devin tite ; is: Eee. say ares oe Erte 2 : H ait yey i ut “ *} i: hss +4 awit 7i,2,¥; i sty ayy et at masini iD pea Ae eu , oe Fs "SC As > 4 dime Ten From the Library of Urnofessor Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield Beyueathed hy him to the Library of Princeton Cheolongical Seminary Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/lifeofnapoleonboOOtarb_0 5 se +f Y te oe “ y¥.)* . ie VIPER ORINAROLTEOIN BONAPARTE AT TWENTY-TWO YEARS OF AGE After a portrait by Greuze. A LIFE of NAPOLEON BO NAP AR DE ITH a@ Sketch of |OSE- PHINE, Empress of the French. Illustrated from the collection of NAPOLEON kx- gravings made by the late Fon. G. G. Hubbard, and now owned by the Congressional Library, Washington, D. C., supplemented by Pictures from the best French Collections BY IDA M. TARBELL New YorRK McClure, Phillips & Co. Katee, (Gyles AE COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY Ss. S. MCCLURE, LIMITED COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY S.S. MCCLURE, LIMITED COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY THE S. 8S. MCCLURE CO. COPYRIGHT, roor1, BY McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO, First IMPRESSION FEBRUARY, IQOI SECOND IMPRESSION APRIL, IQOI CONE Neus THE LIFE.-OF NAPOLEON: CHAPTER PAGE I. YouTH AND Earty SvurrounpDINGs.—ScHoot Days AT BRIENNE . : ; ; ; : fy) II. In Parts.—LIEUTENANT OF ARTILLERY.—LITERARY WorK.— THE REVOLUTION ; Be ee, III. RoBEsPIERRE.—OuT oF WorkK.—First SUCCESS . 3 kG IV. CourTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.—DEVOTION TO JOSEPHINE . 53 V. ITALIAN CAMPAIGN.—RULES OF WAR . i , Ol VI. RETURN TO PARIS.—EGYPTIAN CAMPAIGN.—THE I8TH BRU- MAIRE ., : 2 3 é : ; oO VII. STATESMAN AND LAWGIVER.—THE FINANCES.—THE IN- DUSTRIES.—ITHE PusLic WorKS . : : 05 VIII. ReturN oF THE EMIGRES.—THE CONCORDAT.—LEGION OF Honor.—CopE NAPOLEON ; : f : ELO IX. OpposITION TO THE CENTRALIZATION OF THE GOVERN- MENT.—PROSPERITY OF FRANCE : : : 53, AE X. PREPARATIONS FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND.—FLOTILLA AT Bou- LOGNE.—SALE OF LOUISIANA . : ; : "143 XI. Emperor OF THE FRENCH PEOPLE.—KING oF ITALY , . 151 XII. CAMPAIGNS OF 1805, 1806. 1807.—PEACE OF TILSIT . 5 ee XIII. ExTensION or NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE.—FAMILY AFFAIRS . 179 XIV. BERLIN DECREE.—PENINSULAR WAR.—THE BONAPARTES ON THE SPANISH THRONE . ; : ; : : : Los XV. DISASTERS IN SPAIN.—ERFURT MEETING.—NAPOLEON AT MADRID : : : : as. : a LO0 8 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XVI. TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY.—CAMPAIGN OF 1809 XVII. Divorce or. JoSEPHINE.—MARRIAGE WITH Marie LOUISE.— BIRTH OF THE KING OF ROME XVIII. TrousLeE witH THE Pope.—THE CONSCRIPTION.—THE TIL- sit AGREEMENT BROKEN : ‘ XIX. Russian CAMPAIGN.—BURNING OF Moscow.—A NEw ARMY XX. CAMPAIGN OF 1813.—CAMPAIGN OF 1814.—ABDICATION . , XXI. Erpa.—_THe Hunprep DAays.—THE SECOND ABDICATION , XXII. SuRRENDER TO ENGLISH.—ST, HELENA.—DEATH : XXIII. THe SEconpD FUNERAL . ? : ‘ SKETCH OF JOSEPHINE—EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH: I. FAMILY.—EARLY SURROUNDINGS.—ALEXANDER DE BEAUHAR- NAIS.—MARRIAGE.—SEPARATION FROM HUSBAND II. JOSEPHINE IN THE REVOLUTION.—IMPRISONED AT LES CARMES.—STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE.—MARRIAGE WITH € BONAPARTE ; : : : III. BoNAPARTE GOES TO ITALY.—JOSEPHINE AT MILAN 1706- 1797.—TRIUMPHAL TouR IN ITALY.—BONAPARTE LEAVES FOR EcyPpt : ; : IV. BoNAPARTE IS MADE First CoNSUL.—-JOSEPHINE’S TACT IN Pusitic LireE.—HEeEr PERSONAL CHARM.—MALMAISON V. THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION.—MARRIAGE OF HoRTENSE.— JoSEPHINE EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH PEOPLE.—THE Coro- NATION VI. ETIQUETTE REGULATING JOSEPHINE’S LIFE.—RoYAL Jour- NEYS.— EXTRAVAGANCE IN DRESS VII. JosEPHINE NOT ALLOWED To Go To PoLAND.—FEaAR oF Dt- VORCE.—THE RECONCILIATION OF 1807-1808.—THE CAM- PAIGN OF I809 AND ITS EFFECT ON NAPOLEON 5 PAE 325 - 334 393 CONTENTS 9 CHAPTER PAGE VIII. NAPOLEON RETURNS TO FRANCE.—JOSEPHINE’S UNHAPPI- NESS.—NAPOLEON’S VIEW OF A DivorcE.—THE Way IN WHICH THE DIVORCE WAS EFFECTED . : , Al IX. AFTER THE DivorcE.—NAVARRE.—JOSEPHINE’S SUSPICIONS OF THE EMPEROR.—HER GRADUAL RETURN TO HAPPINESS 423 X. EFFECT ON JOSEPHINE OF DISASTERS IN RUSSIA.—ANXIETY DurRING CAMPAIGN OF I813.—FLIGHT FROM Paris.— DEATH IN I814 ; ’ - 440 HANDWRITING OF NAPOLEON AT DIFFERENT PERIODS. - 453 TABLE OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY - . 464 CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE . . 469 INDEX : : . ; 4 : 477 Peels + oll eo ) 6 eo eng ee > +.) ae ‘ nepnree £7 OS i PREFACE JO FIRST EDITION THE chief source of illustration for this volume, as in the case of the Napoleon papers in MCCLURE’s MAGAZINE, 1S the great collection of engravings of Mr. Gardiner G. Hub- bard, which has been generously placed at the service of the publishers. In order to make the illustration still more comprehensive, a representative of McCCLURE’s MAGAZINE and an authorized agent of Mr. Hubbard visited Paris, to seek there whatever it might be desirable to have in the way of additional pictures which were not within the scope of Mr. Hubbard’s splendid collection. They secured the assistance of M. Armand Dayot, Inspecteur des Beaux-Arts, who pos- sessed rare qualifications for the task. His official position he owed to his familiarity with the great art collections, both public and private, of France, and his official duties made him especially familiar with the great paintings re- lating to French history. Besides, he was a specialist in Napoleonic iconography. On account of his qualifications and special knowledge, he had been selected by the great house of Hachette et Cie, to edit their book on Napoléon raconté par Image, which was the first attempt to bring together in one volume the most important pictures relating to the military, political, and private life of Napoleon. M. Dayot had just completed this task, and was fresh from his studies of Napoleonic pictures, when his aid was secured by the publishers of MCCLuRE’s MAGAZINE, in supplementing the Hubbard collection. The work was prosecuted with the one aim of omitting no important picture. When great paintings indispensable Il 12 PREFACE to a complete pictorial life of Napoleon were found, which had never been either etched or engraved, photographs were obtained, many of these photographs being made especially for our use. A generous selection of pictures was made from the works of Raffet and Charlet. M. Dayot was able also to add a number of pictures—not less than a score—of unique value, through his personal relations with the owners of the ereat private Napoleonic collections. Thus were obtained hitherto unpublished pictures, of the highest value, from the collections of Monseigneur Duc d’Aumale; of H. I. H., Prince Victor Napoleon; of Prince Roland; of Baron Lar- rey, the son of the chief surgeon of the army of Napoleon; of the Duke of Bassano, son of the minister and confidant of the emperor; of Monsieur Edmond Taigny, the friend and biographer of Isabev; of Monsieur Albert Christophle, Governor-General of the Crédit-Foncier of France; of Mon- sieur Paul le Roux, who has perhaps the richest of the Na- poleonic collections; and of Monsieur le Marquis de Gir- ardin, son-in-law of the Duc de Gaete, the faithful Minister of Finance of Napoleon I. It-will be easily understood that no doubt can be raised as to the authenticity of documents borrowed from such sources. The following letter explains fully the plan on which Mr. Lubbard’s collection 1s arranged, and shows as well its ad- mirable completeness. It gives, too, a classification of the pictures into periods, which will be useful to the reader. WASHINGTON, October, 1894. Say VLCGLURE 2s) Dear Sir:—It is about fourteen years since I became interested in engravings, and I have since that time made a considerable collection, including many portraits, generally painted and engraved during the life of the personage. I have from two hundred to three hundrd prints relating to Napoleon, his family, and his generals. The earliest of these is a portrait of Napoleon painted in 1791, when he was twenty- two years old; the next in date was engraved in 1796. There are many PREFACE iB. in each subsequent year, and four prints of drawings made immediately after his death. There are few men whose characters at different periods of life are so distinctly marked as Napoleon’s, as will appear by an examination .of these prints. There are four of these periods: First Period, 1796- 1797, Napoleon the General; Second Period, 1801-1804, Napoleon the Statesman and Lawgiver; Third Period, 1804-1812, Napoleon the Em- peror; Fourth Period, the Decline and Fall of Napoleon, including Waterloo and St. Helena. Most of these prints are contemporaneous with the periods described. The portraits include copies of the por- traits painted by the greatest painters and engraved by the best en- gravers of that age. There are four engravings of the paintings by Meissonier—* 1807,’ ‘‘ Napoleon,’ ‘‘ Napoleon Reconnoitering,” and pero As, First Pertop, 1796-1797, Napoleon the General.—In these the Italian spelling of the name, “ Buonaparte,’ is generally adopted. At this period there were many French and other artists in Italy, and it would seem as if all were desirous of painting the young general. A French writer in a late number of the “ Gazette des Beaux-Arts” is uncertain whether Gros, Appiani, or Cossia was the first to obtain a sitting from General Bonaparte. It does not matter to your readers, as portraits by each of these artists are included in this collection. There must have been other portraits or busts of Bonaparte executed before 1796, besides the one by Greuze given in this collection. These may be found, but there are no others in my collection. Of the por- traits of Napoleon belonging to this period eight were engraved before 1798, one in 1800. All have the long hair falling below the ears over the forehead and shoulders; while all portraits subsequent to Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt have short hair. The length of the hair affords an indication of the date of the portrait. SECOND PErRIop, 1801-1804, Napoleon the Statesman and Lawgiver.— During this period many English artists visited Paris, and painted or engraved portraits of Napoleon. In these the Italian spelling ‘ Buona- parte”’ is adopted, while in the French engravings of this period he is called “ Bonaparte” or “General Bonaparte.” Especially noteworthy among them is ‘“‘ The Review at the Tuileries,’ regarded by Masson as the best likeness of Napoleon “ when thirty years old and in his best estate.’ The portrait painted by Gérard in 1803, and engraved by Richomme, is by others considered the best of this period. There is already a marked change from the long and thin face in earlier por- traits to the round and full face of this period. In some of these prints the Code Napoléon is introduced as an accessory. Turirp Perron, 1804-1812, Napoleon the Emperor.—He is now styled “ Napoléon,’ “ Napoléon le Grand.” or ‘“ L’Empereur.” His chief painters in this period are Léfevre, Gérard, Isabey, Lupton, and David 14 PREFACE (with Raphael-Morghen, Longhi, Desnoyers, engravers)—artists of greater merit than those of the earlier periods. The full-length por- trait by David has been copied oftener and is better known than any other. It has been said that we cannot in the portraits of this period,.exe- cuted by Gérard, Isabey, and David, find a true likeness of Napoleon. His ministers thought “it was necessary that the sovereign should have a serene expression, with a beauty almost more than human, like the deified Caesars or the gods of whom they were the image.” ‘“ Advise the painters,’ Napoleon wrote to Duroc, September 15, 1807, “ to make the countenance more gracious (plutot gracieuses).’’ Again, “ Advise the painters to seek less a perfect resemblance than to give the beau ideal in preserving certain features and in making the likeness more agreeable (plutét agréable).” FourtH PeEriop, 1812-1815, Decline and Fall of Napoleon-—We have probably in the front and side face made by Girodet, and published in England, a true likeness of Napoleon. It was drawn by Girodet in the Chapel of the Tuileries, March 8, 1812, while Napoleon was attend- ing mass. It is believed to be a more truthful lkeness than that by David, made the same year; the change in his appearance to greater fulness than in the portraits of 1801-1804 is here more plainly marked. | He has now become corpulent, and his face is round and full. Two portraits taken in 1815 show it even more clearly. One of these was taken immediately before the battle of Waterloo, and the other, by J. Eastlake, immediately after. Mr. Eastlake, then an art student, was staying at Plymouth when the “ Bellerophon” put in. He watched Napoleon for several days, taking sketches from which he afterwards made a full length portrait. The collection concludes with three notable prints: the first of the mask made by Dr. Antommarchi the day of his death, and engraved by Calamatta in 1834; another of a drawing ‘“‘ made immediately after death by Captain Ibbetson, R. N.;” and the third of a drawing by Cap- tain Crockatt, made fourteen hours after the death of Napoleon, and published in London July 18, 1821. These show in a remarkable man- ner the head of this wonderful man. The larger part of these prints was purchased through Messrs. Wun- derlich & Co., and Messrs. Keppel of New York, some at auctions in Berlin, London, Amsterdam, and Stuttgart; very few in Paris. GARDINER G. HUBBARD. The historical and critical notes which accompany the illustrations in this volume have been furnished by Mr. Hub- bard as a rule, though those signed A. D. come from the pen of M. Armand Dayot. PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION The Life of Napoleon in this volume first appeared as a serial in Volumes III and IV of McClure’s Magazine. In 1895 on its completion in serial form it was published in book form, illustrated by a series of portraits from the Hub- bard collection which had been used in the magazine and by numerous other pictures drawn from the principal French Napoleon collections. The illustrations in the present edi- tion have been selected from those used in the first. The variety and extent of these illustrations are explained in the Pi etacemo tern itctseditionsueremecproduceds.. Lhe Lite or Napoleon is supplemented in the present work by a sketch of Josephine. The absence of any Life of Josephine in Eng- lish drawn from recent historical investigations is the rea- son for presenting this sketch. Until within a very few years the first Empress of the French People has been pic- tured to the world as her grandson Napoleon III desired that she appear—a fitting type for popular adoration—more of a saint and a martyr than of a woman. The present Sketclmisuatlattcinpiu Le srcheas(rucistoly O1rener lite as it 1s revealed by the recent diligent researches of Frederic Mas- son and by the numerous memoirs of the periods which have appeared, many of them since the passing of the Second Empire. If the story as told here 1s frank, it is hoped by the author that it will not be found unsympathetic. 15 BORN 1746; DIED 1785, THER OF NAPOLEON, CHARLES BONAPARTE, FA 16 PENCIL SKETCHES BY DAVID, REPRESENTING BONAPARTE AT BRIENNE, BONAPARTE GENERAL OF THE ARMY OF ITALY, BONAPARTE AS EMPEROR. LIFE OF NAPOLEON GEA PAL BAR NAPOLEON'S YOUTH AND EARLY SURROUNDINGS—HIS SCHOOL DAYS AT BRIENNE J i Il were not convinced that his family is as old and as good as my own,” said the Emperor of Austria when he married Marie Louise to Napoleon Bonaparte, “TI would not give him my daughter.”’ The remark is suffi- cient recognition of the nobility of the father of Napoleon, Charles Marie de Bonaparte, a gentleman of Ajaccio, Cor- sica, whose family, of Tuscan origin, had settled there in the sixteenth century, and who, in 1765, had married a young girl of the island, Letitia Ramolino. Monsieur Bonaparte gave his wife a noble name, but little else. He was an indolent, pleasure-loving, chimerical man, who had inherited a lawsuit, and whose time was ab- sorbed in the hopeless task of recovering an estate of which the Church had taken possession. Madame Bonaparte 17 18 LIFE OF NAPOLEON brought her husband no great name, but she did bring him health, beauty, and remarkable qualities. Tall and impos- ing, Mademoiselle Lzetitia Ramolino had a superb carriage, which she never lost, and a face which attracted attention particularly by the accentuation and perfection of its fea- tures. She was reserved, but of ceaseless energy and will, and though but fifteen when married, she conducted her family affairs with such good sense and firmness that she was able to bring up decently the eight children spared her from the thirteen she bore. The habits of order and econ- omy formed in her years of struggle became so firmly rooted in her character that later, when she became mater regum, the ‘‘ Madame Mere” of an imperial court, she could not put them aside, but saved from the generous income at her disposal, ‘* for those of my children who are not yet settled,” she said. Throughout her life she showed the truth of her son’s characterization: ‘A man’s head on a woman’s body.” The first years after their marriage were stormy ones for the Bonapartes. The Corsicans, led by the patriot Pascal Paoli, were in revolt against the French, at that time mas- ters of the island. Among Paoli’s followers.was Charles Bonaparte. He shared the fortunes of his chief to the end of the struggle of 1769, and when, finally, Paoli was hope- lessly defeated, took to the mountains. In all the dangers and miseries of this war tnd flight, Charles Bonaparte was accompanied by his wife, who, vigorous of body and brave of heart, suffered privations, dangers, and fatigue without complaint. When the Corsicans submitted, the Bonapartes went back to Ajaccio. Six weeks later Madame Bonaparte gave birth to her fourth child, Napoleon. “T was born,” said Napoleon, “when my country was perishing. Thirty thousand Frenchmen were vomited upon our soil. Cries of the wounded, sighs of the oppressed, and tears of despair surrounded my cradle at my birth.” NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 19 Young Bonaparte learned to hate with the fierceness pecu- liar to Corsican blood the idea of oppression, to revere Paoli, and, with a bov’s contempt of necessity, even to despise his father’s submission. It was not strange. Hus mother had little time for her children’s training. His father gave them no attention; and Napoleon, “ obstinate and curious,” dom- ineering over his brothers and companions, fearing no one, ran wild on the beach with the sailors or over the mountains with the herdsmen, listening to their tales of the Corsican rebellion and of fights, on sea and land, imbibing their con- tempt for submission, their love for liberty. At nine years of age he was a shy, proud, wilful child, unkempt and untrained, little, pale, and nervous, almost without instruction, and yet already enamored of a soldier’s life and conscious of a certain superiority over his comrades. Then it was that he was suddenly transplanted from his free life to an environment foreign in its language, artificial in its etiquette, and severe in its regulations. It was as a dependent, a species of charity pupil, that he went into this new atmosphere. Charles Bonaparte had be- come, in the nine years since he had abandoned the cause of Paoli, a thorough parasite. Like all the poor nobility of the country to which he had attached himself, and even like many of the rich in that day, he begged favors of every de- scription from the government in return for his support. To aid in securing them, he humbled himself before the French Governor-General of Corsica, the Count de Mar- boeuf, and made frequent trips, which he could ill afford, back and forth to Versailles. The free education of his children, a good office with its salary and honors, the main- tenance of his claims against the Jesuits, were among the favors which he sought. By dint of solicitation he had secured a place among the free pupils of the college at Autun for his son Joseph, the LAETITIA RAMOLINO, NAPOLEON’S MOTHER. BORN 1750, DIED 1836. 20 NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 21 oldest of the family, and one for Napoleon at the military school at Brienne. To enter the school at Brienne, it was necessary to be able to read and write French, and to pass a preliminary exam- ination in that language. This young Napoleon could not do; indeed, he could scarcely have done as much in his native Italian. A preparatory school was necessary, then, for atime. ‘The place settled on was Autun, where Joseph was to enter college, and there in January, 1779, Charles Bonaparte arrived with the two boys. Napoleon was nine and a half years old when he entered the school at Autun. He remained three months, and in that time made sufficient progress to fulfil the requirements at Brienne. The principal record of the boy’s conduct at Autun comes from Abbé Chardon, who was at the head of the primary department. He says of his pupil: “Napoleon brought to Autun a sombre, thoughtful character. He was interested in no one. and found his amusements by himself. He rarely had a companion in his walks. He was quick to learn, and quick of apprehension in all ways. When I gave him a lesson, he fixed his eyes upon me with parted lips; but if I recapitulated anything I had said, his interest was gone, as he plainly showed by his manner. When reproved for this, he would answer coldly, I might almost say with an imperious air, ‘I know it already, sir.’ ”’ When he went to Brienne, Napoleon left his brother Jo- seph behind at Autun. The boy had not now one familiar feature in his life. The school at Brienne was made up of about one hundred and twenty pupils, half of whom were supported by the government. They were sons of nobles, who, generally, had little but their great names, and whose rule for getting on in the world was the rule of the old régime—secure a powerful patron, and, by flattery and ser- vile attentions, continue in his train. Young Bonaparte heard little but boasting, and saw little but vanity. His first lessons in French society were the doubtful ones of the para- 22 LIFE OF NAPOLEON site and courtier. The motto which he saw everywhere practised was, “ The end justifies the means.’’ His teach- ers were not strong enough men to counteract this influence. The military schools of France were at this time in the hands of religious orders, and the Minim Brothers, who had charge of Brienne, were principally celebrated for their ignorance. They certainly could not change the arrogant - and false notions of their aristocratic young pupils. It was a dangerous experiment to place in such surround- ings a boy like the young Napoleon, proud, ambitious, jeal- ous; lacking any healthful moral training; possessing an Italian indifference to truth and the rights of others; already conscious that he had his own way to make in the world, and inspired by a determination to do it. From the first the atmosphere at Brienne was hateful to the boy. His comrades were French, and it was the French who had subdued Corsica. They taunted him with it some- times, and he told them that had there been but four to one, Corsica would never have been conquered, but that the French came ten to one. When they said: “ But your fa- ther submitted,’ he said bitterly: “I shall never forgive him for it.’ As for Paoli, he told them, proudly, “ He is a good man. I wish I could be like him.” He had trouble with the new language. They jeered at him because of it. His name was strange; la paille au nez was the nickname they made from Napoleon. He was poor; they were rich. The contemptuous treat- ment he received because of his poverty was such that he begged to be taken home. “My father [he wrote], if you or my protectors cannot give me the means of sustaining myself more honorably in the house where I am, please let me return home as soon as possible. I am tired of poverty and of the jeers of insolent scholars who are superior to me only in their fortune, for there is not one among them who feels one hundredth part of the noble sentiment which animates me. Must your son, sir, NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 23 continually be the butt of these boobies, who, vain of the luxuries which they enjoy, insult me by their laughter at the privations which I am forced to endure? No, father, no! If fortune refuses to smile upon me, take me from Brienne, and make me, if you will, a mechanic. From these words you may judge of my despair. This letter, sir, please believe, is not dictated by a vain desire to enjoy extravagant amusements. I have no such wish. I feel simply that it is necessary to show my companions that I can procure them as well as they, if I wish to do so. “Your respectful and affectionate son, ‘““ BONAPARTE.” Charles Bonaparte, always in pursuit of pleasure and his inheritance, could not help his son. Napoleon made other attempts to escape, even offering himself, it is said, to the British Admiralty as a sailor, and once, at least, begging Monsieur de Marbceuf, the Governor-General of Corsica, who had aided Charles Bonaparte in securing places for both boys, to withdraw his protection. The incident which led to this was characteristic of the school. The supercilious young nobles taunted him with his father’s position; it was nothing but that of a poor tipstaff, they said. Young Bona- parte, stung by what he thought an insult, attacked his tor- mentors, and, being caught in the act, was shut up. He im- mediately wrote to the Count de Marbceuf a letter of re- markable qualities in so young a boy and in such circum- stances. After explaining the incident he said: “Now, Monsieur le Comte, if I am guilty, if my liberty has been taken from me justly, have the goodness to add to the kindnesses which you have shown me one thing more—take me from Brienne and with- draw your protection: it would be robbery on my part to keep it any longer from one who deserves it more than I do. I shall never, sir, be worthier of it than I am now. I shall never cure myself of an im- petuosity which is all the more dangerous because I believe its mo- tive is sacred. Whatever idea of self-interest influences me, I shall never have control enough to see my father, an honorable man, dragged in the mud. I shall always, Monsieur le Comte, feel too deeply in these circumstances to limit myself to complaining to my superior. I shall always feel that a good son ought not to allow another to avenge such an outrage. As for the benefits which you have rained upon me, BONAPARTE AT BRIENNE, The original of this statue is in the gallery of Versailles. It dates from 1851, and is by Louis Rochet, one of the pupils of David d’Angers. 24 NAPOLEON’S YOUTH 25 they will never be forgotten. I shall say I had gained an honorable protection, but Heaven denied me the virtues which were necessary in order to profit by it.” In the end Napoleon saw that there was no way for him but to remain at Brienne, galled by poverty and formalism. It would be unreasonable to suppose that there was no relief to this sombre life. The boy won recognition more than once from his companions by his bravery and skill in defending his rights. He was not only valorous; he was generous, and, “ preferred going to prison himself to de- nouncing his comrades who had done wrong.” Young Na- poleon found, soon, that if there were things for which he was ridiculed, there were others for which he was ap- plauded. He made friends, particularly among his teachers; and to one of his comrades, Bourrienne, he remained attached for years. “ You never laugh at me; you like me,” he said to his friend. Those who found him morose and surly, did not realize that beneath the reserved, sullen exterior of the little Corsican boy there was a proud and passionate heart aching for love and recognition; that it was sensitiveness rather than arrogance which drove him away from his mates. At the end of five and one-half years Napoleon was pro- moted to the military school at Paris. The choice of pupils for this school was made by an inspector, at this time one Chevalier de Kéralio, an amiable old man, who was fond of mingling with the boys as well as examining them. He was particularly pleased with Napoleon, and named him for pro- motion in spite of his being strong in nothing but mathemat- ics, and not yet being of the age required by the regulations. The teachers protested, but De Kéralio insisted. “T know what I am doing,” he said. “If I put the rules aside in this case, it is not to do his family a favor—I do 26 LIFE OF NAPOLEON not know them. It is because of the child himself. I have seen a spark here which cannot be too carefully cultivated.” De Kéralio died before the nominations were made, but his wishes in regard to young Bonaparte were carried out. The recommendation which sent him up is curious. The notes read: “Monsieur de Bonaparte; height four feet, ten inches and ten lines; he has passed his fourth examination; good constitution, excellent health; submissive character, frank and grateful; regular in conduct; has distinguished himself by his application to mathematics; is passa- bly well up in history and geography; is behindhand in his Latin. Will make an excellent sailor. Deserves to be sent to the school in Parics (GiebVe MeO Ig NAPOEEONG ENE CARIS—— LIEU DENAN TAOReARTILEERY——LITER- ARY WORK-—NAPOLEON AND THE REVOLUTION T was in October, 1784, that Napoleon was placed in the | Ecole Militaire at Paris, the same school which still faces the Champ de Mars. He was fifteen years old at the time, a thin-faced, awkward, countrified boy, who stared open-mouthed at the Paris street sights and seemed singularly out of place to those who saw him in the capital for the first time. Napoleon found his new associates even more distasteful than those at Brienne had been. The pupils of the Ecole Militaire were sons of soldiers and provincial gentlemen, educated gratuitously, and rich young men who paid for their privileges. The practices of the school were luxuri- ous. There was a large staff of. servants, costly stables, several courses at meals. Those who were rich spent freely; most of those who were poor ran in debt. Napoleon could not pay his share in the lunches and gifts which his mates offered now and then to teachers and fellows. He saw his sister Eliza, who was at Madame de Maintenon’s school at St. Cyr, weep one day for the same reason. He would not borrow. “‘ My mother has already too many expenses, and I have no business to increase them by extravagances which are simply imposed upon me by the stupid folly of my com- rades.” But he did complain loudly to his friends. The Permons, a Corsican family living on the Quai Conti, who made Napoleon thoroughly at home, even holding a room 27 28 LIFE OF NAPOLEON at his disposal, frequently discussed these complaints. Was it vanity and envy, or a wounded pride and just indigna- tion? The latter, said Monsieur Permon. This feeling was so profound with Napoleon, that, with his natural in- stinct for regulating whatever was displeasing to him, he prepared a memorial to the government, full of good, prac- tical sense, on the useless luxury of the pupils. A year in Paris finished Napoleon’s military education, and in October, 1785, when sixteen years old, he received his appointment as second lieutenant of the artillery in a regiment stationed at Valence. Out of the fifty-eight pupils entitled that year to the promotion of second lieutenant, but six went to the artillery; of these six Napoleon was one. His examiner said of him: “ Reserved and studious, he prefers study to any amusement, and enjoys reading the best authors; applies himself earnestly to the ab- stract sciences; cares little for anything else. He is silent and loves solitude. He is capricious, haughty, and excessively egotistical; talks little, but is quick and energetic in his replies, prompt and severe in his repartees; has great pride and ambitions, aspiring to anything. The young man is worthy of patronage.” He left Paris at once, on money borrowed from a cloth merchant whom his father had patronized, not sorry, prob- ably, that his school-days were over, though it is certain that all of those who had been friendly to him in this period he never forgot in the future. Several of his old teachers at Brienne received pensions; one was made rector of the School of Fine Arts established at Compiégne, another librarian at Malmaison, where the porter was the former porter at Brienne. The professors of the Ecole Militaire were equally well taken care of, as well as many of his schoolmates. During the Consulate, learning that Madame de Montesson, wife of the Duke of Orleans, was still living, he sent for her to come to the Tuileries, and asked what he NAPOLEON IN PARIS 29 could do for her. “ But, General,’ protested Madame de Montesson, “ I have no claim upon you.” “ You do not know, then,” replied the First Consul, “that I received my first crown from you. You went to Brienne with the Duke of Orleans to distribute the prizes, and in placing a laurel wreath on my head, you said: *‘ May it bring you happiness.’ They say I am a fatalist, Madame, so it is quite plain that I could not forget what you no longer remember ;’ and the First Consul caused the sixty thousand francs of yearly income left Madame de Montesson by the Duke of Orleans, but confiscated in the Revolution, to be Eecuricc swe leatcmeatameusrceciestlesraiscd Ole Ol men tela— tives to the rank of senator. In 1805, when emperor, Na- poleon gave a life pension of six thousand francs to the son of his former protector, the Count de Marbceuf, and with it went his assurance of interest and good will in all the cir- cumstances of the young man’s life. Generous, forbearing, even tender remembrance of all who had been associated with him in his early years, was one of Napoleon’s marked characteristics. His new position at Valence was not brilliant. He had an annual income of two hundred and twenty-four dollars, and there was much hard work. It was independence, how- ever, and life opened gayly to the young officer. He made many acquaintances, and for the first time saw something of society and women. Madame Colombier, whose salon was the leading one of the town, received him, introduced him to powerful friends, and, indeed, prophesied a great future for him. The sixteen-year-old officer, in spite of his shabby clothes and big boots, became a favorite. He talked brilliantly and freely, began to find that he could please, and, for the first time, made love a little—to Mademoiselle Colombier— a frolicking boy-and-girl love, the object of whose stolen ‘suse, stosuesy Aq Sunured e wor “AONAIVA LV ALYVIVNOG eee ee 30 NAPOLEON IN PARIS 31 rendezvous was to eat cherries together. Mademoiselle Mion-Desplaces, a pretty Corsican girl in Valence, also re- ceived some attention from him. Encouraged by his good beginning, and ambitious for future success, he even began to take dancing lessons. Had there been no one but himself to think of, everything would have gone easily, but the care of his family was upon him. His father had died a few months before, February, 1785, and left his affairs in a sad tangle. Joseph, now nearly eighteen years of age, who had gone to Autun in 1779 with Napoleon, had remained there until 1785. The intention was to make him a priest; suddenly he declared that he would not be anything but a soldier. It was to undo all that had been done for him; but his father made an effort to get him into a military school. Before the ar- rangements were complete Charles Bonaparte died, and Joseph was obliged to return to Corsica, where he was pow- erless to do anything for his mother and for the four young children at home: Louis, aged nine; Pauline, seven; Caro- linemiive 7 | Crome tnt ce: Lucien, now nearly eleven years old, was at Brienne, re- fusing to become a soldier, as his family desired, and giving his time to literature; but he was not a free pupil, and the six hundred francs a year needful for him was a heavy tax. Eliza alone was provided for. She had entered St. Cyr in 1784 as one of the two hundred and fifty pupils supported there by his Majesty, and to be a demotselle de St. Cyr was to be fed, taught, and clothed, from seven to twenty, and, on leaving, to receive a dowry of three thousand francs, a trousseau, and one hundred and fifty frances for travelling expenses home. Napoleon regarded his family’s situation more seriously than did his brothers. Indeed, when at Brienne he had shown an interest, a sense of responsibility, and a good Le LIFE OF NAPOLEON judgment about the future of his brothers and sisters, quite amazing in so young a boy. When he was fifteen years old, he wrote a letter to his uncle, which, for its keen analy- sis, would do credit to the father of a family. The subject was his brother Joseph’s desire to abandon the Church and go into the king’s service. Napoleon is summing up the pros and cons: “First. As father says, he has not the courage to face the perils of an action; his health is feeble, and will not allow him to support the fatigues of a campaign; and my brother looks on the military pro- fession only from a garrison point of view. He would make a good garrison officer. He is well made, light-minded, knows how to pay compliments, and with these talents he will always get on well in society. Second. He has received an ecclesiastical education, and it is very late to undo that. Monseignor the Bishop of Autun would have given him a fat living, and he would have been sure to become a bishop. What an advantage for the family! Monseignor of Autun has done all he could to encourage him to persevere, promising that he should never repent. Should he persist, in wishing to be a soldier, I must praise him, provided he has a decided taste for his profession, the fin- est of all, and the great motive power ot human affairs. . . . He wishes to be a military man. That is all very well; but in what corps? Is it the marine? First: He knows nothing of mathematics; it would take him two years to learn. Second: His health is incompatible with the sea. Is it the engineers? He would require four or five years to learn what is necessary, and at the end of that time he would be only a cadet. Besides, working all day long would not suit him. The same reasons which apply to the engineers apply to the artillery, with this exception; that he would have to work eighteen montk: to be- come a cadet, and eighteen months more to become ani officer. . . . No doubt he wishes to join the infantry. . . . And what is the slender infantry officer? Three-fourths of the time a _ scapegrace. A last effort will be made to persuade him to enter the Church, in default of which, father will take him to Corsica, where he will be under his eye.” It was not strange that Charles Bonaparte considered the advice of a son who could write so clear-headed a letter as the one just quoted, or that the boy’s uncle Lucien said, NAPOLEON IN PARIS 33 before dying: ‘“ Remember, that if Joseph is the older, Na- poleon is the real head of the house.” Now that young Bonaparte was in an independent posi- tion, he felt still more keenly his responsibility, and it was for this reason, as well as because of ill-health, that he left hiserecinentain Hebruathys 0707 ones leave which he ex- tended to nearly fifteen months, and which he spent in ener- getic efforts to better his family’s situation, working to re- establish salt works and a mulberry plantation in which they wer eaconcerned,. toncecute tie nomination of Lucien ‘to the college at Aix, and to place Louts at a French military school. When he went back to his regiment, now stationed at Auxonne, he denied himself to send money home, and spent his leisure in desperate work, sleeping but six hours, eating but one meal a day, dressing once in the week. Like all the young men of the country who had been animated by the philosophers and encyclopedists, he had attempted literature, and at this moment was finishing a history of Corsica, a portion of which he had written at Valence and submitted to the Abbé Raynal, who had encouraged him to go on. The manuscript was completed and ready for publication in 1788, and the author made heroic efforts to find some one who would accept a dedication, as well as some one who would publish it. Before he had succeeded, events had crowded the work out of sight, and other ambitions occu- pied his forces. Napoleon had many literary projects on hand at this time. He had been a prodigious reader, and was never so happy as when he could save a few cents with which to buy second-hand books. From everything he read he made long extracts, and kept a book of “ thoughts.” Most curious are some of these fragments, reflections on the beginning of society, on love, on nature. They show that he was passionately absorbed in forming ideas on the great questions of life and its relations. 34 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Besides his history of Corsica, he had already written several fragments, among them an historical drama called the ‘‘ Count of Essex,” and a story, the “* Masque Proph- ete.” He undertook, too, to write a sentimental journey in the style of Sterne, describing a trip from Valence to Mont-Cenis. Later he competed for a prize offered by the Academy of Lyons on the subject: “ To determine what truths and feelings should be inculcated in men for their hap- piness.”” He failed in the contest; indeed, the essay was severely criticised for its incoherency and poor style. The Revolution of 1789 turned Napoleon’s mind to an ambition greater than that of writing the history of Corsica —he would free Corsica. The National Assembly had lifted the island from its inferior relation and made it a depart- ment of France, but sentiment was much divided, and the ferment was similar to that which agitated the mainland. Napoleon, deeply interested in the progress of the new liberal ideas, and seeing, too, the opportunity for a soldier and an agitator among his countrymen, hastened home, where he spent some twenty-five months out of the next two and a half years. That the young officer spent five-sixths of his time in Corsica, instead of in service, and that he in more than one instance pleaded reasons for leaves of absence which one would have to be exceedingly unsophisticated not to see were trumped up for the occasion, cannot be at- tributed merely to duplicity of character and contempt for authority. He was doing only what he had learned to do at the military schools of Brienne and Paris, and what he saw practised about him in the army. Indeed, the whole French army at that period made a business of shirking duty. Every minister of war in the period complains of the incessant de- sertions among the common soldiers. Among the officers it was no better. True, they did not desert; they held their places and—did nothing. ‘ Those who were rich and well NAPOLEON IN PARIS 35 born had no need to work,” says the Marshal Duc de Bro- elie. ** They were promoted by favoritism. Those who were poor and from/the provinces had no need to work either. It did them no good if they did, for, not having patronage, they could not advance.” The Comte de Saint-Germain oe said in regard to the officers: ‘* There is not one who is in active service; they one and all amuse themselves and look out for their own affairs.” Napoleon, tormented by the desire to help his family, goaded by his ambition and by an imperative inborn need of action and achievement, still divided in his allegiance be- tween France and Corsica, could not have been expected, in his environment, to take nothing more than the leaves al- lowed by law. Revolutionary agitation did not absorb all the time he was in Corsica. Never did he work harder for his family. The portion of this two and a half years which he spent in France, he was accompanied by Louis, whose tutor he had become, and he suffered every deprivation to help him. Na- poleon’s income at that time was sixty-five cents a day. This meant that he must live in wretched rooms, prepare himself the broth on which he and his brother dined, never go to a café, brush his own clothes, give Louis lessons. He did it bravely. “I breakfasted off dry bread, but I bolted my door on my poverty,” he said once to a young officer com- plaining of the economies he must make on two hundred dollars a month. Economy and privation were always more supportable to him than borrowing. He detested irregularities in finan- cial matters. ‘* Your finances are deplorably conducted, ap- parently on metaphysical principles. Believe me, money is a very physical thing,” he once said to Joseph, when the latter, as King of Naples, could not make both ends meet. He put Jerome to sea largely to stop his reckless expenditures. (At Eas SANA soaks ae Se ie : ae Rie Ee BONAPARTE: AT THE TUILERTES, AUGUST) LO, 1792. After a lithograph by Charlet. Lieutenant Bonaparte on the terrace of the Tuileries, watching the crowd of rioters who were hastening to the massacre of the Swiss Guards. NAPOLEON IN PARIS 37 / fifteen that young man paid three thousand two hundred dollars for a shaving case “containing everything except the beard to enable its owner to use it.”.) Some of the most furious scenes which occurred between Napoleon and Jo- sephine were because she was continually in debt. After the divorce he frequently cautioned her to be watchful of her money. “ Think what a bad opinion I should have of you if I knew you were in debt with an income of six hundred thousand dollars a year,” he wrote her in 1813. The methodical habits of Marie Louise were a constant satisfaction to Napoleon. “* She settles all her accounts once a week, deprives herself of new gowns if necessary, and im- poses privations upon herself in order to keep out of debt,” he said proudly. SP ie 9 a BONAPARTE, Engraved by Bartolozzi, R.A., an Italian engraver, resident of England, after the portrait of Appiani. THE FIRST [PTALIAN CAMPAIGN SI during your campaign, and you have beside that sent thirty in) Hurope: 44 Julys2d#hepentered lex andtitao ft July 23d he entered Cairo, after the famous battle of the Pyramids. NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS gI The French fleet had remained in Aboukir Bay after land- ing the army, and on August Ist was attacked by Nelson. Napoleon had not realized, before this battle, the power of the English on the sea. He knew nothing of Nelson’s genius. The destruction of his fleet, and the consciousness that he and his army were prisoners in the Orient, opened his eyes to the greatest weakness of France. The winter was spent in reorganizing the government of Egypt and in scientific work. Over one hundred scientists had been added to the Army of Egypt, including some of the most eminent men of the day: Monge, Geoffroy-St.-H1- laire, Berthollet, Fourier, and Denon. From their arrival every opportunity was given them to carry on their work. To stimulate them, Napoleon founded the Institute of Egypt, in which membership was granted as a reward for serv- ices. These scientists went out in every direction, pushing their investigations up the Nile as far as Philoe, tracing the bed of the old canal from Suez to the Nile, unearthing ancient monuments, making collections of the flora and fauna, ex- amining in detail the arts and industries of the people. Every- thing, from the inscription on the Rosetta Stone to the in- cubation of chickens, received their attention. On the re- turn of the expedition, their researches were published in a magnificent work called “ Description de Egypte.’ The information gathered by the French at this time gave a great impetus to the study of Egyptology, and their in- vestigations on the old Suez canal led directly to the modern work. The peaceful work of science and law-giving which Na- poleon was conducting in Egypt was interrupted by the news that the Porte had declared war against France, and that two Turkish armies were on their way to Egypt. In March he set off to Syria to meet the first. NAPOLEON AT THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS, JULY 21, 1798. Engraved by Vallot in 1838, after painting by Gros (1810). The moment chosen by the artist is that when Napoleon addressed to his soldiers that short and famous harangue, ‘* Soldiers, from the summit of these Pyramids forty centuries look down upon you.’ In the General’s escort are Murat, his head bare and his sword clasped tightly; and after him, in order, Duroc, Sulkowski, Berthier, Junot, and Eugéne de Beauharnais, then sub-lieutenant, all on horse- back. On the right are Rampon, Desaix, Bertrand, and Lasalle. This picture was ordered for the Tuileries, and was exhibited first in 1810. Napoleon gave it to one of his generals, and it did not reappear in Paris until 1832. It is now in the gallery at Versailles. Gros regarded this picture as his best work, and himself chose Vallot to engrave it. g2 NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 93 This Syrian expedition was a failure, ending in a retreat made horrible not only by the enemy in the rear, but by pestilence and heat. The disaster was a terrible disillusion for Napoleon. It ended his dream of an Oriental realm for himself, of a kingdom embracing the whole Mediterranean for France. ‘I missed my fortune at St. Jean d’Acre,” he told his brother Lucien afterward; and again, “I think my imagination died at St. Jean d’'Acre’”’ The words’are those of the man whose discouragement at a failure was as profound as his hope at success was high. As Napoleon entered Egypt from Syria, he learned that the second Turkish army was near the Bay of Aboukir. He turned against it and defeated it completely. In the ex- change of prisoners made after the battle, a bundle of French papers fell into his hands. It was the first news he had had for ten months from France, and sad news it was: Italy lost, an invasion of Austrians and Russians threatening, the Directory discredited and tottering. If the Oriental empire of his imagination had _ fallen, might it not be that in Europe a kingdom awaited him? He decided to leave Egypt at once, and with the greatest secrecy prepared for his departure. The army was turned over to Kléber, and with four small vessels he sailed for Trance on the night of August 22, 1799. On October 16th he was in Paris. For a long time nothing had been heard of Napoleon in France. The people said he had been exiled by the jealous Directory. His disappearance into the Orient had all the mystery and fascination of an Eastern tale. His sudden reappearance had something of the heroic in it. He came like a god from Olympus, unheralded, but at the critical moment. The joy of the people, who at that day certainly preferred 94 LIFE OF NAPOLEON a hero to suffrage, was spontaneous and sincere. Huis journey from the coast to Paris was a triumphal march. Le retour du héros was the word in everybody’s mouth. On every side the people cried: “* You alone can save the coun- try. It is perishing without you. Take the reins of govern- metres At Paris he found the government waiting to be over- thrown. “A brain and a sword” was all that was needed to carry out a coup d'état organized while he was still in Africa. Everybody recognized him as the man for the hour. A large part of the military force in Paris was devoted to him. His two brothers, Lucien and Joseph, were in posi- tions of influence, the former president of the Five Hundred, as one of the two chambers was called. All that was most distinguished in the political, military, legal, and artistic circles of Paris rallied to him. Among the men who sup- ported him were Talleyrand, Sieyés, Chénier, Roederer, Monge, Cambacéres, Moreau, Berthier, Murat. On the 18th Brumaire (the 9th of November), 1799, the plot culminated, and Napoleon was recognized as the tem- porary Dictator of France. The private sorrow to which Napoleon returned, was as great as the public glory. During the campaign in Egypt he had learned beyorid a doubt that Josephine’s coquetry had become open folly, and that a young officer, Hippolyte Charles, whom he had dismissed from the Army of Italy two years before, was installed at Malmaison. The liaison was so scandalous that Gohier, the president of the Direc- tory, advised Josephine to get a divorce from Napoleon and marry Charles. These rumors reached Egypt, and Napoleon, in despair, even talked them over with Eugene de Beauharnais. The boy defended his mother, and for a time succeeded in quiet- ing Napoleon’s resentment. At last, however, he learned NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 95 in a talk with Junot that the gossip was true. He lost all control of himself, and declared he would have a divorce. The idea was abandoned, but the love and reverence he had given Josephine were dead. From that time she had no empire over his heart, no power to inspire him to action or to enthusiasm. When he landed in France from Egypt, Josephine, fore- seeing a storm, started out to meet him at Lyons. Unfor- tunately she took one road and Napoleon another, and when he reached Paris at six o’clock in the morning he found no one at home. When Josephine arrived Napoleon refused to see her, and it was three days before he relented. Then his forgiveness was due to the intercession of Hortense and Eugene, to both of whom he was warmly attached. But if he consented to pardon, he could never give again the passionate affection which he once had felt for her. He ceased to be a lover, and became a commonplace, tolerant, indulgent, bourgeois husband, upon whom his wife, in matters of importance, had no influence. Josephine was hereafter the suppliant, but she never regained the noble kingdom she had despised. Napoleon’s domestic sorrow weakened in no way his activity and vigor in public affairs. He realized that, if he would keep his place in the hearts and confidence of the people, he must do something to show his strength, and peace was the gift he proposed to make to the nation. When he returned he found a civil war raging in La Vendée. Before February he had ended it. All over France brigandage had made life and property uncertain. It was stopped by his new régime. Two foreign enemies only remained at war with France me isttiaeanon no land mer eeOlrecedmthnenm peace: sal tewas refused. Nothing remained but to compel it. The Aus- trians were first engaged. ‘They had two armies in the field; “INSTALLATION OF THE COUNCIL OF STATE: AT THE PALACE OF THE PETIT LUXEMBOURG, DECEMBER 29, 1799.”’ By Auguste Conder. The Councillors of State having assembled in the hall which had been arranged for the occasion, the First Consul opened the séance and heard the oath taken by the sectional presidents—Boulay de la Meurthe (legislation), Brune (war), Defermont (finances), Ganteaume (marine), Roederer (interior). The first Consul drew up and signed two proclamations, to the French people and to the army. The Second Consul, Cambacérés, and the Third Consul, Lebrun, were present at the meeting. Locré, secrétaire-général du Conseil d’Etat, conducted the procés-verbal. This picture is at Versailles. 96 NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 97 one on the Rhine, against which Moreau was sent, the other in Italy—now lost to France—hbesieging the French shut up in Genoa. Moreau conducted the campaign in the Rhine countries with skill, fighting two successful battles, and driving his opponent from Ulm. Napoleon decided that he would himself carry on the Italian campaign, but of that he said nothing in Paris. His army was quietly brought together as a reserve force; then suddenly, on May 6, 1800, he left Paris for Geneva. Im- mediately his plan became evident. It was nothing else than to cross the Alps and fall upon the rear of the Austrians, then besieging Genoa. Such an undertaking was a veritable coup de théatre. Its accomplishment was not less brilliant than its conception. Three principal passes lead from Switzerland into Italy: Mont Cenis, the Great Saint Bernard, and the Mount Saint Gothard. The last was already held by the Austrians. The first is the westernmost, and here Napoleon directed the attention of General Melas, the Austrian commander. The central, or Mount Saint Bernard, Pass was left almost de- fenceless, and here the French army was led across, a passage surrounded by enormous difficulties, particularly for the artillery, which had to be taken to pieces and carried or dragged by the men. Save the delay which the enemy caused the French at Fort Bard, where five hundred men stopped the entire army, Napoleon met with no serious resistance in entering Italy. Indeed, the Austrians treated the force with contempt, de- claring that it was not the First Consul who led it, but an adventurer, and that the army was not made up of French, but of refugee Italians. This rumor was soon known to be false. On June 2d Na- poleon entered Milan. It was evident that a conflict was im- 98 LIFE OF NAPOLEON minent, and to prepare his soldiers Bonaparte addressed them: ‘““ Soldiers, one of our departments was in the power of the enemy; consternation was in the south of France; the greatest part of the Ligurian territory, the most faithful friends of the Republic, had been invaded. The Cisalpine Republic had again become the grotesque play- thing of the feudal régime. Soldiers, you march—and already the French territory is delivered! Joy and hope have succeeded in your country to consternation and fear. “You give back liberty and independence to the people of Genoa. You have delivered them from their eternal enemies. You are in the capital of the Cisalpine. The enemy, terrified, no longer hopes for anything, except to regain its frontiers. You have taken possession of its hospitals, its magazines, its resources. “The first act of the campaign is terminated. Every day you hear millions of men thanking you for your deeds. “ But shall it be said that French territory has been violated with impunity? Shall we allow an army which has carried fear into our families to return to its firesides? Will you run with your arms? Very well, march to the battle; forbid their retreat; tear from them the laurels of which they have taken possession; and so teach the world that the curse of destiny is on the rash who dare insult the territory of the Great People. The result of all our efforts will be spotless glory, solid peace.”’ Melas, the Austrian commander, had lost much time; but finally convinced that it was really Bonaparte who had in- vaded Italy, and that he had actually reached Milan, he ad- vanced into the plain of Marengo. He had with him an army of from fifty to sixty thousand men well supplied with artillery. Bonaparte, ignorant that so large a force was at Marengo, advanced into the plain with only a portion of his army. On June 14th Melas attacked him. Before noon the French saw that they had to do with the entire Austrian army. For hours the battle was waged furiously, but with constant loss on the side of the French. In spite of the most intrepid fighting the army gave way. “ At four o’clock in the after- noon,” says a soldier who was present, “ there remained in NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS 99 a radius of two leagues not over six thousand infantry, a thousand horse, and six pieces of cannon. A third of our army was not in condition for battle. The lack of carriages to transport the sick made another third necessary for this painful task. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, had forced a great number to withdraw. The sharp shooters for the most part had lost the direction of their regiments. “He who in these frightful circumstances would have said, ‘In two hours we shall have gained the battle, made ten thousand prisoners, taken several generals, fifteen flags, forty cannons; the enemy shall have delivered to us eleven fortified places and all the territory of beautiful Italy; they will soon defile shamefaced before our ranks; an armistice will suspend the plague of war and bring back peace into our country, —he, I say, who would have said that, would have seemed to insult our desperate situation.” The battle was won finally by the French through the fortunate arrival of Desaix with reenforcements and the imperturbable courage of the commander-in-chief. Bona- parte’s coolness was the marvel of those who surrounded him. “At the moment when the dead and the dying covered the earth, the Consul was constantly braving death. He gave his orders with his accustomed coolness, and saw the storm approach without seeming to fear it. Those who saw him, forgetting the danger that menaced them, said: * What if he should be killed? Why does he not go back?’ It 1s said that General Berthier begged him to do so. “Once General Berthier came to him to tell him that the army was giving way and that the retreat had commenced. Bonaparte said to him: ‘ General, you do not tell me that with sufficient coolness.’ This greatness of soul, this firm- ness, did not leave him in the greatest dangers. When the Fifty-ninth Brigade reached the battle-field the action NAPOLEON THE GREAT CROSSING MOUNT ST. BERNARD, MAY, 1800. Engraved by Antonio Gilbert in 1809, under the direction of Longhi, after portrait painted by David in 1805. Dedicated to the Prince Eugéne Napoleon of France, Viceroy of Italy. It was soon after his return from Marengo that Napoleon expressed a wish to be painted by David. The artist had long de- sired this work, and seized the opportunity eagerly. He asked the First Con- sul when he would pose for him. “Pose!” said Bonaparte. ‘‘ Do you suppose the great men of antiquity posed for their portraits? ”’ “But I paint you for your time, for men who have seen you. They would like to have it like you.” “Like me! It is not the perfection of the features, a pimple on the nose, which makes resemblance. It is the character of the face that should be repre- sented. No one cares whether the portraits of great men look like them or not. It is enough that their genius shines from the picture.” “I have never considered it in that way. But you are right, Citizen Consul. You need not pose: I will paint you without that.’’ David went to breakfast daily after this with Napoleon, in order to study his face, and the Consul put at his service all the garments he had worn at Marengo. It is told that David mounted Napoleon on a mule for this picture, but that the General demurred. He sprang upon his horse, and, making him rear, said to the artist, ‘‘ Paint me thus.” I0O NAPOLEON’S RETURN TO PARIS IOI was the hottest. The First Consul advanced toward them and cried: ‘Come, my brave soldiers, spread your banners; the moment has come to distinguish yourselves. I count on your courage to avenge your comrades.” At the mo- ment that he pronounced these words, five men were struck down near him. He turned with a tranquil air towards the enemy, and said: “Come, my friends, charge them.’ [had curiosity enough to listen attentively to his voice, to examine his features. The most courageous man, the hero the most eager for glory, might have been overcome in his situation without any one blaming him. But he was not. In these frightful moments, when fortune seemed to desert shim, he was peziage fond Savona to Piedmont; the bridges of Jena, Austerlitz, Des Arts, Sevres, Tours, Roanne, Lyons, Turin; of the Isére, of the Durance, of Bordeaux, of Rouen, etc. ; the canal which connects the Rhine with the Rhone by the Doubs, and thus unites the North Sea with the Mediterranean; the canal which joins the Scheldt with the Somme, and thus joins Paris and Amsterdam; the canal which unites the Rance to the Vilaine; the canal of Arles; that of Pavia, and the canal of the Rhine; the draining of the marshes of Bourgoin, of the Cotentin, of Rochefort; the rebuilding of the greater part of the churches destroyed by the Revolution; the build- ing of others: the institution of numerous establishments of NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 115 industry for the suppression of mendicity; the gallery at the Louvre; the construction of public warehouses, of the Bank, of the canal of the Ourcq; the distribution of water in the city of Paris; the numerous drains, the quays, the embellish- ments, and the monuments of that large capital; the works for the embellishment of Rome; the reestablishment of the manufactures of Lyons; the creation of many hundreds of manufactories of cotton, for spinning and for weaving, which employ several millions of workmen; funds accumu- lated to establish upwards of four hundred manufactories of sugar from beet-root, for the consumption of part of France, and which would have furnished sugar at the same price as the West Indies, if they had continued to receive encouragement for only four years longer; the substitution of woad for indigo, which would have been at last brought to a state of perfection in France, and obtained as good and as cheap as the indigo from the colonies; numerous manufactories for all kinds of objects of art, etc.; fifty mil- lions expended in repairing and beautifying the palaces be- longing to the Crown; sixty millions in furniture for the palaces belonging to the Crown in France, in Holland, at Turin, and at Rome; sixty millions of diamonds for the Crown, all purchased with Napoleon’s money; the Regent (the only diamond that was left belonging to the former diamonds of the Crown) withdrawn from the hands of the Jews at Berlin, in whose hands it had been left as a pledge for three millions. The Napoleon Museum, valued at up- wards of four hundred millions, filled with objects legiti- mately acquired, either by moneys or by treaties of peace known to the whole world, by virtue of which the chefs- d oeuvres, it contains were given in lieu of territory or of contributions. Several millions amassed to be applied to the encouragement of agriculture, which is the paramount con- MEDALLION OF BONAPARTE The following inscription, written in French, by Dutertre, the official painter of the principal personages in the Egyptian ex- pediticn, appears on the reverse side of this medallion, which frames one of the most precious gems of Napoleonic iconogra- phy. “I, Dutertre, made this drawing of the general-in-chief from nature, on board the vessel ‘ L’Orient,’ during the crossing of the expedition to Egypt in the year VII. (sic) of the Repub- lic." A short time ago the drawing came into the possession of the Versailles Museum. 116 NAPOLEON AS A STATESMAN 117 sideration for the interest of France; the introduction into France of merino sheep, etc. These form a treasure of several thousand millions which will endure for ages.” Napoleon himself looked on these achievements as his most enduring monument. ‘ The allied powers cannot take Sroniwimeshereditem a hestold. © Meara/s) theoreat public works I have executed, the roads which I made over the Alps, and the seas which I have united. They cannot place their feet to improve where mine have not been before. They cannot take from me the code of laws which | formed, and wnich will go down to posterity.” MOREAU, ABOUT I80O1. Engraved by Elizabeth G. Berhan, after Guérin. 118 Clabwe aia aie RETURN: OF THE EMIGRES—THE. CONCORDAT—LEGION OF HONOR—CODE NAPOLEON UT there were wounds in the French nation more pro- found than those caused by lack of credit, by neglect and corruption. The body which in 1789 made up France had, in the last ten years, been violently and hor- ribly wrenched asunder. One hundred and fifty thousand of the richest, most cultivated, and most capable of the popu- lation had been stripped of wealth and position, and had emigrated to foreign lands. Napoleon saw that if the émigrés could be reconciled, he at once converted a powerful enemy into a zealous friend. In spite of the opposition of those who had made the Revo- lution and gained their positions through it, he accorded an amnesty to the émigrés, which included the whole one hundred and fifty thousand, with the exception of about one thousand, and this number, it was arranged, should be re- duced to five hundred in the course of a year. -More, he provided for their wants. Most of the smaller properties confiscated by the Revolution had been sold, and Napoleon insisted that those who had bought them from the state should be assured of their tenure; but in case a property had not been disposed of, he returned it to the family, though rarely in full. In case of forest lands, not over three hun- dred and seventy-five acres were given back. Gifts and positions were given to many émigrés, so that the majority were able to live in ease. 119 120 LIFE OF NAPOLEON A valuable result of this policy of reconciliation was the amount of talent, experience, and culture which he gained for the government. France had been run for ten years by country lawyers, doctors, and pamphleteers, who, though they boasted civic virtue and eloquence, and though they knew their Plutarch and Rousseau by heart, had no prac- tical sense, and little or no experience. The return of the émigrés gave France a body of trained diplomats, judges, and thinkers, many of whom were promptly admitted to the government. More serious than the amputation of the aristocracy had been that of the Church. The Revolution had torn it from the nation, had confiscated its property, turned its cathedrals into barracks, its convents and seminaries into town halls and prisons, sold its lands, closed its schools and hospitals. It had demanded an oath of the clergy which had divided the body, and caused thousands to emigrate. Not content with this, it had tried to supplant the old religion, first with a worship of the Goddess of Reason, afterwards with one of the Supreme Being. But the people still loved the Catholic Church. The mass of them kept their crucifixes in their houses, told their beads, observed fast days. No matter how severe a penalty was attached to the observance of Sunday instead of the day which had replaced it, called the “ decade,’ at heart the people remembered it. “‘ We rest on the decade,” said a workman once, “ but we change our shirts on Sunday.” Napoleon understood the popular heart, and he proposed the reestablishment of the Catholic Church. The Revo- lutionists, even his warmest friends among the generals, opposed it. Infidelity was a cardinal point in the creed of the majority of the new régime. They not only rejected the Church, they ridiculed it. Rather than restore Catholi- RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 121 cism, they advised Protestantism. ‘ But,’ declared Na- poleon, * France is not Protestant; she is Catholic.” In the Council of State, where the question was argued, he said: ** My policy is to govern men as the greatest number wish to be governed. . . . I carried on the war of Ven- dee by becoming a Catholic; I established myself in Egypt by becoming a Mussulman; I won over the priests in Italy by becoming Ultramontane. If I governed Jews I should reestablish the temple of Solomon... . . It is thus, I think, that the sovereignty of the people should be under- stood.” Evidently this was a very different way of understanding that famous doctrine from that which had been in vogue, which consisted in forcing the people to accept what each idealist thought was best, without consulting their preju- dices or feelings. In spite of opposition, Napoleon’s will prevailed, and in the spring of 1802 the Concordat was signed. This treaty between the Pope and France is still in force in France... It makes the Catholic Church the state church, allows the government to name the bishops, com- pels it to pay the salaries of the clergy, and to furnish cathedrals and churches for public worship, which, how- ever, remain national property. The Concordat provided for the absolution of the priests who had married in the Revolution, restored Sunday, and made legal holidays of certain féte days. This arrangement was not made at the price of intolerance towards other bodies. The French government protects and contributes towards the support of all religions within its bounds, Catholic, Protestant, Jew, or Mohammedan. The Concordat was ridiculed by many in the government and army, but undoubtedly it was one of the most statesmanlike measures carried out by Napoleon. “The joy of the overwhelming majority of France *SoypIesio A Jl SI [PUTSIIO ‘LVGYOINOD dO WL “pretay Ag ONINDOIS Q ia] RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 123 silenced even the boldest malcontents,” says Pasquier; “ it became evident that Napoleon, better than those who sur- rounded him, had seen into the depths of the nation’s heart.” It 1s certain that in reestablishing the Church Napoleon did not yield to any religious prejudice, although the Cath- olic Church was the one he preferred. It was purely a ques- tion of policy. In arranging the Concordat he might have secured more liberal measures—measures in which he be- lieved—but he refused them. “Do you wish me to manufacture a religion of caprice for my own special use, a religion that would, be nobody’s? I do not so under- stand matters. What I want is the old Catholic religion, the only one which is imbedded in every heart, and from which it has never been torn. This religion alone can conciliate hearts in my favor; it alone can smooth away all obstacles.” Inpaiscussinestuencupject at, ot: iielena hesaid to Las Cases: “When I came to the head of affairs, I had already formed certain ideas on the great principles which hold society together. I had weighed all the importance of religion; I was persuaded of it. and I and resolved to reestablish it. You would scarcely believe in the diffi- culties that I had to restore Catholicism. I would have been followed much more willingly if I had unfurled the banner of Protestantism. It is sure that in the disorder to which I succeeded, in the ruins where I found myself, I could choose between Catholicism and Protestantism. And it is true that at that moment the disposition was in favor of the latter. But outside the fact that I really clung to the religion in which I had been born, I had the highest motives to decide me. By proclaiming Protestantism, what would I have obtained? I should have created in France two great parties about equal, when I wished there should be longer but one. I should have excited the fury of religious quarrels, when the enlightenment of the age and my de- sire was to make them disappear altogether. These two parties in tearing each other to pieces would have annihilated France and render- ed her the slave of Europe, when I was ambitious of making her its mistress. With Catholicism I arrived much more surely at my great results. Within, at home, the great number would absorb the small, and I promised myself to treat with the latter so liberally that it would soon have no motive for knowing the difference. 124 LIFE OF NAPOLEON “Without, Catholicism saved me the Pope; and with my influences and our forces in Italy I did not despair sooner or later, by one way or another, of finishing by ruling the Pope myself.” When the Church fell in France, the whole system of education went down with her. The Revolutionary govern- ments tried to remedy the condition, but beyond many plans and speeches little had been done. Napoleon allowed the religious bodies to reopen their schools, and thus primary instruction was soon provided again; and he founded a num- ber of secondary and special schools. The greatest of his educational undertakings was the organization of the Uni- versity. This institution was centralized in the head of the state as completely as every other Napoleonic institution. It exists to-day but little: changed—a most efficient body, in spite of its rigid state control. This university did noth- ing for woman. ‘IT do not think we need trouble ourselves with any plan of instruction for young females,’ Napoleon told the Council. “They cannot be brought up better than by their mothers. Public education is not suitable for them, because they are never called upon to act in public. Manners are all in all to them, and marriage is all they look to. In times past the monastic life was open to women; they espoused God, and, though society gained little by that alliance, the parents gained by pocketing the dowry.”’ It was with the education of the daughters of soldiers, civil functionaries, and members of the Legion of Honor, who had died and left their children unprovided for, that he concerned himself, establishing schools of which the well-known one at St. Denis is a model. The rules were prepared by Napoleon himself, who insisted that the girls should be taught all kinds of housework and needlework— everything, in fact, which would make them good house- keepers and honest women. RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 125 The military schools were also reorganized at this time. Remembering his own experience at the Ecole Militaire, Na- poleon arranged that the severest economy should be prac- tised in them, and that the pupils should learn to do every- thing for themselves. They even cleaned, bedded, and shod their own horses. The destruction of the old system of privileges and honors left the government without any means of rewarding those who rendered it a service. Napoleon presented a law for a Legion of Honor, under control of the state, which should admit to its membership only those who had done some- thing of use to the public. The service might be military, commercial, artistic, humanitarian; no limit was put on its nature; anything which helped France in any way was to be rewarded by membership in the proposed order. In fact, it was the most democratic distinction possible, since the same reward was given for all classes of service and to all classes of people. Now the Revolutionary spirt spurned all distinction; and as free discussion was allowed on the law, a severe arraign- ment of it was made. Nevertheless, it passed. It i1m- mediately became a power in the hands of the First Consul, and such it has remained until to-day in the government. Though it has been frequently abused, and never, perhaps, more flagrantly than by the present Republic, unquestion- ably the French “ red button ”’ is a decoration of which to be proud. The greatest civil achievement of Napoleon was the codi- fication of the laws. Up to the Revolution, the laws of France had been in a misty, incoherent condition, feudal in their spirit, and by no means uniform in their application. The Constituent Assembly had ordered them revised, but the work had only been begun. Napoleon believed justly that the greatest benefit he could render France would be ING THE CONSULAR GUARDS IN THE COURT OF THE TUILERIES, REVIEW NAPOLEON 1800 1er. lasqueri N by J. ing int after a pa Dye Ce eburner: ’ Engraved in London 126 RETURN OF THE EMIGRES oy) to give her a complete and systematic code. He organized the force for this gigantic task, and pushed revision with unflagging energy. His part in the work was interesting and important. After the laws had been well digested and arranged in pre- liminary bodies, they were submitted to the Council of State. It was in the discussion before this body that Napoleon took part. That a man of thirty-one, brought up as a soldier, and having no legal training, could follow the discussions of such a learned and serious body as Napoleon’s Council of State always was, seems incredible. In fact, he prepared for each session as thoroughly as the law-makers themselves. His habit was to talk over, beforehand generally with Cambacérés and Portalis, two legislators of great learning and clearness of judgment, all the matters which were to come up. “He examined each question by itself,’ says Roederer, “inquiring into all the authorities, times, experiences; de- manding to know how it had been under ancient jurispru- dence, under Louis XIV., or Frederick the Great. When a bill was presented to the First Consul, he rarely failed to ask these questions: Is this bill complete? Does it cover every case Why have you not thought of this? Is that necessary Is it right or useful? What is done nowadays and else- where? ”’ At night, after he had gone to bed, he would read or have read to him authorities on the subject. Such was his capac- ity for grasping any idea, that he would come to the Council with a perfectly clear notion of the subject to be treated, and a good idea of its historical development. ‘Thus he could follow the most erudite and philosophical arguments, and could take part in them. He stripped them at once of all conventional phrases and learned terms, and stated clearly what they meant. He had no use for anything but the plain 128 LIFE OF NAPOLEON meaning. By thus going directly to the practical sense of a thing, he frequently cleared up the ideas of the revisers them- selves. | In framing the laws, he took care that they should be worded so that everybody could understand them. Thus, when a law relating to liquors was being prepared, he urged that wholesale and retail should be defined in such a way that they would be definite ideas to the people. “ Pot and pint must be inserted,” he said. ‘‘ There is no objection to those words. An excise act isn’t an epic poem.” Napoleon insisted on the greatest freedom of speech in the discussions on the laws, just as he did on “ going straight to the point and not wasting time on idle talk.’’ This clear- headedness, energy, and grasp of subject, exercised over a body of really remarkable men, developed the Council until its discussions became famous throughout Europe. One of its wisest members, Chancellor Pasquier, says of Napoleon’s direction that “it was of such a nature as to enlarge the sphere of one’s ideas, and to give one’s faculties all the de- velopment of which they were capable. The highest legisla- tive, administrative, and sometimes even political matters were taken up in it (the Council). Did we not see, for two consecutive winters, the sons of foreign sovereigns come and complete their education in its midst? ”’ It was the genius of the head of the state, however, which was the most impressive feature of the Council of State. De Molleville, a former minister of Louis XVI., said once to Las Cases: “Tt must be admitted that your Bonaparte, your Napoleon, was a very extraordinary man. We were far from understanding him on the other side of the water. We could not refuse the evidence of his victories and his invasions, it is true; but Genseric, Attila, Alaric had done as much; so he made more of an impression of terror on me than of admiration. But when I came here and followed the discussions on the civil code, from that moment I had nothing but profound veneration RETURN OF THE EMIGRES 129 for him. But where in the world had he learned all that? And then every day I discovered something new in him. Ah, sir, what a man you had there! Truly, he was a prodigy.”’ The modern reader who looks at France and sees how her University, her special schools, her hospitals, her great honorary. legion, her treaty with the Catholic Church, her code of laws, her Bank—the vital elements of her life, in short—are as they came from Napoleon’s brain, must ask, with De Molleville, How did he do it—he a foreigner, born in a half-civilized island, reared 1n a military school, without diplomatic or legal training, without the prestige of name or wealth? How could he make a nation? How could he be other than the barbaric conqueror the English and the émigres first thought him. Those who look at Napoleon’s achievements, and are either dazzled or horrified by them, generally consider his power superhuman. They call it divine or diabolic, accord- ine tor the teelinoshe inspires: i them; but, ain reality, the qualities he showed in his career as a statesman and law- giver are very human ones. His stout grasp on subjects; his genius for hard work; his power of seeing everything that should be done, and doing it himself; his unparalleled audacity, explain his civil achievements. The comprehension he had of questions of government was really the result of serious thinking. He had reflected from his first days at Brienne; and the active interest he had taken in the Revolution of 1789 had made him familiar with many social and political questions. His career in Italy, which was almost as much a diplomatic as a military career, had furnished him an experience upon which he had founded many notions. In his dreams of becoming an Oriental law- giver he had planned a system of government of which he was to be the centre. Thus, before the 18th Brumaire made him the Dictator of France, he had his ideas of centralized o aS: cect BONAPARTE, ¥® CONSUL DE LA REP. FRANC. NAPOLEON WHILE FIRST CONSUL OF FRANCE. Engraved in 1801 by Audouin, after a design by Bouillon. 130 RETORN OF THE EMIGRES 131 government all formed, just as, before he crossed the Great Saint Bernard, he had fought, over and over, the battle of Marengo, with black- and red-headed pins stuck into a great map of Italy spread out on his study floor. His habit of attending to everything himself explains much of his success. No detail was too small for him, no task too menial. If a thing needed attention, no matter whose business it was, he looked after it. Reading letters once before Madame Junot, she said to him that such work must be tiresome, and advised him to give it to a secretary. “ Later, perhaps,” he said, ‘ Now it is impossible; I must answer for all. It is not at the beginning of a return to order that I can afford to ignore a need, a demand.” He carried out this policy literally. When he went ona journey, he looked personally after every road, bridge, public building, he passed, and his letters teemed with orders about repairs here, restorations there. He looked after individuals in the same way; ordered a pension to this one, a position to that one, even dictating how the gift should be made known so as to offend the least possible the pride of the recipient. When it came to foreign policy, he told his diplomats how they should look, whether it should be grave or gay, whether they should discuss the opera or the political situation. The cost of the soldiers’ shoes, the kind of box Josephine took at the opera, the style of architecture for the Made- leine, the amount of stock left on hand in the silk factories, the wording of the laws, all was his business. He thought of the flowers to be scattered daily on the tomb of General Régnier, suggested the idea of a battle hymn to Rouget de ’Isle, told the artists what expression to give him in their portraits, what accessories to use in the battle pieces, ordered everything, verified everything. “ Beside him,’ said those who looked on in amazement, “the most punctilious clerk would have been a bungler.”’ 132 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Without an extraordinary capacity for work, no man could have done this. Napoleon would work until eleven o'clock in the evening, and be up again at three in the morning. Frequently he slept but an hour, and came back as fresh as ever. No secretary could keep up to him, and his ministers sometimes went to sleep in the Council, worn out with the length of the session. “Come, citizen min- isters,” he would cry, “-we must earn the money the French nation gives us.”” The ministers rarely went home from the meetings that they did not find a half-dozen letters from him on their tables to be answered, and the answer must be a clear, exact, exhaustive document. ‘‘ Get your information so that when you do answer me, there shall be no ‘ buts,’ no ‘ifs,’ and no * becauses,’”’ was the rule Napoleon laid down to his correspondents. He had audacity. He dared do what he would. He had no conventional notions to tie him, no master to dictate to him. The Revolution had swept out of his way the accumu- lated experience of centuries—all the habits, the prejudices, the ways of doing things. He commenced nearer the bottom than any man in the history of the civilized worid had ever done, worked with imperial self-confidence, with a convic- tion that he ‘“‘ was not like other men; ”’ that the moral laws, the creeds, the conventions, which applied to them, were not for him. He might listen to others, but in the end he dared do as he would. Cis WeAL red. OPPOSITION TO THE CENTRALIZATION OF THE GOVERNMENT —-GHINERAL PROSPERITY HE centralization of France in Napoleon’s hands was not to be allowed to go on without interference. Jacobinism, republicanism, royalism, were deeply- rooted sentiments, and it was not long before they began to struggle for expression. Early in the Consulate, plots of many descriptions were unearthed. The most serious before 1803 was that known asmtncwe sO pctam lot eotumelOteote tie Sd) Nivose i(e- cember 24, 1800), when a bomb was placed in the street, to be exploded as the First Consul’s carriage passed. By an accident he was saved, and, in spite of the shock, went on to the opera. Madame Junot, who was there, gives a graphic descrip- tion of the way the news was received by the house: “The first thirty measures of the oratorio were scarcely played, when a strong explosion like a cannon was heard. ““* What does that mean?’ exclaimed Junot with emotion. He open- ed the door of the loge and looked into the corridor. . . .‘It is strange; how can they be firing cannon at this hour?’ And then ‘I should have known it. Give me my hat; I am going to find out what it is. x “At this moment the loge of the First Consul opened, and he him- self appeared with Generals Lannes, Lauriston, Berthier, and Duroc. Smiling, he saluted the immense crowd, which mingled cries like those of love with its applause. Madame Bonaparte followed him in a few seconds. “Junot was going to enter the Joge to see for himself the serene air 133 134 LIFE OF NAPOLEON of the First Consul that I had just remarked, when Duroc came up to us with troubled face. “*The First Consul has just escaped death, he said quickly to Junot. ‘Go down and see him; he wants to talk to you” . . . But a dull sound commenced to spread from parterre to orchestra, from orchestra to amphitheatre, and thence to the loges. ““ The First Consul has just been attacked in the Rue Saint Nicaise,’ it was whispered. Soon the truth was circulated in the salle; at the same instant, and as by an electric shock, one and the same acclama- tion arose, one and the same look enveloped Napoleon, as if in a pro- tecting love. “What agitation preceded the explosion of national anger which was represented in that first quarter of an hour, by that crowd whose fury for so black an attack could not be expressed by words! Women sobbed aloud, men shivered with indigmation. Whatever the banner they followed, they were united heart and arm in this case to show that differences of opinion did not bring with them differences in un- derstanding honor.” It was such attempts, and suspicion of like ones, that led to the extension of the police service. One of the ablest and craftiest men of the Revolution became Napoleon’s head of police in the Consulate, Fouche. A consummate actor and skilful flatterer, hampered by no conscience other than the duty of keeping in place, he acted a curious and entertaining part. Detective work was for him a game which he played with intense relish. He was a veritable amateur of plots, and never gayer than when tracing them. Napoleon admired Fouche, but he did not trust him, and, to offset him, formed a private police to spy on his work. He never succeeded in finding anyone sufficiently fine to match the chief, who several times was malicious enough to contrive plots himself, to excite and mislead the private agents. The system of espionage went so far that letters were regularly opened. It was commonly said that those who did not want their letters read, did not send them by post; and though it was hardly necessary, as in the Revolution, to send them in pies, in coat-linings, or hat-crowns, yet care OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 135 and prudence had to be exercised in handling all political letters. It was difficult to get officials for the post-office who could be relied on to intercept the proper letters; and in 1802, the Postmaster-General, Monsieur Bernard, the father of the beautiful Madame Recamier, was found to be concealing an active royalist correspondence, and to be permitting the circulation of a quantity of seditious pamphlets. His arrest and imprisonment made a great commotion in his daughter’s circle, which was one of social and intellectual importance. Through the intercessions of Bernadotte, Monsieur Ber- nard was pardoned by Napoleon. The cabinet noir, as the department of the post-office which did this work was called, was in existence when Napoleon came to the Consulate, and he rather restricted than increased its operations. It has never been entirely given up, as many an inoffensive for- eigner in France can testify. The theatre and press were also subjected to a strict cen- sorship. In 1800 the number of newspapers in Paris was reduced to twelve; and in three years there were but eight left, with a total subscription list of eighteen thousand six hundred and thirty. Napoleon’s contempt for journalists and editors equalled that he had for lawyers, whom he called a“ heap of babblers and revolutionists.’’ Neither class could, in his judgment, be allowed to go free. The salons were watched, and it is certain that those whose /habitués criticised Napoleon freely were reported. One serious rupture resulted from the supervision of the salons, that with Madame de Staél. She had been an ardent admirer of Napoleon in the beginning of the Consulate, and Bourrienne tells several amusing stories of the disgust Napoleon showed at the letters of admiration and sentiment which she wrote him even so far back as the Italian cam- paign. If the secretary is to be believed, Madame de Staél ‘* THE GENERAL OF THE GRAND ARMY.” This pencil portrait by David is nothing but a rapid sketch, but its iconographic in- terest is undeniable. David doubtless exe- cuted this design towards the end of 1797, after Bonaparte’s’ return from Italy.) It belongs to Monsieur Cheramy, a _ Paris lawyer.—A. D. 136 OPPOSITION VITO CENTRALIZATION 137 told Napoleon, in one of these letters, that they were cer- tainly created for each other, that it was an error in human institutions that the mild and tranquil Josephine was united to his tate, that nature evidently had intended for a hero such as he, her own soul of fire. Napoleon tore the letter to pieces, and he took pains thereafter to announce with great bluntness to Madame de Stael, whenever he met her, his own notions of women, which certainly were anything but ‘* modern.”’ Pio ties centralization sOlw tie, spovernment ancreased, Madame de Stael and her friends criticized Napoleon more freély and sharply than they would have done, no doubt, had she not been incensed by his personal attitude towards her. ‘This hostility increased until, in 1803, the First Con- sul ordered her out of France. “ The arrival of this woman, like that of a bird of omen, has always been the signal for some trouble,” he said in giving the order. “It is not my intention to allow her to remain in France.”’ In 1807 this order was repeated, and many of Madame de Stael’s friends were included in the proscription: ‘“T have written to the Minister of Police to send Madame de Staél to Geneva. This woman continues her trade of intriguer. She went near Paris in spite of my orders. She is a veritable plague. Speak seriously to the Minister, for I shall be obliged to have her seized by the gendarmerie. Keep an eye upon Benjamin Constant; if he med- dles with anything I shall send him to his wife at Brunswick. I will not tolerate this clique.” But when one compares the policy of restriction during the Consulate with what it had been under the old régime and during the Revolution, it certainly was far in advance in liberty, discretion, and humanity. The republican govern- ment to-day, in its repression of anarchy, and socialism has acted with less wisdom and less respect for freedom of thought than Napoleon did at this period of his career; and that, too, in circumstances less complicated and critical. 138 LIFE OF NAPOLEON If there were still dull rumors of discontent, a cabinet noir, a restricted press, a censorship over the theatre, pro- scriptions, even imprisonments and executions, on the whole France was happy. “Not only did the interior wheels of the machine com- mence to run smoothly,’ says the Duchesse d’Abranteés, “but the arts themselves, that most peaceful part of the in- terior administration, gave striking proofs of the returning prosperity of France. The exposition at the Salon that year (1800) was remarkably fine. Guérin, David, Gérard, Giro- det, a crowd of great talents, spurred on by the emulation which always awakes the fire of genius, produced works which must some time place our school at a high rank.” The art treasures of Europe were pouring into France. Under the direction of Denon, that indefatigable dilettante and student, who had collected in the expedition in Egypt more entertaining material than the whole Institute, and had written a report of it which will alwavs be preferred to the “Great Work,” the galleries of Paris were reorganized and opened two days of the week to the people. Napoleon in- augurated this practice himself. Not only was Paris sup- plied with galleries; those department museums which to- day surprise and delight the tourist in France were then created at Angers, Antwerp, Autun, Bordeaux, Brussels, Caen, Dijon, Geneva, Grenoble, Le Mans, Lille, Lyons, Mayence, Marseilles, Montpellier, Nancy, Nantes, Rennes, Rouen, Strasburg, Toulouse, and Tours. The prix de Rome, for which there had been no money in the treasury for some time, was reestablished. Every effort was made to stimulate scientific research. The case of Volta is one to the point. In 1801 Bonaparte called the eminent physicist to Paris to repeat his experi- ments before the Institute. He proposed that a medal should be given him, with a sum of money, and in his honor he es- OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 139 tablished a prize of sixty thousand francs, to be awarded to any one who should make a discovery similar in value to Volta’s.* An American—Robert Fulton—was about the same time encouraged by the First Consul. Fulton was experimenting with his submarine torpedo and diving boat, and for four years had been living in Paris and besieging the Directory to grant him attention and funds. Napoleon took the matter up as soon as Fulton brought it to him, ordered a commission appointed to look into the invention, and a grant of ten thousand francs for the necessary ex- periments. The Institute was reorganized, and to encourage science and the arts he founded, in 1804, twenty-two prizes, nine of which were of ten thousand francs each, and thirteen of five thousand francs each. They were to be awarded every ten years by the emperor himself, on the 18th Brumaire. The first distribution of these prizes was to have taken place in 1809, but the judges could not agree on the laureates; and before a conclusion was reached, the empire had fallen. In literature and in music, as in art and science, there was a renewal of activity. A circle of poets and writers gathered * The Volta prize has been awarded only three or four times. An award of particular interest to Americans was that made in 1880 to Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone. The amount of the prize was a little less than ten thousand dollars. Dr. Bell, being already in affluent circumstances, upon receiving this prize, set it apart to be used for the benefit of the deaf, in whose welfare he had for many years taken a great interest. He invested it in another invention of his, which proved to be very profitable, so that the fund came to amount to one hundred thousand dollars. This he termed the Volta Fund. Some of this fund has been applied by Dr. Bell to the organization of the Volta Bureau, which collects all valuable information that can be obtained with reference to not only deaf-mutes as a class, but to deaf-mutes in- dividually. Twenty-five thousand dollars has been given to the As- sociation for the Promotion of Teaching Speech to the Deaf. Napoleon is thus indirectly the founder of one of the most interesting and valuable present undertakings of the country. qd "WV oyredvuog Jo suol[epewt paipuny Use,IIY} pue sjsnq poiIpuny Ino} UeY} IIOW poonpoid AIOJC} JY} Xe 1vdA OY} JO pud OY} OF} “JA tvok 9} JO JUSUTIDUIIUMOD BY} WOT, FEY} SMOYS YOIYM JUSUINIOP [LIOYFO uv oul ‘wWsy} JO uoIsnyIp pur uor1jonpoird oq} peIseinoous ‘Q1oyMAIIAO QOEF SIY 99S O} SHOTXUP ‘gu1ed a19joq oAey | -euog pure ‘potiod zejnsuood oy ut A[[etsedsa ‘sjsnq yons Auevw psonpord satAgG fo Atoyoejnueut syf, “jozlog 0} ponte st ‘OM} J9YIO 9Y} 0} JoIodNs YONU st YOM “jst YF, “FINOSIG SaTAIG UL 91B S}snq soso, “IOSNOOD “IVUYENGD SV ALUVdYNOG ‘“ALNLILSNI YWHL AO WHaeWaW 140 OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION 141 about the First Consul. Paisiello was summoned to Paris to direct the opera and conservatory of music. There was a revival of dignity and taste in strong contrast to the license and carelessness of the Revolution. The imcroyable passed away. The Greek costume disappeared from the street. Men and women began again to dress, to act, to talk, ac- cording to conventional forms. Society recovered its sys- tematic ways of doing things, and soon few signs of the general dissolution which had prevailed for ten years were to be seen. Once more the traveller crossed France 1n peace; peasant and laborer went undisturbed about their work, and slept without fear. Again the people danced in the ‘fields and “sang their songs as they had in the days before the Revo- lution.” “ France has nothing to ask from Heaven,” said Regnault de Saint Jean d’Angely, “but that the sun may continue to shine, the rain to fall on our fields, and the earth to render the seed fruitful.” i NL, Me REINO EN S EN oS Seay SASS i Se eA NAPOLEON IN 1803. Painted by A. Gérard in 1803. Engraved by Richomme in 1835. 142 (CAPER PREPARATIONS FOR WAR WITH, ENGLAND—FLOTILLA AT BOULOGNE—SALE OF LOUISIANA N the spring of 1803 the treaty of Amiens, which a year before had ended the long war with England, was broken. | Both countries had many reasons for com- plaint. Napoleon was angry at the failure to evacuate Malta. The perfect freedom allowed the press in England gave the pamphleteers and caricaturists of the country an opportunity to criticize and ridicule him. He complained bitterly to the English ambassadors of this free press, an institution in his eyes impractical and idealistic. He complained, too, of the hostile émigrés allowed to collect in Jersey ; of the presence in England of such a notorious enemy of his as Georges Cadou- dal; and of the sympathy and money the Bourbon princes and many nobles of the old régime received in London society. Then, too, he regarded the country as his natural and in- evitable enemy. England to Napoleon was only a little island which, like Corsica and Elba, naturally belonged to France, and he considered it part of his business to get possession of her. England, on the other hand, looked with distrust at the extension of Napoleon’s influence on the Continent. North- ern Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Parma, Elba, were under his protectorate. She had been deeply offended by a report published in Paris, on the condition of the Orient, in which the author declared that with six thousand men the French could reconquer Egypt; she resented the violent articles in 143 144 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the official press of Paris in answer to those of the free press of England; her aristocratic spirit was irritated by Na- poleon’s success; she despised this parvenu, this ** Corsican scoundrel,’ as Nelson called him, who had had the hardihood to rise so high by other than the conventional methods for getting on in the world which she sanctioned. Real and fancied aggressions continued throughout the year of the peace; and when the break finally came, though both nations persisted in declaring that they did not want war, both were in a thoroughly warlike mood. Napoleon’s preparations against England form one of the most picturesque military movements in his career. Un- able to cope with his enemy at sea, he conceived the auda- ious notion of invading the island, and laying siege to Lon- don itself. The plan briefly was this—to gather a great army on the north shore of France, and in some port a flotilla suf- ficient to transport it to Great Britain. In order to prevent interference with this expedition, he would keep the enemy’s fleet occupied in the Mediterranean, or in the Atlantic, until the critical moment. Then, leading the English naval com- mander by stratagem in the wrong direction, he would call his own fleet to the Channel to protect his passage. He counted to be in London, and to have compelled the English to peace, before Nelson could return from the chase he would have led him. The preparations began at once. ‘The port chosen for the flotilla was Boulogne; but the whole coast from Antwerp to the mouth of the Seine bristled with iron and bronze. Between Calais and Boulogne, at Cape Gris Nez, where the navigation was the most dangerous, the batteries literally touched one another. Fifty thousand men were put to work at the stupenduous excavations necessary to make the ports large enough to receive the flotilla. Large num- bers of troops were brought rapidly into the neighborhood: PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 145 fifty thousand men to Boulogne, under Soult; thirty thou- sand to Etaples, under Ney; thirty thousand to Ostend, under Davoust; reserves to Arras, Amiens, Saint-Omer. The work of preparing the flat-bottomed boats, or wal- nut-shells, as the English called them, which were to carry over the army, went on in all the ports of Holland and France, as well as in interior towns situated on rivers lead- ing to the sea. The troops were taught to row, each sol- dier being obliged to practise two hours a day so that the rivers of all the north of France were dotted with land-lub- bers handling the oar, the most of them for the first time. In the summer of 1803, Napoleon went to the north to look after the work. His trip was one long ovation. Le Chemin d’ Angleterre was the inscription the people of Amiens put on the triumphal arch erected to his honor, and town vied with town in showing its joy at the proposed descent on the old-time enemy. Such was the interest of the people, that a thousand pro- jects were suggested to help on the invasion, some of them most amusing. In a learned and thoroughly serious me- morial, one genius proposed that while the flotilla was pre- paring, the sailors be employed in catching dolphins, which should be shut up in the ports, tamed, and taught to wear a harness, so as to be driven, in the water, as horses are on land. This novel power was to transport the French to the opposite side of the Channel. Napoleon occupied himself not only with the preparations at Boulogne and with keeping Nelson busy elsewhere. Every project which could possibly facilitate his under- taking or discomfit his enemies, he considered. Fulton's diving-boat, the “ Nautilus,’ and his submarine torpedoes, were at that time attracting the attention of the war de- partments of civilized countries. Already Napoleon had granted ten thousand francs to help the inventor. From the ’ GRAY REDINGOTE AND PETIT CHAPEAU WORN BY NAPOLEON, 146 PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 147 camp at Boulogne he again ordered the matter to be looked into. Fulton promised him a machine which ‘ would deliver France and the whole world from British oppression.”’ “JT have just read the project of Citizen Fulton, engineer, which you have sent me much too late,” he wrote, “ since it is one that may change the face of the world. Be that as it may, I desire that you immediately confide its examination to a commission of members chosen by you among the different classes of the Institute. There it is that learned Europe would seek for judges to resolve the question under consider- ation. A great truth, a physical, palpable truth. is before my eyes. It will be for these gentlemen to try and seize it and see it. As soon as their report is made. it will be sent to you, and you will forward it to me. Try and let the whole be determined within eight days, as I am impatient.” He had his eye on every point of the earth where he might be weak, or where he might weaken his enemy. He took possession of Hanover. The Irish were promised aid in their efforts for freedom. ** Provided that twenty thousand united Irishmen join the French army on its landing,” France is to give them in return twenty-five thousand men, forty thousand muskets, with artillery and ammunition, and a promise that the French government will not make peace with England until the independence of Ireland has been proclaimed. An attack on India was planned, his hope being that the princes of India would welcome an invader who would aid them in throwing off the English yoke. To strengthen him- self in the Orient, he sought by letters and envoys to win the confidence, as well as to inspire the awe, of the rulers of Turkey and Persia. The sale of Louisiana to the United States dates from this time. This transfer, of such tremendous importance to us, was made by Napoleon purely for the sake of hurting England. France had been in possession of Louisiana but three years. She had obtained it from Spain only on the condition that it should “‘ at no time, under no pretext, and 148 LIFE OF NAPOLEON in no manner, be alienated or ceded to any other power.” The formal stipulation of the treaties forbade its sale. But Napoleon was not of a nature to regard a treaty, if the in- terest of the moment demanded it to be broken. ‘To sell Louisiana now would remove a weak spot from France, upon which England would surely fall in the war. More, it would put a great territory, which he could not control, into the hands of a country which, he believed, would some day be a serious hinderance to English ambition. He sold the colony for the same reason that former French govern- ments had helped the United States in her struggles for 1n- dependence—to cripple England. It would help the United States, but it would hurt England. That was enough; and with characteristic eagerness he hurried through the nego- tiations. 7 “T have just given England a maritime rival which, sooner or later, will humble her pride,” he said exultingly, when the convention was signed. ‘The sale brought him twelve million dollars, and the United States assumed the French spoliation claims. This sale of Louisiana caused one of the first violent quarrels between Lucien Bonaparte and Napoleon. Lucien had negotiated the return of the American territory to France in 1800.. He had made a princely fortune out of the treaty, and he was very proud of the transaction; and when his brother Joseph came to him one evening in hot haste, with the information that the General wanted to sell Louisiana, he hurried around to the Tuileries in the morn- ing to remonstrate. Napoleon was in his bath, but, in the mode of the time, he received his brothers. He broached the subject himself, and asked Lucien what he thought. “T flatter myself that the Chambers will not give their consent.” PREPARING FOR WAR WITH ENGLAND 149 “ You flatter yourself?” said Napoleon. ‘ That’s gaod, I declare.” ‘I have already said the same to the First Consul,” cried Joseph. “And what did I answer?” said Napoleon, splashing around indignantly in the opaque water. “That you would do it in spite of the Chambers.”’ “ Precisely. I shall do it without the consent of anyone whomsoever. Do you understand? ”’ Joseph, beside himself, rushed to the bathtub, and declared that if Napoleon dared do such a thing he would put him- self at the head of an opposition and crush him in spite of their fraternal relations. So hot did the debate grow that thes First’ Gonsulsprans up shouting: ~ You are insolent! I ought ” but at that moment he slipped and fell back violently. A great mass of perfumed water drenched Joseph to the skin, and the conference broke up. An hour later, Lucien met his brother in his library, and the discussion was resumed, only to end in another scene, Napoleon hurling a beautiful snuff-box upon the floor and shattering it, while he told Lucien that if he did not cease his opposition he would crush him in the same way. These violent scenes were repeated, but to no purpose. Louisiana was sold. NAPOLEON THE GREAT ("" NAPOLEON LE GRAND’”’) IN CORONATION ROBES. 1805. Painted and engraved by order of the Emperor. Engraved by Desnoyers, after portrait painted hy Gérard in 1805. 150 Ter oR AX OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON-—-THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE——-KING OF ITALY HILE the preparation for the invasion was going on, the feeling against England was intensified by the discovery of a plot against the life of the First Consul. Georges Cadoudal, a fanatical royalist, who was accused of being connected with the plot of the 3d Nivose (December 24), and who had since been in England, had formed a gigantic conspiracy, having as its object noth- ing less than the assassination of Napoleon in broad day- light, in the streets of Paris. He had secured powerful aid to carry out his plan. The Bourbon princes supported him, and one of them was to land on the north coast and put himself at the head of the royalist sympathizers as soon as the First Consul was killed. In this plot was associated Pichegru, who had been connected with the 18th Fructidor. General Moreau, the hero of Hohen- linden, was suspected of knowing something of it. It came to light in time, and a general arrest was made of those suspected of being privy to it. The first to be tried and punished was the Duc d’Enghien, who had been seized at Ettenheim, in Baden, a short distance from the French frontier, on the supposition that he had been coming secretly to Paris to be present at the meetings of the conspirators. His trial at Vincennes was short, his execution immediate. There is good reason to believe that Napoleon had no sus- picion that the Duc d’Enghien would be executed so soon as 151 152 LIFE OF NAPOLEON he was, and even to suppose that he would have lightened the sentence if the punishment had not been pushed on with an irregularity and inhumanity that recalls the days of the error The execution was a severe blow to Napoleon’s popu- larity, both at home and abroad. Foucheé’s cynical remark was just: “ The death of the Duc d’Enghien is worse than a crime; it is a blunder.’’ Chateaubriand, who had accepted a foreign embassy, resigned at once, and a number of the old aristocracy, such as Pasquier and Molé, who had been say- ing among themselves that it was their duty to support Na- poleon’s splendid work of reorganization, went back into obscurity. In society the effect was distressing. The mem- bers of Napoleon’s own household met him with averted faces and sad countenances, and Josephine wept until he called her a child who understood nothing of politics. Abroad there was a revulsion of sympathy, particularly in the cabinets of Russia, Prussia, and Austria. The trial of Cadoudal and Moreau followed. The former with several of his accomplices was executed. Moreau was exiled for two years. Pichegru committed suicide in the Temple. This plot showed Napoleon and his friends that a Jacobin or royalist fanatic might any day end the life upon which the scheme of reorganization depended. It is true he had already been made First Consul for life by a practically unanimous vote, but there was need of strengthening his position and providing a succession. In March, six days after the death of the Duc d’Enghien, the Senate proposed to him that he complete his work and take the throne. In April the Council of State and the Tribunate took up the discussion. The opinion of the majority was voiced by Regnault de Saint- Jean d’Angély: “It is a long time since all reasonable men, all true friends of their country, have wished that the First OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 153 Consul would make himself emperor, and reéstablish, in favor of his family, the old principles of hereditary suc- cession. It is the only means of securing permanency for his own fortune, and to the men whom merit has raised to high offices. The Republic, which I loved passionately, while I detested the crimes of the Revolution, is now in my eyes a mere Utopia. The First Consul has convinced me that he wishes to possess supreme power only to render France great, free, and happy, and to protect her against the fury ot factions.” The Senate soon after proceeded in a body to the Tuil- eries. ‘‘ You have extricated us from the chaos of the past,” said the spokesman; “* you enable us to enjoy the blessings of the present; guarantee to us the future.’ On the r&th of May, 1804, when thirty-five years old, Napoleon was first addressed as “ sire,’ and congratulated on his elevation to the throne of the French people. Immediately his household took on the forms of royalty. His mother was Madame Meére; Joseph, Grand-Elector, with the title of Imperial Highness; Louis, Constable, with the same title; his sisters were Imperial Highnesses. Titles were given to all officials; the ministers were excellencies ; Cambacérés and Le Brun, the Second and Third Consuls, beame Arch Chancellor and Arch Treasurer of the Empire. Of his generals, Berthier, Murat, Moncey, Jourdan, Mas- sena, Augureau, Bernadotte, Soult, Brune, Lannes, Mortier, Ney, Davoust, and Bessieres were made marshals. The red button of the Legion of Honor was scattered in profusion. The title of citoyen, which had been consecrated by the Revo- lution, was dropped, and hereafter everybody was called MONSIeUr. Two of Napoleon's brothers, unhappily, had no part in these honors. Jerome, who had been serving as lieutenant in the navy, had, in 1803, while in the United States, mar- 154 LIFE OF NAPOLEON ried a Miss Elizabeth Patterson of Baltimore. Napoleon forbade the recording of the marriage, and declared it void. As Jerome had not as yet given up his wife, he had no share in the imperial rewards. Lucien was likewise omitted, and for a similar reason. His first wife had died in 1801, and much against Napoleon’s wishes he had married a Madame Jouberthon, to whom he was deeply attached; nothing could induce him to renounce his wife and take the Queen of Etruria, as Napoleon wished. The result of his refusal was a violent quarrel between the brothers, and Lucien left France. : This rupture was certainly a grief to Napoleon. Madame de Remusat draws a pathetic little picture of the effect upon him of the last interview with Lucien: “It was near midnight when Bonaparte came into the room; he was deeply dejected, and, throwing himself into an arm-chair, he exclaimed in a troubled voice, ‘It is all over! I have broken with Lucien, and ordered him from my presence. Madame Bonaparte began to ex- postulate. ‘ You are a good woman.’ he said, ‘to plead for him.’ Then he rose from his chair, took his wife in his arms, and laid her head softly on his shoulder, and with his hand still resting on the beautiful head, which formed a contrast to the sad, set countenance so near it, he told us that Lucien had resisted all his entreaties, and that he had resorted equally in vain to both threats and persuasion. ‘It is hard, though,’ he added, ‘ to find in one’s own family such stubborn opposition to interests of such magnitude. Must I, then, isolate myself from every one? Must I rely on myself alone? Well! I will suffice to myself; and you, Jose- phine—you will be my comfort always.”’ A fever of etiquette seized on all the inhabitants of the imperial palace of Saint Cloud. The ponderous regulations of Louis XIV. were taken down from tthe shelves in the library, and from them a code began to be compiled. Madame Campan, who had been First Bedchamber Woman to Marie Antoinette, was summoned to interpret the solemn law, and to describe costumes and customs. Monsieur de Talleyrand, who had been made Grand Chamberlain, was an authority who was consulted on everything. OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 155 “We all felt ourselves more or less elevated,” says Madame de Rémusat. “ Vanity is ingenious in its expec- tations, and ours were unlimited. Sometimes it was disen- chanting, for a moment, to observe the almost ridiculous effect which this agitation produced upon certain classes of society. Those who had nothing to do with our brand new aignities said with Montaigne, ‘ Let us avenge ourselves by railing at them.’ Jests, more or less witty, and puns, more or less ingenious, were lavished on these new-made princes, and somewhat disturbed our brilliant visions; but the num- ber of those who dare to censure success is small, and flattery was much more common than criticism.”’ No one was more severe in matters of etiquette than Na- poleon himself. He studied the subject with the same at- tention that he did the civil code, and in much the same way. “In concert with Monsieur de Ségur,’ he wrote De Cham- pagny, “ you must write me a report as to the way in which Mister standeatmpascsagers shouldibemreceived. i 1. It will be well for you to enlighten me as to what was the practice at Versailles, and what is done at Vienna and St. Petersburg. Once my regulations adopted, everyone must conform to them. J am master, to establish what rules I like in France.” He had some difficulty with his old comrades-in-arms, who were accustomed to addressing him in the familiar second singular, and calling him Bonaparte, and who per- sisted, occasionally, even after he was “ sire,” in using the language of easy intimacy. Lannes was even removed for some time from his place near the emperor for an indiscre- tion of this kind. In August, 1804, the new emperor visited Boulogne to receive the congratulations of his army and distribute deco- rations. His visit was celebrated by a magnificent féte. Those who know the locality of Boulogne, remember, north 156 LIFE OF NAPOLEON of the town, an amphitheatre-like plain, in the centre of which is a hill. In this plain sixty thousand men were camped. On the elevation was erected a throne. Hereby stood the chair of Dagobert; behind it the armor of Francis I.; and around rose scores of blood-stained, bullet-shot flags, the trophies of Italy and Egypt. Beside the emperor was the helmet of Bayard, filled with the decorations to be distributed. Up and down the coast were the French bat- teries; in the port lay the flotilla; to the right and left stretched the splendid army. Just as the ceremonies were finished, a fleet of over a thousand boats came sailing into the harbor to join those already there, while out in the Channel English officers and sailors, with levelled glasses, watched from their vessels the splendid armament, which was celebrating its approaching descent on their shores. On December Ist the Senate presented the emperor the result of the vote taken among the people as to whether hereditary succession should be adopted. There were two thousand five hundred and seventy-nine votes against; three million five hundred and seventy-five thousand for—a vote more nearly unanimous than that for the life consulate, there being something like nine thousand against him then. The next day Napoleon was crowned at Notre Dame. The ceremony was prepared with the greatest care. Grand Master of Ceremonies de Ségur, aided by the painter David, drew up the plan and trained the court with great severity in the etiquette of the occasion. He had the widest liberty, it even being provided that “if it be indispensable, in order that the cortége arrive at Notre Dame with greater facility, to pull down some houses,” it should be done. By a master stroke of diplomacy Napoleon had persuaded Pope Pius VII. to cross the Alps to perform for him the solemn and ancient service of coronation. OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 157 Of this ceremony we have no better description than that of Madame Junot: “Who that saw Notre Dame on that memorable day can ever forget it? I have witnessed in that venerable pile the celebration of sumptuous and solemn festivals; but never did I see anything at all approximating in splendor the spectacle exhibited at Napoleon's coronation. The vaulted roof re-echoed the sacred chanting of the priests, who invoked the blessing of the Almighty on the ceremony about to be celebrated. while they awaited the arrival of the Vicar of Christ, whose throne was prepared near the altar. Along the ancient walls covered with magnifi- cent tapestry were ranged, according to their rank, the different bodies of the state, the deputies from every city; in short, the representatives of all France assembled to implore the benediction of Heaven on the sovereign of the people’s choice. The waving plumes which adorned the hats of the senators, counsellors of state, and tribunes; the splendid uniforms of the military; the clergy in all their ecclesiastical pomp; and the multitude of young and beautiful women, glittering in jewels, and arrayed in that style of grace and elegance which is only seen in Paris ;— altogether presented a picture which has, perhaps, rarely been equalled, and certainly never excelled. “The Pope arrived first; and at the moment of his entering the Ca- thedral, the anthem Tu es Petrus was commenced. His Holiness ad- vanced from the door with an air at once majestic and humble. Ere long, the firing of a cannon announced the departure of the procession from the Tuileries. From an early hour in the morning the weather had been exceeding unfavorable. It was cold and rainy, and appearances seemed to indicate that the procession would be anything but agreeable to those who joined it. But, as if by the especial favor of Providence, of which so many instances are observable in the career of Napoleon, the clouds suddenly dispersed, the sky brightened up. and the multitudes who lined the streets from the Tuileries to the Cathedral. enjoyed the sight of the procession without being, as they had anticipated, drenched by a December rain. Napoleon, as he passed along, was greeted by heartfelt expressions of enthusiastic love and attachment. “On his arrival at Notre Dame, Napoleon ascended the throne, which was erected in front of the grand altar. Josephine took her place be- side him, surrounded by the assembled sovereigns of Europe. Na- poleon appeared singularly calm. I watched him narrowly, with a view of discovering whether his heart beat more highly beneath the imperial trappings than under the uniform of the guards; but I could observe no difference, and yet I was at the distance of only ten paces from him. The length of the ceremony, however, seemed to weary him; and I saw him several times check a yawn. Nevertheless. he did everything he was “ Six. Se SS WITH THE IRON CROWN OF LOMBARDY. NAPOLEON tratti di illustri i R € Toi2setOcmoe Waite In 1, gh Ital gned and engraved by Lon Desi eM) lanl. 158 OPPOSITION TO NAPOLEON 159 required to do, and did it with propriety. When the Pope anointed him with the triple unction on his head and both hands, I fancied, from the direction of his eyes, that he was thinking of wiping off the oil rather than of anything else; and I was so perfectly acquainted with the work- ings of his countenance, that I have no hesitation in saying that was really the thought that crossed his mind at that moment. During the ceremony of anointing, the Holy Father delivered that impressive prayer which concluded with these words: ‘ Diffuse, O Lord, by my hands, the treasures of your grace and benediction on your servant Napoleon, whom, in spite of our personal unworthiness, we this day anoint em- peror, in your name. Napoleon listened to this prayer with an air of pious devotion; but just as the Pope was about to take the crown, called the Crown of Charlemagne, from the altar, Napoleon seized it, and placed it on his own head. At that moment he was really handsome, and his countenance was lighted up with an expression of which no words can convey an idea. “He had removed the wreath of laurel which he wore on entering the church, and which encircles his brow in the fine picture of Gérard. The crown was, perhaps, in itself, less becoming to him; but the ex- pression excited by the act of putting it on, rendered him perfectly handsome. . “When the moment arrived for Josephine to take an active part in the grand drama, she descended from the throne and advanced to- wards the altar, where the emperor awaited her, followed by her retinue of court ladies, and having her train borne by the Princesses Caroline, Julie, Eliza, and. Louis. -One of the chief beauties of the Empress Josephine was not merely her fine figure, but the elegant turn of her neck, and the way in which she carried her head; indeed, her deport- ment altogether was conspicuous for dignity and grace. I have had the honor of being presented to many real princesses, to use the phrase of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, but I never saw one who, to my eyes, pre- sented. so perfect a personification of elegance and majesty. In Na- poleon’s countenance I could read the conviction of all I have just said. He looked with an air of complacency at the empress as she ad- vanced towards him; and when she knelt. down, when the tears, which she could not repress, fell upon her clasped hands, as they were raised to Heaven, or rather to Napoleon, both then appeared to enjoy one of those fleeting moments of pure felicity which are unique in a lifetime. and serve to fill up a lustrum of years. The emperor performed, with peculiar grace, every action required of him during the ceremony; but his manner of crowning Josephine was most remarkable: after receiving the small crown, surmounted by the cross, he had first to place it on his own head. and then to transfer it to that of the empress. When the moment arrived for placing the crown on the head of the woman whom 160 LIFE OF NAPOLEON popular superstition regarded as his good genius, his manner was almost playful. He took great pains to arrange this little crown, which was placed over Josephine’s tiara of diamonds; he put it on, then took it off, and finally put it on again, as if to promise her she should wear it grace- fully and lightly.” The fate of France had no sooner been settled, as Na- poleon believed, than it became necessary to decide on what should be done with Italy. The crown was offered to Joseph, who refused it. He did not want to renounce his claim to that of France, and finally Napoleon decided to take it himself. A new constitution was prepared for the country by the French Senate, and, when all was arranged, Napoleon started on April 1st for Italy. A great train ac- companied him, and the trip was of especial interest. The party crossed the Alps by Mont Cenis, and the road was so bad that the carriages had to be taken to pieces and carried over, while the travellers walked. This trip really léd to the fine roads which now cross Mont Cenis. At Alessandria Na- poleon halted, and on the field of Marengo ordered a re- view of the manceuvres of the famous battle. At this re- view he even wore the coat and hat he had worn on that famous day four years before. By the time the imperial party was ready to enter Milan, on May 13, it had increased to a triumphal procession, and the entry was attended by most enthusiastic demonstra- tions. On May 26 the coronation took place. The iron crown, used so long for the coronation of the Lombard kings, had been brought out for the occasion. When the point in the ceremony was reached where the crown was to be placed on Napoleon’s head, he seized it, and with his own hands placed it on his head, repeating in a loud voice the words inscribed on the crown: * God gives it to me; beware who touches it.” Josephine was not crowned Queen of Italy, but watched the scene from a gallery above the altar. OPPOSERIONTEORNAPOLEON 161 Napoleon remained in Italy for another month, engaged in settling the affairs of the country. The order of the Crown of Iron was created, the constitution settled, Prince Eugéne was made viceroy, and Genoa was joined to the Empire. ‘yeyey Aq ydess0yiT ‘SGYvVND SIH ONIMAIAGY NOATOdYN 162 Cine Mane. al CAMPAIGN OF I805—-CAMPAIGN OF 1806-1807—-PEACE OF TILSIT USTRIA looked with jealousy on this increase of power, and particularly on the change in the institu- tions of her neighbors. In assuming control of the Italian and Germanic States, Napoleon gave the people his code and his methods; personal liberty, equality before the law, religious toleration, took the place of the unjust and nar- row feudal institutions. These new ideas were quite as hate- ful to Austria as the disturbance in the balance of pewer, and more dangerous to her system. Russia and Prussia felt the same suspicion of Napoleon as Austria did. All three powers were constantly incited to action against France by England, who offered unlimited gold 1f they would but com- bine with her. In the summer of 1805 Austria joined Eng- land and Russia in a coalition against France. Prussia was not yet willing to commit herself. The great army which for so many months had been gathering around Boulogne, preparing for the descent on England, waited anxiously for the arrival of the French fleet to cover its passage. But the fleet did not come; and, though hoping until the last that his plan would still be carried out, Napoleon quietly and swiftly made ready to transfer the army of England into the Grand Army, and to turn its march against his continental enemies. Never was his great war rule, “ Time is everything,’ more thoroughly carried out. ‘“ Austria will employ fine phrases 163 164 LIFE OF NAPOLEON in order to gain time,” he wrote Talleyrand, “and to pre- vent me accomplishing anything this year; . . . and in April I shall find one hundred thousand Russians in Poland, fed by England, twenty thousand English at Malta, and fifteen thousand Russians at Corfu. I should then be in a critical position. My mind is made up.” His orders flew from Boulogne to Paris, to the German States, to Italy, to his generals, to his naval commanders. By the 28th of August the whole army had moved. A month later it had crossed the Rhine, and Napoleon was at its head. The force which he commanded was in every way an ex- traordinary one. Marmont’s enthusiastic description was in no way an exaggeration: “This army, the most beautiful that was ever seen, was less re- doubtable from the number of its soldiers than from their nature. Almost all of them had carried on war and had won victories. There still existed among them something of the enthusiasm and exaltation of the Revolutionary campaigns; but this enthusiasm was systematized. From the supreme chief down—the chiefs of the army corps, the division commanders, the common officers and soldiers—everybody was hardened to war. The eighteen months in splendid camps had produced a train- ing, an ensemble, which has never existed since to the same degree, and a boundless confidence. This army was probably the best and the most redoubtable that modern times have seen.” The force responded to the imperious genius of its com- mander with a beautiful precision which amazes and dazzles one who follows its march. So perfectly had all been ar- ranged, so exactly did every corps and officer respond, that nine days after the passage of the Rhine, the army was in savaria, several marches in the rear of the enemy. “Ihe weather was terrible, but nothing checked them. The em- peror himself set the example. Day and night he was on horseback in the midst of his troops; once for a week he did not take off his boots. When they lagged, or the enemy harassed them, he would gather each regiment into a circle, explain to it the position of the enemy, the imminence of a CAMPAIGN OF 1805 165 great battle, and his confidence in his troops. These haran- gues sometimes took place in driving snowstorms, the soldiers standing up to their knees in icy slush. By October 13th, such was the extraordinary march they had made, the emperor was able to issue this address to the army: * Soldiers, a month ago we were encamped on the shores of the ocean, opposite England, when an impious league forced us to fly to the Rhine. Not a fortnight ago that river was passed; and the Alps, the Neckar, the Danube, and the Lech, the celebrated barriers of Germany, have not for a minute delayed our march. . . . The enemy, deceived by our manceuvres and the rapidity of our movements, is entirely turned. But for the army before you, we should be in London to-day, have avenged six centuries of insult, and have liberated the sea. “ Remember to-morrow that you are fighting against the allies of lehaledt-Cakab te pen ‘“* NAPOLEON.” Four days after this address came the capitulation of Ulm —a “new Caudine Forks,’ as Marmont called it. It was, as Napoleon said, a victory won by legs, instead of by arms. The great fatigue and the forced marches which the army had undergone had gained them sixty thousand prisoners, one hundred and twenty guns, ninety colors, more than thirty generals, at a cost of but fitteen hundred men, two- thirds of them but shehtly wounded. But there was no rest for the army. Before the middle of November it had so surrounded Vienna that the emperor and his court had fled to Brunn, seventy or eighty miles north of Vienna, to meet the Russians, who, under Alex- ander I., were coming from Berlin. Thither Napoleon followed them, but the Austrians retreated eastward, join- ing the Russians at Olmutz. The combined force of the allies was now some ninety thousand men. They had a strong reserve, and it looked as 1f the Prussian army was about to join them. Napoleon at Brunn had only some seventy or eighty thousand men, and was in the heart of the enemy’s country. Alexander, flattered by his aides, and NAPOLEON, 1805. Engraved in 1812 by Massard, after Bouillon. 166 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 167 confident that he was able to defeat the French, resolved to leave his strong position at Olmutz and seek battle with Napoleon. The position the French occupied can be understood if one draws a rough diagram of a right-angled triangle, Brunn being at the right angle formed by two roads, one running south to Vienna, by which Napoleon had come, and the other running eastward to Olmutz. The hypot- enuse of this angle, running from northeast to southwest, is formed by Napoleon’s army. When the allies decided to leave Olmutz their plan was to march southwestward, in face of Napoleon’s line, get be- tween him and Vienna, and thus cut off what they supposed was his base of supplies (in this they were mistaken, for Napoleon had, unknown to them, changed his base from Vienna to Bohemia), separate him from his Italian army, and drive him, routed, into Bohemia. On the 27th of November the allies advanced, and their first encounter with a small French vanguard was successful. It gave them confidence, and they continued their march on the 28th, 29th, and 30th, gradually extending a long line facing westward and parallel with Napoleon’s line. The French emperor, while this movement was going on, was rapidly calling up his reserves and strengthening his posi- tion. By the first day of December Napoleon saw clearly what the allies intended to do, and had formed his plan. The events of that day confirmed his ideas. By nine o'clock in the evening he was so certain of the plan of the coming battle that he rode the length of his line, explaining to his troops the tactics of the allies, and what he himself pro- posed to do. Napoleon’s appearance nerore the troops, his confident assurance of victory, called out a brilliant demonstration from the army. The divisions of infantry raised bundles of 168 LIFE OF NAPOLEON blazing straw on the ends of long poles, giving him an illumination as imposing as it was novel. It was a happy thought, for the day was the anniversary of his coronation. The emperor remained in .bivouac all night. At four o’clock of the morning of the 2d of December he was in the saddle. When the gray fog lifted he saw the enemy’s divis- ions arranged exactly as he had divined. Three corps faced his right—the southwest part of the hypotenuse. These corps had left a splendid position facing his centre, the heights of Pratzen. This advance of the enemy had left their centre weak and unprotected, and had separated the body of the army from its right, facing Napoleon’s left. The enemy was in ex- actly the position Napoleon wished for the attack he had planned. | It was eight o’clock in the morning when the emperor galloped up his line, proclaiming to the army that the enemy had exposed himself, and crying out: ‘‘ Close the campaign with a clap of thunder.”’ The generals rode to their post- tions, and at once the battle opened. Soult, who commanded the French centre, attacked the allies’ centre so unexpectedly that it -was driven into retreat. The \Hmperor Alexander and his headquarters were in this part of the army, and though the young czar did his best to rouse his forces, it was a hopeless task. The Russian centre was defeated and the wings divided. At the same time the allies’ left, where the bulk of their army was massed in a marshy country of which they knew little, was engaged and held in check by Davoust, and their right was overcome by Lannes, Murat, and Bernadotte. As soon as the centre and right of the allies had been driven into retreat, Napoleon concentrated his forces on their left, the strongest part of his enemy. In a very short time the allies were driven back into the canals and lakes of the country, and many men and nearly all CAMPAIGN OF 1805 169 the artillery lost. Before night the routed enemy had falien back to Austerlitz. Of all Napoleon’s battles, Austerlitz was the one of which he was the proudest. It was here that he showed best the “ divine side of war.” The familiar note in which Napoleon announced to his brother Joseph the result of the battle, is a curious contrast to the oratorical bulletins which for some days flowed to Paris. His letter is dated Austerlitz, December 3, 1805: “ After manceuvring for a few days I fought a decisive battle yester- day. I defeated the combined armies commanded by the Emperors of Russia and Germany. Their force consisted of eighty thousand Rus- sians and thirty thousand Austrians. I have made forty thousand prisoners, taken forty flags, one hundred guns, and all the standards of the Russian Imperial Guard. . . . Although I have bivouacked in the open air for a week, my health is good. This evening I am in bed in the beautiful castle of Monsieur de Kaunitz, and have changed my shirt for the first time in eight days.” The battle of Austerlitz obliged Austria to make peace(the treaty was signed at Presburg on December 26, 1805), com- pelled Russia to retiredisabled from the field, transformed the haughty Prussian wltimatim which had just been presented into humble submission, and changed the rejoicings of England over the magnificent naval victory of Trafalgar (October 21st) into despair. It even killed Pitt. Napoleon it enabled to make enormous strides in establishing a kingdom of the West. Naples was given to Joseph, the Bavarian Republic was made a kingdom for Louis, and the states between the Lahn, the Rhine, and the Upper Danube were formed into a league, called the Confederation of the Rhine, and Napoleon was made Protector. At the beginning of 1806 Napoleon was again in Parts. He had been absent but three months. Eight months of this year were spent in fruitless negotiations with England and in an irritating correspondence with Prussia. The latter ‘MOUS PuoW py InsisuofY JO worda]][O9 oY} UL JoTUOSsIay Aq sinqoId 9yy Adz; ‘VNAf 4O ATLLVaE ‘“9Q0gI1 170 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 171 country had many grievances against Napoleon, the sum of them ail being that * French politics had been the scourge of humanity for the last fifteen years,’ and that an “ in- satiable ambition was still the ruling passion of France.” By the end of September war was declared, and Napoleon, whose preparations had been conducted secretly, it being given out that he was going to Compiegne to hunt, suddenly joined his army. The first week of October the Grand Army advanced from southern Germany towards the valley of the Saale. This movement brought them on the flanks of the Prussians, who were scattered along the upper Saale. The unexpected ap- pearance of the French army, which was larger and much better organized than the Prussians, caused the latter to retreat towards the Elbe. ‘The retreating army was in two divisions; the first crossing the Saale to Jena, the second falling back towards the Unstrut. As soon as Napoleon understood these movements he despatched part of his force under Davoust and Bernadotte to cut off the retreat of the second Prussian division, while he himself hurried on to Jena to force battle on the first. The Prussians were en- camped at the foot of a height known as the Landgrafen- berg. To command this height was to command the Prus- sian forces. By a series of determined and repeated efforts Napoleon reached the position desired, and by the morning of the 14th of October had his foes in his power. Ad- vancing from the Landgrafenberg in three divisions, he turned the Prussian flanks at the same moment that he at- tacked their centre. The Prussians never fought better, perhaps, than at Jena. [he movements of their cavalry awakened even Napoleon’s admiration, but they were sur- rounded and outnumbered, and the army was speedily broken into pieces and driven into a retreat. While Napoleon was fighting at Jena, to the right at 172 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Auerstadt, Davoust was engaging Brunswick and his seventy thousand men with a force of twenty-seven thous- sand. In spite of the great difference in numbers the Prus- sians were unable to make any impression on the French; and Brunswick falling, they began to retreat towards Jena, expecting to join the other division of the army, of whose route they were ignorant. The result was frightful. The two flying armies suddenly encountered each other, and, pursued by the French on either side, were driven in con- fusion towards the Elbe. On October 25th the French were at Berlin. Their entry was one of the great spectacles of the campaign. One par- ticularly interesting incident was the visit paid to Napoleon by the Protestant and Calvinist French clergy. There were at that time twelve thousand French refugees in Berlin, victims of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. They were received with kindness by Napoleon, who told them they had good right to protection, and that their privileges and wor- ship should be respected. Jena brought Napoleon something like one hundred and sixty million francs in money, an enormous number of prisoners, guns, and standards, the glory of the entry of ‘Berlin, and a great number of interesting articles for the Napoleon Museum of Paris, among them the column from the field of Rosbach, the sword, the ribbon of the black eagle, and the general’s sash of Frederick the Great, and the flags carried by his guards during the Seven Years’ War. But it did not secure him peace. The King of Prussia threw himself into the arms of Russia, and Napoleon advanced boldly into Poland to meet his enemy. The Poles welcomed the French with joy. They hoped to find in Napoleon the liberator of their country, and they poured forth money and soldiers to reénforce him. ‘ Our entry into Varsovia,’ wrote Napoleon, “ was a triumph, CAMPAIGN OF 1805 7s and the sentiments that the Poles of all classes show since our arrival cannot be expressed. Love of country and the national sentiment are not only entirely conserved in the heart of the people, but it has been intensified by misfor- tune. Their first passion, their first desire, is again to be- come a nation. The rich come from their chateaux, praying for the reestablishment of the nation, and offering their children, their fortunes, and their influence.” Everything was done during the months the French remained in Poland, to fiatter and aid the army. The campaign against the Russians was carried on in Old Prussia, to the southeast of the Gulf of Dantzic. Its first great engagement was the battle of Eylau on February 8, 1807. This was the closest drawn battle Napoleon had ever fought. His loss was enormous, and he was saved only by a hair’s-breadth from giving the enemy the field of battle. After Eylau the main army went into winter quar- ters to repair its losses, while Marshal Lefebvre besieged Dantzic, a siege which military critics declare to be, after Sebastopol, the most celebrated of modern times. Dantzic capitulated in May. On June 14th the battle of Friedland was fought. This battle on the anniversary of Marengo, was won largely by Napoleon’s taking advantage of a blunder of his opponent. The French and the Russian armies were on the opposite banks of the Alle. Benningsen, the Russian commander, was marching towards Konigsberg by the east- ern bank. Napoleon was pursuing by the western bank. The French forces, however, were scattered; and Benning- sen, thinking that he could engage and easily rout a portion of the army by crossing the river at Friedland, suddenly led his army across to the western bank. Napoleon utilized this unwise movement with splendid skill. Calling up his re-enforcements he attacked the enemy solidly. As soon as the Russian centre was broken, defeat was inevitable, for MEETING OF FREDERICK WILLIAM III., KING OF PRUSSIA, NAPOLEON, AND ALEXANDER I EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, AT TILSIT. THE FIGURE ON THE LEFT IS FREDERICK WILLIAM ; THAT ON THE RIGHT IS ALEXANDER. Af Engraved by Gigel, after a drawing by Wolff. The meeting occurred June 26, 1807, in the pavilion which had been erected for that purpose on the River Nieman 174 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 175 the retreating army was driven into the river, and thou- sands lost. Many were pursued through the streets of Friedland by the French, and slaughtered there. The battle was hardly over when Napoleon wrote to Josephine: *“ FRIEDLAND, 15th June, 1807. “My Dear: I write you only a few words, for I am very tired. I have been bivouacking for several days. My children have worthily celebrated the anniversary of Marengo. The battle of Friedland will be just as celebrated and as glorious for my people. The whole Russian army routed eighty guns captured, thirty thousand men taken prisoners or killed, with twenty-five generals; the Russian guard annihilated; it is the worthy sister of Marengo, Austerlitz, and Jena. The bulletin will tell you the rest. My loss is not large. I successfully out-manceuvred the enemy. ** NAPOLEON.” Friedland ended the war. Directly after the battle Na- poleon went to Tilsit, which for the time was made neutral ground, and here he met the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia, and the map of Europe was made over. The relations between the royal parties seem to have been for the most part amiable. Napoleon became very fond of Alexander I. at Tilsit. “ Were he a woman I think I should make love to him,” he wrote Josephine once. Alexander, young and enthusiastic, had a deep admiration for Na- poleon’s genius, and the two became good comrades. The King of Prussia, overcome by his losses, was a sorrowful figure in their company. It was their habit at Tilsit to go out every day on horseback, but the king was awkward, always crowding against Napoleon, beside whom he rode, and making his two companions wait for him to climb from the saddle when he returned. ‘Their dinners together were dull, and the emperors, very much in the style of two care- less, fun-loving youths, bored by a solemn elderly relative, were accustomed after dinner to make excuses to go home early but later to meet at the apartments of one or the other, and to talk together until after midnight. NAPOLEON RECEIVING QUEEN LOUISE OF PRUSSIA, JULY 6, 1807. By Gosse. Versailles gallery. 