerated style of such state papers, much remains to at- 
 tract the admiration of succeeding ages, and demonstrate the great objects 
 to which, in domestic administration, the ambition of the Emperor was di- 
 rected. 
 
 " ' Thirteen thousand leagues of public roads,' says the report of the min- 
 ister, ' have been kept in order or repaired ; the two greatest works under- 
 taken for centuries, the roads of Mont Cenis and of the Simplon, have, after 
 six years of labor, been completed. The road from Spain to Italy is in prog- 
 ress ; the Apennines are the theatre of a series of works which will unite 
 Piedmont to the shores of the Mediterranean, and complete the union of 
 Liguria to France; eighteen rivers have seen their navigation improved, or 
 prolonged beyond hitherto impassable barriers, by means of locks, dikes, or 
 towing paths ; four bridges have been erected during the last campaign ; ten 
 others are in full progress ; ten canals, almost all commenced during the 
 present reign, are in full activity. Nor do the maritime harbors offer fewer 
 prodigies. Antwerp, so recently insignificant, has become the centre of our 
 great maritime preparations ; for the first time, that part of the Scheldt sees 
 vessels of seventy-four and eighty guns floating on its bosom ; fourteen ships 
 of the line are on the stocks within its walls ; many are finished, and have 
 descended to Flushing ; that harbor has seen its docks deepened, its entrance 
 improved, and it is already capable of containing a squadron. At Dunkirk 
 and Calais piers have been constructed. At Cherbourg two vast break- 
 waters are erected. At Rochefort and Marseilles equally important mari- 
 time improvements are in progress. The existence of our cotton manufac- 
 tures being secured, investigations are in progress for the discovery of places 
 suited to the culture of that important article. The improvement of the 
 linen fabrics has been the object of constant solicitude. Veterinary schools 
 have been established, and have filled the army and the fields with skillful 
 practitioners. A code is preparing for the regulation of commerce. The 
 school of arts and mechanics at Compeigne flourishes, and has been trans- 
 ferred to Chalons ; others, on a similar plan, are in the course of formation. 
 < Italy opens an extensive mart for our industry. The war, changed into a 
 contest for commercial independence, has become the greatest stimulant to 
 French industry. Every one of our conquests, while it is a market closed to 
 England, is a new encouragement afforded to French enterprise. Nor has
 
 578 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 the capital of this great empire been neglected. It is the emperor's wish 
 that that illustrious city, become the first in the universe, should befit by its 
 splendor so glorious a destiny. At one extremity of Paris a bridge has been 
 completed, to which victory has given the name of Austerlitz. At another, 
 a second is commencing, to which Jena will afford a more glorious appella- 
 tion. The Louvre advances to its' completion, marking, in its matured prog., 
 ress through centuries, the successive ages of Francis I., of Henry IV., of 
 Louis XIV., restored to life by the voice of Napoleon. Fountains without 
 number flow night and day in all parts of the city, testifying, even to the 
 humblest classes, the care which the Emperor bestows on their most trifling 
 accommodation. Two triumphal arches are already erected or founded, one 
 in the centre of the palace inhabited by the Genius of Victory, the other at 
 the extremity of the most beautiful avenue of the finest city in the world. 
 The tomb of Desaix has been erected on the summit of the Alps, whose 
 rugged precipices are not less startled at the monument of our perfection in 
 the arts, than they were by the passage of the artillery drawn by the arms 
 of valor. The fine arts in France are occupied almost entirely in tracing on 
 marble and canvas the glorious exploits of our armies, while the mind of 
 the Emperor, ever meditating fresh triumphs, has selected for his antagonist 
 the Demon of Ignorance, and by the establishment of twelve colleges for the 
 study of law, and gratuitous schools for the study of medicine in all the prin- 
 cipal cities of the empire, has laid the foundation for the extension of gen- 
 eral knowledge in the most essential subjects of general instruction.' " 
 
 " When the French people," says Alison, "saw this magnificent announce- 
 ment of internal improvement, contemporaneous with the official promulga- 
 tion of the treaty of Tilsit, the conquest of Prussia, the restoration of the 
 Grand Duchy of Warsaw, and the erection of the Kingdom of Westphalia, it 
 is not surprising that they were dazzled by the brilliancy of the spectacle, 
 and yielded to the pleasing illusion that the Revolution, nursed in violence 
 and baptized in blood, was to set amid a blaze of unprecedented glory." 
 
 Where is there another monarch to be found who has shown such total 
 disregard for personal luxury, and such entire devotion to the prosperity of 
 his country ? The French, who knew Napoleon, loved him ; and as his true 
 character becomes known throughout the world, he will be loved by every 
 generous heart in every land.
 
 1807.] 
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 579 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 Untiring Industry of Napoleon Letter to the Minister of the Interior The Secretary Meeting 
 of the Institute Expenditures for the Improvement of the City of Paris The Code Napoleon 
 The Writings of the Emperor The Painting by David Plans for establishing a Democratic 
 Aristocracy Calumniations of Napoleon Goldsmith's Life of the Emperor. v 
 
 THE amount of intellectual labor which Napoleon performed seems actu- 
 ally superhuman. No other man has ever approached him in this respect. 
 His correspondence, preserved in the archives of Paris, would amount to 
 irany hundred volumes. His genius illumines every subject upon which he
 
 580 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 treats. The whole expanse of human knowledge seemed familiar to him. 
 He treats of war, government, legislation, education, finance, political econ- 
 omy, theology, philosophy, engineering every subject which can interest 
 the human mind, and he is alike great in all. Notwithstanding the constant 
 and terrible wars through which his banded foes compelled him to struggle, 
 and all the cares of an empire which at times seemed to embrace the whole 
 of Europe, during the twenty years of his reign he wrote or dictated more 
 than the united works of Lope da Vega, Voltaire, and Sir Walter Scott, three 
 of the most voluminous writers of Spain, France, and England. His confi- 
 dential correspondence with the Directory, during the two years from 1796 
 to 1798, which was published in Paris in 1819, amounts to seven large, close- 
 ly-printed volumes. The following letter will be read with interest, as a 
 specimen of his correspondence with his ministers. It strikingly shows his 
 lofty spirit, his noble ambition, his expanded views, his practical wisdom, and 
 the blended familiarity and elevation of tone with which he addressed his 
 ministers : 
 
 " Fontainebleau, November 14, 1807. 
 
 " Monsieur Cretet, Minister of the Interior, You have received the im- 
 perial decree by which I have authorized the sinking fund to lend 1,600,000 
 dollars to the city of Paris. I suppose that you are employed in taking 
 measures which may bring these works to a speedy conclusion, and may 
 augment the revenues of the city. In these works there are some which 
 will not be very productive, but are merely for ornament. There are others, 
 snch as galleries over the markets, the slaughter-houses, &c., which will be 
 very productive ; but to make them so will require activity. The shops for 
 which I have granted you funds are not yet commenced. I suppose you 
 have taken up the funds destined for the fountains, and that you have em- 
 ployed them provisionally for the machine at Marly. Carry on the whole 
 with spirit. This system of advancing money to the city of Paris to aug- 
 ment its branches of revenue, is also intended to contribute to its embellish- 
 ment. My intention is to extend it to other departments. 
 
 " I have many canals to make : that from Dijon to Paris ; that from the 
 Rhine to the Saone ; and that from the Rhine to the Scheldt. These three 
 canals can be carried on as vigorously as could be wished. My intention is, 
 independently of the funds which are granted from the revenues of the state, 
 to seek extraordinary funds for the three canals. For this purpose I should 
 like to sell the canals of St. Quentin, the produce of which might be em- 
 ployed to expedite the works of the canal of Burgundy. In fact, I would 
 sell even the canal of Languedoc, and apply the proceeds to the construction 
 of the canal from the Rhine to the Saone. I suppose that the canal of St. 
 Quentin might be sold for 1,600,000 dollars; that of Loing for as much; 
 and the canal of Languedoc for more. There would then be 6,000,000 dol- 
 lars procured immediately, which I should employ in carrying on the three 
 great canals with all possible rapidity. I have the money. The state will 
 lose nothing ; on the contrary, it will gain ; since, if it loses the revenues of 
 the canals of Loing, St. Quentin, and that of the south, it will gain the prod- 
 uct of the canals of the Scheldt, Napoleon, and Burgundy.
 
 1807.] NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 581 
 
 " When these works are completed, if circumstances permit, I shall sell 
 these in order to make others. Thus my object is to pursue a directly op- 
 posite course to that of England. In England, a charter would have been 
 granted for constructing the canal of Quentin, and the work would have been 
 left to capitalists. I have, on the contrary, begun by constructing the canal 
 of St. Quentin. It has cost, I believe, 1,600,000 dollars; it will produce 
 1 00,000 dollars annually. I shall then lose nothing by selling it to a com- 
 pany for what it has cost me, since with this money I shall construct other 
 canals. Make me, I beg of you, a report upon this subject, otherwise we 
 shall die without seeing these canals navigated. In fact, it is six years since 
 the canal of St. Quentin was begun, and it is not yet finished. Now these 
 canals are of much more importance. The expense of that of Burgundy is 
 estimated at six millions. What can be expended from the general funds of 
 the state does not exceed 250,000 dollars yearly. The departments do not 
 furnish more than 100,000 dollars. It would, then, require twenty years to 
 finish this canal. What may not happen in this time ? Wars and inefficient 
 men will come, and the canals will remain unfinished. 
 
 "The canal from the Rhine to the Scheldt will also cost a large sum. 
 The general funds of the state are not sufficient to carry them on as quickly 
 as we could wish. The canal of Napoleon is in the same situation. Let 
 me know how much it will be possible to expend yearly on each of these 
 three canals. I suppose that, without injuring other works, we might allow 
 to each yearly three or four millions, and that thus, in five or six years, we 
 might see them all navigated. You will inform me how much the existing 
 imposts will furnish for these three canals ; how much I have granted for 
 1808; and the supplementary funds which I granted in 1806, for carry- 
 ing on these works with the greatest activity. You will propose to me to 
 sell the three canals already finished, and at what price it would be best to 
 sell them. I take upon myself the charge of finding purchasers : then we 
 shall have money in abundance. You must tell me, in your report, how 
 much the three which I wish speedily to finish are estimated to cost, and 
 compare it with the sums which the three old canals have cost that I wish 
 to sell. 
 
 "You understand what I wish. My intention is to go beyond your report. 
 Perhaps it will lead to opening a fund for public works, into which the pro- 
 ceeds of the navigation of the canals would be immediately thrown. We 
 might thus grant to this the proceeds of the sale of the three canals, and of 
 others besides, if there are any which can be sold. With this institution we 
 should change the face of the country. 
 
 " I have made the glory of my reign to consist in changing the surface of 
 the territory of my empire. The execution of these great works is as nec- 
 essary to the interests of my people as to my own satisfaction. I attach 
 equal importance and great glory to the suppression of mendicity. Funds 
 are not wanting. But it seems to me that the work proceeds slowly, and 
 meantime years are passing away. We must not pass through this world 
 without leaving traces which may commend our memory to posterity. 
 
 " I am going to be absent for a month. Be ready on the 15th of December 
 to answer all these questions, which you will have examined in detail, that J
 
 582 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. fC H AP. XXXVIII. 
 
 may be able, by a general decree, to put the finishing blow to mendicity. 
 You must find, before the 15th of December, in the reserved funds and the 
 funds of the communes, the necessary means for the support of sixty or one 
 hundred houses for the extirpation of beggary. The places where they shall 
 be erected must be designated, and the regulations completed. Do not ask 
 me for three or four months to obtain further instructions. You have young 
 auditors, intelligent prefects, skillful engineers. Bring all into action, and 
 do not sleep in the ordinary labors of the bureau. It is necessary, likewise, 
 that, at the same time, all that relates to the administration of the public 
 works should be completed, so that at the commencement of the fine season 
 France may present the spectacle of a country without a single beggar, and 
 where all the population may be in action to embellish and render productive 
 our immense territory. 
 
