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 Napoleon's Opera-Glass 
 
 V 
 
 AN HISTRIONIC STUDY 
 
 BY 
 
 LEW ROSEN 
 
 I 
 
 LONDON 
 ELKIN MATHEWS, VIGO STREET 
 
 MDCCCXCVII
 
 
 " Commediante ! " " Tragediante ! " 
 
 Pope Pius VII. 
 
 .€9t;iG8
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I PURPOSE to treat of Napoleon as a theatre- 
 goer, as a critic and patron of the drama, and 
 as a familiar of playwrights and players. I 
 intend to show that he was himself a master 
 a(5tor on important occasions and an artist in 
 histrionic effecfts. 
 
 We have been entertained of late with 
 chapters on the great man's campaigns and 
 his costumes, his fads and his furniture, his 
 hats and his boots, his witticisms and his 
 women, his swords and his snuff-boxes, his 
 manners and his maxims. 
 
 I may be pardoned if I allow my pen to 
 ramble around ih6 opera-glass of Napoleon, 
 merely to indicate what impressions he received 
 through its lenses, and I may be permitted to 
 turn that opera-glass upon himself in order to 
 see how he was afFecfted by these impressions. 
 
 The experiment is novel and may prove 
 interesting.
 
 The Lieutenant
 
 THE LIEUTENANT 
 
 One night, in 1788, Napoleon Bonaparte, of 
 Corsica, saw Madame Saint Huberti play Didon 
 at the theatre. He was then an unknown 
 artillery officer, a graduate from the military 
 schools of Brienne and Paris. He was sallow, 
 slight, and small. His hair was long. His 
 clothes were threadbare. His purse was light. 
 I do not know whether he placed an opera- 
 glass to his eyes that night, but his eyes were 
 fine, and flared with a restless fire. The opera 
 was by Piccini, the rival of Gliick. The acftress 
 carried all before her. The artillery officer, 
 they tell us, ventured into verse. 
 
 " Romains, qui vous vantez d'une illustre origine, 
 Voyez d'oti dependait votre empire naissant ! 
 Didon n'a pas d'attrait plus puissant, 
 Pour arreter la fuite oil son amant s'obstine. 
 Mais si I'autre Didon, ornement de ces lieux, 
 Eut 6t6 reine de Carthage, 
 II eut, pour la servir, abandonne ses dieux, 
 Et votre beau pays serait encore sauvage 1 " 
 
 n— 2
 
 4 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 This madrigal, if addressed by the obscure 
 lieutenant to the famous diva, is a clever frag- 
 ment of pedantic rhapsody. It would prove 
 not only that Bonaparte, early in his career, 
 took interest in the doings of stageland, but 
 also that his juvenile rhyme was superior in 
 quahty to that which has been attributed to 
 Caesar, to Frederick, and to Washington. 
 
 He was at that time a dark dreamer in uni- 
 form. He devoured Plutarch and Rousseau. 
 He quoted Mably and Raynal. He admired 
 Rollin and Sterne. He wept over Bacculard 
 and raved over Ossian. \\'hen he read aloud, 
 he pronounced his adopted language with a 
 foreign accent, and when he wrote, he sinned 
 with delightful nonchalance against the cardinal 
 rules of orthography. His note-books were full 
 of blots and erasures. He manufacftured essays, 
 conco(fted tales, and compiled histories. His 
 style abounded in mixed metaphors, in exotic 
 idioms, in stilted phrases, and in hollow imita- 
 tions of current tirades. 
 
 His correspondence with his family and his 
 friends, however, had the simple and sincere 
 tone of masterful superiority. Some of those 
 letters are valuable to this day as historical 
 documents. They demonstrate plainly how
 
 THE LIEUTENANT 5 
 
 eager he was to appear in the first acfts of 
 the political drama then moving swiftly to- 
 wards the crisis. 
 
 " This country is full of zeal and ardour," he 
 wrote to Naudin. " In an assembly of twenty- 
 two societies, three departments petitioned in 
 favour of the King being brought to trial. On 
 the occasion of the banquet of the 14th, I pro- 
 posed a toast to the patriots of Auxonne . . . 
 The southern blood runs through my veins with 
 the rapidity of the Rhone. You must therefore 
 pardon me if you experience some difficulty in 
 reading my scrawl." 
 
 " He was then a passionate admirer of Jean 
 Jacques," writes his brother Joseph, " amateur 
 of the chef-d'ceuvres of Corneille, Racine, and 
 Voltaire, which we declaimed daily." 
 
 He saw plays by Marivaux, Regnard, Beau- 
 marchais, in his lieutenant days, and he hummed 
 airs from the opera by Rousseau. What he 
 thought of these produdtions we may see later. 
 
 I find that he criticised adversely the ' Phi- 
 linte de Moliere ' by Fabre d'Eglantine. " It 
 must be admitted," he said of the latter, " that 
 this play was barren of invention. As to its 
 performance on the stage, I saw this piece 
 several times in my youth. I always found
 
 6 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 the style uncouth and bizarre for a piece written 
 in the eighteenth century." 
 
 Bonaparte was not favourably impressed by 
 Shakespeare, though he heard him interpreted 
 by Talma. He early made the personal acquain- 
 tance of the acftor, and liked him, but he appears 
 never to have cared for the dramatist. '* Shake- 
 speare," said he, later, according to Thibaudeau, 
 " was steeped in oblivion for two hundred years 
 even in England. Suddenly it pleased Voltaire, 
 who lived at Geneva and saw many Englishmen, 
 to praise that author in order to ingratiate him- 
 self with them. The word went round that 
 Shakespeare was the foremost writer of the 
 world. I have read him. There is nothing in 
 him that can touch Corneille and Racine. It 
 is impossible to read one of his plays. They 
 are pitiable." 
 
 He never had what we nowadays call the 
 historic sense. He then preferred mathema- 
 tics to belles-lettres, and strategetics to play- 
 books. He issued virulent political pamphlets 
 and sketched bold plans for military campaigns. 
 
 He was a Republican in politics, but his 
 republicanism fitted him as badly as his coat. 
 
 He was now sedate and taciturn ; now garru- 
 lous and volatile. 
 
 He impatiently waited his cue.
 
 The General
 
 II 
 
 THE GENERAL 
 
 Bonaparte had not long to wait before he 
 became an acflor on the stage of history. 
 
 He direcfled, at twenty-four, the capture of 
 Toulon. 
 
 Then he returned to the capital. " Bona- 
 parte was without any employment," says 
 Marmont, " I without any command, and Junot 
 attached to the staff of a general who was not 
 in demand. We lived in the Hotel de la 
 Liberte, Rue des Fosses- Montmartre, passed 
 our time at the Palais Royal and at the theatres, 
 and had very little money and no prospecfts." 
 
 Bonaparte mentioned the theatres, the ac- 
 tresses, in his letters written at this period. 
 
 " Luxury, pleasure, and the arts flourish once 
 more here to an astonishing degree," he wrote 
 to his brother Joseph. " Yesterday ' Phedre ' 
 was given at the Opdra for the benefit of a 
 retired acflress. There was an immense crowd
 
 lO NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 at the doors from two o'clock on in the after- 
 noon, though prices had been trebled. 
 Women are seen everywhere — at the theatres, 
 in the promenades, and in the libraries. In the 
 study of the savant, you meet very pretty 
 persons. Here alone, of all places in the world, 
 they deserve to hold the helm ; therefore men 
 are mad about them, think only of them, hve 
 only by and for them. A woman requires to 
 be but six months in Paris to know what is due 
 to her and the extent of her empire." 
 
 " Health, constancy, and never be dis- 
 couraged," he wrote to Suchy. " If you find 
 men wicked and ungrateful, remember the 
 great, although buffoon, maxim of Scapin : ' Let 
 us be thankful to them for all the crimes they 
 do not commit.' " 
 
 Neither Scapin nor Figaro ever uttered this 
 cynical aphorism. Bonaparte quoted inaccu- 
 rately, but he was never exacft in matters 
 literary. He was often eccentric. " We were 
 at the Theatre-Frangais," said a contemporary 
 to Stendhal, who reproduces the story. " They 
 gave a comedy, ' Le Sourd,' ou * L'Auberge 
 Pleine,' and the whole audience was m con- 
 vulsions of laughter. The role of Dasnibres 
 was taken by Baptiste, the younger, and never
 
 THE GENERAL II 
 
 did anyone play it better. The shouts of laughter 
 were such that the acftor was often obliged to 
 stop. . . . Bonaparte alone (and the fa(ft 
 struck me forcibly) maintained an icy silence. 
 We spent six weeks in Paris, and we 
 went with him very often to the fine concerts of 
 Garat, which were then given in the Rue Saint- 
 Marc. . . . There was always originality 
 in the condu(5t of Bonaparte, for often he disap- 
 peared from among us, without a word, and 
 when we thought that he was elsewhere than in 
 the theatre, we spied him in the second or third 
 gallery, alone in a box, having the air of a man 
 who sulks." 
 
 I find in the records this letter addressed 
 by Bonaparte to Talma after Toulon. Some 
 writers consider it authentic ; others hold it to 
 be apochryphal. " I fought like a lion for the 
 Republic, my dear friend Talma, and as a 
 reward she allows me to starve. ... I am 
 at the end of my resources. . . . You are 
 fortunate. Your reputation depends on no one. 
 Two hours passed on the boards puts you before 
 the public, which showers glory upon you. We 
 soldiers must buy it on a stage more spacious, 
 and they don't always allow us to get on the 
 stage. ... I saw Monvel yesterday. He is a
 
 12 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 capital friend. Barras makes me fine promises. 
 Will he keep them ? I doubt it. Meanwhile, 
 I'm down to my last penny. Have you any 
 ducats that you can spare me ? I will not refuse 
 them, and I will reimburse you from the first 
 kingdom I shall conquer with my sword. My 
 friend, the heroes of Aristotle were lucky fellows. 
 They weren't dependent on a Minister of War. 
 Adieu." 
 
 Bonaparte presently found his opportunity. 
 Barras became his patron, and Josephine da 
 Beauharnais, his wife. The Government sent 
 him to command the army of Italy, and he 
 began, at twenty-six, his meteoric series of 
 victorious campaigns. His words became almost 
 as brilliant as his deeds. His missives to the 
 ministers at home bristled with bravado. His 
 proclamations to the soldiers in the field were 
 dotted with daredeviltry. 
 
 At this period of his life he already felt that 
 he was playing a part. He posed well in the 
 limelight glare of publicity. He delivered his 
 lines so that they carried. Already we recog- 
 nize that where he stands or rides, there is the 
 centre of the boards. 
 
 I cannot insist too strongly upon the existence 
 of the histrionic element in the composition of
 
 THE GENERAL 1 3 
 
 the man. I detecft its manifestations every- 
 where. Whether he unveils the monument 
 to Hoche, or pays a visit to the tomb of Virgil, 
 or refuses to accept in person the sword of his 
 veteran adversary Wurmser, I suspedl that he 
 is adting to the stalls and the gallery, and doing 
 it with calculated skill. He seemed ever to 
 remember the chivalric chara(5lers which he 
 admired behind the footlights. Versed in the 
 classic drama, the influence of that drama is 
 patent in his words and his postures. 
 
 When Bonaparte took command of the army, 
 he at once issued one of his declamatory pro- 
 clamations. 
 
 " Soldiers, you are naked, ill-fed ; the Govern- 
 ment owes you much and has nothing to give 
 you. Your patience and the courage you have 
 shown in the midst of these rocks are admirable ; 
 but they procure you no glory ; no brilliancy is 
 refle(5ted on you. I desire to lead you into the 
 most fertile plains in the world. Rich provinces 
 and great cities will be in your power. You will 
 find there honour, glory, and wealth. Soldiers 
 of Italy, will you be wanting in courage and 
 constancy ? " 
 
 There was always a dramatic fervour in his 
 harangues.
 
 14 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 " Soldiers," he rhapsodized from Milan, *' you 
 have dashed like a torrent from the summit of 
 the Apennines. You have overthrown, dispersed, 
 scattered all who opposed your march. Pied- 
 mont, delivered from Austrian tyranny, has 
 given vent to her natural sentiments of peace 
 and friendship towards France. Milan is ours, 
 and the Republican flag floats over all Lom- 
 bardy. The dukes of Parma and Medina owe 
 their political existence entirely to your gene- 
 rosity. The army which menaced you with such 
 arrogance finds nothing to protedt it against 
 your courage. The Po, the Tessin, the Adda 
 did not stop you a single day. Those boasted 
 bulwarks of Italy were found wanting ! . . . 
 Shall posterity reproach us with having found a 
 Capua in Lombardy ? . . . Let us be doing ! 
 We have still forced marches to make, enemies 
 to subdue, laurels to gather, insults to avenge ! " 
 
 Barras and Carnot received from him such 
 rhodomontades as this : 
 
 ♦' I owe you special thanks for your attentions 
 towards my wife. I recommend her to you. 
 She is a sincere patriot, and I love her to mad- 
 ness. I hope to be able, if things go well, to 
 send you ten million francs to Paris, which will 
 not be amiss for the army of the Rhine. I
 
 THE GENERAL I 5 
 
 cannot conceal the facft that since the death of 
 Stengel, I have not a fighting cavalry com- 
 mander. I wish you would send me two or 
 three adjutant-generals who have served in the 
 cavalry, who have been under fire, and who 
 have the firm resolution never to make scientific 
 retreats." 
 
 I have remarked that Bonaparte was already 
 playing a part. How else explain these words 
 which, in 1797, he addressed to Talleyrand, 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs — like himself, a 
 past master in histrionic art ? 
 
 " Since I have been in Italy," he wrote, " I 
 have received no aid from the love of the 
 people for liberty and equality. My only true 
 auxiliaries have been the good discipline of the 
 army and the respedl: which we have shown for 
 religion, which has been carried to the extent of 
 cajoHng its ministers. . . . This is history. 
 The remainder, which is all very fine in pro- 
 clamations, printed discourses, and so forth, is 
 so much romance." 
 
 During the past two years I have endeavoured 
 to make an exhaustive study of the mental traits 
 of Bonaparte, and in that quest I have groped 
 my way through an intricate mass of literature 
 produced mostly by his contemporaries. I have
 
 1 6 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 read conflicfling memoirs, pamphlets, poems, 
 and letters about him, as well as his own letters 
 and his own state papers. I have come to the 
 conclusion that the most reliable clue to his 
 chara(5ler is to be found in his own correspon- 
 dence. I do not mean his letters intended for 
 the public, but his unstudied and unconven- 
 tional missives to partisans. There he revealed 
 himself with approximate truth. There, as a 
 player in a dressing-room, he spoke every-day 
 language and discarded official trappings. 
 When off the stage, he was often coarse and 
 commonplace. When on the stage, he ap- 
 peared grandiose and profound, and postured 
 for posterity. 
 
 The greater his success, the more intense 
 became his self-reliance. " Do you suppose," 
 he said m the hearing of Miot de Melito, " that 
 to make great men out of Direcftory lawyers, 
 the Carnots and the Barras, I triumph in Italy? 
 Do you suppose, also, that it is for the estab- 
 lishment of a Republic ? What an idea ! A 
 Republic of thirty million men ! With our 
 customs, our vices, how is that possible ? It 
 is a delusion which the French are infatuated 
 with, and which will vanish along with so 
 many others. What they want is glory, the
 
 THE GENERAL 1 7 
 
 gratification of vanity — they know nothing 
 about liberty. Look at the army ! Our suc- 
 cesses, just attained, our triumphs, have already 
 brought out the true character of the French 
 soldier. I am all for him. Let the Direcflory 
 deprive me of the command, and it will see if 
 it is master. A nation needs a chief, who is 
 famous through his exploits, and not theories 
 of government, phrases, and speeches by 
 ideologists, which Frenchmen do not compre- 
 hend." 
 