 " You must also prepare for me all that is necessary respecting the meas- 
 ures to be taken for obtaining, from the draining of the marshes of Cottentin 
 and Rochefort, money for supporting the fund for public works, and for fin- 
 ishing the dramings or preparing others. 
 
 " The winter evenings are long; fill your portfolios, that we may be able, 
 during the evenings of these three months, to discuss the means for attaining 
 great results. NAPOLEON." 
 
 At a meeting of the Privy Council, Napoleon appeared much incensed 
 against one of his generals. He attacked him with great severity, asserting 
 that his principles and opinions tended to the entire subversion of the state. 
 A member of the council, who was a particular friend of the absent general, 
 undertook his defense, stating that he lived quietly on his estate, without ob- 
 truding his opinions upon others, and that, consequently, they were productive 
 of no ill effects. The Emperor vehemently commenced a reply, when sud- 
 denly he stopped short, and, turning to the defender of the absent, said, " But 
 he is your friend, sir. You do right to defend him. I had forgotten it. Let 
 us speak of something else." 
 
 M. Daru was at one time Secretary of State. He was distinguished for 
 his indefatigable application to business. Napoleon said of him that " he 
 labored like an ox, while he displayed the courage of a lion." On one occa- 
 sion only were his energies ever known to fail. The Emperor called him at 
 midnight to write from his dictation. M. Daru was so completely overcome 
 by fatigue that he could scarcely hold his pen. At last nature triumphed, 
 and he fell asleep over his paper. After enjoying a sound nap, he. awoke, 
 and to his amazement perceived the Emperor by his side, quietly engaged in 
 writing. As he sat for a moment overwhelmed with confusion, his eyes met 
 those of the Emperor. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Napoleon, with rather an ironical smile, "you see that I 
 have been doing your work, since you would not do it yourself. I suppose 
 that you have eaten a hearty supper and passed a pleasant evening. But 
 business must not be neglected." 
 
 O 
 
 " I pass a pleasant evening, sire !" exclaimed M. Daru ; " I have been for 
 several nights closely engaged in work, without any sleep. Of this your 
 majesty now sees the consequence. I am exceedingly sorry for it."
 
 1807 
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 583 
 
 NAPOLEON AND HIS SECRETARY. 
 
 " Why did you not inform me of this ?" said Napoleon ; " I do not wish to 
 kill you. Go to bed. Good-night, M. Daru." 
 
 Napoleon, conscious of the influence wielded by literary and scientific 
 men, ever kept a watchful eye upon the meetings of the Institute. It was 
 an invariable rule of this body, that a newly-elected member was to deliver 
 a speech eulogistic of the member whom he was succeeding. M. Chateau- 
 briand, a friend of the Bourbons, was succeeding M. Chenier, one of the 
 judges of Louis XVI. Chateaubriand, trampling upon established courtesy, 
 stigmatized the political principles of his predecessor, and proscribed him as 
 a regicide. A scene of uproar immediately ensued, and a stormy and angry 
 debate agitated the assembly. From the Institute the dispute spread rapidly 
 through Paris. Old feuds were revived, and the most bitter animosities re- 
 kindled. Napoleon ordered the speech to be shown to him, pronounced it 
 extravagant in the extreme, and forbade its publication. One of the mem- 
 bers of the Institute, who was also a prominent officer in the Emperor's 
 household, had taken a lively part in the discussion, sustaining the views of 
 M. Chateaubriand. 
 
 At the next levee, when a group of the most distinguished men of France 
 was assembled around the Emperor, the offending officer made his appear- 
 ance. Napoleon thus addressed him : 
 
 " How long is it, sir," said he, with the utmost severity, " since the Insti- 
 tute has presumed to assume the character of a political assembly ? The 
 province of the Institute is to produce poetry and to censure faults of lan- 
 guage. Let it beware how it forsakes the domain of literature, or I shall 
 take measures to bring it back within its limits. And is it possible that you, 
 sir, have sanctioned such an intemperate harangue by your approbation ? If 
 M. de Chateaubriand is insane, or disposed to malevolence, a mad-house may 
 cure him, or a punishment correct him. Yet it may be that the opinions he 
 has advanced are conscientiously his own, and he is not obliged to surrender
 
 584 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 them to my policy, which is unknown to him. But with you the case is to- 
 tally different. You are constantly near my person. You are acquainted 
 with all my acts. You know my will. There may be an excuse in M. de 
 Chateaubriand's favor. There can be none in yours. 
 
 " Sir, I hold you guilty. I consider your conduct as criminal. It tends 
 to bring us back to the days of disorder and confusion, anarchy and blood- 
 shed. Are we then banditti? And am I but a usurper? Sir, I did not 
 ascend the throne by hurling another from it. I found the crown. It had 
 fallen. I snatched it up, and the nation placed it on my head. Respect the 
 nation's act. To submit facts that have recently occurred to public discus- 
 sion in the present circumstances, is to court fresh convulsions, and to be- 
 come an enemy to the public tranquillity. The restoration of monarchy is 
 veiled in mystery, and must remain so. Wherefore then, I pray, this new 
 proposed proscription of members of the Convention and of regicides ? Why 
 are subjects of so delicate a nature again brought to light ? To God alone 
 it must belong to pronounce upon what is no longer within the reach of the 
 judgment of men ! Have I then lost the fruit of all my care ? Have all 
 my efforts been of so little avail, that as soon as my presence no longer re- 
 strains you, you are quite ready once more to bathe in each other's blood ?" 
 
 " Alas ! poor France !" he exclaimed, after a moment's pause, " long yet 
 wilt thou need the guardian's care. I have done all in my power to quell 
 your dissensions. To unite all parties has been the constant object of my 
 solicitude. I have made all meet under the same roof, sit at the same board, 
 and drink of the same cup. I have a right to expect that you will second 
 my endeavors. Since I have taken the reins of government, have I ever 
 inquired into the lives, actions, opinions, or writings of any one ? Imitate 
 my forbearance. I have ever had but one aim. I have ever asked but this 
 one question, 'Will you sincerely assist me in promoting the true interest of 
 France ?' All those who have answered affirmatively have been placed by 
 me in a straight road, cased in a rock, and without issue on either side. 
 Through this I have urged them on to the other extremity, where my finger 
 pointed to the honor, the glory, and the splendor of France." 
 
 This reprimand was so severe, that the person to whom it was addressed, 
 a man of honor arid delicate feelings, determined to ask an audience the next 
 day, in order to tender his resignation. He was admitted to the presence of 
 the Emperor, who immediately said to him, 
 
 " My dear sir, you are come on account of the conversation of yesterday. 
 You felt hurt on the occasion, and I have felt no less so. But it was a piece 
 of advice which I thought it right to give to more than one person. If it has 
 the desired effect of producing some public good, we must not either of us 
 regret the circumstance. Think no more about it." 
 
 Napoleon introduced this year into the financial department the most rigid 
 system of accounts by double entry. The decree requiring this is in force 
 to the present day. It has rendered the French system of accounts the most 
 sure, the most accurate, and the most clear of any in Europe. 
 
 In one of the meetings of the council, Napoleon proposed that long gal- 
 leries, or rather streets, covered with glass, for pedestrians only, should be 
 constructed, to shelter buyers and sellers from the vicissitudes of the weather.
 
 1807.] 
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 585 
 
 This was the origin of those brilliant Passages, where every visitor to Paris 
 loiters away so many pleasant hours. Forty slaughter-houses had deformed 
 Pans, filling the air with pestilent odors, and paining the eye with the revolt- 
 ing necessities of the shambles. At the suggestion of Napoleon they were 
 all removed. Four large and peculiarly appropriate houses were construct- 
 ed for these purposes outside of the city, and near the four principal en- 
 trances to the metropolis. 
 
 THE PASSAGES. 
 
 The generals and the soldiers who had endured such wasting fatigue, and 
 who had achieved such herculean enterprises for France, were most mag- 
 nificently rewarded. Besides their regular pay, nearly four millions of dol- 
 lars were expended in gifts, as an expression of gratitude. A handsome an- 
 nuity was settled upon every wounded soldier. Napoleon seemed never 
 weary in lavishing favors upon those who, in the fields of blood, had defend- 
 ed and established the independence of France. 
 
 He was magnificent in his provision for others. He was simple, frugal, 
 economical in the highest degree, in every thing which related to himself. 
 With an eagle eye, he guarded against the slightest misapplication of the 
 public funds. 
 
 The adopted mother of Josephine having died at Martinique, he directed 
 that the negroes and negresses who had served her should be made free, 
 and placed in a condition of comfort for the rest of their lives. He ordered 
 the number of Christian chapels to be increased to 30,000, that the benefits 
 of divine service might be extended to every village in the empire. He en- 
 dowed several theological seminaries to encourage suitable persons to entei 
 the priesthood.
 
 586 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 The nation insisted that the civic code, which had become the crowning 
 glory of France, should be called the Code Napoleon. 
 
 " Assuredly," says Thiers, " if ever title was merited, it was this ; for 
 that code was as much the work of Napoleon as were the victories of Aus- 
 terlitz and of Jena. He had soldiers who lent him their arms. He had 
 lawyers who lent him their knowledge. But to the force of his will, to the 
 soundness of his judgment, was owing the completion of that great work." 
 
 It will remain through all time a memorial, which never can be sullied, 
 of Napoleon's genius and philanthropy. The Emperor wrote to all the 
 princes under his influence, urging them to introduce into their respective 
 states this code of justice and of civil equality. It was thus established in 
 large portions of Europe, conveying, wherever it went, perfect equality of 
 rights, and putting an end to feudal tyranny. 
 
 In his intense desire to promote the grandeur of France, Napoleon appre- 
 ciated, perhaps more highly than any other sovereign, the glory of intellect- 
 ual achievements. Science, literature, arts, he encouraged in every possible 
 way. He was the first general the world has ever known who united with 
 his army a literary and scientific corps, to extend the bounds of human 
 knowledge. Under his fostering care, Lagrange gave a new power to ab- 
 stract calculation. La Place, striding beyond the limits attained by Galileo, 
 Kepler, and Newton, rendered his name as immortal as those celestial bodies 
 whose movements he had calculated with such sublime precision. Cuvier, 
 exploring the mausoleums of past creations, revealed the wondrous history 
 of our planet, when " the earth was without form and void, and darkness 
 was upon the face of the deep." 
 
 The world is destined to be as much astonished by the writings of Napo- 
 leon as it has been by his deeds. Neither Bourbon nor Orleanist has been 
 willing to do justice to his fame. His letters, his proclamations, his bulle- 
 tins, his instructions to his ministers, glow with the noblest eloquence of 
 genius. They will soon be given to the world ; and they will disperse 
 much of that mist of calumny and detraction which have so long sullied his 
 renown. No one can peruse the papers of this extraordinary man without 
 admiring the majesty of his all-comprehensive mind. The clearness, the 
 precision, the fervor, the imperious demonstration, and the noble simplicity 
 which are impressed upon all of his utterances, give him a place in the fore- 
 most ranks of science, of literature, and of eloquence. 
 
 " Singular destiny," exclaims Thiers, after perusing volumes of manu- 
 scripts from his pen, " of that prodigious man, to be the greatest writer of 
 his time, while he was its greatest captain, its greatest legislator, its greatest 
 administrator" 
 
 Every man of refined genius admires the classical productions of the 
 scholars of Greece and Rome. Napoleon, from a natural appreciation of 
 the beautiful, strove to create an enthusiasm for classical studies in the uni- 
 versity. There is an element of melancholy which pervades every noble 
 mind. Amid the mausoleums of dead empires such spirits love to linger. 
 The utilitarianism of Napoleon was beautifully blended with the highest po- 
 etic sensibility The sun, which ripens the corn, and fills the succulent herb 
 with nutriment, also pencils with beauty the violet and the rose.
 
 NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 
 
 587 
 
 1807.] 
 
 To encourage exertion, and to rescue merit from hostile or unjust detrac- 
 tion, Napoleon had classes of the Institute organized to give an impartial re- 
 port upon the progress of literature, the arts, and the sciences. These reports 
 were read to the Emperor in the presence of the Council of State, and mu- 
 nificent rewards were conferred upon the deserving. When the reading of 
 the first report was finished, Napoleon said to the deputies of the Institute, 
 
 "Gentlemen, if the French language is become a universal language, it 
 is to the men of genius who have sat, or who still sit among you, that we are 
 indebted for this. I attach a value to the success of your labors. They 
 tend to enlighten my people. They are essential to the glory of my crown. 
 I have heard with satisfaction the report you have just made to me. You 
 may rely on my protection." 
 
 The approbation of the Emperor was the highest reward which genius 
 could receive. Desirous of giving an impulse to the arts of design, he visit- 
 ed, with Josephine and a brilliant assemblage of his court, the studio of the 
 
 NAPOLEON IN THE STUDIO OF DAVID. 
 
 painter David. This distinguished artist had just completed the picture of the 
 Coronation. He had selected the moment when the Emperor was placing 
 the crown upon the brow of the Empress. The painting had been criticised 
 as rather representing the coronation of Josephine than that of Napoleon. 
 The Emperor contemplated for a few moments in silence the impressive
 
 588 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVIH. 
 
 scene which the pencil of the artist had so vividly delineated ; then turning 
 to the painter, he said, 
 
 " Monsieur David, this is well very well indeed. The Empress, my moth- 
 er, the Emperor, all are most appropriately placed. You have made me a 
 French knight. I am gratified that you have thus transmitted to future ages 
 the proofs of affection I was desirous of testifying toward the Empress." 
 Then advancing two steps, and turning toward the painter, he uncovered 
 his head, and, bowing profoundly, said, " Monsieur David, I salute you." 
 
 " Sire," replied the painter, with admirable tact, " I receive the compli- 
 ment of the Emperor in the name of all the artists in the empire. I am 
 happy in being the individual one you deign to make the channel of such an 
 honor." 
 
 This painting was afterward suspended in the grand museum of the Lou- 
 vre. Napoleon, in a second visit, met by appointment M. David and all his 
 pupils. He conferred upon those young artists who had distinguished them- 
 selves the decoration of the Legion of Honor. He also conferred upon M. 
 David the dignity of an officer in that honorary corps. 
 
 The Revolution had destroyed the feudal throne of the Bourbons but to 
 construct a democratic throne of vastly surpassing splendor. It seems to be 
 essential to a monarchy that it should be surrounded by an aristocracy. Na- 
 poleon was a democratic emperor. He was the choice of the people, and 
 was ever studying their interests. He now displayed his mighty genius in 
 the attempt to create a democratic aristocracy. This, perhaps, might have 
 been possible, by avoiding the incorporation of the hereditary element. Na- 
 poleon wished to surround his throne with great families, who should con- 
 tribute to the splendor of French society without doing violence to the prin- 
 ciples of republican equality. He thought that this could be accomplished 
 by allowing the members of the new nobility no exclusive privileges, and by 
 presenting these honorable distinctions as a reward to all who could earn 
 them by their services. He had at his disposal immortal names to confer 
 upon those who had performed immortal exploits. The new nobility, proud 
 of titles won upon the fields of Rivoli, Castiglione, Montebello, Auerstadt, 
 and Eylau, were regarded with contempt by the ancient aristocracy, who 
 could trace a proud ancestral line through the dimness of departed centuries. 
 
 Stable-boys, tailors' apprentices, and merchants' clerks, soaring upon the 
 pinions of genius from uncongenial employments into the regions of mighty 
 enterprise and renown, though decorated with the loftiest titles, and burden- 
 ed with wealth, were still regarded with contempt by the impoverished and 
 undistinguished descendants of the Condes, the Guises, and the Montmoren- 
 cies. Napoleon was fully conscious of this difficulty. In speaking of the 
 subject at St. Helena, he said : 
 
 "An aristocracy is the true, the only support of a monarchy. Without it, 
 the state is a vessel without a rudder a balloon in the air. A true aristoc- 
 racy, however, must be ancient. Therein consists its real force, its talis- 
 manic charm. That was the only thing which I could not create. Reason- 
 able democracy will never aspire to any thing more than obtaining an equal 
 power of elevation to all. The true policy in these times was to employ 
 the remains of the aristocracy with the forms and the spirit of democracy.
 
 1807.] NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 599 
 
 Above all, it was necessary to take advantage of the ancient historic names. 
 It was the only way to throw the halo of antiquity over our modern in- 
 stitutions. 
 
 " My designs on this were quite formed, but I had not time to bring them 
 to maturity. It was this : that every lineal descendant of an old marshal or 
 minister should be entitled at any time to get himself declared a duke by the 
 government upon proving that he had the requisite fortune ; every descend- 
 ant of a general or governor of a province to obtain the title of a count upon 
 obtaining a similar endowment. This system would have advanced some, 
 excited the hopes of others, awakened the emulation of all, without injuring 
 any one. Pretty toys, it is true, but such as are indispensable for the gov- 
 ernment of men. Old and corrupted nations can not be governed on the 
 same principles with those which are simple and virtuous. For one in these 
 times who would sacrifice all to the public good, there are thousands and 
 millions who are governed only by their interests, their vanity, or their en- 
 joyment. 
 
 " To attempt to regenerate such a people in a day would be an act of mad- 
 ness. The true genius of the workman consists in making a right use of the 
 materials which he has at his disposal, to extract good even from the ele- 
 ments which appear at first sight most adverse to his designs. There is the 
 real secret of the revival of titles, ribbons, and crosses. And, after all, these 
 .toys are attended with few inconveniences, and are not without some advant- 
 ages. In the state of civilization in which we are placed, they are proper 
 to awaken the respect of the multitude, and not without influence in produc- 
 ing a feeling of self-respect in their owners. They satisfy the vanity of the 
 weak, without giving any just cause of offense to the strong." 
 
 The attempt to unite republican equality with imperial splendor is vain. 
 But Napoleon was now involved in a labyrinth of events from which no finite 
 wisdom could extricate him. That France was incapable of sustaining a 
 true republic, ten years of anarchy had conclusively proved. But Napoleon 
 was now gathering all power into his own hands, and surrounding himself 
 with a proud hereditary aristocracy. Though he was disposed to conse- 
 crate all his energies to the welfare of the people, he was laying the founda- 
 tions of a perfect despotism. He seems to have had some misgivings him- 
 self respecting the expediency of appointing an hereditary aristocracy. 
 
 O'Meara remarked to Napoleon at St. Helena that it had excited some sur- 
 prise that he never gave a dukedom in France to any person, although he had 
 created marly dukes elsewhere. 
 
 He replied, " It would have created great discontent among the people. 
 If, for example, I had made one of my marshals Duke of Bourgogne, it would 
 have excited great alarm in Bourgogne. They would have conceived that 
 some feudal rights and territory were attached to the title. The nation 
 hated the old nobility so much, that the creation of any rank resembling 
 them would have given universal discontent, which I, powerful as I was, 
 dared not venture upon. I instituted the new nobility to destroy the old. 
 The greater part of those I created had sprung from the people. Every 
 private soldier had a right to look up to the title of duke. I believe that I 
 acted wrong in doing even this. It lessened that system of equality which 
 VOL. II. T
 
 590 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 pleased the people so much. But if I had created dukes with a French title, 
 it would have been considered as a revival of the old feudal privileges with 
 which the nation had been cursed so long." 
 
 The power of Napoleon was absolute. Circumstances which he could 
 not control rendered it necessary that it should be so. It was essential that 
 he should be invested with dictatorial authority to repel the foes banded 
 against the independence of France. Every intelligent man in France rec- 
 ognized this necessity. That Napoleon devoted this absolute power to the 
 glory of France, and not to his own selfish indulgence, no one can deny. 
 He says, with his accustomed glow of eloquence, 
 
 " I had established a government the most compact, carrying on its oper- 
 ations with the utmost rapidity, and capable of the most nervous efforts ; 
 and, truly, nothing less was required to triumph over the immense difficul- 
 ties with which we were surrounded, and to produce the marvels which we 
 accomplished. The organization of the prefectures, their action and results, 
 were alike admirable. The same impulse was given at the same instant to 
 more than forty millions of men. By the aid of these centres of local activ- 
 ity, the movement was as rapid at all the extremities as at the heart of the 
 empire. Strangers who visited us were astonished at this system. They 
 never failed to attribute the immense results which were attained to that 
 uniformity of action pervading so great a space. Each prefect, with the au- 
 thority and local patronage with which he was invested, was in himself a 
 little emperor. Nevertheless, as he enjoyed no force but from the central 
 authority, owed all his lustre to official employment, and had no natural or 
 hereditary connection with the territory over which his dominion extended, 
 the system had all the advantages of the feudal government without any of 
 its inconveniences. It was indispensable to clothe them with all that au- 
 thority. I found myself made dictator by the force of circumstances. It 
 was necessary, therefore, that all the minor springs should be entirely de- 
 pendent on, and in complete harmony with, the grand central moving power." 
 
 The efficiency of this government no one can question. That France was 
 driven to its adoption by the incessant attacks of its foes can not be denied. 
 That this alone enabled Napoleon for twenty years to triumph over the com- 
 bined despots of Europe in arms against him, is equally beyond a doubt. 
 France, in her peril, surrendered herself to a dictator in whom she reposed 
 confidence, and invested him with absolute power. Nobly did Napoleon re- 
 quite the trust. He concentrated every energy of his body and every thought 
 of his soul to the promotion of the welfare of France. Wherever he erred, 
 it was in the path of a lofty and a generous ambition. 
 
 His power was as absolute as that of Alexander ; but the Czar was the 
 monarch of the nobles, Napoleon the chosen sovereign of the people. The 
 centralization of power was, however, appalling. The Emperor selected the. 
 members of the Council of State, the Senate, and the legislative bodies. He 
 appointed all the officers in the army and the navy. The whole police of 
 France, all the magistrates, the judges of all the courts ; all persons connect- 
 ed with the customs, the revenue, and the excise ; all the ministers of relig- 
 ion, the teachers in schools, academies, and universities, the postmasters, and 
 all persons concerned in the administration of roads, public buildings, canals,
 
 1807.] NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL. 591 
 
 fortresses, &c., were either directly or indirectly subjected to the appoint- 
 ment of the Emperor. 
 
 One day Napoleon at St. Helena was reading the infamous memoir of his 
 life by Goldsmith. He found himself there accused of every crime which a 
 demon could perpetrate. Calmly laying down the book, he said, 
 
 " After all, let them abridge, suppress, and mutilate as much as they please, 
 they will find it very difficult to throw me entirely into the shade. The his- 
 torian of France can not pass over the Empire. If he have any honesty, he 
 will not fail to render me my share of justice. The facts speak of them- 
 selves. They shine like the sun. 
 