 While Bonaparte was in Italy, Talma created 
 the title role in ' Oscar,' a drama by Arnault, 
 produced at the Theatre de la Republique in 
 Paris. The play met with favour, and the 
 dramatist sent a copy to the General beyond 
 the Alps with this inscription : 
 
 *' Toi, dont la jeunesse occup^e 
 Aux jeux d'Apollon et de Mars, 
 Comme le premier des C6sars 
 Manie et la plume et I'^p^e, 
 Qui peut-etre au milieu des camps 
 R6diges d'immortels memoires, 
 D6robe-leur quelques instants 
 Et trouve, s'il se peut, le temps 
 De me lire entre deux victoires ! " 
 
 Bonaparte, meanwhile, at regular intervals, 
 sent epistles to Josephine that resembled those 
 
 c
 
 1 8 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 which lovers on the stage indite to their 
 mistresses. 
 
 " You are coming, are you not, my darling ? " 
 wrote he. " You will soon be here by my side, 
 and I can hold you in m}'- arms, close to my 
 heart, which beats only for you ! O, take wings, 
 beloved, and fly to me ! " . . . "I hope ere 
 long," he continued, " to clasp you in my arms 
 and to cover you with a million kisses hot as 
 those given beneath the equator !".... 
 -" Show me some of your faults. Be less beauti- 
 ful, less gracious, tender and good. Above all, 
 never be jealous, and never weep, for your tears 
 drive me crazy. They fire my blood ! " 
 
 His reverberating words were ever followed 
 by lightning deeds. 
 
 " Soldiers," he gloried, *' in fifteen days you 
 have gained six vicftories, captured twenty-one 
 standards, fifty-five guns, several strong places, 
 conquered the richest portion of Piedmont. You 
 have made fifteen thousand prisoners and have 
 killed or wounded ten thousand men. . . . 
 Hitherto you have fought for sterile rocks, which 
 bear witness to your courage, but which were 
 useless to the countr3\ To-day you equal by 
 5'our services the armies of Holland and of the 
 Rhine. Devoid of everything, you have sup-
 
 THE GENERAL 1 9 
 
 plied everything. You have gained battles 
 without guns, passed rivers without bridges, 
 accomplished forced marches without shoes, 
 bivouacked without brandy and often without 
 bread. . . . To-day you are amply provided 
 for. The magazines captured from the enemy 
 are numerous ; the siege and field pieces have 
 arrived. ... I promise you the conquest of 
 Italy — but on one condition." 
 
 Bonaparte checked the enthusiasm of his men 
 with masterly effecft. 
 
 " You must swear to respecfk the people you 
 deliver," continued he, " and repress the horrible 
 pillage in which scoundrels, excited by the 
 enemy, have indulged. Without that, you will 
 not be liberators, but a pestilence, and your 
 vi(5lories, your courage, your success, and the 
 blood of your brothers who have perished, will 
 all be lost, as well as honour and glory." 
 
 They greeted him with joyous shouts when, 
 after his splendid feats of arms, he showed 
 himself in Paris. They applauded him in the 
 streets, in the public squares, and in the theatres. 
 Chenier wrote a hymn in his honour. Mehul 
 set it to music. Lebrun, the poet, sang: 
 
 " II6ros, cher h la paix, aiix armes, a la victoire, 
 II conquit en deux an.s mille biecles de gloire I " 
 
 C— 2
 
 20 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Barras, jealous of the popular idol, in his 
 memoirs gives this pen piifture of him. The 
 picfture, as you notice, accentuates the theatric 
 proclivities of Bonaparte. 
 
 " He had for a long time been taciturn, until 
 the moment arrived when his marriage was 
 settled upon, and he obtained command of the 
 army of Italy. Thereupon he seemed a prey 
 to the maddest joy ; and every time after dining 
 with me he thought he could let himself go in 
 the presence of my guests, he would ask my 
 leave to close the door in order to be free to 
 play comedy. This comedy was always a 
 genuine improvisation, the idea of which was 
 sometimes supplied to him, and he would in- 
 stantly dialogise, himself playing several parts 
 simultaneously ; he would ask my leave to take 
 off his coat, and taking table-cloths and table- 
 napkins, would suddenly emerge in the most 
 grotesque disguises ; although the delivery of 
 his improvisations was not very fluent, he 
 nevertheless adopted every inflecftion of voice 
 at his command to give variety to the scene?, 
 and he managed to do so fairly well." 
 
 Readers of the * Journal des Debats ' came 
 across this: " They gave, day before yesterday, 
 at the Theatre de la Republiqueet des Arts, the
 
 THE GENERAL 21 
 
 second performance of ' Horatius Codes.' The 
 announcement of this piece had attracfted an 
 immense house. General .Bonaparte appeared. 
 Although he was not in uniform, and had taken 
 pains to hide himself at the back of the box 
 (second tier, facing the stage), he was discovered 
 by the audience, which immediately broke into 
 unanimous and continued applause and shouts 
 of ' Vive Bonaparte ! ' 
 
 " The modesty of the young hero seemed to 
 suffer by reason of this reception. He said to 
 someone in a neighbouring box : ' If I had 
 known that the boxes are so exposed to view, I 
 would not have come.' " 
 
 " After these ovations," says Marmont, 
 " General Bonaparte affedted the greatest sim- 
 plicity. He avoided showing himself in public, 
 and this feigned modesty, in no way to his 
 taste, was well calculated by him, for it increased 
 his popularity." 
 
 During these eventful months, Lemercier 
 wrote his tragedy ' Ophis,' the scenes of which 
 were laid on the banks of the Nile. Bonaparte 
 was already meditating upon his expedition to 
 that then mysterious realm. 
 
 One evening the dramatist was invited to the 
 General's house, and asked to read his play.
 
 22 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Among the guests were Desaix, Kleber, Monge, 
 Berthollet, Laplace, and Fourrier. The play 
 seemed to meet with approval. Bonaparte 
 shook the poet's hand, and said : " You have 
 created a magnificent theme, which perhaps 
 will be found more timely than you think." 
 The General confided to the dramatist his in- 
 tention of conquering Egypt, and asked him to 
 be a member of the expedition. Lemercier did 
 not accept this invitation, but his piece was 
 played on the day when the public learned of 
 more vidlories. They voted it a success, for 
 they thought that they saw an allusion to the 
 favourite of the hour in these lines : 
 
 " II court pour son pays de victoire en victoire, 
 Son g^nie accomplit tous ses rSves de gloire." 
 
 He then lived in a house in the Rue Chante- 
 reine purchased by him from Talma. He held 
 select receptions there. On one occasion, while 
 Madame Tallien was present, Arnault remarked, 
 in the course of the conversation, that he had 
 brought home a curious yataghan from his 
 travels. 
 
 " What have you done with it ? " asked 
 Bonaparte. 
 
 " I gave it to Talma," answered Arnault. 
 
 " That is like a poet," said Bonaparte.
 
 THE GENERAL 23 
 
 " Those gentlemen pay court even to the kings 
 of the theatre." 
 
 '* I do not pay court even to heroes," frankly 
 retorted Arnault. " I pay court only to the 
 ladies. Madame is here to bear me out." 
 
 On the night of the 3rd of March, 1798, 
 Bonaparte dined at Barras', and went thence to 
 the Theatre-Fran9ais, where they played the 
 ' Macbeth' of Shakespeare maltreated by Ducis. 
 After the performance, the General bade his 
 friends farewell, left quietly for Toulon, and 
 embarked for Egypt. 
 
 I shall not dwell upon Bonaparte's expedition. 
 There was a group of savants in his train. He 
 also had Rigel, as piano-player, Villoteau, as 
 singer, and Grandmaison, as poet. Bourrienne 
 was his private secretary. Lavalette was his 
 reader. I shall not detail how he assisted Ar- 
 nault in writing a tragedy on ship board. The 
 dramatist later acknowledged that the fifth 
 a(S\ of * Les Venetiens' was the work of his 
 superior. Bonaparte, during that expedition, 
 assumed theatric attitudes, dressed in theatric 
 garb, and drafted theatric fanfaronades. He 
 came back from the land of the sphinx a 
 changed man. He was more ambitious than 
 ever. He was no longer an admirer of Rous-
 
 24 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 seau, whose sentimentality and whose soci- 
 ology were now equally distasteful to him. 
 
 '* I am especially disgusted with Rousseau," 
 said he to Roederer, "since I've seen the Orient. 
 Man in the wild state is a dog."
 
 The Consul
 
 Ill 
 
 THE CONSUL 
 
 Bonaparte was not slow to take advantage of 
 of the civic discord which he found prevalent in 
 France when he again set his foot upon her soil. 
 He secretly intrigued for mightier and more 
 undivided sway, on the one hand, and he issued 
 proclamations to the people and to the army on 
 the other. 
 
 "Frenchmen," he declaimed, "on my return 
 to France, I found division reigning amongst all 
 the authorities. They agreed only on this single 
 point, that the Constitution was half destroyed, 
 and was unable to protect liberty ! Each party 
 in turn came to me, confided to me their designs, 
 anjd requested my support. I refused to be a 
 man of a party. ... I presented myself 
 before the Council of the Five Hundred, alone, 
 unarmed, my head uncovered. . . . My 
 objecTt was to restore to the majority the expres-
 
 28 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 sion of its will, and to restore to it its power. 
 The stilettoes, which had menaced the deputies, 
 were instantly raised against their dehverer. 
 Twenty assassins rushed upon me, and aimed at 
 my breast. The grenadiers of the legislative 
 body, whom I had left at the door of the hall, 
 ran forward and placed themselves between me 
 and the assassins. 
 
 " One of these brave grenadiers had his coat 
 pierced by a stiletto. They bore me off. 
 
 *' At the same moment, cries of ' Outlaw him ' 
 were raised against the defender of the law. It 
 was the horrid cry of assassins against the power 
 destined to repress them. 
 
 " They crowded around the President, uttering 
 threats. With arms in their hands, they com- 
 manded him to declare the outlawry. I was 
 informed of this. I ordered him to be rescued 
 from their fury, and six grenadiers of the legis- 
 lative body brought him out. Immediately 
 afterwards, some grenadiers of the legislative 
 body charged into the hall and cleared it. 
 
 " The facftions, intimidated, dispersed and 
 fled. The majority, freed from their assaults, 
 returned freely and peaceably into the hall, 
 listened to the propositions made for public 
 safety, deliberated, and drew up the salutary
 
 THE CONSUL 29 
 
 resolutions which will become the new and pro- 
 visional law of the Republic." 
 
 By theatric devices, thus theatrically de- 
 scribed, Bonaparte was soon most comfortably 
 established at the Malmaison. He was the 
 virtual master of the country. He took interest 
 in everything, interfered in everything, and had 
 his eye everywhere and on everyone. He in- 
 spired pamphlets. He edited newspaper articles. 
 
 It is not odd that he occasionally focussed 
 his opera-glass upon the stage, for he soon re- 
 cognized that the drama is an important means 
 of working upon public opinion. He quickly 
 discerned that his adopted countrymen were 
 swayed by the scenic and spectacular. He es- 
 tablished pomp and show at his court and in his 
 camps. There was soon an elaborate etiquette. 
 Presently he inaugurated parades and pageants. 
 
 I see him walking up and down in his study, 
 his hands clasped at his back, dicflating a note 
 like this to Lucien ; 
 
 " The Consuls of the Republic desire that you 
 will inform the managers of the different theatres 
 that no dramatic work ought to be accepted 
 without their permission. The head of the de- 
 partment of Public Instruction should be held 
 responsible for the performance of all pieces
 
 30 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 contrary to good morals and social order. . . . 
 The First Consul would see with pleasure the 
 suppression of the couplet alluding to him in the 
 ' Tableau des Sabines.' " 
 
 Bonaparte shared the opinion of Fletcher, of 
 Saltoun, on the potency of popular song. " I 
 beg," he again dicflated to Lucien, " you will ask 
 the citizens Lebrun and Rouget de I'lsle to 
 write a ' Hymne aux Combats ' to a well-known 
 air like the ' Marseillaise,' or the ' Chant du 
 Depart.' This hymn must contain things ap- 
 plicable to all the circumstances of war, and 
 propound the idea that peace follows in the train 
 of victory." 
 
 Grassini, the operatic diva, fascinated him 
 during his campaign in Italy. I cannot tell 
 whether it was her voice or her person that 
 enlisted his passing fancy, but he besieged her 
 gallantly, and she soon displayed the white 
 fichu of surrender. I need hardly add that 
 the complaisant siren later obtained an engage- 
 ment in the capital, as well as golden tokens of 
 the soldier's appreciation. 
 
 Bonaparte never forgot a favour nor forgave 
 an injury. 
 
 Andrieux, the dramatist, was one of the few 
 men who then had the pluck to tell the master
 
 THE CONSUL 3 I 
 
 the truth. Alluding to the flatterers who sur- 
 rounded him, and the feebleness of their support, 
 he said one day : 
 
 " Citizen First Consul, you can never lean 
 except upon that which resists." 
 
 Fouch^ offered Andrieux the post of censor. 
 *' Look you, Citizen Minister," jauntily replied 
 the playwright, " my role is to be hanged, not to 
 be the hangman." 
 
 Bonaparte entertained singular notions re- 
 specting literary copyrights. On hearing that 
 a piece entitled ' Misanthropie et Repentir ' had 
 been brought out at the Odeon, he said to his 
 private secretary, who had a hand in it : 
 
 " Bourrienne, you have been robbed ! " 
 
 " How, General? " 
 
 " You have been robbed, I tell you, and they 
 are now acfling your piece." 
 
 Bourrienne explained that he had merely trans- 
 lated the play from the original by Kotzebue, 
 but the master, who liked the play, and often 
 went to see it a(5ted, persisted that the work was 
 his secretary's property. This man, who ap- 
 propriated works of art with a soldier's ruthless 
 hand and eliminated the boundaries of states with 
 the stroke of a diplomat's casuistic pen, was most 
 scrupulous on the subjedl of literary property.
 
 32 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 I have observed that Bonaparte became less 
 partisan of Rousseau as he advanced in years- 
 Stanislas de Girardin has left us an account of 
 a visit of the Consul to the tomb of the philoso- 
 pher, and his account of the visit gives weight 
 to this opinion. 
 
 The First Consul paused before the tomb of 
 Jean Jacques, and said that it would have been 
 better for the repose of France had this man 
 never existed. 
 
 "And wh}' so. Citizen Consul ?" asked Girardin. 
 
 " It was he who prepared the French Revolu- 
 tion. I should not have thought, Citizen Consul, 
 that you had any reason to complain of the 
 Revolution." 
 
 "Well," answered he, "the future will show 
 whether it would not have been better for the 
 peace of the world that neither I nor Rousseau 
 had ever lived." 
 
 And so saying, he continued his walk with a 
 dreamy air. 
 
 There is a volume of significance in that walk. 
 We can readily picfture Bonaparte making that 
 remark and slowly moving away, conscious that 
 he was being observed. He had an eye to 
 mise-en-scene always. One day he asked Segur 
 what people would say of him after his death.
 
 THE CONSUL 33 
 
 Segur politely enlarged upon the regrets which 
 would be universally expressed. " Not at all," 
 replied Bonaparte ; and then, drawing in his 
 breath in a significant manner, indicative of 
 the universal relief, he added, " They'll say 
 «Ouf!'" 
 
 *' All was calculation \vith Bonaparte," saj^s 
 Bourrienne. " To produce effecfl was his highest 
 gratification. He let slip no opportunity of 
 doing or saying things to dazzle the multitude. 
 He congratulated himself on having paid a visit 
 to Daubenton, at the Jardm des Plantes, and 
 talked with great complacency of the dis- 
 tinguished way in which he had treated the 
 contemporary of Buffon." 
 
 He had a certain penchant for amateur thea- 
 tricals at his court. Beaumarchais' ' Barbier 
 de Seville ' was a play much to his taste. On 
 one occasion, when Lauriston, his aide-de-camp, 
 a(5led Almaviva, Hortense, his step-daughter, 
 Rosina, Eugene, his step-son, Basil, he laughed 
 heartily at the halting histrionism of these 
 parlour players. On another occasion, when 
 his brother Lucien attempted the leading male 
 part in the ' Alzire ' of Voltaire, and his 
 sister Elisa essayed the leading female part, 
 he bantered them unmercifully. " I think we 
 
 D
 
 34 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 have seen 'Alzire' beautifully parodied," he 
 said. 
 
 Bonaparte thought little of literature in those 
 stirring times. He took literature, as he took 
 snuff: he merely sniffed at it. He despised 
 literary hacks like Barere and Lebrun. He 
 hated ideologists like Necker and Lafayette. 
 
 In spite of his growing positivism, however, 
 he retained his love of the old dramatic poets, 
 and quoted them readily. Madame de Remusat 
 relates that, on the evening before the execution 
 of the Due d'Enghien, while she was playing at 
 chess with the master, he said in a low voice, 
 *' Soyons amis, Cinna," and then repeated the 
 following lines from the ' Alzire ' of Voltaire : 
 
 " Des dieux que nous servons connais la difference. 
 Les tiens t'ont command^ le meutre et la vengeance ; 
 Et le mien, quand ton bras vient de m'assassiner, 
 M'ordonne de te plaindre et de te pardonner ! " 
 
 I have already given one proof of the Consul's 
 opinion of the value of songs. Here is another: 
 
 " I beg you will have a song written for the 
 invasion of England to the tune of the ' Chant 
 du Depart ' ; have several songs written upon 
 the subje(5t, to different airs," he instru<5ted 
 Chaptal. 
 
 •* I know that several comedies appropriate to
 
 THE CONSUL 35 
 
 the circumstance have been presented. A choice 
 should be made so that they may be played in 
 the various theatres of Paris, and especially at 
 the camps of Boulogne, Bruges, and other places 
 where the army is quartered." 
 
 Georges, the adtress of Comedie-Fran9aise, 
 caught the master's eye. He occasionally re- 
 ceived her in his private apartments. They say 
 that he often treated her with more or less con- 
 temptuous lightness. They afifirm that he un- 
 graciously twitted her upon her feet, which were 
 too large to suit his fastidious taste. They report 
 that when she asked him for his portrait, Bona- 
 parte tossed her a double napoleon. " Here it 
 is," said he, with mock affability. " I am told it 
 is a good likeness." He was never led by an 
 a(5tress as Charles H. was led by Nell Gwynne, 
 or as Ludwig I. was led by Lola Montes. 
 
 Madame de Remusat limns for us a sketch 
 of him as a reader and a critic at this period. 
 *' One evening," says she, " while we were at 
 Boulogne, Bonaparte turned the conversation 
 upon literature. Lemercier, the poet, whom 
 Bonaparte liked, had just finished a tragedy, 
 called * Philippe Auguste,' which contained 
 allusions to the First Consul, and had brought 
 the manuscript to him. Bonaparte took it into
 
 36 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 his head to read this produdliion aloud to me. 
 It was amusing to hear a man, who was always 
 in a hurry when he had nothing to do, trying 
 to read Alexandrine verses, of which he did not 
 know the metre, and pronouncing them so badly 
 that he did not seem to understand what he 
 read. Besides, he no sooner opened any book 
 than he wanted to criticise it. I asked him to 
 give me the manuscript, and I read it out myself. 
 Then he began to talk ; took the play out of my 
 hand, struck out whole passages, made several 
 notes, and found fault with the plot and the 
 characflers. He did not run much risk of spoil- 
 ing the piece, for it was very bad. Singularly 
 enough, when he had done reading it, he told 
 me he did not wish the author to know that all 
 these erasures and corredlions were made by so 
 important a hand, and he direcfled me to make 
 them myself. I objected to this, as may be 
 supposed. I had great difficulty in convincing 
 him that, as it might be thought strange that 
 even he should thus have meddled with an 
 author's manuscript, it would be contrary to 
 all the * convenances ' for me to have taken 
 such a liberty. ' Well, well,' he said, ' perhaps 
 you are right ; but, on this, as on every other 
 occasion, I own I do not like that vague and
 
 THE CONSUL 37 
 
 levelling phrase the ' convenances,' which j^ou 
 women are always using.' 
 
 ' But,' I replied, ' is not the application of 
 these laws to the conducfl of life like that of 
 dramatic unities to the drama ? They give order 
 and regularity, and they do not really trammel 
 genius, except when it would, without their con- 
 trol, err against good taste.' 
 
 ' Ah, 'good taste ! ' That is another of those 
 classical words which I do not adopt. It is, 
 ^perhaps, my own fault ; but there are certain 
 rules which mean nothing to me. For example, 
 what is called ' style,' good or bad, does not 
 affe<5t me. I care only for the force of the 
 thought. I used to like Ossian, but it was for 
 the same reason which made me delight in the 
 murmur of the wind and waves. In Egypt, I 
 tried to read the Iliad ; but I got tired of it. 
 As for French poets, I understand none of 
 them except Corneille. That man understood 
 politics, and, if he had been trained to public 
 affairs, he would have been a statesman. I 
 think I appreciate him more truly than anyone 
 else does, because I exclude all the dramatic 
 sentiments from my view of him. For example, 
 it is only lately I have come to understand the 
 denouement of ' Cinna.' At first I regarded it
 
 38 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 as merely a contrivance for a pathetic fifth a(5l ; 
 tor really, clemency, properly speaking, is such 
 a poor little virtue, when it is not founded on 
 policy, that to turn Augustus suddenly into a 
 kind-hearted prince appeared to me an unworthy 
 climax. However, I saw Monvel acft in the 
 tragedy one night, and the mystery of the great 
 conception was revealed to me. He pronounced 
 the ' Soyons amis, Cinna,' in so cunning and 
 subtle a tone that I saw at once the acftion was 
 only a feint of the tyrant, and I approved as a 
 calculation what had appeared to me silly as 
 a sentiment. The line should always be so 
 delivered that, of all those who hear it, Only 
 Cinna is deceived ! ' 
 
 ' As for Racine, he pleases me in ' Iphigenie.' 
 That piece, while it lasts, makes one breathe 
 the poetic air of Greece. In ' Britannicus,' he 
 has been trammelled by Tacitus, against whom 
 I am prejudiced, because he does not suffi- 
 ciently explain his meaning. The tragedies of 
 Voltaire are passionate, but they do not go 
 deeply into human nature. For instance, his 
 ' Mahomet ' is neither a prophet nor an Arab. 
 He is an impostor, who might have been edu- 
 cated at the Ecole Polytechnique, for he uses 
 power as I might use it in an age Uke the
 
 THE CONSUL 39 
 
 present. And then, the murder of the father 
 by the son is a useless crime. Great men are 
 never cruel, except from necessity.' 
 
 ' As for comedy, it interests me about as 
 much as the gossip of your drawing rooms. 
 I understand your admiration of Moliere, but 
 I do not share it ; he has placed his personages 
 in situations which have no attracStions forme.'" 
 
 Playwrights often had the faculty of irritatmg 
 the master. Dupaty, the farceur, published a 
 light operette called ' L'Antichambre,' in which 
 the adulators of the day were mildly ridiculed, 
 and three valets were made to ape the man- 
 ners and even the dress of the three men in 
 power. When this operette was produced, the 
 Consul is said to have been highly incensed. 
 He ordered that the a(5tors be exposed at the 
 Greve in the costumes which they had dared 
 to assume, and that they should there be 
 stripped by the executioner, and he further 
 commanded that Dupaty be sent to San Do- 
 mingo. When Josephine heard of this extreme 
 measure, she interceded in behalf of the author, 
 and the matter was dropped, 
 
 Alexandre Duval was another playwright who 
 wrote against the official grain at the time. 
 His play, ' Edouard en Ecosse,' was objedted
 
 40 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 to by the police, because in it the audiences 
 applauded the exiled Stuarts, and by inference, 
 the exiled Bourbons. Duval deemed it wise 
 to absent himself for a time. When he came 
 back he was more prudent, and at the request 
 of Picard, a politically colourless comedian, he 
 was even appointed manager of one of the 
 large theatres of the capital. 
 
 Bonaparte now became more and more 
 bellicose in spirit, and more and more verbose 
 in style. His word was law, he knew it, and he 
 cared less and less how he expressed himself. 
 His handwriting, always difficult to read, be- 
 came more and more hieroglyphic. Lord 
 Holland says that he seldom wrote, but dic- 
 tated much. 
 
 " It was difficult to follow him, and he often 
 objedled to any revision of what he had dic- 
 tated. When a word had escaped his amanu- 
 ensis, and he was asked what it was, he would 
 answer, somewhat pettishly: 'Je ne repeterai 
 pas le mot. Refldchissez, rappelez-vous du mot 
 que j'ai didle, et ecrivez-le, car moi, je ne le 
 repeterai pas.' " 
 
 I still detecft the acTtor in Bonaparte. During 
 his blustering interview, for instance, with Lord 
 Whitworth, Ambassador of Great Britain, he
 
 THE CONSUL 4I 
 
 played a part. He raved, walked up and down, 
 scowled, and apostrophised. Count Marcoff and 
 Chevalier Azzara, who were standing together 
 at a little distance, observed that memorable 
 scene. The Consul addressed his remarks to 
 them as well as to the Ambassador. 
 
 " The English want war," he exclaimed, 
 " but if they are the first to draw their swords 
 from the scabbards, I shall be the last to 
 sheathe the sword again ! They don't respedl 
 treaties ! Henceforth treaties must be covered 
 with crape ! " 
 
 His anger was often only simulated. Bona- 
 parte seemed to be a believer in the docftrine 
 of Diderot that players, in order to be mas- 
 ters of their art, should never really feel the 
 deep emotions which they endeavour to ex- 
 press. Thus, after an explosion, he later 
 remarked to Abbe de Pradt, " You thought I 
 was very angry, didn't you ? Well, disabuse 
 yourself. With me, anger never goes beyond 
 this." And Bonaparte indicated his neck, con- 
 veying to his auditor that with him passion 
 never rose to the head, and never deprived him 
 of reason. 
 
 At the theatre Bonaparte often had a bored 
 look and yawned. *' I pity you," said Talley-
 
 42 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 rand to Remusat, "You are compelled to amuse 
 a man who cannot be amused." 
 
 Madame de Remusat furnishes another sample 
 of bookish conversations at the Malmaison. 
 
 " Madame Bonaparte," says she, " began to 
 talk of a tragedy (I do not know what it was) 
 which was then being performed. On this, 
 the First Consul passed the living authors^ in 
 review, and spoke of Ducis, whose style he did 
 not admire. He deplored the mediocrity of our 
 tragic poets, and said that, above everything 
 in the world, he should like to recompense the 
 author of a fine tragedy. I ventured to say that 
 Ducis had spoilt the * Othello ' of Shakespeare. 
 This long English name coming from my lips 
 produced a sensation among our silent and 
 attentive audience in epaulettes. Bonaparte 
 did not altogether like anything EngHsh being 
 praised. We argued the point awhile. All I 
 said was very commonplace ; but I had named 
 Shakespeare, I had held my own against the 
 Consul, I had praised an English author. What 
 audacity! What a prodigy of erudition ! I was 
 obliged to keep silence for several days after." 
 
 Bonaparte gave a theatre party at St. Cloud 
 one night. The Diplomatic Corps was present. 
 The play was the ' Esther ' of Racine. After
 
 THE CONSUL 43 
 
 the tragedy, the curtain was rung down, the 
 specflators were about to leave the theatre, 
 when the curtain was again raised. An acflor 
 made his appearance with a roll of paper in his 
 hand and read on ode written by Fontanes. 
 The ode was an acrid attack on the Enghsh. 
 Miot de Melito, who recounts the incident, says 
 that the ode was composed and recited at the 
 express command of the Consul, who had read 
 the poem in private before it was read aloud in 
 public, and who had even increased the strength 
 and point of certain passages. 
 
 The Diplomatic Corps was shocked at this 
 unusual proceeding, but Bonaparte seldom neg- 
 lected an opportunity to startle or to stun. 
 
 Arnault brought him the last adl of * Les 
 Venetiens' and read it to him. The Con- 
 sul was curt in his disapproval of the climax. 
 He was averse to so tame and trite an 
 ending as the happy union of the hero and the 
 heroine. 
 
 *' Your hero ought to die," said he. " You 
 must kill him. Yes, kill him ! " 
 
 Bonaparte never underestimated the influence 
 exerted bythe dramatic profession. 
 
 " I wish you would send a company of French 
 comedians to Egypt," he di(5tated to Chaptal.
 
 44 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 " The state of prosperity in which the army of 
 the East finds itself, and its idleness in the 
 great city of Cairo, renders this matter, which, 
 at first sight, may appear trivial, necessary, 
 even from a political point of view. A sufficient 
 number of artists might be found at Marseilles 
 and Toulon. . . I should not regret spending 
 forty thousand francs in this affair. . ." 
 
 He wrote in the same tenor to Laplace, the 
 astronomer, who was then at the head of the 
 navy department. " The Consuls of the Republic 
 charge me, Citizen Minister, to ask you, without 
 loss of time, to compose a troupe of comedians 
 for Egypt. It will be well to add some ballet 
 girls." 
 
 Meanwhile Bonaparte was most censorious 
 as to what was going on the boards at home. 
 They played the 'Mdrope' of Voltaire at 
 Lyons one night. Talma and Raucourt were 
 in the bill. The line — 
 
 " Le premier qui fut roi ffit un soldat heureux " — 
 
 was much applauded because the public thought 
 it alluded to their successful leader. 
 
 Bonaparte was in a temper, and summoned 
 Chaptal, and asked him why he had allowed that 
 piece to be produced. The minister explained
 
 THE CONSUL 45 
 
 as best he could. " I don't wish that play to 
 be performed here or in Paris. What's the 
 meaning of this popular line : 
 
 ' Le premier qui fdt roi f(it un soldat heureux ' ? 
 
 " I say that a man who raises himself to a 
 throne is the foremost man of his time. There 
 is no luck about it. There's merit on the one 
 hand and gratitude on the other. And, then, 
 what is the meaning of these tirades against 
 Poliphonte who conducfls himself as a man of 
 honour towards Merope ? Why have him killed ? 
 What are the motives ? He alone does his duty. 
 The others are assassins. I don't want that 
 piece played again." 
 
 He let pass no chance to bring himself 
 before the public. He veiled his ambitious 
 projecfts in the most specious disguises. When 
 Washington died, Bonaparte issued a pompous 
 proclamation praising that leader, and Fontanes 
 was asked to deliver an eulogy upon the deceased. 
 In this eulogy Bonaparte was extolled, by com- 
 parison and inference, in more laudatory terms 
 than was Washington. 
 
 Kings were now made and unmade by the 
 man. It would have been strange, indeed, 
 if he had not himself aspired to wear a crown.
 
 46 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 He proceeded cautiously, however. One night, 
 during the King of Etruria's visit in Paris, 
 Bonaparte took him to see the ' Oedipe ' of 
 Voltaire, at the Comedie-Fran^aise. The audi- 
 ence applauded the line in which Philocflete 
 says: 
 
 " J'ai fait des souverains et n'ai pas voulu I'Stre." 
 
 The application was marked, and the audience 
 saw it, and understood the adtor who said that 
 he had made sovereigns but did not wish to be 
 one himself. " The fools," exclaimed Bonaparte. 
 " They shall see ! They shall see ! " 
 
 They soon saw.
 
 The Emperor
 
 IV 
 
 TPIE EMPEROR 
 
 Napoleon was soon absolute master. The once 
 penniless military adventurer soon placed upon 
 his head the imperial crown. Statesmen, jurists, 
 litterateurs, soldiers, scientists, and diplomats 
 did him homage. He familiarly pinched the ears 
 of ladies in the drawing-room and had gentle- 
 men read to him the papers and pamphlets of 
 the day in the study. 
 
 Talleyrand says that he did the work of four 
 men. He did all his work rapidly. He ate Hke 
 a chief of banditti. He took hot baths to keep 
 his flesh down like an athlete. He had himself 
 massaged with brutal violence like an ascetic. 
 He was direcfl in his questions and diffuse in his 
 answers. He tore open with his fingers the 
 pages of books that he read. He tired out his 
 secretaries when he dicftated. He cajoled or 
 crushed, as suited his policy, poets, playwrights, 
 
 E
 
 50 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 preachers, journalists, and song writers. He 
 killed news and fabricated news, as he deemed 
 necessary. He opened private letters. He in- 
 spired military bulletins which for picturesque 
 mendacity rival the tales of modern circus 
 managers. He superintended the manufacfture 
 of school books and edited official catechisms. 
 He indicated how historians should write his- 
 tory and how preachers should preach sermons. 
 Nothing escaped him. Nothing was too minute 
 for his gigantic brain. 
 