 " I closed the gulf of anarchy and cleared the chaos. I purified the Rev- 
 olution, dignified nations, and established kings. I excited every kind of 
 emulation, rewarded every kind of merit, and extended the limits of glory. 
 This is at least something. And on what point can I be assailed on which 
 an historian could not defend me ? Can it be for my intentions ? But even 
 here I can find absolution. Can it be for my despotism? It may be dem- 
 onstrated that the dictatorship was absolutely necessary. Will it be said 
 that I restrained liberty ? It can be proved that licentiousness, anarchy, and 
 the greatest irregularities still haunted the threshold of freedom. Shall I be 
 accused of having been too fond of war ? It can be shown that I always re- 
 ceived the first attack. Will it be said that I aimed at universal monarchy ? 
 It can be proved that this was merely the result of fortuitous circumstances, 
 and that our enemies led me step by step to this determination. Lastly, 
 shall I be blamed for my ambition ? This passion I must doubtless be al- 
 lowed to possess, and that in no small degree. But, at the same time, my 
 ambition was of the highest and noblest kind that perhaps ever existed that 
 of establishing and consecrating the empire of reason, and the full exercise 
 and complete enjoyment of all the human faculties. And here the historian 
 will probably feel compelled to regret that such ambition should not have 
 been fulfilled and gratified. This is my whole history in a few words."* 
 
 * " Collated with the eight hundred thousand sterling ($4,000,000,000) of British debt, half of it 
 created to put him down, it is one of the miracles of Napoleon that he waged all his enormous wars 
 without contracting a debt or borrowing a cent, without discounting a note or using one not forth- 
 with convertible into coin ; and when expelled from the throne, left in the cellars of his palace a 
 large sum many millions in cash economized from family show for public service. The imperial 
 budget of France, when he ruled fifty millions of subjects, was little more than half of the royal 
 budget when Louis Philippe reigned over thirty-four millions. The standard of probity was as 
 much higher in Napoleon's time. Some years of peace were purchased by Louis XVIII and 
 Charles X. contracting debts to pay foreign governments for conquering, and their troops for occu- 
 pying France, and to reimburse restored nobles for their estates confiscated, because they deserted 
 and made war upon their country. Those debts are the crushing inheritance and the greatest dif- 
 ficulty of republicanized France, which Napoleon left at least partly free, and altogether clear of 
 debt. Although it may be said that he supported France by the conquests which England, by suc- 
 cessive coalitions, forced him to make, yet the abundance, regularity, and management of the na- 
 tional income and expenditures in his time, without an idea of what is now recognized as the sci- 
 ence of political economy, without paper money and without debt, is a monument as amazing as 
 his code of laws." IngersolVs Second War, vol. i., p. 157, second Series.
 
 592 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 SCENES IN PARIS. 
 
 Levee at the Tuileries The little Boy Address to the Council of State Speech of the Presi- 
 dent Visit of the Emperor to the Female School Heroism of a young Lady Advice to Je- 
 rome, King of Westphalia Napoleon's Remarks at St. Helena Testimony of Lockhart Sir 
 Richard Cobden. 
 
 THE 15th of August, 1807, Napoleon was thirty-eight years of age. A 
 brilliant party was assembled at the Tuileries. It was an evening of sur- 
 passing loveliness. All Paris, intoxicated with enthusiasm, thronged the 
 spacious garden of the palace. With loud acclamations they called for their 
 sovereign. He repeatedly appeared in the balcony, holding the Empress by 
 the hand, and surrounded by a brilliant group. Spontaneous bursts of ap- 
 plause from one hundred thousand voices greeted him whenever he appeared. 
 Taking the arm of his faithful friend Duroc, Napoleon, in disguise, left the 
 palace, and mingled with the groups crowding the garden. Every where he 
 heard his name pronounced with gratitude and love. A little boy was shout- 
 ing with transport, Vive rEmpereur ! Napoleon caught the child in his arms. 
 "Why do you shout in that manner?" said he. "My father and mother," 
 replied the child, "taught me to love and bless the Emperor." Napoleon 
 conversed with the parents. He found that they had fled from the horrors 
 of civil war in Brittany, and had found employment and competence in Par- 
 is. With glowing hearts they testified to the blessings which Napoleon had 
 conferred upon France. The next day a present from the Emperor inform- 
 ed them to whom they had unbosomed their gratitude. 
 
 On the ensuing day, Napoleon, accompanied by his marshals, and follow- 
 ed by an immense concourse of people, met the Council of State, the Senate, 
 and the Legislative Body. He thus addressed them : 
 
 " Gentlemen, Since your last session, new wars, new triumphs, new treat- 
 ies of peace have changed the political state of Europe. All nations rejoice 
 with one accord to see the influence which England exercised over the 
 Continent destroyed forever. In all that I have done, I have had in view 
 solely the prosperity of my people, more dear in my eyes than my own 
 glory. I am desirous for maritime peace. No resentment shall be allowed 
 to interfere with this desire. But, whatever be the issue which the decrees 
 of Providence have allotted to the maritime war, my people shall find me 
 ever the same, and I shall ever find my people worthy of me. Your con- 
 duct, when your Emperor was more than fifteen hundred miles away, has 
 heightened my esteem. The proofs of attachment which you have given 
 me have excited my warmest emotions. 
 
 " I have contemplated various plans for simplifying and improving our in- 
 stitutions. I have created several imperial titles, to give new lustre to dis- 
 tinguished subjects, to honor eminent services by eminent rewards, and to
 
 1807.] 
 
 SCENES IN PARIS 
 
 593 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE CHILD. 
 
 prevent the revival of any feudal title incompatible with our Constitution. 
 My Minister of the Interior will inform you of the public works which have 
 been commenced or finished, But what remains to be done is of far greater 
 importance. I intend that in all parts of my empire, even in the smallest 
 hamlet, the prosperity of the citizen and the value of land shall be aug- 
 mented by the effect of the general system of improvement which I have 
 conceived. Gentlemen, your assistance will be necessary for me to arrive 
 at this great result. I have a right to rely firmly upon it." 
 
 This speech was heard with deep emotion and applauded with transport. 
 After Napoleon had retired, the President of the Legislative Body gave ut- 
 terance to the almost unanimous sentiment of France in the following 
 words : 
 
 " The picture set before our eyes seems to present the image of one of 
 those pacific kings exclusively engaged in the internal administration of his
 
 594 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 dominion. And yet all these useful labors, all these wise projects, were or- 
 dered and conceived amid the din of arms, on the furthest confines of con- 
 quered Prussia, and on the frontiers of threatened Russia. If it be true that, 
 at the distance of five hundred leagues from the capital, amid the cares and 
 the fatigues of war, a hero prepared so many benefits, how is he about to in- 
 crease them by returning among us ! The public welfare will wholly en- 
 gage him, and his glory will be the more touching for it. 
 
 " He displaces, he contracts, he extends the boundaries of empires. All 
 are borne away by his ascendency. Well ! this man, covered with so much 
 glory, promises us still greater. Peaceable and disarmed, he will prove that 
 this invincible force, which, as it runs, overturns thrones and empires, is be- 
 neath that truly royal wisdom which preserves states by peace, which en- 
 riches them by agriculture and industry, adorns them with master-pieces of 
 art, and founds them everlastingly on the twofold support of morality and 
 the laws." 
 
 Napoleon took great interest in the female school which he had establish- 
 ed at Ecouen. He often made presents to the young ladies who distinguish- 
 ed themselves. 
 
 One day, on a visit, he found all the young ladies engaged in needle-work. 
 After having addressed a few pleasant words to each of the classes, he play- 
 fully asked a bright-looking girl, 
 
 " How many needles-full of thread does it take to make a shirt ?" 
 
 She archly replied, " Sire, I should need but one if I could have that suf 
 ficiently long." 
 
 NAPOLEON AT THE FEMALE SCHOOL. 
 
 Napoleon was so pleased with the readiness of the reply, that he immedi- 
 ately gave a gold chain to the young lady. It became, of course, to her a 
 priceless treasure. All the pupils of the school most enthusiastically loved 
 the Emperor.
 
 1807.] SCENES IN PARIS. 595 
 
 After the restoration of the Bourbons, an order was issued that every thing 
 should be removed from the institution which could call to mind the Usurper. 
 The gifts which the pupils had received from *,he Emperor were taken from 
 them. But Miss Brouard kept her chain in her bosom. She had declared 
 that she would part with it only with her life. One day a servant perceived 
 it. The fact was reported to the principal. The chain was demanded. It 
 was refused. She was reported to the higher authorities. The chain was 
 again demanded. She replied, " It was the gift of the Emperor, and I will 
 keep it, be the consequences what they may, till I die." She was imprison- 
 ed in the Hall of Correction, where she remained in solitude several days. 
 Still she would not yield. The whole school was assembled together, and 
 Miss Brouard, though a universal favorite, was expelled. 
 
 A short time after, one of the ladies of the Bourbon family, the Duchess 
 of Angouleme, made a visit to the school. All the young ladies were order- 
 ed, as soon as she should enter, to shout, " Vive le Roi /" in honor of the 
 Bourbon king. The duchess entered, and, to her utter consternation, was 
 greeted with the unanimous acclaim, " Vive TEmpereur!" 
 
 The Count de Lille, afterward Louis XVIII., then residing in Russia, 
 made some movement indicative of a new conspiracy to recover the Bourbon 
 throne. Alexander, that his good faith might not be suspected, communi- 
 cated the fact, through General Savary, to Napoleon. The Emperor re- 
 plied, " Thank the Emperor Alexander for the communication which he di- 
 rected you to make to me. He is mistaken if he supposes that I attach the 
 least importance to any thing that the Count de Lille can do. If he is tired 
 of his residence in Russia, he may come to Versailles. I will make every 
 necessary provision for him." 
 
 Napoleon was minutely informed of every thing that was passing in the 
 court of St. Petersburg. Alexander, often the victim of wayward passions, 
 had become so captivated by a beautiful woman, that all his time was ab- 
 sorbed in devotion to her. At the close of a letter of diplomatic instructions, 
 Napoleon wrote to his minister, 
 
 " It is not a matter of indifference to me to observe the character of that 
 man who was born a sovereign. A woman turns the head of the autocrat 
 of all the Russias ! All the women in the world would not make me lose 
 an hour. Continue to acquaint me of every thing. Let me know the most 
 minute details. The private life of a man is a mirror in which we may see 
 many useful lessons reflected." 
 
 After the marriage of Jerome with the daughter of the King of Wurtem- 
 berg, as the young couple left Paris for their kingdom of Westphalia, Napo- 
 leon gave the following instructions to his brother : 
 
 " My brother, I think you ought to go to Stuttgard, as you have been in- 
 vited thither by the King of Wiirtemberg. You will proceed thence to Cas- 
 sel with all the pomp with which the hopes of your people will induce 1 hem 
 to surround you. You will convoke the deputies of the tow r ns, the ministers 
 of all religions, the deputies of the states now existing, taking care that there 
 shall be half not noble, half noble. Before that assembly, so composed, you 
 will receive the Constitution and swear to maintain it. 
 
 " Appoint at first only half of your counselors of state. That number
 
 596 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 will be sufficient for commencing business. Take care that the majority be 
 composed of non-nobles, but without letting any one perceive this habitual 
 caution to keep up a majority of the third estate in all offices. I except from 
 this some places at court, to which, upon the same principles, the highest 
 names must be called. But in your ministries, in your councils, if possible, 
 in your courts of appeal, in your administrations, the greater part of the per- 
 sons whom you employ should not be nobles. This conduct will go to the 
 heart of Germany, and, perhaps, mortify the other class. It is sufficient not 
 to use any affectation in this conduct. Take care never to enter into dis- 
 cussions, nor to let it be understood that you attach such importance to the 
 advancement of the third estate. The avowed principle is to select talents 
 wherever they are to be found. 
 