 Stendhal, one of the shrewdest observers of 
 that time, made the following entry in his diary 
 on July 14, 1804. "We see B. perfecflly. He 
 passes at fifteen paces from us. . . . He is on a 
 beautiful white horse, in a fine new coat, black 
 hat, uniform of Colonel of the Guards. . . . He 
 salutes continually and smiles. 'Tis the stage 
 smile of the ac5lor who shows his teeth, but 
 whose eyes are without smiles." 
 
 Napoleon now more than ever indulged in his- 
 trionic mummery, and, amid martial music and 
 blatant panegyrics, distributed eagles and crosses. 
 He brooked no critic near his throne. He set 
 spies on Benjamin Constant, and he banished 
 Madame de Stael. 
 
 One day, Chateaubriand wrote a review for
 
 THE EMPEROR 51 
 
 the ' Mercure de France,' in which he said : 
 " 'Tis in vain that Nero prospers. Tacitus is 
 already born in the empire. Soon the author 
 of the Annals will expose the deified tyrant, as 
 nothing more than a histrion, an incendiary, 
 and a parricide." 
 
 Napoleon appeared wild with indignation. 
 "What!" he shouted. "Does Chateaubriand 
 think I am a fool, that I do not know what he 
 means ? If he goes on in this way, I will have 
 him sabred on the steps of the Tuileries." 
 
 Madame de Remusat, we have seen, dwelt upon 
 Napoleon's admiration of Corneille. Madame 
 Junot, Duchess d'Abrantes, is another autho- 
 rity on this point. Her account of the conver- 
 sation between the Emperor and Cardinal Maury 
 is well known. 
 
 " How is it you do not like Corneille ? " 
 
 " Sire," replied the Cardinal, " I admire Cor- 
 neille, but I like Racine." 
 
 " And I accuse your Racine of affecftation in 
 all his love scenes," said the Emperor, "for love 
 he must have in all his plays ; it is essential to 
 the piece as a prompter to the acftors. None but 
 young people can possibly like Racine. And 
 how, diable, can you, Monsieur le Cardinal, set 
 up for a champion of Racine, the ladies' poet ? 
 
 E — 2
 
 52 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Give me Corneille ! He is the man who knew 
 the world." 
 
 " And how should he come by his knowledge, 
 since he saw no one ? " 
 
 The Emperor cast a contemptuous look at the 
 Cardinal, as if he now measured him for the first 
 time. 
 
 " That is precisely why I maintain that Cor- 
 neille is a great man. At a distance from courts, 
 from intrigues and from business, he guessed, as 
 it were, the true situation of empires, sovereigns, 
 and people. The great Conde, on seeing some 
 piece of Corneille's represented— I believe it was 
 * Sertorious'— exclaimed, 'Where did Corneille 
 learn the art of war ? " " And I say," added the 
 Emperor, " that for Corneille's fine tragedies to 
 be justly appreciated, the audience should be 
 composed of kings, ministers, and great func- 
 tionaries." 
 
 Napoleon had a habit of depreciating Racine 
 and Voltaire, but we find that he quoted them 
 frequently. 
 
 " He would glance over the titles of his 
 books," remarks Meneval, " saying a word of 
 praise or of blame of the authors, and would 
 linger with preference over the tragedies of 
 Corneille, ' Zaire,' or Voltaire's ' La Mort de
 
 THE EMPEROR 53 
 
 Cesar,' or ' Brutus.' He would read tirades 
 from the tragedies aloud, then would shut up 
 the book and walk up and dov/n, reciting verses 
 from * La Mort de Cesar.' The passages which 
 he recited with the greatest pleasure were the 
 following : 
 
 ' J'ai servi, command^, vaincu, quarante annees ; 
 Du monde, entre mes mains, j'ai vu les destinees ; 
 Et j'ai touj lurs connu, qu'en chaque 6vinement 
 Le destin des 6tats dependait d'un moment ! ' 
 
 " When he was tired of reading or writing, 
 he would begin to sing in a strong but false 
 voice." 
 
 Napoleon and Talma were excellent friends. 
 One morning, after a performance of ' Britan- 
 nicus,' the acflor presented himself at the palace. 
 The Emperor was busy dictating at the time, 
 but he stopped his work, and chatted with his 
 stage guest. The subjecft of conversation was 
 the performance of the preceding night. 
 
 "Your impersonation of Nero," said the 
 imperial critic, " does not make sufficiently 
 clear the struggle going on between a depraved 
 nature and a good education. I should also 
 like it were you to make fewer gestures. Such 
 a nature as Nero's is not expansive, but self- 
 concentrated. On the other hand, I cannot
 
 54 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 sufficiently praise the simple and natural form 
 to which you have reduced tragedy. Come to 
 think of it, men in authority, whether they owe 
 their power to birth or talent, whether they are 
 agitated by passion or lost in deep thought, may 
 speak in a higher key than usual, but they 
 should, for all that, speak in a natural manner. 
 At this very moment, for instance, we are 
 speaking in a conversational tone and yet we 
 are making history." 
 
 Napoleon was often as melancholy as the 
 most melancholy of histrionic heroes. 
 
 Amid the splendours of his palace, gloomy 
 thoughts often came to him. Alexander the 
 Great and his triumphs would not let him rest. 
 " I come too late," he said regretfully to Decrbs. 
 ''There is no longer anything great to accom- 
 plish. I admit that my career is brilliant, that 
 I have made my way successfully. But what a 
 difference in comparison with antiquity 1 Take 
 Alexander ! After having conquered Asia, and 
 proclaimed himself to the people as the son of 
 Jupiter, with the exception of Olympias, who 
 knew what all this meant, and Aristotle, and a 
 few Athenian pedants, the entire Orient believed 
 him. . . . People nowadays know too 
 much. Nothing is left to do."
 
 THE EMPEROR 55 
 
 He, however, found an abundance of occu- 
 pations. 
 
 " I am always at work," he was wont to boast. 
 " I work at dinner, in the theatre. I wake up 
 at night to resume my work. I got up last 
 night at two o'clock to examine the army reports 
 sent me by the Minister of War. I found 
 twenty mistakes in them, made notes on them, 
 which I have this morning sent to the Minister." 
 
 " I have my reports on positions always on 
 hand," said he. " My memory for an Alex- 
 andrine line is not good, but I never forget a 
 syllable of my reports on positions." 
 
 There was a supercilious tone in some of his 
 letters, mingled with a diabolical sarcasm. 
 " Cousin, where did you discover," he asked 
 Cambaceres, " that Spain had entered the coal- 
 ition ? We are on the best of terms with Spain. 
 All her fortresses are in our hands." 
 
 Then, again, he assumed the tone of over- 
 bearing curtness. " My intention is," he wrote 
 to Mortier, •' that the house of Hesse cease 
 to reign, and be obUterated from among the 
 number of independent states." 
 
 " I make my intentions known to the Pope in 
 a few words," he wrote to Fesch. '* If he does 
 not acquiesce in my wishes, I shall reduce his
 
 56 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 authority to the condition in which it was before 
 the days of Charlemagne." 
 
 Napoleon thus often delivered his opinions 
 and orders in the bombastic periods of characflers 
 in Corneille and Voltaire. 
 
 *' I love power," he confessed to Roederer, 
 " but I love it as an artist. I love it as a mu- 
 sician loves his violin. I love it to draw from it 
 sounds, accords, and harmonies." 
 
 He improvised for hours at a stretch, like the 
 ragged improvisators in the market place of his 
 native Ajaccio. He had often an irresistable 
 flow of speech. Then, again, like Richelieu, he 
 acfted the connoisseur in dramatics, and, with 
 elaborate emphasis, attempted to direcft the 
 current of stage endeavour. Fontanes read 
 * Les Templiers ' of Raynouard, to the master, 
 who liked some portions of the piece and ob- 
 jecfled to others. The play was produced and 
 had some success. The Emperor still objecfted. 
 " It seems to me," he thereupon suggested to 
 Fouche, from Milan, " that the success of * Les 
 Templiers ' leads the people to dwell upon this 
 point of French history. That is well, but I do 
 not think it would be wise to allow pieces taken 
 from historical subjeifts of a period too close to 
 our own times to be acfled. I read in a news-
 
 THE EMPEROR 57 
 
 paper that it is proposed to a.61 a tragedy on the 
 subjecft of Henry IV. That epoch is near 
 enough to ours to arouse popular passions. The 
 stage requires antiquity, and, without restri(5ling 
 the theatre too much, I think you ought to pre- 
 vent this, but not to allow your interference to 
 appear. You might speak of it to M. Raynouard, 
 who seems to be a man of abihty. Why should 
 you not induce him to write a tragedy upon the 
 transition from the first to the second line ? 
 Instead of being a tyrant, he who should suc- 
 ceed would be the saviour of the nation. The 
 oratorio of ' Saul ' is no other than this ; it is a 
 great man succeeding a degenerate king." 
 
 Napoleon patronised the opera, and rewarded 
 such composers as appealed to him. He did 
 not fancy Cherubini, but he was much taken 
 with Spontini and with Paesiello. He decorated 
 Lesueur. He gave Gretry, the composer of 
 ' Richard Coeur de Lion,' a pension of four 
 thousand francs a year, and had his opera 
 played fifteen consecutive nights by imperia 
 command. 
 
 . He consulted Fouch^, his Minister of Police, 
 on the ' Don Juan ' of Mozart, before allowing 
 its produ(5lion. " I desire to know your mind 
 on this piece," he dicftated, " what you think of
 
 58 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 it from the point of view how it will affecfl 
 public opinion." 
 
 Even while abroad, Napoleon meddled in 
 the administration of theatrical affairs in the 
 capital. 
 
 " I charge you exclusively with surveillance 
 of the Opera till my return," he informed Cara- 
 baceres. " I do not wish to hear any more 
 about their troubles. Establish severe discip- 
 line and have authority respecfled." 
 
 He generally knew to a fracftion the amount 
 of the illicit gains of functionaries under him. 
 Ouvrard, a contracftor, made a wager that 
 Georges, the acftress, would sup with him 
 instead of keeping her known engagement to 
 sup, on a specified night, at the Tuileries. 
 He overcame her scruples by a bribe of two 
 hundred thousand francs and won his bet. 
 The day following, he was summoned before 
 the Emperor. 
 
 *' Monsieur Ouvrard," said he, " you have 
 gained five millions by your contracfts for the 
 army in Spain. You will pay two into the 
 imperial treasury without delay." 
 
 Thus Napoleon took his revenge. 
 
 He now and then occupied himself with the 
 ballet. " Several artists have fled from Paris
 
 THE EMPEROR 59 
 
 and-taken refuge in St. Petersburg," he notified 
 Caulaincourt. " I beg that you will ignore this 
 bad condu(ft. We have no lack of ballet girls 
 and atftresses in Paris." On one occasion he 
 remonstrated thus with Remusat. " You fur- 
 nish me with no report respecfting the adminis- 
 tration of the theatres, and you have new pieces 
 rehearsed without informing me. I learn that 
 the * Mort d'Abel ' and a ballet are being re- 
 hearsed. You should not have any new piece 
 rehearsed without my consent. Let me have a 
 report on this." About a month later, he again 
 instrucfled Remusat. " ' La Mort d'Abel ' should 
 be performed on the 20th March ; the ballet of 
 
 * Persee et Andromede ' on Easter Monday ; 
 
 * Les Bayaderes ' a fortnight afterwards ; ' So- 
 phocle ' and ' Armede ' during the summer ; 
 ' Les Danaides ' in the autumn ; ' Les Sabines ' 
 at the end of May. As a general rule, I wish 
 as many new pieces as possible in the month of 
 Easter, as there are a great many foreigners in 
 Paris for the fetes." 
 
 Napoleon sometimes met Andrieux at Jose- 
 phine's receptions. " Comedy," said he to the 
 playwright one day, " corredts no one. The 
 vices put on the stage are always so brilliant 
 that people rather imitate them than otherwise.
 
 6o napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 But you, you can do better things than write 
 comedies." Andrieux seems to have remembered 
 this dicftum on the ineffecfluahty of comedy to 
 reform mankind, for in his play, ' Le Vieux 
 Fat,' I find these verses v^hich put in rhyme 
 virhat had been said to him in prose. 
 
 " Souvent des jeunes fats on a fait le portrait : 
 Des graces que toujours sur le scene on leur donne 
 Font qu'on les a jou6s sans corriger personne ; 
 On trouve aimable en eux ce qui devrait choquer, 
 On va les applaudir au lieu de s'en moquer." 
 
 Talma had played in ' Britannicus ' at St. 
 Cloud. There had been much applause. After 
 the performance Napoleon spied Fontanes con- 
 versing with Chaptal in a retired corner of the 
 hall. He approached the pair. 
 
 "Well, Fontanes," said he, "I hope you are 
 satisfied with Talma." 
 
 " Sire, I have seen Lekain " 
 
 " There you are again," interrupted the Em- 
 peror. " Always praising the ancients." 
 
 " Sire," replied Fontanes, " I abandon Caesar 
 and Alexander to your Majesty, but, pray, leave 
 me Lekain." 
 
 Napoleon was ever fond of startling effetfts. 
 One evening, they tell us, while he was working 
 with Chaptal in his private cabinet, a servant
 
 THE EMPEROR 6 I 
 
 entered and announced Bourgoin, the acflress 
 of the Comedie-Fran9aise, with whom the 
 Minister was currently reported to be on the 
 best of terms. 
 
 The Emperor, who had beforehand arranged 
 this untoward meeting, asked the address to await 
 his pleasure, and revelled in the trouble he had 
 caused. 
 
 Chaptal, angry and nonplussed, brusquely thrust 
 his papers into his portfolio, and took his leave. 
 That same night he sent in his resignation. 
 
 Constant, the valet of Napoleon, is still another 
 authority who corroborates the master's predi- 
 lecflion for Corneille. 
 
 " I always saw on his table," says he, " a 
 volume of the works of that great poet. Very 
 often, while he walked up and down the room, 
 I heard the Emperor declaim verses from ' Cinna,' 
 or this tirade from ' La Mort de Cesar' : 
 
 ' Cesar, tu vas regner. Voici le jour auguste 
 Oil le peuple romain, pour toi toujours injuste — ' 
 
 " At the theatre in St. Cloud the evening's 
 entertainment consisted frequently only of shreds 
 and patches of plays. They chose the a.6i of one 
 opera for producStion, then the acft of another, a 
 procedure which was very provoking to the spec- 
 tators whom the first opera had perhaps begun
 
 62 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 to interest. They also often produced comedies. 
 The Emperor himself took much pleasure in these 
 performances. How often have I seen him hold 
 his sides with laughter while he witnessed Bap- 
 tiste, the younger, in ' Les H^ritiers.' Michaud, 
 in 'La Partie de Chasse de Henri IV.,' also 
 amused him." 
 
 Napoleon, however, was rarely interested in 
 farce or comedy. Thus, when the * Cinna ' of 
 Corneille was on the bill at the Fran9ais, fol- 
 lowed by the ' Brueys et Palaprat ' of Etienne, 
 he remained to listen to the tragedy, though the 
 temperature of the house was arcftic, but he left 
 before the farce was produced. His liaisons with 
 adlresses were confined to such women as could 
 portray the tragic passions. Laverd, of the 
 Theatre-Fran9ais, was the only comedienne 
 whom he was ever inclined to favour with his 
 attentions. Soubrettes, with their simpering 
 ways, he avoided. Ingenues, with their simu- 
 lated innocence, he shunned. 
 
 A(5lresses who were too far advanced in years 
 for their parts put him in ill humour. On one 
 occasion, when he gave a state performance of 
 the ' Cinna ' of Corneille for the benefit of some 
 princes and serene highnesses in Mayence, the 
 capable but mature Raucourt was assigned to
 
 THE EMPEROR 63 
 
 the winsome part of Emilie. The heroine was 
 to say, among other lines, this : 
 
 "Si j'ai seduit Cinna, j'en s6duirai bien d'autres." 
 
 The house smiled with polite irony at the faded 
 acftress's presumption. After the performance, 
 Napoleon summoned Remusat, and upbraided 
 him soundly for having brought ridicule on a fine 
 play by casting an old acftress for a juvenile part. 
 
 Talma was always welcome in the inner circle. 
 The tragedian was at the palace one day when a 
 fundtionary presented the petition of Lemercier, 
 the playwright, for certain sums due him from 
 the government as an indemnity for property 
 appropriated. The Emperor testily waved the 
 funcftionary aside. 
 
 " Do you not see that Talma is here and that 
 he expecfls to read me a play they are to produce 
 day after to-morrow ? Let him wait ! " 
 
 The adlor, knowing the financial stress in 
 which the playwright then lived, stepped for- 
 ward and said with that freedom which he 
 sometimes assumed — 
 
 " Sire, when we are hungry, we do not like 
 to wait. Lemercier has been deprived of all his 
 property. He is in distress. He ought to re- 
 ceive what is his due. That is most urerent."
 
 64 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 Napoleon cast a savage look at this volunteer 
 counsellor, and then, suddenly breaking into a 
 smile, said to Daru — 
 
 " Do you hear the arbitrary verdicft of Talma ? 
 Give me the report." 
 
 And he signed it. 
 
 He criticised plays and players in a bluff 
 and blunt fashion, generally with a strong per- 
 sonal and professional bias. Thus, after the 
 producflion of ' Tipoo Saib,' by De Jouy, he 
 said to Talma, speaking of one of the leading 
 characfters in the drama, " Raymond is a brave 
 fellow, but he talks too much. He gives advice, 
 instead of taking it. He discusses orders, instead 
 of obeying them. Doesn't he presume to save 
 the British Ambassador ? Why, if I had been 
 in the place of the Sultan, I would have had the 
 insolent fellow's head off with one. blow of my 
 sabre !" 
 
 Etienne, the playwright, who was a censor of 
 plays under the imperial regime, was himself 
 censured by the master censor. Napoleon took 
 umbrage at this line in ' L'Intrigante ' when 
 the play was produced at the Tuileries : 
 
 " Je suis sujet du prince et roi dans ma famille." 
 The line was promptly cut out.
 
 THE EMPEROR 65 
 
 He had, in a word, a soldier-politician's 
 likes and dislikes in matters dramatic. He suf- 
 fered * Belisaire,' by De Jouy, to be suppressed, 
 because the play recalled to the memory of the 
 public one of his generals then in exile. He 
 enthusiastically lauded ' Hecflor,' by Luce de 
 Lancival, because that play made him feel as 
 though he were in the thick of battle. 
 
 Napoleon met an obstinate opponent to 
 some of his pretensions in Pope Pius VH. 
 The Emperor, accordingly, had the Pontiff 
 brought from Rome to Fontainebleau, and 
 in the chateau at that place occurred the in- 
 terview vivified by the poetic art of Alfred 
 de Vigny. We are told that during that his- 
 toric meeting Napoleon raged and stormed as 
 he paced the polished floor, while Pius VH. 
 sat in a large, eagle-studded chair, attentive 
 and calm. Napoleon made promises, threats, 
 and boasts. Pius VH. simply answered with 
 one word — 
 
 " Commediante ! " 
 
 Napoleon overheard the word and was 
 furious. 
 
 " Comedian ! I, a comedian !" he exclaimed. 
 " Ah, I will give you comedies such as will make 
 you all cry like women and children ! Come- 
 
 F
 
 66 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 dian ! Ah, you are mistaken, if you think to 
 get the better of me by insolent coolness ! My 
 theatre is the world ! The part I play is that of 
 manager and author. As comedians I engage 
 all of you— popes, kings, peoples ! The thread 
 by which I move you is — fear ! Comedian ! Ah, 
 it would take a better man than you are to dare 
 to applaud or to hiss me ! " 
 
 Pius VII. moved uneasily in the chair for a 
 moment, and then he checked the soldier's torrent 
 of language with another word — 
 
 " Tragediante ! " 
 
 Napoleon sobered in an instant and continued 
 in more subdued tones. 
 
 " 'Tis very true. Tragedian or comedian ! 
 All is 3.<^mg — all has been costume with me for 
 a long time, and will be so for ever ! What 
 fatigue, what littleness ! Sitting, always sitting 
 in full face for this party, in profile for that, 
 according to their notions. . . . You see I 
 am open-hearted with you. I have plans for 
 the lives of forty emperors. I form one every 
 morning and another every night. Life is too 
 short to stand still." 
 
 He was fond of issuing army bulletins of an 
 anecdotic and colloquial nature. They were 
 printed in the ' Moniteur,' and some were re-
 
 THE EMPEROR 6/ 
 
 printed on loose sheets, and sold at low price, 
 and widely circulated. These bulletins, sent out 
 before or after a battle, recounted a few facfts more 
 or less distorted, and told homely and familiar 
 incidents in which Napoleon was made to appear 
 in the most favourable and heroic light. With 
 his wide knowledge of human nature he was 
 well aware that anecdotes are the small change 
 of history, circulating where such large bills as 
 pamphlets and books never penetrate. Hence 
 the bulletins, prompted, if not written by him, 
 form a noteworthy chapter in the literary history 
 of his period. 
 
 Wherever he was, he endeavoured to impress 
 the specftators of the stupendous drama in which 
 he was the chief facftor. 
 
 " Danzig has capitulated," he notified Clarke, 
 War Minister at Berlin, " and my troops have 
 entered the place. Publish this news in the 
 Berlin journals. Have a salute fired at Spandau, 
 and at other places. If you like, you can have a 
 * Te Deum ' sung. Give this capture the greatest 
 possible publicity." 
 
 He had the itch of notoriety. Edmund Kean 
 never scanned the papers more eagerly than 
 Napoleon perused the army reports. Talma 
 never read play-house feuilletons with more 
 
 F — 2
 
 68 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 attention than his imperial master watched 
 adverse critiques. 
 
 " A man called Bruguieres," he informed 
 Fouche, " has written a bad work entitled 
 * Napoleon en Prusse,' which people believe to 
 be acknowledged by the government. All the 
 sovereigns have sent him presents. Have this 
 work criticised as it deserves." 
 
 Napoleon generally wrote in a special style, 
 according to the person with whom he corre- 
 sponded. He exaggerated his thoughts often- 
 times in order to obtain results. Having one 
 day written a very sharp, harsh letter to Marshal 
 Baraguey d'Hilliers, he sent also the following 
 note to the Minister of War : " I vigorously 
 rebuked Baraguey d'Hilliers. He positively 
 deserved it. But I exaggerated in order to 
 startle him." 
 
 The master was eager to be seen and to be 
 talked about. He had the player's craze for 
 notice and comment. He knew that he had to 
 be always within the public gaze. 
 
 " In Paris," said he, "they do not remember 
 anything. If I remain a long time Avithout 
 doing something, I am lost. If they have not 
 seen me three times at the theatre, they would 
 have forgotten me."
 
 THE EAIPEROR 69 
 
 When Chenier wrote his plaj', ' Le Couronne- 
 ment de Cyrus,' he received preferment because 
 Napoleon was gratified by the imphed compH- 
 ment. When Chenier, repenting of his syco- 
 phancy, pubhshed his ' Epitre a Voltaire,' full 
 of sentiments like these : — 
 
 " Tout passe, tout s'eteint, les conqu^rants pcrissent, 
 Sur le front des heros les lauriers se fldtrissent. 
 
 Le pouvoir absolu s'efforcerait en vain 
 D'aneantir I'esprit ne d'un souffle divin, 
 
 Tacite, en traits de flamme, accuse nos S6jans, 
 Et son nom prononc6 fait palir les tyrans— " 
 
 Napoleon let Chenier know of his dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 He mixed in the cabals of opera singers and 
 insisted that there be peace behind the scenes. 
 " Everyone complains of the administration of 
 operatic affairs by M. de Lucay," he objecfted. 
 "If these imbroglios do not come to a stop, I 
 shall put a good military man in charge who 
 will see to it that matters march to the time of 
 the drum beat." 
 
 " I have read some very bad verses that were 
 sung at the Opera," he complained to Cham- 
 pagny, from Berlin. " Since when is it cus-
 
 yO NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 tomary to allow at the Opera what is allowed 
 at the Vaudeville ? I mean the introducftion of 
 impromptus. . . . Tell M. de Lucay that I 
 am much displeased, and do you forbid that 
 anything be sung at the Opera which is not 
 worthy of that great institution." 
 
 Napoleon is said to have been one of the 
 devotees of Mars, the acftress of the Comedie- 
 Fran9aise. I am inclined to think, however, 
 that his devotion to her has been much exag- 
 gerated. I accept the accounts of their amorous 
 meetings at Rambouillet with considerable scep- 
 ticism. They tell us that one day, at a review, 
 he perceived her in the throng and spurred his 
 horse towards the place where she stood. "Ah," 
 said he, good-naturedly, " I see you are returning 
 us the visits which we are so pleased to pay you 
 at the Fran9ais." 
 
 He patronised the drama as he patronised the 
 opera. He was by turns inquisitorial and indul- 
 gent, meddlesome and munificent. He bought 
 private boxes. He distributed prizes and deco- 
 rations. He paid acftors and a(5lresses liberally 
 out of his own purse and from the public ex- 
 chequer. Naturally he was provoked when the 
 results of all his largesses were mediocre or 
 futile. Discontented with the dramatists of his
 
 THE EMPEROR 7 I 
 
 own age, he invariably reverted to those of the 
 past. 
 
 " One day, after having witnessed a perfor- 
 mance of ' Cinna,' " remarks Bourrienne, " he 
 said to me, ' If a man Hke Corneille were living 
 in my time, I would make him my prime minis- 
 ter. It is not his poetry that I most admire, it 
 is his powerful understanding, his vast know- 
 ledge of the human heart and his profound 
 policy.' " 
 
 An insatiate reader while on his travels, 
 Napoleon complained, when at Warsaw, in 
 1807, and when at Bayonne, in 1808, that his 
 librarian at Paris did not keep him well sup- 
 plied with books. " The Emperor," wrote the 
 secretary to Barbier, "wants a portable library 
 of a thousand volumes in i2mo., printed in good 
 type without margin, and composed as nearly 
 as possible of forty volumes on religion, forty of 
 epics, forty of plays, sixty of poetry, a hundred 
 of novels, sixty of history, the remainder, to 
 make up the thousand, of historical memoirs. 
 
 " The religious works are to be the Old and 
 New Testament, the Koran, a selecflion of the 
 works of the Fathers of the Church, works 
 respe(fting the Aryans, Calvinists, of Mytho- 
 logy, &c.
 
 72 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 " The epics are to be Homer, Lucan, Tasso, 
 Telemachus, The Henriade, &c." 
 
 Machiavelli, Fielding, Richardson, Montes- 
 quieu, Voltaire, Corneille, Racine, and Rousseau 
 were also among the authors mentioned. 
 
 Napoleon was no bibliophile ; cared nothing 
 for finely bound and typographically perfe(5t 
 books. He preferred books with slight mar- 
 gins ; books that took up little room. He 
 flung pamphlets and novels out of the win- 
 dow of his carriage when he had finished with 
 them. He used books only for the information 
 which they gave him, and only presentation 
 copies of certain works were by him ordered to 
 be gorgeously bound and powdered with the 
 imperial bees. 
 
 Even fashions were, at times, suggested by 
 the autocrat. " I did not know," he wrote to 
 Savary, then at St. Petersburg, " that you were 
 so ' galant ' as you have become. All the fashions 
 for your pretty Russian ladies shall be forwarded. 
 I will pay the expense myself. You must pre- 
 sent them, saying that, having by chance opened 
 the dispatch in which you asked for them, I 
 wish to make the selection myself. You know 
 that I understand toilette very well. Talleyrand 
 will send a(5tors and adtresses to you."
 
 THE EMPEROR "] -^ 
 
 He dicflated the cut of plays, as he dicflated 
 the cut of garments. 
 
 After having seen a performance of the ' Aga- 
 memnon ' of Lemercier, he said to the author : 
 
 " Your piece is no good. By what right does 
 Strophus remonstrate with Clytemnestra ? He 
 is nothing but a valet." 
 
 " No, Sire," answered Lemercier, " he is not 
 a valet. He is a dethroned monarch, a friend of 
 Agamemnon." 
 
 •' You are not well versed in court matters," 
 ended the Emperor. " At court, the monarch 
 alone amounts to something. The others are 
 only valets." 
 
 Napoleon suppressed plays that alluded in the 
 most remote manner to his divorce. He estab- 
 Hshed a rigorous censorship and then lamented 
 that there was no literature. 
 
 He imperiously craved to have men about him 
 who would blazon his power and renown. He 
 thought that he could create playwrights as he 
 had created cardinals and marshals. " People 
 complain," he grumbled to Cambaceres, "that 
 we have no literature. 'Tis the fault of the 
 Minister of the Interior." 
 
 He imagined that he could order romances and 
 poems as he ordered war maps and field guns.
 
 74 napoleon's opera glass 
 
 One day, he met Saint-Pierre. " Monsieur Ber- 
 nardin," he asked, " when will you give us another 
 * Paul et Virginie ' or ' Chaumiere Indienne ' ? 
 You should give us one every six months." 
 
 He flattered, rewarded, and pensioned men of 
 letters, or he abused, persecuted, and humiliated 
 them. "You and M. de Fontanes, as State 
 Councillor and Grand Master, you I ought to 
 imprison in Vincennes," he said to Segur. " Tell 
 the second class of the Institute that I will have 
 no political subjedls treated at its meetings. . . . 
 If it disobeys, I will break it up as a club that is 
 a nuisance." 
 
 When in a milder and more equable mood, 
 he counselled his brother Joseph, then King of 
 Naples, thus — 
 
 " You live too much with literary and with 
 scientific men. They are like coquettes, with 
 whom one should keep up an intercourse of 
 gallantry, but of whom one should never dream 
 of making a wife or a minister." 
 
 In every department the same arbitrary will 
 was manifest. 
 
 " Spread the following reports in an official 
 manner," he instrudled Fouch^. " They are, 
 however, true. Spread them, first, in the salons, 
 and then put them in the papers."
 
 THE EMPEROR 75 
 
 " I send you my approval relative to the 
 expense of the scenery and the ballet of the 
 ' Return of Ulysses,' " he further notified Fouche. 
 *' Have a detailed report made of this ballet, and 
 see the first representation, so as to make sure 
 there is nothing bad in it ; you understand in 
 what sense. The subjecft appears to me fine ; 
 it was I who gave it to Gardel." 
 
 Meanwhile, at home and abroad, in spite of 
 stricfl surveillance, he was pestered by imperti- 
 nent pasquinaders. 
 
 Arndt, Gentz, Kotzebue, Treitschke, the pam- 
 phleteers of Germany who aimed their poisoned 
 shafts at him and strove to arouse their apathetic 
 countrymen against his government, were espe- 
 cially obnoxious in his eyes. " Cousin," he wrote 
 to Berthier, " I suppose you have had the book- 
 sellers of Augsburg and Nuremburg arrested. It 
 is my intention that they be taken before a mili- 
 tary tribunal and shot within twenty-four hours." 
 
 Napoleon was at one time well-nigh onmipo- 
 tent. He centralized power in Paris, and had 
 his power respecfted in most of the capitals of 
 Europe. Francis of Austria found it prudent 
 to bestow his daughter upon him in marriage. 
 Alexander of Russia accepted his invitation to 
 a conference at Erfurt. The small town was
 
 "]() napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 thronged with princely notabilities. Talma and 
 Duchesnois, and a contingent of players from 
 the Comedie-Fran9aise, were summoned to the 
 imperial rendezvous, and at extraordinary theatre 
 parties interpreted classic plays to blue-blooded 
 auditors. 
 
 " I will give you a fine parterre of kings," 
 proudly said Napoleon to Talma. 
 
 They produced ' Cinna,' ' Andromaque,' ' Bri- 
 tannicus,' 'Zaire,' 'Oedipe,' ' Mithridate,' 'Iphi- 
 genie,' ' Phedre,' ' Mahomet,' ' Manlius,' * Ba- 
 jazet,' ' La Mort de Cesar,' ' Rodogune,' and 
 *Le Cid.' 
 
 A strong guard of grenadiers was posted at 
 the entrance of the theatre. On the arrival of 
 an emperor, the drums beat thrice ; on the arrival 
 of a king they beat twice. On one occasion, the 
 sentinel, deceived by the outside of the King of 
 Wurtemberg's carriage, ordered the triple salute 
 to be given, on which the officer in command, in 
 an angry tone, cried out, " Hold on there ! It's 
 only a king!" 
 