 " What is of particular consequence to me is, that you delay not in the 
 least the introduction of the Napoleon Code. The happiness of your people 
 is of importance to me, not only for the influence which it may have upon 
 your glory and mine, but also under the point of view of the general system 
 of Europe. Listen not to those who tell you that your people, accustomed to 
 servitude, will receive your benefits unthankfully. They are more enlight- 
 ened in the kingdom of Westphalia than some persons would fain persuade 
 you. Your throne will never be firmly founded but on the confidence and 
 the love of the population. What the people of Germany desire with impa- 
 tience is, that individuals who are not noble, and possess talents, should have 
 an equal right to your consideration and to office ; that every species of 
 bondage, and all intermediate restrictions between the sovereign and the 
 lowest class, should be entirely abolished. 
 
 " The benefits of the Napoleon Code, the publicity of law proceedings, the 
 institution of juries, will be so many distinguished characteristics of your 
 monarchy. And, if I must tell you my whole mind, I reckon more upon 
 their effects for the extension and consolidation of that monarchy than upon 
 the results of the greatest victories. Your people must enjoy a liberty, an 
 equality, a prosperity unknown to the other people of Germany. This lib- 
 eral government will produce, in one way or another, changes the most sal- 
 utary to the system of the confederation and to the power of your monarchy. 
 This mode of governing will be a stronger barrier to separate you from Prus- 
 sia than the Elbe, than fortresses, than the protection of France. What 
 people would be willing to return under the arbitrary Prussian government 
 after it has tasted the benefits of a wise and liberal administration ? The 
 people of Germany, those of France, Italy, Spain, desire equality, and require 
 liberal ideas. It is now several years that I have directed the affairs of Eu- 
 rope, and I have had occasion to convince myself that the grumbling of the 
 privileged classes was contrary to the general opinion. Be a constitutional 
 king. If the reason and the intelligence of your times were not sufficient in 
 your position, good policy would enjoin it." 
 
 " It was the subject of my perpetual dreams," said Napoleon at St. Helena, 
 "to render Paris the real capital of Europe. I sometimes wished it, for in- 
 stance, to become a city with a population of two, three, or four millions in 
 a word, something fabulous, colossal, unexampled until our days, and with 
 public establishments suitable to its population.
 
 1807.] SCENES IN PARIS. 597 
 
 " Had Heaven but granted me twenty years and a little more leisure, an- 
 cient Paris would have been sought for in vain. Not a trace of it would have 
 been left. I should have changed the face of France. Archimedes promised 
 every thing provided he was supplied with a resting-place for his lever. I 
 should have done as much, wherever I could have found a point of support 
 for my energy, my perseverance, and my budgets. A world might be cre- 
 ated with budgets. I should have displayed the difference between a con- 
 stitutional emperor and a king of France. The kings of France have never 
 possessed any administrative or municipal institution. They have merely 
 shown themselves great lords, who ruined their men of business. 
 
 " The nation itself has nothing in its character but what is transitory and 
 perishable. Every thing is done for the gratification of the moment and of 
 caprice nothing for duration. That is our motto ; and it is exemplified by 
 our manners in France. Every one passes his life in doing and undoing. 
 Nothing is ever left behind. Is it not unbecoming that Paris should not 
 possess even a French theatre, or an Opera House, in any respect worthy of 
 its high claims ? 
 
 " I have often set myself against the feasts which the city of Paris wished 
 to give me. They consisted, of dinners, balls, artificial fireworks, at an ex- 
 pense of two or three hundred thousand dollars, the preparations for which 
 obstructed the public for several days, and which afterward cost as much to 
 take away as they had cost in their construction. I proved that with these 
 idle expenses they might have erected lasting and magnificent monuments. 
 
 " One must have gone through as much as I have in order to be acquaint- 
 ed with all the difficulties of doing good. If the business related to chim- 
 neys, partitions, and furniture for some individuals in the imperial palaces, 
 the work was quick and effectual. But if it were necessary to lengthen the 
 garden of the Tuileries, to render some quarters wholesome, to clean some 
 sewers, and to accomplish a task beneficial to the public, in which some par- 
 ticular person had no direct interest, I found it requisite to exert all the en- 
 ergy of my character, to write six, ten letters a day, and to get into a down- 
 right passion. It was in this way that I paid out as much as six millions 
 of dollars in sewers, for which nobody was ever to thank me. I pulled down 
 a property of six millions in houses in front of the Tuileries for the purpose 
 of forming the Carrousel and throwing open the Louvre. What I did is 
 immense. What I had resolved to do, and what I projected, were still much 
 more so." 
 
 Some may suppose that the above account of Napoleon's administrative 
 labors is the glowing eulogy of a friend. Read, then, the testimony of an 
 English historian. Every page of Lockhart's Life of Napoleon bears the 
 impress of his hostility to the mighty emperor against whom England waged 
 such unrelenting warfare ; and yet Lockhart is constrained to witness to 
 the following facts : 
 
 " Wherever the Emperor was, in the midst of his hottest campaigns, he 
 examined the details of administration at home more closely, perhaps, than 
 other sovereigns of not half so great an empire did during years of profound- 
 est peace. His dearest amusement, when he had nothing else to do, was to 
 solve problems in geometry or algebra. He carried this passion into every
 
 598 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [C H AP. XXXIX. 
 
 department of affairs. Having with his own eye detected some errors of 
 importance in the public accounts shortly after his administration began, 
 there prevailed henceforth, in all the financial records of the state, such 
 clearness and accuracy as are not often exemplified in those of a large pri- 
 vate fortune. Nothing was below his attention, and he found time for every 
 thing. The humblest functionary -discharged his duty under a lively sense 
 of the Emperor's personal superintendence. The omnipresence of his police 
 came in lieu, whenever politics were not touched upon, of the guarding pow- 
 ers of a free press, a free senate, and public opinion. Except in political 
 cases, the trial by jury was the right of every citizen. 
 
 " The Code Napoleon, that elaborate system of jurisprudence-, in the form- 
 ation of which the Emperor labored personally, along with the most eminent 
 lawyers and enlightened men of the time, was a boon of inestimable value to 
 France. ' I shall go down to posterity,' said he, with just pride, ' with the 
 Code in my hand.' It was the first uniform system of laws which the French 
 monarchy had ever possessed, being drawn up by consummate skill and wis- 
 dom. It at this day forms the code not only of France, but of a great por- 
 tion of Europe besides. Justice, as between man and man, was administer- 
 ed on sound and fixed principles, and by unimpeached tribunals. 
 
 " In the splendor of his victories, in the magnificence of his roads, bridges, 
 aqueducts, and other monuments, in the general predominance to which the 
 nation seemed to be raised through the genius of its chief, compensation was 
 found for all financial burdens, consolation for all domestic calamities, and an 
 equivalent for that liberty in whose name the tyrant had achieved his first 
 glories. But it must not be omitted that Napoleon, in every department of 
 his government, made it his first rule to employ the men best fitted, in his 
 mind, to do honor to his service by their talents and diligence. 
 
 " He gratified the French nation by adorning the capital, and by display- 
 ing in the Tuileries a court as elaborately magnificent as that of Louis XIV. 
 himself. The old nobility, returning from their exile, mingled in those proud 
 halls with the heroes of the revolutionary campaigns, and over all the cere- 
 monies of these stately festivities Josephine presided with the grace and ele- 
 gance of one born to be a queen. In the midst of the pomp and splendor of 
 a court, in the ante-chambers where kings jostled each other, Napoleon him- 
 self preserved the plain and unadorned simplicity of his original dress and 
 manners. The great Emperor continued throughout to labor more diligent- 
 ly than any subaltern in office ; Napoleon, as Emperor, had little time for 
 social pleasures. His personal friends were few. His days were given to 
 labor, and his nights to study. If he was not with his army in the field, he 
 traversed the provinces, examining with his own eyes the minutest details 
 of arrangement, and even from the centre of his camp he Was continually 
 issuing edicts which showed the accuracy of his observation during those 
 journeys, and his anxiety to promote, by any means consistent with his great 
 purpose, the welfare of every French district, town, or even village." 
 
 Such was Napoleon as delineated by the pen of his enemies. Napoleon 
 left no means untried to promote peace with England. He exhausted the 
 arts of diplomacy and of conciliation to secure that end. There never was 
 a greater historic error than to suppose Napoleon accountable for those long
 
 1807.] SCENES IN PARIS. 599 
 
 wars which succeeded the French Revolution. Mr. Richard Cobden, with a 
 candor highly honorable to his stern sense of justice, says, 
 
 " There is a prevalent and active belief among us that that war arose from 
 an unprovoked and unjust attack made upon us ; that we were desirous of 
 peace, but were forced into hostilities ; that, in spite of our pacific intentions, 
 our shores were menaced with a French invasion. 
 
 " Now, so far is this from being a true statement of the case, it is, I regret 
 to say, the very opposite of the truth. / do not hesitate to affirm that noth- 
 ing was ever more conclusively proved by evidence in a court of law than the 
 fact, resting upon historical documents and official acts, that England was the 
 aggressor in the last French war. It is not enough to say that France did 
 not provoke hostilities. She all but went down on her knees (if I may apply 
 such a phrase to a nation} to avert a rupture with this country. 
 
 " But, in truth, the originators of war never pretended that they were fight- 
 ing for the liberties of the people any where. Their avowed object was to 
 sustain the old governments of Europe. The advocates of the War were not 
 the friends of popular freedom even at home. The Liberal party were ranged 
 on the side of peace Lansdowne, Bedford, and Lauderdale in the Lords, 
 and Fox, Sheridan, and Grey in the Commons, were the strenuous opponents 
 of the war. They were sustained out of doors by a small minority of intel- 
 ligent men, who saw through the arts by which the war was rendered popu- 
 lar. But and it is a mournful fact the advocates of peace were clamored 
 down, their persons and property left insecure, and even their families ex- 
 posed to outrage at the hands of the populace. Yes, the whole truth must 
 be told, for we require it to be known as some safeguard against a repetition 
 of the same scenes. The mass of the people, then wholly uneducated, were 
 instigated to join in the cry for war against France. It is equally true, and 
 must be remembered, that when the war had been carried on for two years 
 only, and when its effects had been felt in the high price of food, diminished 
 employment, and the consequent sufferings of the working classes, crowds 
 of people surrounded the king's carriage as he proceeded to the Houses of 
 Parliament, shouting ' Bread ! bread ! Peace ! peace !' 
 
 " But to revert to the question of the merits of the last French war. The 
 assumption put forth that we were engaged in a strictly defensive war is, I 
 regret to say, historically untrue. If you will examine the proofs as they 
 exist in the unchangeable public records, you will be satisfied of this. And 
 let us not forget that our history will ultimately be submitted to the judg- 
 ment of a tribunal over which Englishmen will exercise no influence beyond 
 that which is derived from the truth and justice of their cause, and from 
 whose decision there will be no appeal. I allude, of course, to the collective 
 wisdom and moral sense of future generations of men. In the case before 
 us, however, not only are we constrained by the evidence of facts to confess 
 that we were engaged in an aggressive war, but the multiplied avowals and 
 confessions of its authors and partisans themselves leave no room to doubt 
 that they entered upon it to put down opinions by physical force one of the 
 worst, if not the very worst, of motives with which a people can embark in 
 war."
 
 600 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XL. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 
 
 England still rejects Peace Bombardment of Copenhagen Hopes of Peace blasted Desires of 
 Alexander Communications with Caulaincourt Proposed Conference Decision of Napoleon 
 respecting Turkey Perplexity of Austria. 
 