 ** The choice of the pieces for those plays at 
 Erfurt," says Talleyrand, " had been made with 
 great care and art, the subjedls having been 
 taken from heroic times or great historical 
 events. Napoleon's idea in causing heroic times
 
 THE EMPEROR ']'] 
 
 to appear on the stage was to mislead all that 
 German nobility in the midst of which he was, 
 and to carry them away by imagination into 
 other regions. ... In pieces drawn from 
 history, the representation of which he ordered, 
 the policy of some chief chara(51:er always recalled 
 some circumstances analogous to those which 
 occurred daily since he himself had appeared on 
 the stage of the world ; and all that became the 
 subjecft of flattering allusions. The hatred of 
 Mithridates against the Romans called to mind 
 Napoleon's hatred against England, and after 
 hearing the following verses : — 
 
 ' Ne vous figurez pas que de cette contree, 
 Par d'eternels remparts, Rome soit separ6e, 
 Je sais tous les chemins par oil je dois passer, 
 Et si la mort bientot ne vient me traverser ' — 
 
 Everybody whispered, ' Yes, he knows all the 
 roads to success ; yes, it must be borne in mind 
 he knows them all.' 
 
 " The ideas of immortality, glory, undaunted 
 bravery, and fatality which in ' Iphigenie ' recur 
 constantly, either as the chief idea or as acces- 
 sory, served the purpose of his main thought, 
 which was to arouse unceasing admiration in all 
 who approached him. Talma had received orders 
 to deliver slowly the following fine passage :
 
 78 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 ' L'honneur pnrle, il suffit, ce sont la nos oracles, 
 Les dieux sont de nos jours les maitres soiiverains, 
 Mais, Seigneur, notre gloire est dans nos propres mains. 
 Pourquoi nous tnurmenter de leurs ordres supremes? 
 Ne songeons qu'A nous rendre immortels comme eux-memes, 
 Et laissant faire au sort, courons oil la valeur 
 Nous promet du destin aussi grand que le leur.' 
 
 " But the play of Napoleon's choice, that which 
 
 indicated best the causes and the source of his 
 
 power, was ' Mahomet,' because during the whole 
 
 performance it seemed to him that he was the 
 
 chief characfter. From the beginning of the first 
 
 a6t . . . the eyes of all present were riveted 
 
 on him, they Hstened to the acflors, but could not 
 
 help looking at him. . . . Every German 
 
 prince must naturally have applied to himself 
 
 the following verses uttered by Lafont in a 
 
 dismal tone : 
 
 ' Vois I'empire romain tombant de toutes parts, 
 Ce grand corps dechir^ dont les membres 6pars 
 Languissent disperses, sans honneur et sans vie ! 
 Sur ces debris du monde ^levons I'Arabie. 
 II faut un nouveau culte, il faut de nouveaux fers, 
 II faut un nouveau Dieu pour I'aveugle univers ! ' 
 
 " At this point, respedl only prevented the 
 audience from demonstrating their approval ; 
 the applause almost broke forth at the follow- 
 ing verse : 
 
 ' Qui la fait roi ? Qui la couronn^ ? La Victoire ! ' "
 
 THE EMPEROR 79 
 
 During the fetes at Erfurt, in 1808, Napoleon 
 first met Goethe. Chancellor Von Mueller fur- 
 nishes this version of the interview between 
 them. 
 
 Napoleon was at breakfast, Talleyrand and 
 Daru standing by his side, Berthier and Savary 
 behind. Napoleon looked at the poet fixedly, 
 and then said : 
 
 " Vous etes un homme." 
 
 Then Napoleon asked Goethe his age. 
 
 •' Sixty." 
 
 " You are well preserved. I hear you have 
 written tragedies." 
 
 Daru here interposed and said that Goethe 
 had translated the ' Mahomet ' of Voltaire. 
 
 " It is not a good piece," said Napoleon. 
 
 They discussed ' Werther,' and the Emperor 
 found fault with some parts of the novel, but 
 soon resumed discussing the drama. 
 
 Goethe later remarked that he criticised like 
 a man who had studied the tragic stage with 
 the attention of a criminal judge. He disap- 
 proved of all pieces in which fate played a 
 part. 
 
 " These pieces," said he, '* belong to the dark 
 ages. Besides, what do they mean by fate ? 
 Politics, that's what I call fate."
 
 8o napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 At a second interview Napoleon touched on 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 " Je suis etonne qu'un grand dsprit comme vous 
 n'aime pas les genres tranches," said the Emperor 
 to the poet. 
 
 " Tragedy should be the school of kings and 
 people. That is the highest mission which the 
 poet can have. You, for instance, you ought to 
 write on the death of Caesar. You could do it 
 in a grander way than Voltaire did it. It would 
 be the finest task of your life to show the world 
 how Caesar would have benefited humanity, how 
 everything would have been different if they had 
 only allowed him to put his lofty plans into 
 execution. I must insist that you come to Paris. 
 There you will obtain a wider view of men and 
 things." 
 
 Talleyrand gives this account of the meeting 
 between these two men. 
 
 " Monsieur Goethe, I am delighted to see 
 you." 
 
 " Sire, I see that, when your Majesty travels, 
 you do not negle(51: to notice even the most 
 insignificant persons." 
 
 " I know you are Germany's first dramatic 
 poet." 
 
 " Sire, you wrong our country. We are under
 
 THE EMPEROR 61 
 
 the impression we have our great men. Schiller, 
 Lessing, and Wieland are surely known to your 
 Majesty." 
 
 " I confess I hardly know them. However, I 
 have read ' La Guerre de Trente Ans,' and that, 
 I beg your pardon, seemed to me to furnish 
 dramatic subjecfts only worthy of our boule- 
 vards." 
 
 *' Sire, I do not know your boulevards, but I 
 suppose that popular plays are given there. I 
 am sorry to hear you judge so severely one of 
 the greatest geniuses of modern times." 
 
 " I should be delighted to see Monsieur Wie- 
 land." 
 
 " If your Majesty will allow me to ask him, I 
 feel certain that he will come here directly." 
 
 " Does he speak French ? " 
 
 " He knows it, and has correcfled several 
 French translations of his works." 
 
 "While you are here, you must go every 
 night to our plays. It will not do you any 
 harm to see good French tragedies." 
 
 " I will go willingly. I must confess to your 
 Majesty that it was my intention, for I have trans- 
 lated, or rather imitated, some French pieces." 
 
 "Which ones?" 
 
 G
 
 82 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 " * Mahomet ' and ' Tancrede.'" 
 
 " I shall ask Remusat if he has any acTtors 
 here to play them. I should be very glad for 
 you to see them represented in our language. 
 You are not as stricft as we are in theatrical 
 rules."' 
 
 " Sire, unity with us is not so essential." 
 
 " How do you find our sojourn here ?" 
 
 " Very brilliant, Sire, and I hope it will be 
 useful to our country." 
 
 " Are your people happy ? " 
 
 " They hope to be so soon." 
 
 " Monsieur Goethe, you ought to remain with 
 us during the whole of our stay, and write your 
 impressions of the grand sight we are offering." 
 
 " Ah, Sire, it would require the pen of some 
 great writer of antiquity to undertake such a 
 task." 
 
 " Are you an admirer of Tacitus ? " 
 
 "Yes, Sire, I admire him very much." 
 
 " Well, I don't. But we shall talk of that 
 another time. Write and tell Monsieur Wie- 
 land to come here. . . . Have you already 
 seen the Czar ? " 
 
 " No, Sire, never ; but I hope to be introduced 
 to him." 
 
 " He speaks your language. Should you write
 
 THE EMPEROR 83 
 
 anything on the Erfurt interview you must dedi- 
 cate it to him." 
 
 " Sire, it is not my habit to do so. When I 
 first commenced to write, I made it a principle 
 never to dedicate anything to anyone, in order 
 that I should never repent it." 
 
 " The great writers of Louis XIV. time were 
 not of your opinion." 
 
 " But your Majesty cannot be sure that they 
 never repented doing what they did." 
 
 " What has become of the scoundrel, Kotze- 
 bue ?" 
 
 " Sire, they say that he is in Siberia, and that 
 your Majesty will solicit his pardon from the 
 Czar." 
 
 " But he is not the man for me." 
 " Sire, he has been very unfortunate, and is a 
 man of great talent." 
 
 " Good-bye, Monsieur Goethe." 
 I have heard Napoleon compared with Machia- 
 velli. He certainly played his august guests in 
 the theatre at Weimar a trick worthy of that 
 astute statesman. One night, and one night 
 only, he had his troupe perform ' La Mort de 
 Cesar,' and he watched, through that opera- 
 glass of his, the faces of the audience as it 
 listened to this drama ena(5ted by Talma. The 
 
 G — 2
 
 84 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 Emperor surmised that there was not one among 
 those guests who did not in his heart wish the 
 death of the host who had huraihated them all. 
 The great conqueror of modern times took a 
 sardonic delight in forcing his enemies to witness 
 on the mimic stage the assassination of the great 
 conqueror of antiquity. 
 
 Napoleon fought women with the same relent- 
 less pertinacity that he fought men, if the women 
 dared to potter in politics. 
 
 He stopped at no meannesses to encompass 
 his ends, personal or political. He would go 
 out of his way to whisper innuendoes and blast 
 reputations. Thus he spread the bulletins pro- 
 pagating the scandalous rumours of intimacy 
 between Alexander of Russia and Luisa of 
 Prussia. Thus, when Alexander became en- 
 thralled by Bourgoin, the acflress, at Erfurt, 
 he is said to have discouraged him. 
 
 " I would not advise you," said he, " to make 
 her any advances." 
 
 " You believe that she would decline ? " 
 
 *' Not that, but to-morrow is mail day, and in 
 five days all Paris would be informed of your 
 
 Majesty's physical graces. Besides, — your 
 health interests me. . . . Therefore I hope 
 you will be able to resist temptation."
 
 THE EMPEROR 85 
 
 I have said that Napoleon was an a(5lor. His 
 behaviour at the meeting with Pope Pius VII. 
 at Fontainebleau and his bearing at the nuptials 
 with Marie Louise at Notre Dame amply illus- 
 trate this view of his charadler. His magnan- 
 imity to Countess Hatzfeld, flinging into the 
 fire the papers incriminating her husband, also 
 savours of the melodramatic. But there are 
 other proofs, and the most convincing are to 
 be found in his correspondence. When Poland 
 expedled him to champion her cause, he made 
 a double play, one in the lobby and another 
 behind the footlights. He had two modes of 
 speech — one cold, hard, and matter-of-facft ; the 
 other grandiloquent, sentimental, and rhetorical. 
 
 When he was behind the scenes, he wrote thus 
 bluntly to Fouche. 
 
 "The letter which you have sent me written 
 by Kosciuszko to his compatriots is ridiculous : 
 it is only an amplification of rhetoric. . . . 
 If Kosciuszko wants to come, well and good. If 
 not, he can stay away." 
 
 When before the public. Napoleon issued this 
 bulletin. "It is difficult to describe the enthusiasm 
 of the Poles. Our entrance into this great city 
 of \\'arsaw was a triumph, and the sentiments 
 which the Poles of all classes manifest since our
 
 86 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 arrival cannot be expressed in words. . . 
 The throne of Poland, will it rise from its ashes ? 
 And this great nation, will it take its place again 
 as an independent power ? From the depths of 
 the tomb will it come to life ? God alone, who 
 holds in His hands the combination of all events, 
 is the arbiter of this mighty political problem." 
 
 When behind the scenes again, on the very 
 next day, Napoleon removed the grease paint 
 and cast away the wig of the liberator, and wrote 
 to Murat thus : — 
 
 " I received your letter of the 29th November, 
 eleven o'clock at night. The Poles, who are so 
 circumspe(5l, ask so many guarantees before de- 
 claring themselves, are egotists whom the love 
 of country does not fire. I am old in my know- 
 ledge of men. My greatness is not based on 
 my alliance with a few thousand Poles." 
 
 Abbe de Pradt gives an apparently reliable 
 account of Napoleon when he heard of the rout of 
 his army in Russia. The Emperor stalked about 
 and railed like a tragedian who had failed to 
 score. He was violent and incoherent. " From 
 the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a 
 step," he cried. " Dangers, not at all ! I live 
 on excitement ! The more trouble, the better 
 I feel ! Only good-for-nothing kings grow fat
 
 THE EMPEROR 87 
 
 in their palaces. I thrive on horseback and in 
 the camp. Bah, my army is superb ! I have 
 a hundred thousand men. I have always beaten 
 the Russians. They don't dare face us ! They 
 are no longer the soldiers of Friedland and 
 Eylau. I'll face them at Wilna. I shall look for 
 three hundred thousand men. I've been in trou- 
 ble before. At Marengo I was beaten up to six in 
 the evening. The next day I was master of Italy ! " 
 Broglie reinforces De Pradt's version of Na- 
 poleon's histrionism by this hint given in the 
 description of the scene which transpired when 
 the master had learned of the Pope's resistance 
 to him. " The Emperor came into the hall at 
 the usual hour. I will not say that his face 
 was severe. I will say rather that he wore on 
 his face the mask of severity. Everything was 
 a(5ted in the scene which he prepared." 
 
 Talma always appeared most deferential when 
 favoured with the views of Napoleon on stage- 
 craft. Here is another extra(5l from one of their 
 reported conversations : 
 
 " You show too plainly that Nero is a despot," 
 said Napoleon. " You show it the moment you 
 come on the stage. According to Racine's in- 
 tention, as indicated in the opening scenes of 
 the piece, Nero must not appear cruel. It is
 
 88 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 only when he is crossed in love and becomes 
 jealous that his violent characfter is entirely de- 
 veloped. You ought, therefore, to keep all the 
 strength of expression for the last adls." 
 
 Napoleon also criticised adversely Talma's 
 impersonation of Cassar in ' La Mort de 
 Pompee,' for he is reported to have said : 
 
 " You do not grasp your part. You seem 
 convinced when you pronounce the verse : 
 * Pour moi qui tiens le tr6ne 6gal k I'infamie.' 
 
 *' Caesar did not believe a word of what he 
 said. He only spoke that way because he was 
 surrounded by Romans, whom it was necessary 
 to persuade that he had a horror of the throne. 
 But he was himself far from believing that the 
 throne, which was already the objedl: of his full 
 ambition, was such a detestable thing. You 
 must not make him talk as though he meant 
 what he said." 
 
 Talma took the hint and played the part as 
 the imperial critic had suggested. " That's well 
 done," said the master, after the performance, 
 " I recognise Caesar." 
 
 Napoleon, meanwhile, was struggling with 
 defeat and disaster. His mind, however, was 
 clear. His resolve was high. His energy was 
 indomitable. I need hardly chronicle the facfl
 
 THE EMPEROR 89 
 
 that he promulgated from Moscow, in 181 2, in 
 the hours of adversity, the notable decree which 
 fixed on its present generous basis the Comedie- 
 Fran9aise. 
 
 Villemain reports that Napoleon and Nar- 
 bonne discussed the drama amid the semi-bar- 
 baric magnificence of the palace of the Czars. 
 " You, my dear Narbonne," said the Emperor, 
 walking with long strides up and down the 
 waxed parquet, " I am certain you liked the 
 theatre when you were young, and I suppose 
 you were a great connoisseur. It is true, I 
 believe, you cared only for comedy, refined 
 drawing-room comedy, Celimene, Mademoiselle 
 Contat." 
 
 At the name of the acftress, thus rapidly in- 
 terjecfted. Napoleon smiled. Then he continued 
 gravely : 
 
 '* I love, above all, tragedy — lofty and sublime 
 tragedy as Corneille represents it. Great men 
 are more truthfully depidlied in tragedy than in 
 history. . . . You always see them at the crises 
 which bring out their qualities. ... I am 
 thankful to tragedy for thus placing certain men 
 on pedestals. ... I would have wished that 
 our poets could have done this for modern 
 heroes. . . . What are the poets of my time
 
 90 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 thinking about ? Chdnier puts me out of pa- 
 tience with his ' Cambyse.' ... I do not bar, 
 in this department, even foreign themes. What 
 a tragedy, for instance, a man of talent could 
 have built around that figure of granite, Peter 
 the Great ! " 
 
 Napoleon fell more and more into the habit 
 of speaking like a tragic acftor. 
 