 MUCH has been said respecting certain secret articles in the treaty of Tilsit. 
 Napoleon and Alexander privately agreed to unite their forces against England, 
 if she, refusing the mediation of Russia, should persist, as she had now done 
 for years, in embroiling the Continent in war. They also agreed to combine 
 against Turkey, should the Porte repel the mediation of France. The two 
 powers also engaged, should England refuse peace, unitedly to summon 
 Sweden, Denmark, Portugal, and Austria to close their ports against English 
 merchandise. Such were the terms of the occult treaty. 
 
 Napoleon, concentrating all his energies to the promotion of the prosper- 
 ity of France, patiently awaited the result of the negotiations commenced 
 by Russia with England. He sent a special embassador to Turkey to en- 
 deavor to secure peace between that power and Russia. He was successful. 
 The Turk accepted his mediation, and the sword was sheathed. England, 
 finding herself abandoned by all her former allies, immediately sought a co- 
 alition with Turkey. She strove to counteract the peaceful influence of 
 France by justly representing that Alexander was hungering for the prov- 
 inces of the Turkish empire. By these means she ere long roused Turkey 
 again to war. The mediation of Russia with England was entirely unsuc- 
 cessful. The cabinet of St. James at first evaded the application, and then 
 proudly, contemptuously, and with an energy which amazed the world, re- 
 jected all overtures. 
 
 Briefly we must record this new act of English aggression, which roused 
 the indignation of all Europe. The kingdom of Denmark had most studi- 
 ously maintained neutrality. Jealous of the increasing power of France, she 
 had stationed the Danish army upon her frontiers. Apprehending nothing 
 from England, her seaboard was entirely unprotected. Napoleon, with deli- 
 cacy but with firmness, had informed Denmark that, should England refuse 
 the mediation of Russia, all the powers of Europe must choose, in the des- 
 perate conflict, the one side or the other. The most perfectly friendly rela- 
 tions then existed between England and Denmark. The cabinet of St. 
 James, apprehensive that Napoleon would succeed in attaching Denmark to 
 the Continental alliance against the sovereign of the seas, resolved by stealth 
 to take possession of the Danish fleet. This fleet, unprotected and uncon- 
 scious of peril, was anchored in the harbor of Copenhagen. Denmark, at 
 peace with all the world, had but 5000 troops in the fortresses which sur- 
 rounded her metropolis. 
 
 Secretly the English government fitted out an expedition. It consisted
 
 1807.] 
 
 NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 
 
 601 
 
 a 
 * * * 
 
 Pjfft*" 'k * f i^ <r ^ * * 
 
 sf ~ * 
 
 .^ - _ n l E r B - " 
 
 COPENHAGEN HARBOR. 
 
 of 25 sail of the line, 40 frigates, 377 transports. About 30,000 men were 
 conveyed in the fleet. Suddenly this powerful armament appeared in the 
 waters of the Sound, and landing 20,000 men, under the command of the 
 
 Duke of Wellington, then Sir Arthur 
 Wellesley, invested the doomed city 
 by land and by sea. An agent was 
 immediately dispatched to the Prince 
 Royal of Denmark, then regent of the 
 kingdom, to summon the surrender of 
 the fortresses and of the fleet. Mr. 
 Jackson, a man of insolent manners 
 and of envenomed spirit, was worthy 
 of the mission. He assigned to the 
 prince, as a reason for the act, that the 
 British cabinet deemed it necessary 
 to secure the passage of the Sound and to take the Danish fleet, lest both 
 should fall into the power of the French. He therefore demanded, under 
 peril of a bombardment, that the fortress, the port of Copenhagen, and the 
 fleet should be immediately surrendered to the English army. He promised 
 that the whole, when the danger was over, should be returned again to Den- 
 mark, and that, in the mean time, the English would conduct as friends, and 
 pay for all they should consume. 
 
 " And with what," exclaimed the indignant prince, " would you pay for 
 our lost honor, if we were to accede to this infamous proposal ?" 
 
 Mr. Jackson replied, " War is war. One must submit to its necessities. 
 The weaker party must yield to the stronger." 
 
 The interview was short and bitter. The parties separated. The prince, 
 unable to present any resistance, heroically enveloped himself in despair. 
 The English envoy returned to the fleet, and the signal was given for the 
 fearful execution of the threatened doom. The English had taken with them 
 an immense quantity of heavy artillery. They were also accompanied by 
 Colonel Congreve, who was to make trial, for the first time, of his destruct- 
 ive rockets. As there were a few thousand regular troops behind the ram- 
 parts of the city, it was not deemed prudent to attempt to carry the place by 
 assault. 
 
 The English, having established themselves beyond the reach of danger, 
 reared their batteries and constructed their furnaces for red-hot shot. Calm- 
 ly, energetically, mercilessly, all their arrangements for the awful deed were 
 consummated. They refrained from firing a single gun until their furnaces 
 were completed and their batteries were in perfect readiness to rain down an 
 overwhelming storm of destruction upon the helpless capital of Denmark. 
 
 Nothing can be imagined more awful, more barbarous, than the bombard- 
 ment of a crowded city. Shot and shells have no mercy. They are heed- 
 less of the cry of mothers and of maidens. They turn not from the bed of 
 languishing nor from the cradle of infancy. Copenhagen contained 100,000 
 inhabitants. It was reposing in all the quietude of peace and prosperity. 
 On the evening of the 2d of September, the appalling storm of war and woe 
 commenced. A tremendous fire of howitzers, bombs, and rockets burst
 
 602 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 [CHAP. XL- 
 
 upon the city. The very earth trembled beneath the terrific thunders of 
 the cannonade. During all the long hours of this dreadful night, and until 
 the noon of the ensuing day, the destruction and the carnage continued. The 
 city was now on fire in various quarters. Hundreds of dwellings were blown 
 to pieces. The streets were red with the blood of women and children. 
 Vast columns of smoke rose from the burning capital. The English waited 
 
 THE BOMBARDMENT. 
 
 a few hours, hoping that the chastisement had been sufficiently severe to in- 
 duce the surrender. General Peymann, intrusted with the defense of the 
 metropolis, gazed upon the spectacle of woe around him, his heart almost 
 bursting with grief and indignation. He still maintained a firm and gloomy 
 silence. The conflict in his bosom between the dictates of humanity and 
 the pleadings of a high and honorable pride was terrific.
 
 1807.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 603 
 
 In the evening the English recommenced their fire. They kept it up all 
 night, the whole of the next day, and the ensuing night. Two thousand of 
 the citizens had now perished. Three hundred houses were burned to the 
 ground. Two thousand dwellings had been blown to pieces by the shells. 
 Half of the city was in flames. Several beautiful churches were in ruins. 
 The arsenal was on fire. For three days and three nights those demoniac 
 engines of death, exploding in the thronged streets, in churches, chambers, 
 parlors, nurseries, had filled the city with carnage, frightful beyond all con- 
 ception. There was no place of safety for helpless infancy or for decrepit 
 age. The terrific shells, crushing through the roofs of the houses, descend- 
 ed to the cellars ; bursting with thunder peal, they buried the mangled forms 
 of the family in the ruins of their dwellings. Happy were they who were 
 instantaneously killed. The wounded, struggling hopelessly beneath the 
 ruins, were slowly burned alive in the smouldering flames. 
 
 The fragments of shells, flying in every direction, produced ghastly muti- 
 lation. The mother, distracted with terror, saw the limbs of her infant torn 
 from its body. The father, clasping the form of his daughter to his bosom, 
 witnessed with a delirium of agony that fair form lacerated and mangled 
 hideously in his arms. The thunders of the cannonade, the explosion of the 
 shells, the crash of falling dwellings, the wide, wasting conflagration, the 
 dense volumes of suffocating smoke, the shrieks of women and children, the 
 pools of gore in parlors and on pavements, the mutilated forms of the dying 
 and of the dead, presented a spectacle which no imagination can compass. 
 General Peymann could endure this horrible massacre of women and chil- 
 dren no longer. Copenhagen was surrendered to England. 
 
 The victors rushed into the city. Almost every house was more or less 
 shattered. One eighth part of the city was in ashes. It required the ut- 
 most exertions of both friend and foe to arrest the conflagration. They 
 found about fifty vessels, ships, brigs, and frigates, of which they immediate- 
 ly took possession. Two ships of the line upon the stocks were burned ; 
 three frigates were also destroyed. All the timber in the ship-yards, the 
 tools of the workmen, and an immense quantity of naval stores, were con- 
 veyed on board the English squadron. From the ramparts and the floating 
 batteries they took 3500 pieces of artillery. The prize money divided among 
 the crew amounted, as estimated by Admiral Lord Gambier, to four million 
 eight hundred thousand dollars. One half of the English crews were then 
 put on board the Danish ships. The entire expedition, leaving the hapless 
 metropolis of the Danes drenched with blood and smouldering with fire, 
 made sail for the coast of England. With triumphant salutes and stream- 
 ing banners of victory, the squadron, rich with the booty of this buccaneer- 
 ing expedition, entered the Thames. Such was the emphatic response which 
 the cabinet of St. James gave to Napoleon's earnest appeal for peace through 
 the mediation of Russia. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington had just returned from boundless conquests in 
 India. At Copenhagen he commenced that European career which he aft- 
 erward terminated so brilliantly at Waterloo. When the expedition return- 
 ed to London, the Iron Duke received the thanks of Parliament for the skill 
 and efficiency with which he had conducted the bombardment. Copenhac
 
 604 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CllAP. XL. 
 
 gen and Waterloo ! The day is not far distant when England will be will, 
 ing to forget them both.* 
 
 In reference to this deed, there was but one sentiment throughout all Eu- 
 rope. Nowhere was it more severely condemned than in England. Dis- 
 tinguished members of both houses of Parliament, and the masses of the 
 people, raised a loud cry of indignation. Lord Grenville, Addington, Sheri- 
 dan, Grey, and others, most vehemently expressed their abhorrence. All 
 idei. of peace was now abandoned. England on the one hand, and Napo- 
 leon on the other, prepared for the most desperate renewal of the strife. 
 
 Russia was extremely anxious to wrest from the Turks the provinces of 
 Moldavia and Wallachia upon the Danube. She would thus make a long 
 stride toward Constantinople. The Turks, unaided by other powers, could 
 not prevent this conquest. Napoleon was reluctant to allow Russia to make 
 such an advance toward the Empire of the East. With great hesitancy, he 
 was at times half disposed, for the sake of securing the friendship of Alexan- 
 der, to consent to this encroachment. 
 
 The British cabinet immediately dispatched a messenger to Alexander to 
 endeavor to secure his favor by offering to aid him in obtaining these prov- 
 inces. An envoy extraordinary was sent to Austria to dispose her to see 
 with calmness Moldavia and Wallachia become the property of the Russians. 
 The English embassador at St. Petersburg endeavored to apologize for the 
 affair of Copenhagen. He said that the British ministers had merely en- 
 deavored to deprive the common enemy of Europe of the means of doing 
 mischief ; that Russia ought to rejoice over the event instead of being irri- 
 tated by it ; that England relied upon Russia to bring back Denmark to a 
 more just appreciation of the occurrence, and that the fleet should be return- 
 ed to the Danes if Denmark would join against Napoleon. Alexander was 
 indignant, and returned a haughty reply. Diplomatic intercourse between 
 the two countries soon ceased. 
 