 " I continue my military dispositions in Spain," 
 he advised Talleyrand. " This tragedy, if I am 
 not mistaken, is at its fifth adt. The denoue- 
 ment is in sight." 
 
 " I have but one passion," he said, with 
 ecstatic exultation, to Roederer, " one mistress, 
 and that is France. I sleep with her. She has 
 never been false to me. She lavishes her blood, 
 her treasures on me. If I need five hundred 
 thousand men, she gives them to me." 
 
 David, Gros, Gerard, Guerin, Isabey, Vernet, 
 the eminent artists of his time, found in him a 
 fertile subjecft for their brushes and their pencils. 
 
 •' David, I salute you," said Napoleon to the 
 painter one day, raising his hat. 
 
 He attitudinised superbly. 
 
 His discourses to the army were made soul- 
 stirring. He had them carefully prepared. On 
 one occasion he suspecfted that his men were
 
 THE EMPEROR 9 I 
 
 wavering on the eve of battle. He turned to 
 Rapp and exclaimed, " I must rouse them." 
 Then he didliated this : " Soldiers, it is a year 
 this very hour since you were on the field of 
 Austerlitz, where the Russians fled in disorder 
 or surrendered up their arms to their conquerors. 
 You have braved all, surmounted all ; every 
 obstacle has fled at your approach. The Rus- 
 sians have in vain endeavoured to defend the 
 capital of ancient and illustrious Poland. The 
 French eagle hovers over the Vistula. . . . 
 Soldiers, we will not lay down our arms until 
 a general peace has secured the power of our 
 allies and has restored to us our colonies and 
 our freedom of trade. Why should the Russians 
 have the right of opposing destiny, and thwart- 
 ing our just designs ? They and we are still the 
 soldiers of Austerlitz ! " 
 
 When he dicftated one of these dithyrambic mani- 
 festoes, he was as one inspired. His eyes blazed. 
 His words came fast. When he read over what 
 the secretary had written, he smiled triumphantly 
 at the effecl which he expe(5led that a particular 
 phrase would produce. He always resorted to 
 pronunciamientos, as we have seen, before he 
 entered upon important engagements. Here is 
 the one which Napoleon sent forth prior to
 
 92 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Waterloo, the sonorous battle cry of a desperate 
 man: 
 
 "Soldiers! This day is the anniversary of 
 Marengo and Friedland, which twice decided the 
 destiny of Europe. Then, as after the battles of 
 Austeriitz and Wagram, we were too generous. 
 We believed in the protestations and oaths of 
 princes to whom we left their thrones. Now, 
 however, leagued together, they strike at the 
 independence and sacred rights of France. 
 They have committed unjust aggressions. Let 
 us march forward and meet them ! Are we not 
 still the same men ? Soldiers, at Jena, these 
 Prussians, now so arrogant, were three to one! 
 At Montmirail, six to one ! . . . Madmen ! 
 One moment of prosperity has turned their 
 heads ! To oppress and humiliate the people 
 of France is out of their power. Once entering 
 our territory, they will find their doom. Soldiers, 
 we have forced marches before us, battles to 
 fight, and dangers to encounter. But, firm in 
 resolution, vi(rtory will be ours ! The honour 
 and happiness of our country are at stake ! In 
 short, Frenchmen, the hour has arrived when 
 we must conquer or die I "
 
 The Exile
 
 V. 
 
 THE EXILE 
 
 Napoleon, brought to bay and beaten by his 
 united foes, an exile at St. Helena, was almost 
 as precise and puncftilious there as he had been at 
 the Malmaison and the Tuileries. He estabhshed 
 a court in that circumscribed domain and ruled 
 over it with a brave show of assurance. He was 
 gay and depressed, by turns ; he was peevish and 
 philosophical. He read, wrote, chatted, rode, and 
 walked. Most frequently he didtated his me- 
 moirs and opinions to such companions of his 
 solitude as Gourgaud, Montholon, and Las 
 Cases. Often he launched pugnacious para- 
 doxes. Looking with longing eyes over the 
 vast waste of ocean, the illustrious commander 
 now had leisure to realise how evanescent is the 
 gold-red glow of human grandeur. 
 
 I find many allusions by him to plays and 
 players while he languished under those tropical
 
 96 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 skies. He did not resign his opera-glass when 
 he resigned his sceptre. 
 
 " After dinner," says Las Cases, *' we resumed 
 our readings. The Emperor read the ' Agamem- 
 non ' of aEschylus, which he very much admired 
 for its great force and simpHcity. We were par- 
 ticularly struck with the graduation of terror 
 which characfterises the producftions of the father 
 of tragedy. It was observed that this was the 
 first spark to which the light of the modern 
 drama may be traced. ' Agamemnon ' being 
 ended, the Emperor asked for the ' CEdipus ' of 
 Sophocles, which also interested us exceedingly ; 
 and the Emperor expressed his regret at not 
 having had it performed at St. Cloud. Talma had 
 always opposed the idea, but the Emperor was 
 sorry that he had relinquished it. ' Not,' said he, 
 • that I wished to correcft our drama by antique 
 models. Heaven forbid ! But I merely wished 
 to have an opportunity of judging how far 
 ancient compositions would have harmonised 
 with modern notions.' " 
 
 Classicist by education, Napoleon believed in 
 the dramatic rules laid down by Aristotle. Hence 
 he never understood Shakespeare and always dis- 
 paraged him. He at times assumed a professorial 
 tone, as when, for instance, he pointed out that
 
 THE EXILE 97 
 
 Seneca, in his play * Medea,' had prophesied the 
 discovery of America. 
 
 " Venient annis secula seris, 
 Quibus Oceanus vincula rerum 
 Laxet, et ingens pateat tellus, 
 Tethysque novus deteget orbes. 
 Nee sit terris ultima Thule." 
 
 Napoleon often thought of the strong person- 
 aHty of Talma. He told Las Cases one day 
 that he would have decorated the acftor, had 
 he not feared an outcry on the part of popular 
 prejudice. 
 
 The Emperor met the a(5lor several times, it 
 will be remembered, after his first exile, and at 
 one of these meetings the following conversation 
 is said to have taken place. 
 
 " So, Talma, Chateaubriand says that you gave 
 me lessons how to acft the imperator. Well, I 
 take his hint as a comphment, for it shows that 
 I must at least have played my part well." 
 
 The time passed with little variety of inter- 
 ruption. Napoleon still displayed the histrionic 
 side of his nature, still delighted in histrionic 
 phrases. One day, his usual task being done, 
 he strolled out towards the town, until he came 
 within sight of the road and shipping. On his 
 return, he met Mrs. Balcombe and Mrs. Stuart, 
 
 H
 
 98 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 who was on her way back Irom Bombay to 
 England. The Emperor conversed with her on 
 the manners and customs of England, and on 
 the inconveniences of a long voyage at sea, par- 
 ticularly to the ladies. He alluded to Scotland, 
 Mrs. Stuart's native country, expatiated on the 
 genius of Ossian, and congratulated his fair inter- 
 locutor on the preservation of her clear, northern 
 complexion. While the parties were thus en- 
 gaged, some heavily burdened slaves passed near 
 to them. Mrs. Balcombe motioned them to 
 make a detour ; but the Emperor interposed, 
 exclaiming, " Respecft the burden, Madame !" 
 
 Antommarchi, the physician, tells us what 
 happened while Napoleon was shaving himself 
 one morning. He was in his shirt, his head 
 uncovered, with two valecs at his side, one 
 holding the glass and a towel, the other the 
 rest of the apparatus. The Emperor spread 
 the soap over one side of his face, put down 
 the brush, wiped his hands and mouth, took 
 a razor dipped in hot water and shaved the 
 right side with singular dexterity. 
 
 " Is it done, Noverraz ?" 
 
 "Yes, Sire." 
 
 " Well, then, face about. Come, villain, quick. 
 Stand still."
 
 THE EXILE 99 
 
 The light fell on the left side, which, after 
 applying the lather, he shaved in the same 
 manner and with the same dexterity. He drew 
 his hand over his chin. 
 
 " Raise the glass. Am I quite right ? " 
 
 " Quite so, Sire." 
 
 " Not a hair has escaped me. What say 
 you ?" 
 
 " No, Sire," replied the valet de chambre. 
 
 " No ! I think I perceive a hair. Lift up the 
 glass, place it in a better light. How, rascal ! 
 Flattery ! You deceive me at St. Helena ? On 
 this rock ? You, too, are an accomplice." 
 
 With this, he gave them both a box on the 
 ear, laughed and joked in his most pleasant 
 manner. 
 
 Baron Stiirmer, the diplomatic representative 
 of Austria in St. Helena, wrote thus to Metter- 
 nich, giving a graphic contemporary sketch of 
 some of the doings of the prisoner. '* In his 
 leisure hours he amuses himself by declaiming 
 before his French friends, who listen to him 
 with rapture. He often indulges in this recrea- 
 tion after his meals, which, in this manner, are 
 protra(5led far into the night. He most affedts 
 the role of Nero in ' Britannicus,' and that of 
 Augustus in ' Cinna.' He assumes, while thus 
 
 H — 2
 
 lOO NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 declaiming, the tone and poses of Talma, whom 
 he likes to imitate." 
 
 Of all his enemies, Napoleon, while in exile, 
 hated Talleyrand with the bitterest hatred. I 
 explain this by the facft that they were both 
 acftors. During years collaborators in the comedy- 
 melodrama of statecraft, Napoleon and Talley- 
 rand had never trusted or loved each other. As 
 long as their interests merged, the soldier and 
 the diplomat played their respecflive parts in 
 the same play without much apparent fridtion. 
 Talleyrand bowed courteously in public, while 
 Napoleon took his curtain calls, but behind the 
 scenes he bombarded him with venomous bon- 
 mots. During years there was this polite truce. 
 When the diplomat finally perceived that the 
 end of the play was near, and that the soldier 
 was losing his hold upon his audiences, he 
 joined the chorus of his enemies in pit, balcony, 
 and orchestra, and acclaimed the new master. 
 N apoleon neither forgot nor forgave this treachery. 
 As much as in his day of greatest glory he lived 
 and dreamed, while in banishment, under the 
 glamour of the stage world. 
 
 " To which theatre shall we go to-night ? " he 
 asked jocularly, at dessert, on one occasion. 
 " Shall we hear Talma or Fleury ? "
 
 THE EXILE lOI 
 
 Lord Holland records that he frequently fell 
 asleep while they read aloud to him, but that he 
 was most observant of others who slept while he 
 was reading. 
 
 " Madame Montholon, you are asleep," was a 
 frequent ejaculation of his. 
 
 Napoleon, according to Madame de Remusat, 
 was never particularly partial to Moliere. He 
 now objecfled to one of his most famous plays 
 on moral grounds. 
 
 " The whole of * Tartufe,'" he remarked, " is 
 unquestionably finished with the hand of a 
 master; it is one of the chefs-d'oeuvre of an 
 inimitable writer. This piece is, however, 
 marked with such a characfter that I am not 
 at all surprised that its appearance should have 
 been the subjecft of interesting negotiations at 
 Versailles and of a great deal of hesitation on 
 the part of Louis XIV. If I have a right to be 
 astonished at anything, it is at his allowing it to 
 be performed. It holds out, in my mind, devo- 
 tion under such odious colours ; a certain scene 
 presents so decisive a situation, so completely 
 mdecent, that, for my own part, I do not hesi- 
 tate to say, if the comedy had been written in 
 my time, I would not have allowed it to be 
 represented."
 
 I02 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Official censors of works of literature or of 
 works of art are always more or less amusing 
 in their efforts to be conventionally conscientious, 
 but when Napoleon attempted to play the part 
 of a moral dicflator he became almost grotesque 
 in his blundering awkwardness. 
 
 Neither time nor exile eradicated from his 
 heart his tremendous egotism. He infused the 
 secretaries, who wrote his bulletins and his 
 letters, with that egotism. They became the 
 most expert press agents a gifted player ever 
 had in his employ. They caught his manner. 
 They attributed pithy salHes to him. Gradually 
 and unconsciously, like many another stage star, 
 Napoleon came to believe that he had said and 
 written what he had perhaps only inspired and 
 signed. 
 
 Impatient of rhetoric in others, he was himself 
 a cunning dealer in phrases. He read or heard 
 the classic dramatists so often that he echoed 
 their academic cadence and their high-sounding 
 heroics. His proclamations often were more 
 redolent of the oil of the student lamp than of 
 the powder of the battle-field. 
 
 " Soldiers ! In my exile I have heard your 
 voice. I have come back in spite of all obstacles 
 and aU dangers. Your general, called to the
 
 THE EXILE 103 
 
 throne by the choice of the people, and raised 
 on your shields, is restored to you. Come and 
 join him ! Mount the tri-coloured cockade ! You 
 wore it in the days of our greatness. We must 
 forget that we have been the masters of nations ; 
 but we must not suffer any to intermeddle in our 
 affairs. Who would pretend to be master over 
 us ? Who would have the power ? Resume 
 those eagles which you had at Ulm, at Auster- 
 litz, at Jena, at Eylau, at Wagram, at Friedland, 
 at Tudela, at Eckmuhl, at Essling, at Smolensko, 
 at the Moscowa, at Lutzen, at Wurtzen, at Mont- 
 mirail ! The veterans of the Sambre and Meuse, 
 of the Rhine, of Italy, of Egypt, of the West, of 
 the Grand Army, are humiliated ; their honour- 
 able scars are despised ; their successes would 
 be crimes ; the brave would be rebels if, as the 
 enemies of the people pretend, the legitimate 
 sovereigns were in the midst of the foreign 
 armies. Honours, recompenses, favours are alone 
 reserved to those who have served with them 
 against the country and against us. Soldiers ! 
 Come and range yourselves under the banners 
 of your chief ! His existence is only made up 
 of yours ; his rights are only those of the people 
 and yours ; his interest, his honour, his glory are 
 no other than your interest, your honour, and
 
 I04 NAPOLEON S OPERA-GLASS 
 
 your glory. Vi(5lory shall march at a charging 
 step ; the eagle with the national colours shall 
 fly from steeple to steeple till it reaches the 
 towers of Notre Dame I " 
 
 Napoleon, in banishment, expressed admiration 
 of * Le Mariage de Figaro,' by Beaumarchais, 
 though he did not care for the man who wrote it. 
 He spoke slightingly of ' Le Pere de Famille,' 
 by Diderot, of ' Melanie,' by La Harpe, and of 
 
 * Turcaret,' by Le Sage. Arnault, author of 
 
 • Marius/ remained a favourite of his to the 
 end, and he left him one hundred thousand 
 francs in his will. 
 
 " He liked reading and conversatioa » . ." 
 writes Bertrand. " He felt that his end was 
 approaching and he frequently recited the pas- 
 sage from ' Zaire ' which finishes with this line : 
 
 * A levoir Paris ]e ne dois phis pr^tendre.* 
 
 " Nevertheless, the hope of leaving this dread- 
 ful country often presented itself to his imagina- 
 tion. . . . Vain hopes I Vain projects t . . . 
 He often said to us in the evening, ' Where 
 shall we go? To the Th^atre-Fran9ais or to 
 the Op6ra ? ' And then be would read a tragedy 
 by Comeille, Voltaire, or Racine ; an opera of 
 Quinault's, or one of the comedies of Molibre."
 
 THE EXILE 105 
 
 Elizabeth Balcombe, then a bright girl of 
 sixteen, daughter of a resident, was a pet of 
 Napoleon's on the island, and he sometimes 
 romped with her in boyish glee. Later, as 
 Mrs. Abell, she reproduced her souvenirs of 
 him at this period of his life. 
 
 " Napoleon," says she, " was a great admirer 
 of Talma. He said he was the truest adlor to 
 nature that ever trod the boards. He was on very 
 intimate and familiar footing with him. I told 
 .him that I heard he took lessons from Talma 
 how he was to sit on his throne. He said he 
 had been often asked if such was the case, and 
 that he one day mentioned the report to the 
 great acftor, at the same time remarking to him, 
 * C'est un signe que je m'y tiens bien.' He often 
 spoke of Mademoiselle Georges, whom he repre- 
 sented as being very talented, and transcenden- 
 tally beautiful." 
 
 His memory was as ready and retentive as 
 ever, " Various subjecfts," said he, " and affairs 
 are stored away in my brain as in a chest of 
 drawers. When I want to take up any special 
 business, I shut one drawer and open another. 
 None of them ever gets mixed, and never does 
 this incommode me or fatigue me. If I feel 
 sleepy, I shut all the drawers and go to sleep."
 
 io6 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 Tragedy still found more favour with him than 
 comedy. " He sent for a volume of Racine," 
 says Las Cases, '* and at first began to read the 
 comedy of ' Les Plaideurs,' but, after a scene or 
 two, he turned to * Britannicus,' which he read 
 to us." 
 
 " Though Racine has produced chefs-d'oeuvre 
 in themselves," said he, after dinner one night, 
 "yet he has diffused over them a perpetual air 
 of insipidity. Love is eternally introduced, with 
 its tone of languor and its tiresome accompani- 
 ments. But these faults must not be attributed 
 entirely to Racine, but to the manners of the 
 age in which he wrote. Love was then, at even 
 a later period, the whole business of life with 
 everyone. This is always the case when society 
 is in a state of idleness. As for us . . . our 
 thoughts have been cruelly turned to other sub- 
 jedls by the great events of the Revolution " 
 
 Voltaire was disparagingly noticed by Napo- 
 leon. Las Cases tells us that ' Brutus,' * CEdipe,' 
 and 'Mithridate' were dissecfted by him in 
 hypercritical terms. 
 
 " It is astonishing," said he, " how little he 
 will bear reading. When the pomp of dicflion 
 and the prestige of stage setting no longer delude 
 the analytic sense and the sense of taste, he im-
 
 THE EXILE 107 
 
 mediately loses one hundred per cent. You would 
 hardly believe that, at the time of the Revolution,' 
 Voltaire had dethroned Corneille and Racine. 
 People were asleep over the beauties of their 
 works. The First Consul, it was, who awakened 
 interest in them." 
 
 Marchand reproduces what he professes to be 
 the exile's emendations of the ' Mahomet ' of 
 Voltaire. 
 
 The fa(ft remains, however, that Napoleon 
 often quoted that dramatic poet, frequently had 
 him played, and was especially eledlrified by 
 these lines from ' Mahomet ' which so exacflly 
 fitted his own marvellous career. 
 
 " Les mortals sont 6gaux ; ce n'est point la naissance, 
 C'est la seule vertu qui fait leur difference. 
 II est de ceux esprits favorises des cieux 
 Qui sont tout par eux-m§mes, et rien par leurs aieux. 
 Tel est rhomme, en un mot, que j'ai choisi pour maitre, 
 Lui seul dans I'univers, a le merite de I'etre, 
 Tout mortel a sa loi doit un jour obeir ! " 
 
 I do not for a moment wish to convey the 
 impression that the exile devoted the major 
 part of his hours to the discussion of dra- 
 matics. He was busy mostly with the history 
 of his own campaigns. He treated also of 
 Caesar and Scipio and Hannibal. O'Meara 
 tells us that he often worked at his commen-
 
 io8 napoleon's opera-glass 
 
 taries upon Frederick the Great until two and 
 three o'clock in the morning. He also com- 
 mented on the exploits of Cond^ and Turenne 
 and Marlborough. But the records show 
 that, amid all his other occupations, he referred 
 to the stage often enough to indicate how 
 deeply he had been influenced by its represen- 
 tatives. 
 
 There was something pathetic in the last 
 days of the fallen ruler, for, insidiously and 
 remorselessly, the hereditary cancer and the 
 deadly climate were undermining his consti- 
 tution. Napoleon became more and more list- 
 less and more and more moody. 
 
 " I feel uncomfortable," said he to Antom- 
 marchi, one day. " I should wish to sleep, to 
 read, to do — I don't know what. Ring for 
 Marchand, let him bring me some books, and 
 close the windows. I shall go to bed, and see 
 in a little while whether I am better. But here 
 is Racine, Docflor. Now, you are on the stage 
 and I am listening. ' Andromaque ' ! Ah, that 
 is the play for unfortunate fathers ! " 
 
 " Sire, if it were Metastasio ! " 
 
 " O, you are afraid of your accent ! The 
 metre of the poetry will conceal your Italian 
 infle<5lions. Begin!"
 
 THE EXILE 109 
 
 "I hesitated," continued Antommarchi, "and 
 
 he took the book, read a few lines, and let the 
 
 volume escape from his hands. He had fallen 
 
 upon this celebrated passage : 
 
 " Je passais jusqu'aux lieux oh Ton garde mon fils, 
 Puisqu'une fois le jour vous souffrez que je voie 
 Le seul bien qui me reste et d'Hector et de Troye : 
 J'allais, Seigneur, pleurer un moment avec lui ; 
 Je ne I'ai point encore embrasse d'aujourd'hui." 
 
 The exile was moved by the poet's words. 
 Souvenirs of his son, separated from him by 
 the force of circumstances, came to him. He 
 shaded his eyes with his hand, and asked to be 
 left alone. 
 
 Napoleon, in his latter days, spoke a good 
 word for one of the most persistent of his oppo- 
 nents. His self-esteem was flattered by the 
 happy hyperbole attributed to that opponent. 
 "Chateaubriand," said he, "received from na- 
 ture the sacred fire. His works prove it. His 
 style is not that of Racine, but that of the 
 prophet. Only he could with impunity have 
 said in the House of Peers that the grey coat 
 and hat of Napoleon, placed at the end of a 
 stick on the coast of Brest, would make Europe 
 rush to arms." 
 
 " We resumed our reading," says Las Cases. 
 " Our stock of novels was exhausted, and plays
 
 no NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 occupied our attention for the future, tragedies 
 in particular. The Emperor is uncommonly 
 fond of analyzing them. . . . He remembers 
 an immense quantity of poetry, Avhich he learned 
 when he was eighteen years old, at which time 
 he says he knew much more than he does at 
 present. . . . He greatly admires Corneille." 
 
 Napoleon would have said of that poet at 
 St. Helena what he said of him at St. Cloud. 
 
 " Tragedy fires the soul, elevates the heart, 
 and is calculated to generate heroes. Con- 
 sidered from this point of view, perhaps France 
 owes to Corneille a part of her great adlions, 
 and, gentlemen, if he lived in my time, I would 
 make him a prince ! " 
 
 They brought pamphlets from the outer world 
 while he was an exile, and he read them and 
 discussed them. He despised the petty writers 
 who assailed his reputation. " I am doomed 
 to become the prey of libel writers," he said, 
 " but I have little fear of becoming their victim. 
 They will gnaw at granite. My fame rests 
 upon facfts which mere words cannot destroy. 
 . . . In spite of all libels, I have no fear for 
 my memory." 
 
 I imagine that his thoughts were often be- 
 yond the grave. •• I should like to be my own
 
 THE EXILE III 
 
 posterity," he once remarked to Joseph. " I 
 should Hke to be present at a performance 
 where a poet like the great Corneille would 
 make me breathe again, and think, and speak." 
 
 Death, meanwhile, was rapidly approaching. 
 Towards the end of the year 1820, Napoleon 
 walked with difficulty, and required assistance 
 even to reach the chair in his garden. He 
 became nearly incapable of the slightest acftion. 
 " Here I am, Docftor," said he to Antommarchi 
 one day, " at my last cast. No more energy 
 or strength left ; I bend under the load. . . . 
 I am going. I feel that my hour is coming." 
 The news of the demise of his sister Elisa 
 affedted him deeply. After a struggle with his 
 feelings, which had nearly overpowered him, 
 he rose, supported himself on his physician's 
 arm, and, regarding him steadfastly, said, 
 " Well, Dodlor, you see Elisa has just shown 
 me the way. My turn cannot be far off. What 
 think you ? " 
 
 " Your Majesty is in no danger. You are 
 still reserved for some glorious enterprise." 
 
 " Ah, Do(5tor ! I have neither strength nor 
 activity for anything. . . . You strive in vain 
 to give me hopes, to recall life ready to expire. 
 Your care can do nothing in spite of fate ; it
 
 112 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 is immovable. There is no appeal from its 
 decisions. Behold, my good friend, how I look 
 on my situation. As for me, all is over. 1 
 repeat it to you, my days will soon close on this 
 miserable rock." 
 
 " We returned," says Antommarchi, " into 
 his room. Napoleon lay down in bed." 
 
 " Close my windows," he said. " Leave me 
 to myself. I will send for you by and by. 
 What a delightful thing rest is ! I would not 
 exchange it for all the thrones in the world ! 
 What a change ! How I am fallen ! I, whose 
 a(5livity was boundless, whose mind never slum- 
 bered, am now plunged into a lethargic stupor, 
 so that it requires an effort to raise my eyelids. 
 I sometimes dicftated to four or five secretaries, 
 who wrote as fast as words could be uttered : 
 but then I was Napoleon — now I am no longer 
 anything. My strength — my faculties forsake 
 me. I do not live — I merely exist!"
 
 Concl 
 
 usion
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 I CANNOT tell how often Napoleon used his 
 opera-glass. I do not know in what private 
 collecftion or in what curiosity shop that opera- 
 glass now lies. I think we may safely conclude, 
 however, that the man who held it in his hands 
 was unmistakably influenced by playwrights 
 and players, and was himself one of the most 
 sublime of the histrions of history.
 
 Authorities
 
 AUTHORITIES 
 
 Abell. Recollections. London, 1844. 
 
 Antommarchi. Derniers Moments de Napol6on. Paris, 1825. 
 
 Arnault. Souvenirs d'un Sexagenaire. Paris, 1833. 
 
 Barras. Memoires. Paris, 1895 — 96. 
 
 Bausset. Memoires. Paris, 1827. 
 
 Bernays. Zur Neuern Litteratur Geschichte. Stuttgart, 1895. 
 
 Besnard. Souvenirs d'un Nonagenaire. Paris, 1 880. 
 
 Beugnot. Memoires. Paris, 1866. 
 
 Bingham. Letters and Despatches of Napoleon. London, 
 
 1884. 
 Biographie G6n6rale. Paris, 1855 — 70. 
 Bonaparte (Joseph). Memoires. Paris, 1853. 
 Bonaparte (Joseph) Erreurs de Bourrienne. Paris, 1830. 
 Bonaparte (Lucien). Memoires. Paris, 1882. 
 Bourrienne. Memoires. Paris, 1829. 
 Broglie. Souvenirs. Paris, 1886. 
 Chaptal. Souvenirs. Paris, 1893. 
 Chateaubriand. De Buonaparte. Paris, 1814. 
 Chateaubriand. M6moires D'Outre-Tombe. Paris, 1849. 
 Cockburn. Napoleon's Last Voyage. London, l888. 
 Constant (Wairy). Memoires. Paris, 1830. 
 Constant (Rebecque). Oiluvres. Paris, 1874. 
 Constant (Rebecque). Lettres a Madame Recamier. Paris, 
 
 1882. 
 Copin. Talma et I'Empire. Paris, 18S7. 
 Coston. Napoldon Bonaparte. Paris, 1840. 
 D'Abrant^s. M6moires, Paris, 1893.
 
 120 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Damas Hinard, Napoldon. Paris, 1838. 
 
 Du Casse. Supplement a la Correspondance de Napoleon. 
 
 Paris, 1887. 
 Durand. Memoires sur Napol6on et Marie Louise. Paris, 
 
 1886. 
 Eckermann. Gesprache mit Goethe. Leipzig, 1885. 
 Fontanes. CEuvres. Paris, 1839. 
 Forsyth. Napoleon at St. Helena. London, 1853. 
 Gentz. Memoires et Lettres. Stuttgart, 1841. 
 Girardin. Journal et Souvenirs. Paris, 1834. 
 Gourgaud. Memoires. Paris, 1829. 
 Hardenberg. Denkwiirdigkeiten. Leipzig, 1877. 
 Hayward. Essays. London, 1858 — 74. 
 Holland. Foreign Reminiscences. London, 1850. 
 lung. Bonaparte et Son Temps. Paris, 18S0 — 81. 
 Lanfrey. Napoleon I. Paris, 1867 — 71. 
 Langon. Evenings with Cambac^r^s. London, 1837. 
 Las Cases. Memorial de Sainte-H^l^ne. Paris, 1823. 
 Laugier. Documents Historiques sur la Comddie-Fran9aise. 
 
 Paris, 1853. 
 Lavalette. Memoirs. London, 1894. 
 Mackintosh. Memoirs. London, 1835. 
 Marchand. Precis des Guerres de Cesar. Paris, 1853. 
 Marmont. Memoires. Paris, 1857. 
 Masson. Napoleon Inconnu. Paris, 1895. 
 M6neval. Mdmoires. Paris, 1894. 
 
 Merlet. Littdrature FranQaise, 1800— 1815. Paris, 1878. 
 Metternich. M6moires. Paris, 1884. 
 Miot de Melito. Memoires. Paris, 1880. 
 Mollien. Memoires. Paris, 1845. 
 Montgelas. Denkwiirdigkeiten. Stuttgart, 1887. 
 Montholon. R^cits de la Captivity. Paris, 1847. 
 Moreau. Memoires sur Talma. Paris, 1826. 
 Mueller. Erinnerungen. Braunschweig, 1851. 
 Napol<^on. CEuvres Litt^raires. Paris, 1888.
 
 AUTHORITIES 121 
 
 Napoleon. Correspondance. Paris, 1858—70. 
 
 Napoleon. Bulletins OfSciels. Paris, 1824. 
 
 Napoleon. Lettres ^ Josephine. Paris, 1833. 
 
 Napoleon. Correspondence with Joseph. London, 1855. 
 
 Napoleon (J6rome). Napoleon et ses D^tracteurs. Paris, 1887. 
 
 O'Meara. Napoleon at St. Helena. London, 1888. 
 
 Pacca. Memoirs. London, 1850. 
 
 Pelet de La Lozfere. Opinions de Napoleon. Paris, 1833. 
 
 Pradt. Histoire de I'Ambassade dans le Grand-Duche de 
 Varsovie. Paris, 181 5. 
 
 R^musat. Memoires. Paris, 1880. 
 
 R6musat. Lettres, 1804— 1815. Paris, 1881. 
 
 Roederer. Oiuvres. Paris, 1853—59. 
 
 Sainte-Beuve. Chateaubriand et Son Groupe Litt^raire* 
 Paris, 1834. 
 
 Savary. Memoires. Paris, 1828. 
 
 Scott. Napoleon Buonaparte. Edinburgh, 1827. 
 
 Seeley. Life of Napoleon. London, 1886. 
 
 Segur. Memoires. Paris, 1846. 
 
 Sklower. Entrevue de Napoleon et de Goethe. Lille, 1853. 
 
 Stael. Revolution FranQaise. Paris, 181 8. 
 
 Stael. Correspondence with the Grand Duchess Louise- 
 London, 1869. 
 
 Stendhal. Vie de Napoleon. Paris, 1876. 
 
 Stendhal. Racine et Shakspeare. Paris, 1854. 
 
 Stendhal. Journal, 1801 — 1814. Paris, 1888. 
 
 Stunner. Napoleon k Sainte-H616ne. Paris, 1888. 
 
 Suard. Memoires sur Suard. Paris, 1820. 
 
 Taine. Le Regime Moderne. Paris, 1894. 
 
 Talleyrand. Memoires. Paris, 1891. 
 
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 Paris, 1889. 
 
 Thibaudeau. Le Consulat et L' Empire. Paris, 1834. 
 
 Thidbault. Memoires. Paris, 1893. 
 
 Thiers. Le Consulat et I'Empire. Paris, 1869.
 
 122 NAPOLEONS OPERA-GLASS 
 
 Varnhagen Von Ense. Denkwurdigkeiten. Mannheim, 1837. 
 Vigny. Lights and Shades of Military Life. London, 1840. 
 Villemain. Souvenirs Contemporains. Paris, 1854. 
 Welschinger. La Censure sous le Premier Empire. Paris, 
 
 1882. 
 Whitworth. Despatches. London, 1887.
 
 Printed by R. _ffolkard <V Son, 
 22, Devonshire Street, Bloovisbury, London, W.C.
 
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