 Alexander immediately sent for General Savary, the envoy of Napoleon, 
 and thus addressed him : " You know that our efforts for peace have ended 
 in war. I expected it ; but I confess I did not expect either the Copenha- 
 gen expedition or the arrogance of the British cabinet. My resolution is 
 taken, and I am ready to fulfill my engagements. , I am entirely disposed to 
 
 * " Sir Arthur Wellesley," say the Berkeley men in the Napoleon Dynasty, " had been recalled 
 from the East Indies, where he had achieved all his fame hitherto by a career of robbery and crime, 
 extortion, murder, and the extinction of nations, compared with which Napoleon's worst acts of 
 usurpation, in the height of his ambition, paled into insignificance. And here we will allow truth 
 to arrest us for a single moment, while we enter our protest against any of the complaints of En- 
 gland or of English writers about the usurpations of Napoleon. For the sole purpose of self-ag- 
 grandizement, England has robbed more territory, taken more lives, confiscated more property, en- 
 slaved more men, and wrought wider and darker ruin on the plains of Asia, than Napoleon can 
 ever be charged with, if upon his single head were to rain down the curses of every widow and 
 orphan made in Europe for a quarter of a century. It is unholy mockery of truth, it is Puritanic 
 cant, it is English spite against Napoleon's eagles. England began, under the administration of 
 Pitt, the work of crushing the French Republic. She kept it up to gratify the ambition and spits 
 of her ministers, and she carried it through to maintain the position she had taken. It was all a 
 costly and well-nigh a fatal mistake for England ; and her historians have no business whatever 
 to vent their spleen upon the only man on the Continent who ventured to set limits to the proud 
 empire of Britain." Strong and impassioned as is this utterance, it can not be controverted by 
 facts.
 
 1807.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 60 5 
 
 follow that conduct which shall best suit your master. I have seen Napo- 
 leon. I flatter myself that I have inspired him with a part of the sentiments 
 with which he has inspired me. I am certain that he is sincere. O that I 
 could see him as at Tilsit every day, every hour ! What talent for conver- 
 sation ! What an understanding ! What a genius ! How much should I 
 gain by living frequently near him ! How many things he has taught me in 
 a few days ! But' we are so far distant ! However, I hope to visit him 
 soon." 
 
 Alexander requested permission to purchase muskets from the French 
 manufactories. " I desire," said he, " that the two armies, now destined to 
 serve the same cause, may use the same weapons." He also solicited per- 
 mission to send the cadets who were to serve in the Russian navy to France 
 for their education. These friendly expressions were accompanied by a mag- 
 nificent present of furs for the Emperor Napoleon. " I wish to be his fur- 
 rier," said Alexander. 
 
 Napoleon was greatly embarrassed. The cordial friendship of Alexander 
 gratified him. He perceived the intensity of desire with which this ambitious 
 monarch was contemplating Constantinople and a mighty empire in the East. 
 The growth of Russia threatened to overshadow Europe, and to subjugate 
 the world. " Leaning upon the north pole," with her right hand grasping 
 the Baltic, and her left the Dardanelles, she might claim universal sovereign- 
 ty. Nothing would satisfy Alexander but permission to march toward the 
 East. Napoleon earnestly desired his friendship, but also feared to make 
 concessions too dangerous for the repose of Europe. 
 
 He sent Caulaincourt to St. Petersburg as his confidential embassador, in- 
 formed him fully of his embarrassments, and urged him to do every thing in 
 his power to maintain the alliance without encouraging the designs of Alex- 
 ander upon the Turkish empire. That Caulaincourt might worthily repre- 
 sent the Great Nation, Napoleon allowed him the sum of 160,000 dollars a 
 year, and placed in his suite several of the most distinguished young men of 
 France. He also wrote a letter to Alexander, thanking him for his presents, 
 and returning still more magnificent gifts of Sevres porcelain. Denmark 
 promptly threw herself into the arms of Napoleon. A strong division of 
 French troops, at the solicitation of the Danish court, immediately entered 
 Denmark for its protection. 
 
 Alexander himself, having been brought under the fascinations of Napo- 
 leon's mind at Tilsit, was very enthusiastic in his admiration of his new ally. 
 But the Russian nobles, having never seen the great enchanter, trembled at 
 the advance of democratic freedom. The republican equality of France 
 would elevate the serf and depress the noble. The Czar was willing that 
 his haughty lords should lose a little of their power, and that his degraded 
 serfs should become a little more manly. Hence there arose two parties in 
 Russia : one, headed by the haughty queen mother, and embraced by most 
 of the nobles, was for war with France ; the emperor was at the head of the 
 less numerous and the less influential peace party. 
 
 Caulaincourt, conscious of the hostility still existing in the bosoms of the 
 Russian nobles toward Napoleon, sent an employe into the circles of the old 
 aristocracy at Moscow to report to him what was said there. Freely the 
 VOL. II. U
 
 60G NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XL. 
 
 nobles censured the sudden change at Tilsit, by which the young- Czar had 
 espoused the policy of France. War with England struck the commerce of 
 Russia a deadly blow. Nothing, they said, could compensate for such sac- 
 rifices but obtaining possession of Moldavia and Wallachia. Napoleon, how- 
 ever, they affirmed, will never allow Russia to take those fine provinces. 
 
 Caulaincourt immediately transmitted these particulars to Napoleon. He 
 assured the Emperor that, notwithstanding the sincerity of Alexander, the 
 court of Russia, deeply mortified, could not be relied upon. Napoleon pon- 
 dered the question long and anxiously. The alliance of Russia was of vital 
 importance. The aggressive power of Russia, overshadowing Europe with 
 its gloom of despotism, was greatly to be dreaded. The Turks, having de- 
 posed, imprisoned, and finally put to death Sultan Selim, the friend of Na- 
 poleon, were now cutting off the heads of all who were in favor of alliance 
 with France. The agents of England were busy in rousing the barbarian 
 Turks. They did not hold themselves accountable for the excesses which 
 ensued. 
 
 Napoleon was not much troubled with conscientious scruples about trans- 
 ferring the sovereignty of Turkish provinces to Russia. The only claims 
 the Turks had to those provinces were claims obtained by fire and sword 
 by outrages, the recital of which causes the ear to tingle. The right of proud 
 despots to rob a people of liberty and of happiness is not a very sacred right. 
 Bad as was the government of Russia, the government of Turkey was still 
 worse. Napoleon consequently did not hesitate to consent to the transfer of 
 these provinces because he thought it would be wrong, but simply because 
 he thought it would be impolitic. The Turkish government, waging now a 
 savage war against him, and in alliance with England, his ever relentless foe, 
 could claim from his hand no special protection. Napoleon could not, how- 
 ever, merely step aside, and let Turkey and Russia settle their difficulties be- 
 tween themselves. Turkey and England were now united as one power 
 against France. The Turks, in defiance of Napoleon's mediation, had re- 
 newed the war against Alexander. France was consequently pledged by 
 the treaty of Tilsit to unite her armies with those of Russia. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Napoleon proposed a conference with Alexan- 
 der and with Francis of Austria, to consider the whole Turkish question. He 
 also suggested a grand, gigantic enterprise of the three united powers, to 
 cross the continent of Asia, and attack the English in the territories which 
 they had invaded in India. Austria was deeply interested in this matter. 
 Already she was overshadowed by the colossal empire of the North. To 
 have the mouths of the Danube, the Mississippi of Austria, in the hands of 
 the Turks, indolent as they were, was bad enough. The transfer of the por- 
 tals of that majestic stream to the custody of her great rival, Russia, was to 
 be resisted at all hazards. Alexander received the proposal of a conference 
 with transports of joy. The acquisition of the coveted provinces would add 
 to the glory of his reign, would immeasurably increase the prospective great- 
 ness of Russia, and would compel the nobles to a cordial approval of his al- 
 liance with France. So deeply was Alexander excited, that he read the let' 
 ter of Napoleon with trembling eagerness. Caulaincourt, who had delivered 
 to him the letter, was present.
 
 1807.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 607 
 
 "Ah !" exclaimed Alexander, again and again, as he read the welcome lines, 
 " the great man ! the great man ! Tell him that I am devoted to him for 
 life. My empire, my armies, are all at his disposal. When I ask him to 
 grant something to satisfy the pride of the Russian nation, it is not from am- 
 bition that I speak. I wish to give him that nation whole and entire, and as 
 devoted to his great projects as I am myself. Your master purposes to in- 
 terest Austria in the dismemberment of the Turkish empire. He is in the 
 right. It is a wise conception. I cordially join in it. 
 
 " He designs an expedition to India. I consent to that too. I have al- 
 ready made him acquainted, in our long conversations at Tilsit, with the dif- 
 ficulties attending it. He is accustomed to take no account of obstacles. 
 Nevertheless, the climate and distances here present such as surpass all that 
 he can imagine. But let him be easy. The preparations on my part shall 
 be proportioned to the difficulties. We must come to an understanding about 
 the territories which we are going to wrest from Turkish barbarism. This 
 subject, however, can be usefully discussed only in an interview between mo 
 and Napoleon. As soon as our ideas have arrived at a commencement of 
 maturity, I shall leave St. Petersburg, and go to meet your emperor at what- 
 ever distance he pleases. I should like to go as far as Paris. But I can 
 not. Besides, it is a meeting upon business which we want, not a meeting 
 for parade and pleasure. We might choose Weimar, where we would be 
 among our own family. But even there we should be annoyed by a thou- 
 sand things. At Erfurt we should be more free, more to ourselves. Propose 
 that place to your sovereign. When his answer arrives, I will set out imme- 
 diately. I shall travel like a courier." 
 
 Here originated the idea of the celebrated conference which was soon held 
 at Erfurt. After many long interviews between the Russian minister and 
 the French embassador, two plans were addressed to Napoleon for his con- 
 sideration. The one proposed but a partial division of the Turkish empire. 
 The Turks were to be left in possession of the Dardanelles, the Bosphorus, 
 and of all their Asiatic possessions. Russia was to have the coveted prov- 
 inces of Moldavia and Wallachia, upon the left bank of the Danube, and 
 Bulgaria upon the right. Austria, as a consolation for seeing the Colossus 
 of the North take so long a step toward universal power, was to receive Ser- 
 via and Bosnia. Greece was to be emancipated from its Turkish oppress- 
 ors, and placed under the protection of France. The second plan was bold 
 and gigantic in the extreme. All of Europe and all of Asia Minor were to 
 be rescued from Turkish sway. 
 
 Russia was to gratify her long and intensely-cherished ambition in taking 
 possession of Constantinople and all the adjoining provinces on each side of 
 the Bosporus. Austria was to receive a rich accession to her territory in 
 the partition. All of Greece, all the islands of the Archipelago, the Straits 
 of the Dardanelles, Cyprus, Syria,, and Egypt, were to be transferred to 
 France. Such were the plans proposed by the Russian cabinet to Napoleon, 
 It was not deemed prudent to affix any signature to a paper containing prop- 
 ositions of such startling magnitude. As the documents were placed in the 
 hands of the French embassador to be conveyed to Napoleon, Alexander, 
 whose ambition was excited to its highest pulsations, said to him, "Tell
 
 COS NAPOLEON -BONAPARTE. [CHAP. XL. 
 
 Napoleon that this note meets my full approbation. It is an authentic ex- 
 pression of the ideas of the Russian cabinet."* 
 
 * This extraordinary document, so characteristic of the times, and of the illustrious personages 
 then, by their position and energies, controlling the fate of Europe, we give in full, unaltered and 
 unabridged. 
 
 " Since his majesty, the Emperor of the French and the King of Italy, &c., has recently adjudged 
 that, in order to attain a general peace, and to secure the tranquillity of Europe, it would be expe- 
 dient to weaken the Ottoman empire by the dismemberment of its provinces, the Emperor Alex- 
 ander, faithful to his engagements and to his friendship, is ready to concur in it. 
 
 " The first idea, which could not fail to present itself to the Emperor of all the Russias, who is 
 fond of calling to mind the occurrences at Tilsit, when this overture was made to him, was, that the 
 Emperor, his ally, purposed to proceed immediately to the execution of what the two monarchs had 
 agreed upon in the treaty of alliance relative to the Turks ; and that he added to it the proposal of 
 an expedition to India. 
 
 " It had been settled at Tilsit that the Ottoman power was to be driven back into Asia, retaining 
 in Europe nothing but the city of Constantinople and Roumelia. 
 
 " There was drawn at the same time this consequence, that the Emperor of the French should 
 acquire Albania, and Morea, and the island of Candia. 
 
 " Wallachia and Moldavia were next allotted to Russia, giving that empire the Danube for it* 
 boundary, comprehending Bessarabia, which is, in fact, a strip of sea-coast, and which is commonly 
 considered as forming part of Moldavia. If to this portion be added Bulgaria, the Emperor is ready 
 to concur in the expedition to India, of which there had been then no question, provided that this 
 expedition to India, as the Emperor Napoleon himself has just traced its route, shall proceed through 
 Asia Minor. 
 
 " The Emperor Alexander applauded himself for the idea of gaining the concurrence of a corps 
 of Austrian troops in the expedition to India, and as the Emperor, his ally, seemed to wish that it 
 should not be numerous, he conceives that this concurrence would be adequately compensated by 
 awarding to Austria Turkish Croatia and Bosnia, unless the Emperor of the French should find it 
 convenient to retain a portion of them. There might, moreover, be offered to Austria a less direct 
 but very considerable interest, by settling the future condition of Servia, incontestably one of the 
 finest provinces of the Ottoman empire, in the following manner. 
 
 " The Servians are a warlike people, and that quality, which always commands esteem, must ex- 
 cite a wish to regulate their lot judiciously. 
 
 " The Servians, fraught with a feeling of just vengeance against the Turks, have boldly shaken 
 off the yoke of their oppressors, and are, it is said, resolved never to wear it again. In order to 
 consolidate peace, it seems necessary, therefore, to make them independent of the Turks. 
 
 " The peace of Tilsit determines nothing in regard to them. Their own wish, expressed strongly 
 and more than once, has led them to implore the Emperor Alexander to admit them into the num- 
 ber of his subjects. This attachment to his person makes him desirous that they should live happy 
 and content, without insisting upon extending his sway. His majesty seeks no acquisition that 
 could obstruct peace. He makes with pleasure this sacrifice, and all those which can contribute to 
 render it speedy and solid. He proposes, in consequence, to erect Servia into an independent king- 
 dom, to give its crown to one of the archdukes who is not the head of any sovereign branch, and 
 who is sufficiently remote from the succession to the throne of Austria ; and in this case it should 
 be stipulated that this kingdom should never be incorporated with the mass of the dominions of 
 that house. 
 
 " This whole supposition of the dismemberment of the Turkish provinces, as explained above, 
 being founded upon the engagements at Tilsit, has not appeared to oflfer any difficulty to the two 
 persons commissioned by the two emperors to discuss together the means of attaining the ends 
 proposed by their imperial majesties. 
 
 " The Emperor of Russia is ready to take part in a treaty between the three emperors which 
 should fix the conditions above expressed ; but, on the other hand, having conceived that the letter 
 which he recently received from the Emperor of the French seemed to indicate the resolution of a 
 much more extended dismemberment of the Ottoman empire than that which had been projected 
 between them at Tilsit, that monarch, in order to meet the interests of the three imperial courts, 
 and particularly in order to give the Emperor, his ally, all the proofs of friendship and deference 
 that are in his power, has declared that, without wanting a further diminution of the strength of 
 the Ottoman Porte, he would cheerfully concur in it. 
 
 " He has laid down as a principle of his interest in this <-r".ttrr partition, that his share of tho
 
 1807.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 609 
 
 Upon receiving this communication, Napoleon peremptorily refused his 
 assent to the latter plan. No consideration could induce him to permit 
 Russia to take possession of Constantinople. He was ready to break the 
 
 increased acquisition should be moderate in extent or magnitude, and that he would consent that 
 the share of his ally in particular should be marked out of much larger proportion. His majesty 
 has added that beside this principle of moderation he placed one of wisdom, which consisted in not 
 finding himself, by this new plan of partition, worse placed than he is at the present in regard to 
 boundaries and commercial relations. 
 
 - " Setting out with these two principles, the Emperor Alexander would see, not only without 
 jealousy, but with pleasure, the Emperor Napoleon acquire and incorporate with his dominion, in 
 addition to what has been mentioned above, all the islands of the Archipelago, Cyprus, Rhodes, 
 and even whatever is left of the seaports of the Levant, Syria, and Egypt. 
 
 " In case of this more extensive partition, the Emperor Alexander would change his preceding 
 opinion respecting the state of Servia. Studying to form an honorable and highly advantageous 
 share for the house of Austria, he should wish that Servia should be incorporated with the mass of 
 the Austrian dominions, and that there should be added to it Macedonia, with the exception of that 
 part of Macedonia which France might desire in order to fortify her Albanian frontier, so as that 
 France might obtain Salonichi. This line of the Austrian frontier might be drawn from Scopia to 
 Orphane, and would make the power of the house of Austria extend to the sea, 
 
 " Croatia might belong to France or to Austria, as the Emperor Napoleon pleases. 
 
 " The Emperor Alexander can not disguise from his ally that, finding a particular satisfaction in 
 all that has been said at Tilsit, he places, according to the advice of the Emperor, his friend, those 
 possessions of the house of Austria between theirs, in order to avoid the point of contact, always 
 so liable to cool friendship. 
 
 " The share of Russia in this new and extensive partition would have added to that which was 
 awarded to her in the preceding plan, the possession of the city of Constantinople, with a radius 
 of a few leagues in Asia ; and in Europe, part of Roumelia, so as that the frontier of Russia, on 
 the side of the new possessions of Austria, setting out from Bulgaria, should follow the frontier of 
 Servia to a little beyond Solismick, and the chain of mountains which runs from Solismick to Tray- 
 anpol inclusive, and then the River Moriza to the sea. 
 
 " In the conversation which has taken place respecting this second plan of partition, there has 
 bfcen this difference of opinion, that one of the two persons conceived that, if Russia were to pos- 
 sess Constantinople, France ought to possess the Dardanelles, or at least to appropriate to herself 
 that which was on the Asiatic side. This assertion was contested, on the other part, upon the 
 ground of the immense disproportion proposed to be made in the shares of this new and greater par- 
 tition, and that even the occupation of the fort would utterly destroy this principle of the Emperor 
 of Russia not to be worse placed than he now is in regard to his geographical and commercial re- 
 lations. 
 
 " The Emperor Alexander, moved by the feeling of his extreme friendship for the Emperor Na- 
 poleon, has declared, with a view to remove the difficulty, Istly. That he would agree to a mili- 
 tary road for France running through the new possessions of Austria and Russia, opening to her 
 a military route to the ports of Syria. 2dly. That, if the Emperor Napoleon wished to possess 
 Smyrna, or any other port on the coast of Natolia, from the point of that coast which is opposite to 
 Mytilene to that which is situated opposite to Rhodes, and should send troops thither to conquer 
 them, the Emperor Alexander is ready to assist in this enterprise, by joining, for this purpose, a 
 corps of his troops to the French troops. 3dly. That if Smyrna, or any other possession on the 
 coast of Natolia, such as has just been pointed out, having come under the dominion of France, 
 should afterward be attacked, not merely by the Turks, but even by the English, in hatred of that 
 treaty, his majesty the Emperor of Russia will, in that case, proceed to the aid of his ally when- 
 ever he shall be required to do so. 
 
 " 4thly His majesty thinks that the house of Austria might, on the same footing, assist France 
 in taking possession of Salonichi, and proceed to the aid of that port whenever it shall be required 
 of her 
 
 " Sthly The Emperor of Russia declares that he has no wish to acquire the south coast of the 
 Black Sea, which is in Asia, though, in the discussion, it was thought that it might be desirable for 
 him. 
 
 " 6thly The Emperor of Russia has declared that, whatever might be the success of his troops 
 m India, he should not desire to possess any thing there, and that he would cheerfully consent that 
 Frarce should make for herself all the territorial acquisitions in India which she might think fit;
 
 610 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. [CllAP. XL. 
 
 alliance, and to see that immense power again arrayed against him, rather 
 than thus betray the liberties of Europe. 
 
 " Constantinople," said Alexander, "is the key of my house." 
 
 " Constantinople !" exclaimed Napoleon. "It is the dominion of the 
 world." 
 
 The possession of European Turkey will enable Russia to bid defiance to 
 every foe. The Black Sea becomes a Russian harbor which no enemy can 
 penetrate. How this conquest is to be prevented is now the great problem 
 which agitates every cabinet in the Old World. The foresight of Napoleon 
 anticipated this question. " In half a century," said he at St. Helena, "Eu- 
 rope will become either Republican or Cossack." Republican equality was 
 entombed at St. Helena. Europe now promises to become Cossack. 
 
 Austria was in great perplexity. She dreaded the liberal opinions which 
 France was every where diffusing. She was inconsolable for the loss of 
 Italy. She was intensely mortified by the defeats of Ulm and Austerlitz. 
 She was much alarmed by the encroachments of Alexander, her great rival. 
 On the other hand, she was unable to contend against France, even with 
 Russia as an ally. How, then, could she resist France and Russia combined ? 
 England, always unpopular, had become absolutely odious to Europe by her 
 conduct at Copenhagen. Yet through England alone could Austria hope to 
 regain Italy, and to retard the appalling growth of Russia. Napoleon was 
 perfectly frank in his communications with the court of Vienna. There was 
 no occasion for intrigue. He sincerely wished to unite Austria and Russia 
 with France, that, upon perfectly equitable terms, peace might be forced 
 upon England. He desired nothing so much as leisure to develop the re- 
 sources of France, and to make his majestic empire the garden of the world. 
 Weary of contending, with all Europe against him, he was willing to make 
 almost any concessions for the sake of peace. "England," said he, "is the 
 great enemy of peace. The world demands repose. England can not hold 
 out against the strongly expressed unanimity of the Continent." 
 
 The Austrian court, never frank and honorable, with much hesitancy 
 joined the Continental alliance. An envoy was dispatched to the court of 
 St. James with two messages. The one was public, and for the ear of Eu- 
 rope. It declared that France, through the mediation of Russia, had pro- 
 posed equitable terms for peace ; and that, if England now refused peace, 
 all nations must combine against her. The other message was secret and 
 deceitful. It stated that Austria, left alone upon the Continent, could not 
 resist France and Russia. There was a little blending of magnanimity in 
 the addition that England ought to think of peace ; that if she still persisted 
 
 and that it should be likewise at her option to cede any portion of the conquests which she might 
 make there to her allies. 
 
 " If the two allies agree together in a precise manner that they adopt one or the other of these 
 two plans of partition, his majesty the Emperor Alexander will have extreme pleasure in repairing 
 to the personal interview which has been proposed to him, and which could, perhaps, take place at 
 Erfurt. He conceives that it would be advantageous if the basis of the engagements that are to be 
 made there were previously fixed with a sort of precision, that the two emperors may have nothing 
 to add to the extreme satisfaction of seeing one another but that of being enabled to sign without 
 delay the fate of this part of the globe, and thereby, as they purpose to themselves, to force En- 
 gland to desire that peace from which she now keeps aloof willfully and with such boasting."
 
 1807.] NEGOTIATIONS WITH ALEXANDER. 611 
 
 in war, her best friends would be compelled to abandon "her. The Austrian 
 embassador was also commissioned boldly to declare that the act perpetra- 
 ted at Copenhagen was an outrage which was deeply felt by every neutral 
 state. i
 
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