176 CAMPAIGN OF 1805 8 Just before the negotiation were completed, Queen Louise arrived, and tried to use her influence with Napoleon to obtain at least Magdeburg. Napoleon accused the queen to Las Cases of trying to win him at first by a scene of high tragedy. But when they came to meet at dinner, her policy was quite another. ‘‘ The Queen of Prussia dined with me to-day,’ wrote Napoleon to the empress on July 7th. “I had to defend myself against being obliged to make some further concessions to her husband; . . . ” and the next day, “ The Queen of Prussia is really charming; she is full of coquetterie towards me. But do not be jealous; I am an oilcloth, off which all that runs. It would cost me too dear to play the galant.” The intercessions of the queen really hurried on the treaty. When she learned that it had been signed, and her wishes not granted, she was indignant, wept bitterly, and refused to go to the second dinner to which Napoleon had invited her. Alexander was obliged to go himself to decide her. After the dinner, when she withdrew, Napoleon accom- panied her. On the staircase she stopped. » Canvit.be, she said; = that aiter I have had.the happi- ness of seeing so near me the man of the age and of history, I am not to have the liberty and satisfaction of assuring him ticieleaiasea track ecementot 1enme numer ‘““Madame, I am to be pitied,” said the emperor gravely. “It is my evil star.” By the treaty of Tilsit the map of the continent was trans- formed. Prussia lost half her territory. Dantzic was made a free town. Magdeburg went to France. Hesse-Cassel and the Prussian possessions west of the Elbe went to form the kingdom of Westphalia. The King of Saxony received the grand duchy of Warsaw. Finland and the Danubian principalities were to go to Alexander in exchange for cer- tain Ionian islands and the Gulf of Cattaro in Dalmatia. 178 LIFE OF NAPOLEON Of far more importance than this change of boundaries was the private understanding which the emperors came to at Tilsit. They agreed that the Ottoman Empire was to re- main as it was unless they saw fit to change its boundaries. Russia might occupy the principalities as far as the Danube. Peace was to be made, if possible, with England, and the two powers were to work together to bring it about. If they failed, Russia was to force Sweden to close her ports to Great Britain, and Napoleon was to do the same in Den- mark, Portugal, and the States of the Pope. Nothing was to be done about Poland by Napoleon. According to popular belief, the secret treaty of Tilsit in- cluded plans much more startling: the two emperors pledged themselves to drive the Bourbons from Spain and the Bra- ganzas from Portugal, and to replace them by Bonapartes; give Russia Turkey in Europe and as much of Asia as she wanted; end the temporal power of the Pope; place France in Egypt; shut the English from the Mediterranean; and to undertake several other equally ambitious enterprises. GHA Eh Re utT EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE—-FAMILY AFFAIRS APOLEON’S influence in Europe was now at its Zenitie tie wasmitctally we Kinowor kines, “fas«he was popularly called, and the Bonaparte family was rapidly displacing the Bourbon. Joseph had been made King of Naples in 1806. Eliza was Princess of Lucques and Piombino. Louis, married to Hortense, had been King of Holland since 1806. Pauline had been the Princess Bor- ghese since 1803; Caroline, the wife of Murat, was Grand Duchess of Cleves and Berg; Jerome was King of West- phalia; Eugéne de Beauharnais, Viceroy of Italy, was mar- ried to a princess of Bavaria. The members of Napoleon’s family were elevated only on condition that they act strictly in accordance with his plans. They must marry so as to cement the ties necessary to his kingdom. They must arrange their time, form their friend- ships, spend their money, as it best served the interests of his great scheme of conquest. The interior affairs of their kingdoms were in reality centralized 1n his hands as perfectly as those of France. He watched the private and public con- duct of his kings and nobles, and criticised them with ab- solute frankness and extraordinary common sense. ‘The ground on which he protected them is well explained in the following letter, written in January, 1806, to Count Miot de Mélito: “You are going to rejoin my brother. You will tell him that I have made him King of Naples; that he will continue to be Grand Elector, 179 JOSEPH BONAPARTE IN HIS CORONATION ROBES. 1808. Engraved by C. S. Pradier in 1813, after Gérard! EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 181 and that nothing will be changed as regards his relations with France. But impress upon him that the least hesitation, the slightest wavering, will ruin him entirely. I have another person in my mind who will re- place him should he refuse. . . . At present all feelings of affection yield to state reasons. I recognize only those who serve me as relations. My fortune is not attached to the name of Bonaparte, but to that of Na- poleon. It is with my fingers and with my pen that I make children. To-day I can love only those whom I esteem. Joseph must forget all our ties of childhood. Let him make himself esteemed. Let him ac- quire glory. Let him have a leg broken in battle. Then I shall esteem him. Let him give up his old ideas. Let him not dread fatigue. Look at me: the campaign I have just terminated, the movement, the ex- citement, have made me stout. I believe that if all the kings of Europe were to coalesce against me, I should have a ridiculous paunch.”’ Joseph, bent on being a great king, boasted now and then to Napoleon of his position in Naples. His brother never failed to silence him with the truth, if it was blunt and hard to digest. “When you talk about the fifty thousand enemies of the queen, you make me laugh. . . . You exaggerate the degree of hatred which the queen has left behind at Naples: you do not know mankind. There are not twenty persons who hate her as you suppose, and there are not twenty persons who would not surrender to one of her smiles. The strongest feeling of hatred on the part of a nation is that inspired by an- other nation. Your fifty thousand men are the enemies of the French.” With Jerome, Napoleon had been particularly incensed because of his marriage with Miss Patterson. In 1804 he wrote of that affair: “ . . . Jerome is wrong to think that he will be able to count upon any weakness on my part, for, not having the rights of a father, I cannot entertain for him the feeling of a father; a father allows himself to be blinded, and it pleases him to be blinded because he identifies his son with himself. . . . But what am I to Jerome? Sole instrument of my destiny, I owe nothing to my brothers. They have made an abun- dant harvest out of what I have accomplished in the way of glory; but for all that, they must not abandon the field and deprive me of the aid I have a right to expect from them. They will cease to be anything for me, directly they take a road opposed to mine. If I exact so much from my brothers who have already rendered many services, if I have aban- JEROME BONAPARTE. 1808. “Engraved by I. G. Miller, knight, and Frederich Miller, son, engravers to his majesty the King of Wurtemberg. After a design made at Cassel by 2 Madame Kinson.’’ 182 EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 183 doned the one who in mature age [Lucien], refused to follow my advice, what must not Jerome, who is still young, and who is known only for his neglect of duty, expect? If he does nothing for me, I shall see in this the decree of destiny, which has decided that I shall do nothing for him. ie Jerome yielded later to his brother’s wishes, and in 1807 was rewarded with the new kingdom of Westphalia. Napo- leon kept close watch of him, however, and his letters are full of admirable counsels. The following is particularly valu- able, showing, as it does, that Napoleon believed a govern- ment would be popular and enduring only in proportion to the liberty and prosperity it gave the citizens. “What the German peoples desire with impatience [he told Jerome}, is that persons who are not of noble birth, and who have talents, shall have an equal right to your consideration and to public employment (with those who are of noble birth) ; that every sort of servitude and of intermediate obligations between the sovereign and the lowest class of the people should be entirely abolished. The benefits of the Code Na- poleon, the publicity of legal procedure, the establishment of the jury system, will be the distinctive characteristics of your monarchy. I count more on the effect of these benefits for the extension and strengthening of your kingdom, than upon the result of the greatest victories. Your people ought to enjoy a liberty, an equality, a well- being, unknown to the German peoples. . . . What people would wish to return to the arbitrary government of Prussia, when it has tasted the benefits of a wise and liberal administration? The peoples of Germany, France, Italy, Spain, desire equality, and demand that liberal ideas should prevail. . . . Bea constitutional king.” Louis in Holland was never a king to Napoleon’s mind. He especially disliked his quarrels with his wife. In 1807 Napoleon wrote Louis, apropos of his domestic relations, a letter which is a good example of scores of others he sent to one and another of his kings and princes about their, pri- vate affairs. “You govern that country too much like a Capuchin. The goodness of a king should be full of majesty. . . . A king orders, and asks nothing from any one. . . . When people say of a king that he is good, his reign is a failure. . . . Your quarrels with the queen are MARIE PAULINE BONAPARTE, PRINCESS BORGHESE. This graceful portrait of the most beautiful of Napoleon’s sisters, is from the brush of Madame Benoit, and belongs to the Versailles collection. 184 EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE | 185 known to the public. You should exhibit at home that paternal and ef- feminate character you show in your manner of governing. . . . You treat a young wife as you would command a regiment. Distrust the people by whom you are surrounded; they are nobles. . . . You have the best and most virtuous of wives, and you render her miserable. Al- low her to dance as much as she likes; it is in keeping with her age. I have a wife who is forty years of age; from the field of battle I write to her to go to balls, and you wish a young woman of twenty to live in a cloister, or, like a nurse, to be always washing her children. . . . Render the mother of your children happy. You have only one way of doing so, by showing her esteem and confidence. Unfortunately you have a wife who is too virtuous: if you had a coquette, she would lead you by the nose. But you have a proud wife, who is offended and grieved at the mere idea that you can have a bad opinion of her. You should have had a wife like some of those whom I know in Paris. She would have played you false, and you would have been at her feet. *“ NAPOLEON.” With his sisters he was quite as positive. While Josephine adapted herself with grace and tact to her great position, the Bonaparte sisters, especially Pauline, were constantly irritating somebody by their vanity and jealousy. The following letter to Pauline shows how little Napoleon spared them when their performances came to his ears: “ MADAME AND DEAR SISTER: I have learned with pain that you have not the good sense to conform to the manners and customs of the city of Rome; that you show contempt for the inhabitants, and that your eyes are unceasingly turned towards Paris. Although occupied with vast affairs, I nevertheless desire to make known my wishes, and I hope that you will conform to them. “T love your husband and his family, be amiable, accustom yourself to the usages of Rome, and put this in your head: that if you follow bad advice you will no longer be able to count upon me. You may be sure that you will find no support in Paris, and that I shall never receiye you there without your husband. If you quarrel with him, it will be your fault, and France will be closed to you. You will sacrifice your happiness and my esteem. *“ BONAPARTE.’ This supervision of policy, relations, and conduct extended to his generals. The case of General Berthier is one to the ne rri4 ‘ \ > eins, ELDEST SISTER OF NAPOLEON TUSCANY, 1820). CHESS OF AND DU GR ELISA BACCIOCHI, We (177 after Counis. 1814, in Morghen ed by Engrav EXTENSION OF NAPOLEON’S EMPIRE 187 point. Chief of Napoleon’s staff in Italy, he had fallen in love at Milan with a Madame Visconti, and had never been able to conquer his passion. In Egypt Napoleon called him “ chief of the lovers’ faction,” that part of the army which, because of their desire to see wives or sweethearts, were con- stantly revolting against the campaign, and threatening to desert. In 1804 Berthier had been made marshal, and in 1806 Napoleon wished to give him the princedom of Neufchatel ; but it was only on condition that he give up Madame de Visconti, and marry. “T exact only one condition, which is that you get married. Your passion has lasted long enough. It has become ridiculous; and I have the right to hope that the man whom I have called my companion in arms, who will be placed alongside of me by posterity, will no longer abandon himself to a weakness without example. . . . You know that no one likes you better than I do, but you know also that the first condition of my friendship is that it must be made subordinate to my esteem.” Berthier fled to Josephine for help, weeping like a child; but she could do nothing, and he married the woman chosen for him. Three months after the ceremony, the husband of Madame de Visconti died and Berthier, broken-hearted, wrote to the Prince Borghese: “You know how often the emperor pressed me to obtain a divorce for Madame de Visconti. But a divorce was always repugnant to the feel- ings in which I was educated, and therefore I waited. To-day Madame de Visconti is free, and I might have been the happiest of men. But the emperor forced me into a marriage which hinders me from uniting myself to the only woman I ever loved. Ah, my dear prince, all that the emperor has done and may yet do for me, will be no compensation for the eternal misfortunes to which he has condemned me.” Never was Napoleon more powerful than at the end of the period we have been tracing so rapidly, never had he so looked the emperor. An observer who watched him through 188 PIR OR ANAG OIE iN) the Te Deum sung at Notre Dame in his honor, on his re- turn from Tilsit, says: “ His features, always calm and serious, recalled the cameos which represent the Roman emperors. He was small; still his whole person, in this imposing ceremony, was in harmony with the part he was playing. A sword glittering with precious stones was at his side, and the glittering diamond called the “ Regent ” formed its pommel. Its brilliancy did not let us forget that this sword was the sharpest and the most victorious that the world had seen since those of Alexander and Czesar.”’ Certainly he never worked more prodigiously. The campaigns of 1805-1807 were, in spite of their rapid move- ment,—indeed, because of it,—terribly fatiguing for him; that they were possible at all was due mainly to the fact that they had been made on paper so many times in his study. When he was consul the only room opening from his study was filled with enormous maps of all the countries of the world. This room was presided over by a competent cartographer. Frequently these maps were brought to the study and spread upon the floor. Napoleon would get down upon them on all fours, and creep about, compass and red pencil in hand, comparing and measuring distances, and studving the configuration of the land. , If he was in doubt about anything, he referred it to his librarian, who was ex- pected to give him the fullest details. Attached to his cabinet were skilful translators, whose business was not only to translate diplomatic correspond- ence, but to gather from foreign sources full information about the armies of his enemies. Méneval declares that the emperor knew the condition of foreign armies as well as he did that of his own. The amount of information he had about other lands was largely due to his ability to ask questions. When he sent to an agent for a report, he rattled at him a volley of ques- EX VENSLON@C@ PaNAPOERELON GS EViPIR Ee rid tions, always to the point; and the agent knew that it would never do to let one go unanswered. While carrying on the Austrian and Prussian campaigns of 1805-1807, Napoleon showed, as never before, his extra- ordinary capacity for attending to everything. The number of despatches he sent out was incredible. In the first three months of 1807, while he was in Poland, he wrote over seventeen hundred letters and despatches. It was not simply war, the making of kingdoms, the direc- tions of his new-made kings; minor affairs of the greatest variety occupied him. While at Boulogne, tormented by the failure of the English invasion and the war against Austria, he ordered that horse races should be established “* 1n those parts of the empire the most remarkable for the horses they breed ; prizes shall be awarded to the fleetest horses.” The very day after the battle of Friedland, he was sending orders to Paris about the form and site of a statue to the memory of the Bishop of Vannes. He criticised from Poland the quarrels of Parisian actresses, ordered canals, planned there for the Bourse and the Odeon Theatre. The newspapers he watched as he did when in Paris, reprimanded this editor, suspended that, forbade the publication of news of disasters to the French navy, censured every item honorable to his enemies. ‘To read the bulletines issued from Jena to Fried- land, one would believe that the writer had no business other than that of regulating the interior affairs of France. This care of details went, as Pasquier says, to the “ point of minuteness, or, to speak plainly, to that of charlatanism; ” but it certainly did produce a deep impression upon France. That he could establish himself five hundred leagues from Paris, in the heart of winter, in a country encircled by his enemies, and yet be in daily communication with his capital, could direct even its least important affairs as if he were present, could know what every person of influence, from 190 LIFE OF NAPOLEON the Secretary of State to the humblest newspaper man, was doing, caused a superstitious feeling to rise in France, and in all Europe, that the emperor of the French people was not only omnipotent, but omnipresent. CEE ED Rex Vy) THE BERLIN DECREE—WAR IN THE PENINSULA -—THE BONAPARTES ON LEE SPANISH THRONE HEN Napoleon, in 1805, was obliged to abandon the descent on England and turn the magnifi- cent army gathered at Boulogne against Austria, he by no means gave up the idea of one day humbling his enemy. Persistently throughout the campaigns of 1805- 1807 his despatches and addresses remind Frenchmen that vengeance is only deferred. In every way he strives to awaken indignation and hatred against England. ‘The alliance which has compelled him to turn his armies against his neighbors on the Continent, he characterizes as an “unjust league fomented by the hatred and gold of England.” He tells the soldiers of the Grand Army that it is English gold which has transported the Russian army from the extremities of the universe to fight them. He charges the horrors of Austerlitz upon the Eng- lish. “‘ May all the blood shed, may all these misfortunes, fall upon the perfidious islanders who have caused them! May the cowardly oligarchies of London support the con- sequences of so many woes!” From now on, all the treaties he makes are drawn up with a view to humbling “ the eternal enemies of the Continent.”’ Negotiation for peace went on, it is true, in 1806, between the two countries. Napoleon offered to return Hanover and Malta. He offered several things which belonged to other people, but England refused all of his combinations ; IgI TIIE QUEEN OF NAPLES AND MARIE MURAT. By Madame Vigée-Lebrun. This canvas, executed in 1807, is in the museum of Versailles. Caroline of Naples is represented with her eldest child, Marie Letitia Joséphe Murat, afterwards Countess Pepoli. 192 THE BERLIN DECREE 193 and when, a few days after Jena, he addressed his army, it was to tell them: ** We shall not lay down our arms until we have obliged the English, those eternal enemies of our nation, to renounce their plan of troubling the Continent and their tyranny of the seas.” A month later—November 21, 1806—he proclaimed the famous Decree of Berlin, his future policy towards Great — Britain. As she had shut her enemies from the sea, he would shut her from the land. The “ continental blockade,” as this struggle of land against sea was called, was only using Eng- land’s own weapon of war; but it was using it with a sweep- ing audacity, thoroughly Napoleonic in conception and in the proposed execution. Henceforth, all communication was forbidden between the British Isles and France and her allies. Every Englishman found under French authority—and that was about all the Continent as the emperor estimated it —was a prisoner of war. Every dollar’s worth of English property found within Napoleon’s boundaries, whether it belonged to rich trader or inoffensive tourist, was prize of war. If one remembers the extent of the seaboard which Napoleon at that moment commanded, the full peril of this menace to English commerce is clear. From St. Petersburg to Trieste there was not a port, save those of Denmark and Portugal, which would not close at his bidding. At Tilsit he and Alexander had entered into an agreement to complete this seaboard, to close the Baltic, the Channel, the European Atlantic, and the Mediterranean to the English. This was nothing else than asking Continental Europe to destroy her commerce for their sakes. There were several serious uncertainties in the scheme. What retaliation would England make? Could Napoleon and Alexander agree long enough to succeed in dividing the valuable portions of the continents of Europe, Asia, and Africa? Would the nations cheerfully give up the English v SS ae a > Ie i itapconn: JOACHIM MURAT (1771-1815). Engraved by Ruotte, after Gros. 194 THE BERLIN DECREE 195 cottons and tweeds they had been buying, the boots they had been wearing, the cutlery and dishes they had been using? Would they cheerfully see their own products lie uncalled for in thetr warehouses, for the sake of aiding a foreign monarch—although the most brilliant and powerful on earth—to carry out a vast plan for crushing an enemy who was not their enemy? It remained to be seen. In the meantime there was the small part of the coast line remaining independent to be joined to the portion already blockaded to the English. There was no delay in Napoleon's action. Denmark was ordered to choose between war with England and war with France. Portugal was notified that if her ports were not closed in forty days the French and Spanish armies would invade her. England gave a drastic reply to Napoleon’s measures. In August she appeared be- fore Copenhagen, seized the Danish fleet, and for three days bombarded the town. This unjustifiable attack on a nation with which she was at peace horrified Europe, and it sup- ported the emperor in pushing to the uttermost the Berlin Decrecmestlesimadcanomoecictvormic) deterininationy™ Ina diplomatic audience at Fontainebleau, October 14, 1807, he declared: “Great Britain shall be destroyed. I have the means of doing it, and they shall be employed. I have three hundred thousand men devoted to this object, and an ally who has three hundred thousand to support them. I will permit no nation to receive a minister from Great Britain until she shall have renounced her maritime usages and tyranny; and I desire you, gentlemen, to convey this determination to your respective sovereigns.” Such an alarming extent did the blockade threaten to take, that even our minister to France, Mr. Armstrong, began to be nervous. His diplomatic acquaintances told him cyn- ically, ‘‘ You are much favored, but it won't last; ”’ and, in fact, it was not long before it was evident that the United 196 LIFE OF NAPOLEON States was not to be allowed to remain neutral. Napoleon’s notice to Mr. Armstrong was clear and decisive: “Since America suffers her vessels to be searched, she adopts the principle that the flag does not cover the goods. Since she recognizes the absurd blockades laid by England, consents to having her vessels incessantly stopped, sent to England, and so turned aside from their course, why should the Americans not suffer the blockade laid by France? Certainly France is no more blockaded by England than England by France. Why should Americans not equally suffer their vessels to be searched by French ships? Certainly France recognizes that these measures are unjust, illegal. and subversive of national sovereignty ; but it 1s the duty of nations to resort to force, and to declare them- selves against things which dishonor them and disgrace their independence.” The attempt to force Portugal to close her ports caused war. In all but one particular she had obeyed Napoleon’s orders: she had closed her ports, detained all Englishmen in her borders, declared war; but her king refused to con- fiscate the property of British subjects in Portugal. This evasion furnished Napoleon an excuse for refusing to be- lieve in the sincerity of her pretensions. ‘“‘ Continue your march,” he wrote to Junot, who had been ordered into the country aview days. betore (October 12 91307,)hawelehave reason to believe that there is an understanding with Eng- land, so as to give the British troops time to arrive from pie Copenhagen. Without waiting for the results of the invasion, he and the King of Spain divided up Portugal between them. If their action was premature, Portugal did nothing to gainsay them; for when Junot arrived at Lisbon in December, he found the country without a government, the royal family having fled in fright to Brazil. There was only one thing now to be done; Junot must so establish himself as to hold the country against the English, who naturally would re- sent the injury done their ally. From St. Petersburg to Trieste, Napoleon now held the seaboard. THE BERLIN DECREE 197 But he was not satisfied. Spain was between him and Portugal. If he was going to rule Western Europe he ought to possess her. ‘There is no space here to trace the intrigues with the weak and vicious factions of the Spanish court, which ended in Napoleon’s persuading Charles IV. to cede his rights to the Spanish throne and to become his pensioner, and Ferdinand, the heir apparent, to abdicate; and which placed Joseph Bonaparte, King of Naples, on the Spanish throne, and put Murat, Charlotte Bonaparte’s hus- band, in Joseph’s place. From beginning to end the transfer of the Spanish crown from Bourbon to Bonaparte was dishonorable and unjustifi- able. It is true that the government of Spain was corrupt. No greater mismanagement could be conceived, no more scandalous court. Unquestionably the country would have been far better off under Napoleonic institutions. But to despoil Spain was to be false to an ally which had served him for years with fidelity, and at an awful cost to herself. It is true that her service had been through fear, not love. It is true that at one critical moment (when Napoleon was in Poland, in 1807) she had tried to escape; but, neverthe- less, it remained a fact that for France Spain had lost colo- nies, sacrificed men and money, and had seen her fleet go down at Trafalgar. In taking her throne, Napoleon had none of the excuses which had justified him in interfering in Italy, in Germany, in Holland, in Switzerland. This was not a conquest of war, not confiscation on account of the perfidy of an ally, not an attempt to answer the prayers of a people for a more liberal government. If Spain had submitted to the change, she would have been purchasing good government at the price of national honor. But Spain did not submit. She, as well as all disin- terested lookers-on in Europe, was revolted by the baseness of the deed. No one has ever explained better the feeling 198 LIFE OF NAPOLEON which the intrigues over the Spanish throne caused than Napoleon himself : “T confess I embarked badly in the affair [he told Las Cases at St. Helena]. The immorality of it was too patent. the injustice far too eynical, and the whole thing too villainous; hence I failed. The attempt is seen now only in its hideous nudity, stripped of all that is grand, of all the numerous benefits which I intended. Posterity would have extolled it, however, if I had succeeded, and rightly, per- haps, because of its great and happy results.” It was the Spanish people themselves, not the ruling house, who resented the transfer from Bourbon to Bona- parte. . No sooner was it noised through Spain that the Bourbons had really abdicated, and Joseph Bonaparte had been named king, than an insurrection was organized simultaneously all over the country. Some eighty-four thousand French troops were scattered through the Peninsula, but they were power- less before the kind of warfare which now began. Every defile became a battle-ground, every rock hid a peasant, armed and waiting for French stragglers, messengers, supply parties. The remnant of the French fleets escaped from Tratalear,and'now at» Cadiz, was forced to surrender Twenty-five thousand French soldiers laid down their arms at Baylen, but the Spaniards refused to keep their capitula- tion treaties. The prisoners were tortured by the peasants in the most barbarous fashion, crucified, burned, sawed asunder. Those who escaped the popular vengeance were sent to the Island of Cabrera, where they lived in the most abject fashion. It was only in 1814 that the remnant of this army was released. King Joseph was obliged to flee to Vit- toria a week after he reached his capital. The misfortunes of Spain were followed by greater ones in Portugal. Junot was defeated by an English army at Vimeiro in August, 1808, and capitulated on condition that his army be taken back to France without being disarmed. Give PROV DISASTER IN SPAIN——-ALEXANDER AND NAPOLEON IN COUN- CIL—NAPOLEON AT MADRID APOLEON amazed at this unexpected popular up- rising in Spain, and angry that the spell of invinci- bility under which his armies had fought, was broken, resolved to undertake the Peninsular war himself. But before a campaign in Spain could be entered upon, it was necessary to know that all the inner and outer wheels of the great machine he had devised for dividing the world and crushing England were revolving perfectly. Since the treaty of Tilsit he had done much at home for this machine. The finances were in splendid condition. Public works of great importance were going on all over the kingdom; the court was luxurious and brilliant, and the money it scattered, encouraged the commercial and manu- facturing classes. Never had fétes been more brilliant than those which welcomed Napoleon back to Paris in 1807; never had the season at Fontainebleau been gayer or more magnificent than it was that year. All of those who had been instrumental in bringing pros- perity and order to France were rewarded in 1807 with splendid gifts from the indemnities levied on the enemies. The marshals of the Grand Army received from eighty thousand to two hundred thousand dollars apiece; twenty- five generals were given forty thousand dollars each; the civil functionaries were not forgotten; thus Monsieur de Ségur received forty thousand dollars as a sign of the em- 199 200 LIFE OF NAPOLEON peror’s gratification at the way he had administered etiquette in the young court. It was at this period that Napoleon founded a new nobility as a further means of rewarding those who had rendered brilliant services to France. ‘This institution was designed, too, as a means of reconciling old and new France. It created the title of prince, duke, count, baron, and knight; and those receiving these titles were at the same time given domains in the conquered provinces, sufficient to permit them to establish themselves in good style. The drawing up of the rules which were to govern this new order occupied the gravest men of the country, Cam- bacéres, Saint-Martin, Hauterive, Portalis, Pasquier. Among other duties they had to prepare the armorial bear- ings. Napoleon refused to allow the crown to go on the new escutcheons. He wished no one but himself to have a right to use that symbol. A substitute was found in the panache, the number of plumes showing the rank. Napoleon used the new favors at his command freely, creating in all, after 1807, forty-eight thousand knights, one thousand and ninety barons, three hundred and eighty-eight _counts, thirty-one dukes, and three princes. All members of the old nobility who were supporting his government were given titles, but not those which they formerly held. Naturally this often led to great dissatisfaction, the bearers of ancient names preferring a lower rank which had been their family’s for centuries to one higher, but unhallowed by time and tradition. Thus Madame de Montmorency re- belled obstinately against being made a countess,—she had been a baroness under the old régime,— and, as the Mont- morencys claimed the honor of being called the first Chris- tian barons, she felt justly that the old title was a far prouder one than any Napoleon could give her. But a countess she had to remain. DISASTER IN SPAIN 201 In his efforts to win for himself the services of all those whom blood and fortune had made his natural supporters, the emperor tried again to reconcile Lucien. In November, 1807, Napoleon visited Italy, and at Mantua a secret inter- view took place between the brothers. Lucien, in his ‘“‘ Me- moirs,” gives a dramatic description of the way in which Napoleon spread the kingdoms of half a world before him and offered him his choice. “He struck a great blow with his hand in the middle of the im- mense map of Europe which was extended on the table, by the side of which we were standing. “Yes, choose,’ he said; “you see I am not talking in the air. All this is mine, or will soon belong to me; I can dispose of it already. Do you want Naples? I will take it from Joseph, who, by the by, does not care for it; he prefers Mortefontaine. Italy—the most beautiful jewel in my imperial crown? Eugéne is but viceroy, and, far from despising it. he hopes only that I shall give itetommim, or, atcleast, leaveitytothim ifyhessurvives me; he is) likely to be disappointed in waiting, for I shall live ninety years. I must, for the perfect consolidation of my empire. Besides, Eugéne will not suit me in Italy after his mother is divorced. Spain? Do you not see it falling into the hollow of my hand, thanks to the blunders of my dear Bcurbons, and to the follies of your friend, the Prince of Peace? Would you not be well pleased to reign there, where you have been only ambassador? Once for all, what do you want? Speak! Whatever you wish, or can wish, is yours if your divorce precedes mine.’ ”’ Until midnight the two brothers wrestled with the ques- tion between them. Neither would abandon his position; and when Lucien finally went away, his face was wet with tears. To Méneval, who conducted him to his inn in the town, he said, in bidding him carry his farewell to the em- peror, “‘ It may be forever.” It was not. Seven years later the brothers met again, but the map of Europe was forever rolled up for Napoleon. The essential point in carrying out the Tilsit plan was, the fidelity of Alexander; and Napoleon resolved, before going into the Spanish war, to meet the Emperor of Russia. 1805 SSIA. OF RU ALEXANDER I 202 DISASTER IN SPAIN 203 This was the more needful, because Austria had begun to show signs of hostility. The meeting took place in September, 1807, at Erfurt, in Saxony, and lasted a month. Napoleon acted as host, and prepared a splendid entertainment for his guests. The com- pany he had gathered was most brilliant. Beside the Rus- sian and French emperors, with ambassadors and suites, were the Kings of Saxony, Bavaria, and Wurtemberg, the Prince Primate, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, the Dukes of Saxony, and the Princes of the Confed- eration of the Rhine. The palaces where the emperors were entertained, were furnished with articles from the Garde-Meuble of France. The leading actors of the Théatre Francais gave the best French tragedies to a house where there was, as Napoleon had promised Talma, a “parterre full of kings.”’ There was a hare hunt on the battle-field of Jena, to which even Prince William of Prussia was invited, and where the party breakfasted on the spot where Napoleon had bivouacked in 1806, the night before the battle. There were balls where Pvlexandetedanced, sabitenotel. as wiete thesemperon to. |o- sephine; “forty years are forty years.”’ Goethe and Wie- land were both presented to Napoleon at Erfurt, and the emperor had long conversations with them. In spite of these gayeties Napoleon and Alexander found time to renew their Tilsit agreement. They were to make war and peace together. Alexander was to uphold Napo- leon in giving Joseph the throne of Spain, and to keep the continent tranquil during the Peninsular war. Napo- leon was to support Alexander in getting possession of Fin- land, Moldavia, and Wallachia. ‘The two emperors were to write and sign a letter inviting England to join them in peace negotiations. This was done promptly; but when England insisted that MARSHAL LEFEBVRE. ABOUT 1796. Engraved in 1798 by Fiesinger, after Mengelberg, z / g 204 DISASTER IN SPAIN 205 representatives of the government which was acting in Spain in the name of Ferdinand VII. should be admitted to the proposed meeting, the peace negotiations abruptly ended. Under the circumstances Napoleon could not recognize that government. The emperor was ready to conduct the Spanish war. His first move was to send into the country a large body of vet- erans from Germany. Before this time the army had been made up of young recruits upon whom the Spanish looked with contempt. The men, inexperienced and demoralized by the kind of guerrilla warfare which was waged against them, had become discouraged. The worst feature of their case was that they did not believe in the war. That brave story-teller Marbot relates frankly how he felt: “As a soldier I was bound to fight any one who attacked the French army, but I could not help recognizing in my inmost conscience that our cause was a bad one, and that the Spaniards were quite right in trying to drive out strangers who, after coming among them in the guise of friends, were wishing to dethrone their sovereign and take forcible possession of the kingdom. This war, therefore. seemed to me wicked; but I was a soldier, and I must march or be charged with cowardice. The greater part of the army thought as I did, and, like me, obeyed orders all the same.” The appearance of the veterans and the presence of the emperor at once put a new face on the war; the morale of the army was raised, and the respect of the Spaniards inspired. The emperor speedily made his way to Madrid, though he had to fight three battles to get there, and began at once a work of reorganization. Decree followed decree. Feudal rights were abolished, the inquisition was ended, the number of convents was reduced, the custom-houses between the various provinces were done away with, a political and mili- tary programme was made out for King Joseph. Many bulletins were sent to the Spanish people. In all of them they were told that it was the [English who were their ene- 206 LIFE OF NAPOLEON mies, not their allies; that they came to the Peninsular not to help, but to inspire to false confidence, and to lead them astray. Napoleon’s plan and purpose could not be mistaken. ‘Spaniards [he proclaimed at Madrid], your destinies are in my hands. Reject the poison which the English have spread among you; let your king be certain of your love and your confidence, and you will be more powerful and happier than ever. I have destroyed all that was opposed to your prosperity and greatness; I have broken the fetters which weighed upon the people; a liberal constitution gives you, instead of an absolute, a tempered and constitutional monarchy. It depends upon you that this constitution shall become law. But if all my efforts prove useless, and if you do not respond to my con- fidence, it will only remain for me to treat you as conquered provinces, and to find my brother another throne. I shall then place the crown of Spain on my own head, and I shall know how to make the wicked tremble; for God has given me the power and the will necessary to surmount all obstacles.”’ | But a flame had been kindled in Spain which no number of Napoleonic bulletins could quench—a fanatical frenzy in- spired by the priests, a blind passion of patriotism. The Spaniards wanted their own, even if it was feudal and oppressive. A constitution which they had been forced to accept, seemed to them odious and shameful, if liberal. The obstinacy and horror of their resistance was nowhere ‘so tragic and so heroic as at the siege of Saragossa, going on at the time Napoleon, at Madrid, was issuing his decrees and proclamations. Saragossa had been fortified when the insurrection against King Joseph broke out. The town was surrounded by convents, which were turned into forts. Men, women, and children took up arms, and the priests, cross in hand, and dagger at the belt, led them. No word of sur- render was tolerated within the walls. At the beginning Napoleon regarded the defence of Saragossa as a small affair, and wished to try persuasion on the people. There was at Paris a well-known Aragon noble whom he urged to go to Saragosa and calm the popular excitement. The man DISASTER IN SPAIN 207 accepted the mission. When he arrived in the town the people hurried forth to meet him, supposing he had come to aid in the resistance. At the first word of submission he spoke he was assailed by the mob, and for nearly a year lay in a dungeon. The peasants of the vicinity of Saragossa were quartered in the town, each family being given a house to defend. Nothing could drive them from their posts. They took an oath to resist until death, and regarded the probable destruc- tion of themselves and their families with stoical indiffer- ence. The priests had so aroused their religious exultation, and were able to sustain it at such a pitch, that they never wavered before the daily horrors they endured. The French at first tried to drive them from their posts by sallies made into the town, but the inhabitants. rained such a murderous fire upon them from towers, roofs, win- dows, even the cellars, that they were obliged to retire. Ex- asperated by this stubborn resistance they resolved to blow up the town, inch by inch. The siege was begun in the most terrible and destructive manner, but the people were un- moved by the danger. ‘* While a house was being mined, and the dull sound of the rammers warned them that death was at hand, not one left the house which he had sworn to defend, and we could hear them singing litanies. Then, at the moment the walls flew into the air and fell back with a crash, crushing the greater part of them, those who had es- caped would collect about the ruins, and sheltering them- selves behind the slightest cover, would recommence their sharpshooting.” Marshal Lannes commanded before Saragossa. Touched by the devotion and the heroism of the defenders, he pro- posed an honorable capitulation. The besieged scorned the proposition, and the awful process of undermining went on until the town was practically blown to pieces. BERNADOTTE. ABOUT 1798. Engraved by Fiesinger, after Guérin. 208 DISASTER IN SPAIN 209 For such resistance there was no end but extermination. For the first time in his career Napoleon had met sublime popular patriotism, a passion betore which diplomacy, flat- tery, love of gain, force, lose their power. It was for but a short time that the emperor could give his personal attention to the Spanish war. Certain wheels in his great machine were not revolving smoothly. In his own capital, Paris, there was friction among certain influen- tial persons. The peace of the Continent, necessary to the Peninsular war, and which Alexander had guaranteed, was threatened. Under these circumstances it was impossible to remain in Spain. ‘PHY JoyV ‘ASLISVW AHL JO AAD FUL O 21 CHAPTER XVI TALLEYRANDS TREACHERY—THE CAMPAIGN OF 1809— W AGRAM WO unscrupulous and crafty men, both of singular ability, caused the interior trouble which called Na- poleon from Spain. These men were Talleyrand and Fouche. The latter we saw during the Consulate as Minister of Police. Since, he had been once dismissed be- cause of his knavery, and restored, largely for the same quality. His cunning was too valuable to dispense with. The former, Talleyrand, made Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1799, had handled his negotiations with the extraordinary skill for which he was famous, until, in 1807, Napoleon’s mistrust of his duplicity, and Talleyrand’s own dislike for the details of his position, led to the portfolio being taken from him, and he being made Vice-Grand-Elector. He evidently expected, in accepting this change, to remain as influential as ever with Napoleon. The knowledge that the emperor was dispensing with his services made him resentful, and his de- votion to the imperial cause fluctuated according to the at- tention he received. Now, Napoleon’s course in Spain had been undertaken at the advice of Talleyrand, largely, and he had repeated con- stantly, in the early negotiations, that France ought not to allow a Bourbon to remain enthroned at her borders. Yet, as the affair went on, he began slyly to talk against the enter- prise. At Erfurt, where Napoleon had been impolitic enough to take him, he initiated himself into Alexander’s 2 Tl. 212 LIFE OF NAPOLEON good graces, and prevented Napoleon's policy towards Aus- tria being carried out. When Napoleon returned to Spain, Talleyrand and Fouche, who up to this time had been ene- mies, becarne friendly, and even appeared in public, arm in arm. If Talleyrand and Fouche had made up, said the Par- isians, there was mischief brewing. Napoleon was not long in knowing of their reconciliation. He learned more, that the two crafty plotters had written Murat that in the event of “ something happening,” that 1s, of Napoleon’s death or overthrow, they should organize a movement. to call him to the head of affairs; that, accord- ingly, he must hold himself ready. Napoleon returned to Paris immediately, removed Talley- rand from his position at court, and, at a gathering of high officials, treated him to one of those violent harangues with which he was accustomed to flay those whom he would dis- grace and dismiss. “You are a thief, a coward, a man without honor; you do not believe in God; you have all your life been a traitor to your duties; you have deceived and betrayed everybody; nothing is sacred to you; you would sell your own father. I have loaded you down with gifts, and there is nothing you would not undertake against me. For the past _ ten months you have been shameless enough, because you supposed, rightly or wrongly, that my affairs in Spain were going astray. to say to all who would listen to you that you always blamed my under- takings there; whereas it was you yourself who first put it into my head, and who persistently urged it. And that man, that unfortunate [he meant the Duc d’Enghien], by whom was I advised of the place of his residence? Who drove me to deal cruelly with him? What, then. are you aiming at? What do you wish for? What do you hope? Do you dare to say? You deserve that I should smash you like a wine- glass. I can do it, but I despise you too much to take the trouble.” All of this was undoubtedly true, but, after having pub- licly said it, there was but one safe course for Napoleon—to put Talleyrand where he could no longer continue his plot- ting. He made the mistake, however, of leaving him at large. TAREE KAN DSR EAGHERY 213 The disturbance of the Continental peace came from Aus- tria. Encouraged by Napoleon’s absence in Spain, and the withdrawal of troops from Germany, and urged by Eng- land to attempt to again repair her losses, Austria had hastily armed herself, hoping to be able to reach the Rhine be- tore Napoleon couldecollectwhisiiorcesand meet her, At this moment Napoleon could command about the same number of troops as the Austrians, but they were scat- tered in all directions, while the enemy’s were already consolidated. The question became, then, whether he could get his troops together before the Austrians attacked. From every direction he hurried them across France and Germany towards Ratisbonne. On the 12th of April he heard in Paris Hidtetiematistianowiacmcnosccd tne) nie Onethe 17th the emperor was in his headquarters at Donauworth, his army well in hand. “ Neither in ancient or modern times,” says Jomini, “* will one find anything which equals in celerity and admirable precision the opening of this campaign.”’ In the next ten days a series of combats broke the Austrian army, drove the Archduke Charles, with his main force, north of the Danube, and opened the road to Vienna to the French. On the 12th of May, one month from the day he left Paris, Napoleon wrote from Schonbrunn, “ We are masters of Vienna.” The city had been evacuated. Napoleon lay on the right bank of the Danube; the Aus- trian army under the Archduke Charles was coming to- wards the city by the left bank; it was to be a hand-to-hand struggle under the walls of Vienna. The emperor was un- certain of the archduke’s plans, but he was determined that he should not have a chance to reenforce his army. The battle must be fought at once, and he prepared to go across the river to attack him. The place of crossing he chose was south of Vienna, where the large island Lobau divides the stream. Bridges had to built for the passage, and it was jo TPE] 9y) ul sSuey MOU + ‘SoT[I@si9A ye sapqeg ‘9EQI JO UOJMS DY} UL pazIqryXd JsIY seM ‘JoUIZA DdRIOF_ Aq ‘Qinjord siyy “WVYOVM dO AILLVE 214 TALDUEY RAND Sit REACHERY ay with the greatest difficulty that the work was accomplished, for the river was high and the current swift, and anchors and boats were scarce. Again and again the boats broke apart. Nevertheless, about thirty thousand of the French got over, and took possession of the villages of Aspern and Kssling, where they were attacked on May 21st by some eighty thousand Austrians. The battle which followed lasted all day, and the French sustained themselves heroically. That night reenforce- ments were gotten over, so that the next day some fifty-five thousand men were on the French side. Napoleon fought with the greatest obstinacy, hoping that another’ division would soon succeed in getting over, and would enable him to overcome the superior numbers of the Austrians. AI- ready the battle was becoming a hand-to-hand fight, when the terrible news came that the bridge over the Danube had gone down. . The Austrians had sent floating down the swollen river great mills, fire-boats, and masses of timber fastened together in such a way as to become battering- rams of frightful power when carried by the rapid stream. All hope of aid was gone, and, as the news spread, the AiiiveresloneusitcclimtOnpenisnasword invhand. ~The car- nage which followed was horrible. Towards evening one of the bravest of the French marshals, Lannes, was fataliy wounded. It seemed as if fortune had determined on the loss of the French, and Napoleon decided to retreat to the island of Lobau, where he felt sure that he could main- tain his position, and secure supplies from the army on the right bank, until he had time to build bridges and unite his forces. Communications were soon established with the right bank, but the isle of Lobau was not deserted; it was used, in fact, as a camp for the next few weeks, while Na- poleon was sending to Italy, to France, and to Germany, for 216 LIFE OF NAPOLEON new troops. A heavy reenforcement came to him from Italy with news which did much to encourage him. When the war began, an Austrian army had invaded Italy, and at first had success in its engagements against the French under the Viceroy of Italy, Eugéne de Beauharnais. The news of the ill-luck of the Austrians at home, and of the march on Vienna, had discouraged the leader, Archduke John, brother of Archduke Charles, and he had retreated, Eugene following. Such were the successes of the French on this retreat, that the Austrians finally retired out of their way, leaving them a free route to Vienna, and Eugene soon united his army to that of the emperor. With the greatest rapidity the French now secured and strengthened their communications with Italy and with France, and gathered troops about Vienna. The whole month of June was passed in this way, hostile Europe re- peating the while that Napoleon was shut in by the Aus- trians and could not move, and that he was idling his time in luxury at the castle of Schonbrunn, where he had estab- lished his headquarters. But this month of apparent in- activity was only a feint. By the 1st of July the French Army had reached one hundred and fifty thousand men. Thev were in admirable condition, well drilled, fresh, and confident. Their communications were strong, their camps good, and they were eager for battle. The Austrians were encamped at Wagram, to the north of the Danube. They had fortified the banks opposite the island of Lobau 1n a manner which they believed would pre- vent the French from attempting a passage; but in arrang- ing their fortification they had completely neglected a certain portion of the bank on which Napoleon seemed to have no designs. But this was the point, naturally, which Napoleon chose for his passage, and on the might of July 4th he effected it. On the morning of the 5th his whole army of TALLEYRANDS TREACHERY 217 one hundred and fifty thousand men, with four hundred batteries, was on the left bank. In the midst of a terrible storm this great mass of men, with all its equipments, had crossed the main Danube, several islands and channels, had built six bridges, and by daybreak had arranged itself in order. It was an unheard-of feat. Pushing his corps forward, and easily sweeping out of his way the advance posts, Napoleon soon had his line facing that of the Austrians, which stretched from near the Danube to a point east of Wagram. At seven o’clock on the evening of July 5th the French attacked the left and centre of the enemy, but without driving them from their position. The next morning it was the Archduke Charles who took the offensive, making a movement which changed the whole battle. He attacked the French left, which was nearest the river, with fifty thousand men, intending to get on their line of communication and destroy the bridges across the Danube. The troops on the French centre were obliged to hurry off to prevent this, and the army was weakened for a moment, but not long. Napoleon determined to make the Archduke Charles, who in person commanded this attack on the French left, return, not by following him, but by breaking his centre; and he turned his heavy batteries against this portion of the army, and followed them by a cavalry attack, which routed the enemy. At the same time their left was broken, and the troops which had been en- gaging it were free to hurry off against the Austrian right, which was trying to reach the bridges, and which were be- ing held in check with difficulty at Essling. As soon as the archduke saw what had happened to his left and centre he retired, preferring to preserve as much as possible of his army in good order. The French did not pursue. The battle had cost them too heavily. But if the Austrians escaped from Wagram with their army, and if their opponents THE LITTLE CORPORAL. This statue of Napoleon in the costume of the Petit Caporal, from the chisel of Seurre, was placed on the column of the Place Vendome, on July 28, 1835. It succeeded on the pedestal the white flag of the Bourbons, which in its turn had replaced the original statue of ‘* Napo- léon en César Romain,” by Chaudet. An in- teresting detail, unknown to most Parisians, is that the equestrian statue of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf was cast with the bronze of Chaudet’s Napoleon. When Napoleon III. ascended the throne, he replaced the ‘ Petit Caporal”’ of Seurre (whose decorative appearance he did not consider “assez dynastique’’) by a copy of Chaudet’s ‘“‘ César,’”? made by the sculptor Dru- mont. That figure still crowns the summit of the column, which was re-erected after the desecra- tion by the Commune.—A. D. 218 TALLEYRAND’S TREACHERY 219 gained little more than the name of a victory, they were too discouraged to continue the war, and the emperor sued for peace. 3 This peace was concluded in October. Austria was forced to give up Trieste and all her Adriatic possessions, to cede territory to Bavaria and to the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, and to give her consent to the continental system. MARIE LOUISE IN ROYAL ROBES. 1810. ce Marie Louise, Archduchess d’Autriche, Impé€ratrice, Reine, et Régente.” Engraved by Mecou, after Isabey. 220 ea Rea THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE—AN HEIR TO THE CROWN O further the universal peace he desired, to prevent plots among his subordinates who would aspire to his crown in case of his sudden death, and to assure a succession, Napoleon now decided to take a step long in mind—to divorce Josephine, by whom he no longer hoped to have heirs. In considering Napoleon's divorce of Josephine, it must be remembered that stability of government was of vital necessity to the permanency of the Napoleonic institutions. Napoleon had turned into practical realities most of the re- forms demanded in 1789. True, he had done it by the exer- cise of despotism, but nothing but the courage, the will, the audacity of a despot could have aroused the nation in 1799. Napoleon felt that these institutions had been so short a time in operation that in case of his death they would easily topple over, and his kingdom go to pieces as Alexander’s had. If he could leave an heir, this disaster would, he believed, be - averted. Then, would not a marriage with a foreign princess calm the fears of his Continental enemies? Would they not see in such an alliance an effort on the part of new, liberai France to adjust herself harmoniously to the system of gov- ernment which prevailed on the Continent ? Thus, by a new marriage, he hoped to prevent at his death a series of fresh revolutions, save the splendid organi- zation he had created, and put France in greater harmony 223) hres LIFE OF NAPOLEON with her environment. It is to misunderstand Napoleon’s scheme, to attribute this divorce simply to a gigantic ego- tism. To assure his dynasty, was to assure France of liberal institutions. Hus glorification was his country’s. In reality there were the same reasons for divorcing Josephine that there had been for taking the crown in 1804. Josephine had long feared a separation. The Bonapartes had never cared for her, and even so far back as the Egyptian campaign had urged Napoleon to seek a divorce. Unwisely, she had not sought in her early married life to win their affection any more than she had.to keep Napoleon’s; and when the emperor was crowned, they had done their best to prevent her coronation. When, for state reasons, the divorce seemed necessary, Josephine had no_ supporters where she might have had many. Her grief was more poignant because she had come to love her husband with a real ardor. The jealousy from which he had once suffered she now felt, and Napoleon certainly gave her ample cause for it. Her anxiety was well known to all the court, the secretaries Bourrienne and Mé- neval, and Madame de Rémusat being her special confi- dants. Since 1807 it had been intense, for it was in that vear that Fouche, probably at Napoleon’s instigation, tried to persuade the empress to suggest the divorce herself as her sacrifice to the country. After Wagram it became evident to her that at last her fate was sealed; but though she beset Méneval and all the members of her household for information, it was only a fortnight before the public divorce that she knew her fate. It was Josephine’s own son and daughter, Eugéne and Hor- tense, who broke the news to her; and it was on the former that the cruel task fell of indorsing the divorce in the Sen- ate in the name of himself and his sister. Josephine was terribly broken by her disgrace, but she THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 223 bore it with a sweetness and dignity which does much to make posterity forget her earlier frivolity and insincerity. “IT can never forget [says Pasquier] the evening on which the dis- carded empress did the honors of her court for the last time. It was the day before the official dissolution. A great throng was present, and supper was served, according to custom, in the gallery of Diana, on a number of little tables. Josephine sat at the centre one, and the men went around her, waiting for that particularly gracetul nod which she was in the habit of bestowing on those with whom she was acquainted. I stood at a short distance from her for a few minutes, and I could not help being struck with the perfection of her attitude in the presence of all these people who still did her homage, while knowing full well that it was for the last time; that in an bour she would descend from the throne, and leave the palace never to reénter it. Only women can rise superior to such a situation, but I have my doubts as to whether a second one could have been found to do it with such perfect grace and composure. Napoleon did not show so bold a front as did his victim.” There is no doubt but that Napoleon suffered deeply over the separation. If his love had lost its illusion, he was genuinely attached to Josephine, and 1n a way she was neces- sary to his happiness. After the ceremony of separation, he was to go to Saint Cloud, she to Malmaison. While waiting for his carriage, he returned to his study in the palace. For a long time he sat silent and depressed, his head on his hand. When he was summoned he rose, his face distorted with pain, and went into the empress’s apart- ment. Josephine was alone. When she saw the emperor, she threw herself on his neck, sobbing aloud. He pressed her to his bosom, kissed her again and again, until overpowered with emotion, she fainted. Leaving her to her women, he hurried to his car- riage. Méneval, who saw this sad parting, remained with Josephine until she became conscious. When he left, she begged him not to let the emperor forget her, and to see that he wrote her often. NAPOLEON. Engraved in 1841 by Louis, after a painting made in 1837 by Delaroche, now in the Standish collection, and called the ‘ Snuff-box.’’ Probably the finest engraving ever made of a Napoleon portrait. THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 225 “I left her,” that naive admirer and apologist of Na- ‘“ grieved at so deep a sorrow and so sincere an affection. I felt very miserable all along my route, and 1 could not help deploring that the rigorous exactions of politics should violently break the bonds of an affection which had stood the test of time, to impose another union full of uncertainty.” poleon goes on, Josephine returned to Malmaison to live, but Napoleon took care that she should have, in addition, another home, giving her Navarre, a chateau near Evreux, some fifty miles from Paris. She had an income of some four hundred thousand dollars a year, and the emperor showed rare thoughtfulness in providing her with everything she could want. She was to deny herself nothing, take care of her health, pay no attention to the gossip she heard, and never doubt of his love. Such were the recommendations of the frequent letters he wrote her. Sometimes he went to see her, and he told her all the details of his life. It is certain that he neglected no opportunity of comforting her, and that she, on her side, finally accepted her lot with resignation and kindliness. Over two years before the divorce a list of the marriage- able princesses of Europe had been drawn up for Napoleon. This list included eighteen names in all, the two most promi- nent being Marie Louise of Austria, and Anna Paulowna, Sisteteot pwexander- or Kiussidewe it the HM Giurt conterence the project of a marriage with a Russian princess had been discussed, and Alexander had favored it; but now that an attempt was made to negotiate the affair, there were nu- merous delays, and a general lukewarmness which angered Napoleon. Without waiting for the completion of the Rus- sian negotiations, he decided on Marie Louise. The marriage ceremony was performed in Vienna on March 12, 1810, the Archduke Charles acting for Napoleon. ZEQI FO UOIDS IY} UI pez qiyxs sem sinjold sIYT, “Yosay [eurpiey Aq UIAIS SCM UOTPIpsusq jeydnu syy, “Uspeg fo ssayond puedt) sy} :AjeyT JO UIInNG)-ad1A 94} ‘3inqzin AA jo 94nq pueIn 9y} isojdeN jo UseNH oY} soul[ned ssooUltq 94} +AUROSHY], JO ssoyonq puriry 24} usen() 94} tpueyjoH Jo usenG 9} + : JO 32] 942 OL “OPV[WY pUeIt-991\ VOUTIG I Serpeydysa A, jo suredgG JO Us9nG 94} /a4gu auIepey ‘ssordwia ay} SY} sapqeysuos-991 A 9OULIG 94} Stainsestj}-yoiy soul dy} f1o]Jeoueyo-yoIy doULIg 94} ‘uspeg Jo IAN purity Areppotoy 94} 'A]eIT Jo Aorsd1A\ ‘uoajoden fasoyS1Og IUlIg 94} seTeydjso\\ JO Sury 9Y} ‘pue][oF] jo Suly JI S,10todtus 94} UG “9fgI Ur JoBnoYy Ag 94} poojys ‘wa40F}V]d dy} FO pus TOMO] IY} JY pues pueYy JYSII s, OIQI *@ Ilddv “HYANOT AHL ‘ASIQOT AIYVN UNV NOWIOdVN HOUTdNA AHL 10 ADVINaAVN 40 HOVIVd AHL Lv “VINLSNV dO SSHHONGHOUV 226 THE DIVORCE—A NEW WIFE 22 The emperor first saw his new wife some days later on the road between Soissons and Compiegne, where he had gone to meet her in most unimperial haste, and in contradiction to the pompous and complicated ceremony which had been arranged for their first interview. From the beginning he was frankly delighted with Marie Louise. In fact, the new empress was a most attractive girl, young, fresh, modest well-bred, and innocent. She entirely filled Napoleon’s ideal of a wife, and he certainly was happy with her. Marie Louise in marrying Napoleon had felt that she was a kind of sacrificial offering, for she had naturally a deep horror of the man who had caused her country so much woe; but her dread was soon dispelled, and she be- came veryerondsot heqenushand, Wutside of thevcourt the two led an amusingly simple life, riding together inform- ally early in the morning, in a gay Bohemian way; sitting together alone in the empress’s little salon, she at her needle- work, he with a book. They even indulged now and then in quiet little larks of their own, as one day when Marie Louise attempted to make an omelet in her apartments. Just as she was completely engrossed in her work, the emperor came in. The empress tried to conceal her culinary operations, but Napoleon detected the odor. “What is going on here? There is a singular smell, as if something was being fried. What, you are making an omelet! Bah! you don’t know how to do it. I will show you how it is done.” And he set to work to instruct her. They got on very well until it came to tossing it, an operation Napoleon in- sisted on performing himself, with the result that he landed it on the floor. On March 20, 1811, the long-desired heir to the French throne was born. It had been arranged that the birth of the child should be announced to the people by cannon shot; 228 LIFE OF NAPOLEON twentv-one if it were a princess, one hundred and one if a prince. The people who thronged the quays and streets about the Tuileries waited with inexpressible anxiety as the cannon boomed forth; one—two—three. As twenty-one died away the city held its breath; then came twenty-two. the thundering peals which followed it were drowned in the wild enthusiasm of the people. For days afterward, ener- vated by joy and the endless fétes given them, the French drank and sang to the King of Rome. In all these rejoicings none were so touching as at Na- varre, where Josephine, on hearing the cannon, called to- gether her friends and said, “ We, too, must have a /féte. I shall give you a ball, and the whole city of Evreux must come and rejoice with us.” Napoleon was the happiest of men, and he devoted himself to his son with pride. Reports of the boy’s condition appear frequently in his letters; he even allowed him to be taken without the empress’s knowledge to Josephine, who had begged to see him. Ole DAM EAR sinc! AVG TROD BLEW LCE © PEs PORE—— THES CONSGRIPTION=-—EVASIONS OF THE BLOCKADE THE TILSIT AGREEMENT BROKEN se HIS child in concert with our Eugene will constitute our happiness and that of France,’ so Napoleon had written Josephine after the birth of the King of Rome, but it soon became evident that he was wrong. There were causes of uneasiness and discontent in France which had been operating for a long time, and which were only aggravated by the apparent solidity that an heir gave to the Napoleonic dynasty. First among these was religious disaffection. Towards the end of 1808, being doubtful of the Pope’s loyalty, Na- poleon had sent French troops to Rome; the spring follow- ing, without any plausible excuse, he had annexed four Papal States to the kingdom of Italy; and in 1809 the Pope had been made a prisoner at Savona. When the divorce was asked, it was not the Pope, but the clergy, of Paris, who had granted it. When the religious marriage of Marie Louise and Napoleon came to be celebrated, thirteen cardi- nals refused to appear; the * black cardinals”’ they were thereafter called, one of their punishments for non-appear- ance at the wedding being that they could no longer wear their red gowns. To the pious all this friction with the fathers of the Church was a deplorable irritation. It was impossible to show contempt for the authority of Pope and cardinals and not wound one of the deepest sentiments of France, and one which ten years before Napoleon had braved most to satisfy. 229 bie ure a ae TAINEBLEAU. ilkie. N 836 b N CONFERENCE AT FO I VII Ss NAPOLEON AND POPE PI I y W a ae de ing ma , after a painti inson ngraved by Rob 4 ~ 230 WiR@ Wiie rey le he POE 2 To the irritation against the emperor’s church policy was added bitter resentment against the conscription, that tax of blood and muscle demanded of the country. Napoleon had formulated and attempted to make tolerable the prin- ciple born of the Revolution, which declared that every male citizen of age owed the state a service of blood in case it needed him. The wisdom of his management of the con- scription had prevented discontent until 1807; then the draft on life had begun to be arbitrary and grievous. The laws of exemptions were disregarded. The “only son of his mother * no longer remained at her’side. Uhe-father whose little children were motherless must leave them; aged and helpless parents no longer gave immunity. Those who had bought their exemption by heavy sacrifices were obliged to go. Persons whom the law made subject to conscription in 1807, were called out in 1806; those of 1808, in 1807. So far was this premature drafting pushed, that the armies were said to be made up of “ boy soldiers,’’. weak, unformed youths, fresh from school, who wilted in a sun like that of Spain, and dropped out 1n the march. At the rate at which men had been killed, however, there was no other way of keeping up the army. Between 1804 and 1811 one million seven hundred thousand men had perished in battle. What wonder that now the boys of France were pressed into service! At the same time the country was overrun with the lame, the blind, the broken- down, who had come back from war to live on their friends or on charity. It was not only the funeral crape on almost every door which made Frenchmen hate the conscription, it was the crippled men whom they met at every corner. While within, the people fretted over the religious dis- turbances and the abuses of the conscription, without, the continental blockade was causing serious trouble between Napoleon and the kings he ruled. In spite of all his efforts THE KING OF ROME. I8II. Engraved by Desnoyers, after Gérard. ‘‘ His Majesty the King of Rome. Dedicated to her Majesty Imperial and Royal, Marie Louise.” iS) 2 bo CROU SIE AWiErTe DEE POPE 2g English merchandise penetrated everywhere. The fair at Rotterdam in 1807 was filled with English goods. They passed into Italy under false seals. They came into France on pretence that they were for the empress. Napoleon re- monstrated and threatened, but he could not check the traffic. The most serious trouble caused by this violation of the Berlin Decree was with Louis, King of Holland. In 1808 Napoleon complained to his brother that more than one hundred ships passed between his kingdom and England every month, and a year later he wrote in desperation, “Holland is an English province.” The relations of the brothers grew more and more bitter. Napoleon resented the half support Louis gave him, and as a punishment he took away his provinces, filled his forts with French troops, threatened him with war if he did not break up the trade. So far did these hostilities go, that in the summer of 1810 King Louis abdicated in favor of his son and retired to Austria. Napoleon tried his best to per- suade him at least to return into French territory, but he refused. This break was the sadder because Louis was the brother for whom Napoleon had really done most. Joseph was not happier than Louis. The Spanish war still went on, and no better than in 1808. Joseph, hum- bled and unhappy, had even prayed to be freed of the throne. The relations with Sweden were seriously strained. Since 1810 Bernadotte had been by adoption the crown prince of that country. Although he had emphatically refused, in accepting the position, to agree never to take up arms against France, as Napoleon wished him to do, he had later con- sented to the continental blockade, and had declared war against England; but this declaration both England and Sweden considered simply as a facon de parler. Napoleon, conscious that Bernadotte was not carrying out the blockade, and irritated by his persistent refusal to enter into French ‘‘ NAPOLEON IN HIS CABINET.” THE CHILD AT HIS SIDE IS HIS SON, THE KING OF ROME. The manuscript on the floor of the cabinet bears the date ‘‘1811.”’ Engraved by Weber, after Steuben. i 234 TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 235 combinations, and pay tribute to carry on French wars, had suppressed his revenues as a French prince—Bernadotte had been created Prince of Ponte-Corvo in 1806—had refused {o communicate with him, and when the King of Rome was born had sent back the Swedish decoration offered. Finally, in January, 1812, French troops invaded certain Swedish possessions, and the country concluded an alliance with England and Russia. With Russia, the “other half’’ of the machine, the ally upon whom the great plan of Tilsit and Erfurt depended, there was such a bad state of feeling that, in 1811, it became certain that war would result. Causes had been accumu- lating upon each side since the Erfurt meeting. The continental system weighed heavily on the interests of Russia. The people constantly rebelled against it and evaded it in every way. The business depressions from which they suffered they charged to Napoleon, and a strong party arose in the empire which used every method of showing the czar that the “ unnatural alliance,” as they called the agreement between Alexander and Napoleon, was un- popular. The czar-could not refuse to listen to this party. More, he feared that Napoleon was getting ready to restore Poland. He was offended by the haste with which his ally had dismissed the idea of marriage with his sister and had taken up Marie Louise. He complained of the changes of boundaries in Germany. Napoleon, on his part, saw with irritation that English goods were admitted into Russia. He 1esented the failure of Alexander to join heartily in the wide- sweeping application he had made of the Berlin and Milan Decrees, and to persecute neutral flags of all nations, even of those so far away from the Continent as the United States. He remembered that Russia had not supported him loyally in 1809. He was suspicious, too, of the good understand- THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT. Engraved by W Thomas Lawrence. 1r after S Bromley, . 236 TROUBLE WITH THE POPE 237 ing which seemed to be growing between Sweden, Russia, and England. During many months the two emperors remained in a half-hostile condition, but the strain finally became too great. War was inevitable, and Napoleon set about preparing for the struggle. During the latter months of 1811 and the first of 1812 his attention was given almost entirely to the military and diplomatic preparations necessary before be- ginning the Russian campaign. By the Ist of May, 1812, he was ready to join his army, which he had centred at Dresden. Accompanied by Marie Louise he arrived at Dresden on the 16th of May, 1812, where he was greeted by the Emperor of Austria, the King of Prussia, and other sovereigns with whom he had formed alliances. The force Napoleon had brought to the field showed graphically the extension and the character of the France Cie oom incom eatinveolstwentyriations, the Russians called the host which was preparing to meet them, and the expression was just, for in the ranks there were Spaniards, Neapolitans, Piedmontese, Slavs, Kroats, Bavarians, Dutch- men, Poles, Romans, and a dozen other nationalities, side by side with Frenchmen. Indeed, nearly one-half the force was said to be foreign. The Grand Army, as the active body was called, numbered, to quote the popular figures, six hun- dred and seventy-eight thousand men. It is sure that this is an exaggerated number, though certainly over half a mil- lion men entered Russia. Wiauth reserves, the whole force nurnbered one million one hundred thousand. ‘The neces- sity for so large a body of reserves is explained by the length of the line of communication Napoleon had to keep. From the Nieman to Paris the way must be open, supply stations euarded, fortified towns equipped. It took nearly as many men to insure the rear of the Grand Army as it did to make up the army itself. Sag ETLALY——-BONA PART Keay Borne EGY ET UST a week before the marriage of Napoleon with Josephine he had been appointed general-in-chief of the Army of Italy, and two days after the marriage he left for his command. Josephine remained in Paris, at her home in the Rue Chantereine, a little relieved, probably, at the departure of her tempestuous lover. Certainly she was not sufficiently in love to be able to keep pace with the ardent letters which he sent her from every post on his route. She read them, to be sure; even showed them to her friends, pronouncing them drole; but her answers equalled them neither in number nor in warmth. Napoleon’s suffering and reproaches and prayers disturbed her peace. She could not love like this. Soon he began to beg her to come to Italy. The campaign was well started; he was winning victories. There was no reason why she should not join him; or come at least to Nice—to Milan. “ You will come,” he begs, “and quick. If you hesitate, 1f you delay, you will find me ill. Fatigue and your absence are too much for me. Take wings, come—come!”’ But Josephine did not want to leave Paris. Particularly now when she was reaping the first fruits of her young husband’s glory in an homage such as she had never known, but of which there is no doubt she had dreamed from child- 346 BONAPARTE GOES TO ITALY 347 hood. Napoleon’s victories had driven the Parisians wild with joy, and they asked nothing better than to adore the wife of the hero of the campaign. Scarcely two months, in fact, had passed, after leaving Paris before Napoleon sent back, by his brother Joseph and his aide Junot, twenty- one flags taken from the enemy. ‘They were received at a public session of the Directory. Josephine was present with Mme. Tallien, and when the two -beautiful women, ac- companied by Junot, left the Luxembourg, where the pre- sentation had taken place, there was such a demonstration as Paris had not seen over a woman in many a day. “ Look,” they cried," itis his waite! [sit she beautiful! ; Monevlive General Bonaparte! Long live the Citizeness Bonaparte! Long live Notre Dame des Victoires! ” New triumphs followed, and to celebrate them there was held a grand féte on May 29. There were balls at the Lux- embourg, gala nights at the theaters. And everywhere Josephine, the wife of the conquering general, was queen. And yet almost every night, when she returned from opera or ball, she found awaiting her a passionate appeal from Bonaparte to come to Italy. Several weeks she put him off, she pleaded the hardship of the trip, the dangers and discomforts she might have to undergo there, a hundred ex- cuses; and Bonaparte, in reply, only begged the more fiercely that she come. At last she could resist no longer, but she took no pains to conceal her sorrow at going. “ Her chagrin was ex- treme, when she saw there was no longer any way of es- caping,’ Arnault says, “she thought more of what she was going to leave than what she was going to find. She would have given the palace at Milan which had been pre- pared for her, she would have given all the palaces of the world, for her house in the Rue Chantereine. . . . She started for Italy from the Luxembourg, where she had 348 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE supped with some friends. Poor woman, she burst into tears and sobbed as if she was going to punishment—she who was going to reign.” It was the end of June before Josephine arrived in Milan. The palace which awaited her was the princely home of the Duke de Serbelloni ;—the society the choicest of Italy. She at once found herself literally living like a princess. Un- happily for her, however, there was no opportunity to re- main long quietly at Milan and enjoy the pleasures open to her. Bonaparte was in active campaign—unable to stay but a couple of days after her arrival, and he soon began to beg that she join him in the field. At the end of July, she did go to Brescia, where she experienced a series of ex- citing adventures. The Austrians were pressing close on the French—closer than Napoleon realized; twice he and she narrowly escaped capture together; once she was under fire. Finally Bonaparte was obliged to send her, by way of Bologne and Ferrara to Lucques, a journey that she made in safety, but in tears. Henceforth Josephine had an excellent reason for not joining her husband in the field. And Napoleon did not ask her to do so. All he asked now was letters, letters, letters. “Your health and your face are never out of my mind. I cannot be at peace until your letters are received aa were them impatiently. You cannot conceive my unrest.” And again,» L-do not love you at all;;on the contrary, Iedetest you. You are a wretched, awkward, stupid little thing. You do not write me any more at all; you do not love your husband. You know the pleasure that your letters give me, and yet write me not more than six lines and that by chance. What are you doing all day long, Madame? But seriously, | am very much disturbed, my dear, at not hearing from you. Write me four pages quickly of those kind of things which fill my heart with pleasure.” A few days later he writes, BONAPARTE GOES TO ITALY 349 “No letters from you. Truly that disturbs me. I am told you are well and that you have even been to Lake Como. I look impatiently every day for the courier who will bring me news of you.” And again,,‘* ] write you very often, my dear, and you write me so rarely.”” And so it went on through the entire summer and fall of 1796. While she re- ceived at Milan the honors due the wife of a conqueror who held the fate of states in his hands, he in the field ex- hausted himself in a frenzied struggle for victory—not vic- tory for himself, so he told Josephine, and so for a time, per- haps, he persuaded himself; but victory because it pleased her that he win it; honor because she set store by it; other- wise, said he, “I should leave all to throw myself at your Tec eae All this impetuous passion wearied Josephine more and more. No response was awakened in her heart. That she was proud of his love, there is no doubt. She told every- body of his devotion, as well she might: it was her passport to power. But she could not answer it in kind, and she found excuses for her neglect in her health, which was not good at this time, and in the social requirements of her brilliant and conspicuous position, and frequently, too, in the fact that the life at Milan, gay as it was, did not please her. She was homesick for Paris. “ Monsieur de Serbel- loni will tell you, my dear aunt,” she wrote early in Septem- ber, ‘‘ how I have been received in Italy, feted wherever I have gone, all the princes of Italy entertaining me, even the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Ah, well! I would rather be a simple private individual in France; I do not like the honors of this country, I am bored to death. It is true that my health does much to make me sad; I am not well at all. If happiness could bring health, I ought to be well. I have the kindest husband that one could possibly find; I have not time to want anything; my will is his; he is on his JOSEPHINE. By J. B. Isabey. (Collection of M. Edmond Taigny.) This portrait in crayon, lightly touched with color, was executed at Malmaison, probably in the course of the year 1798. It is very little known. Isabey, whose pencil was quick and sure, must have requested Josephine to pose for a few minutes after a walk in the park. This sketch was given to M. Taigny by Isabey him- self.—A. D. 350 BONAPARTE GOES TO ITALY 351 knees before me all day long, as if I were a divinity. One could not have a better husband. M. de Serbelloni will tell you how much I am loved; he writes often to my chil- dren and is very fond of them.” Not only did Josephine neglect to write to this “ best husband in the world ”’, as she herself called Bonaparte, but she spent many hours at Milan in conspicuous flirtations with young officers who were glad enough to pay her court. Vague rumors of these flirtations came to Napoleon’s ears, no doubt, though it is certain he thought little of them. There are references in his letters which might be attribu- ted to jealousy, but it is clear that his confidence in Joseph- ine at this time was such that a denial from her, an ag- erieved look, a tear of reproach, made him sue for pardon and forget his fears. Aside from her carelessness about writing to him, the gravest complaint that he had against her was her willing- ness to receive valuable gifts. The treasures of Italy were open to the French, and Bonaparte was sending quantities of rare art objects to Paris; but he declared it highly im- proper that any of these things or any private gifts should COs OmuiliimeOte icw Stites = |osephine: @however,: had) no scruples about gifts, and accepted gladly the jewels, pictures, and bibelots which were sent her. More than one scene resulted from this indiscretion, but it always ended in her keeping the treasure. She learned before she had been long in Italy not to tell the General what had been given her, or if he accused her of receiving gifts, to deny it. But unhappy as Josephine made Bonaparte in his absence by her neglect and her flirtations, she more than compen- sated for it by her amiabihty when he returned. He had reason soon, too, to see that by her tact she did much to help his cause in Italy. She was the embodiment of grace and cheerfulness, she was familiar with the ways of good 352 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE society, she had tact with the republican element of the country, which prided itself on its ideals and patriotism, and she appeased the nobles, who felt that she was one of them. Napoleon had reason to say of Josephine’s influence in Italy what he said later of her influence in Paris—that without it, he could never have accomplished what he did. Her value in his plans was particularly evident in the spring and summer of 1797, which they passed together, partly at the palace of Serbelloni and partly at the chateau of Monte- bello. Their life at this time was rather that of two crowned heads than that of a general of an army and his wife. They lived in the greatest state, protected by strict etiquette and surrounded by the officers of the army of Italy and representatives from Austria and the Italian states. Audiences with the General were daily sought by the greatest men of Italy. In all this pageant of power Josephine moved as naturally and easily as if she had been born to it. On every side she won friends; no one came to the chateau who did not go away to praise her good taste, her simplicity, her anxiety to please. She never interfered in politics either, they said, though she was ever willing to help a friend in securing the General’s favor; and all this praise was deserved. Josephine’s good-will was born of a kind heart. It was not merely the complacency of indolence; she had no malice, she felt kindly toward the whole world, she had all her life been willing to exhaust every resource in her power for her friends. She was willing to do so now, and she remained of this disposition to the end of her life. Such a character makes a man or woman loved in any age, in any society, whatever his faults. It made Josephine loved particularly in her age and her society, where genuine kind- ness was rare and where her peculiar faults—vices, perhaps one should say—were readily overlooked, particularly if they were handled discreetly. BONAPARTE GOES TO ITALY 353 The fall of 1797, Napoleon passed in negotiations with Austria. For a time Josephine was with him. Then rest- less and eager to see Italy, she left him in October and went to Venice, where a splendid reception was given her. From there she travelled as her fancy dictated in Northern Italy. Everywhere she went she was received royally, and loaded with gifts. She did not reach Paris until the first of Jan- uary, 1798, nearly a month after Napoleon. She came back to find her husband the most talked of man in Europe. She found, too, that her return was eagerly looked for because the General absolutely refused to be lionized—even to appear at public functions, without her. Her coming was thus the signal for a round of gaieties, where, it must be confessed, Bonaparte played rather the part of a bear. He would not leave Josephine’s side; he wanted to talk with her alone, and he openly declared that he would rather stay at home with her than go to the most brilliant reception Paris could offer. ~~] love my wite,” jhe said seriously to those who chaffed him or remonstrated. With all his dreams of ambition, it is certain that she filled his life as completely now as she had nearly two years before, when he married her. As for Josephine herself, she seems to have been completely satisfied now that she was in Paris. She was the centre of an admiring circle; she was loaded daily with presents, not only from cities and statesmen, but from shop-keepers and manufacturers, eager to have her ap- proval, to use her name. Not since her marriage had she been so contented. This satisfactory state of affairs was interrupted in May, when Bonaparte sailed for Egypt. Josephine went to Toulon to see him off, promising that she would soon follow him, and then retired to the springs at Plombieres for a season. It was fall before she returned to Paris. When she did return, it was to plunge into a round of frivolity and 354 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE extravagance. The most conspicuous of her indiscretions was the attentions she accepted from a young man—Hip- polyte Charles—a former adjutant to one of Napoleon's generals. She had known him before she went to Italy; indeed he had been in her party when she left for Milan in 1796. At Milan he had paid her so assiduous court and had been so encouraged that the news came to Napoleon's ears, and Charles was suddenly dismissed from the service. He had found a place in Paris—through Josephine’s in- fluence, the gossips said. At all events, this young man re-appeared now that Bonaparte was in Egypt, and became a constant visitor at her house; and when, the summer fol- lowing, she bought Malmaison and took possession, Charles Was her iirst ouestayy ay OU shad better ceteardivorcesiam Bonaparte and marry Charles,’ some of her plain-speaking friends told her. When people as little scrupulous as Josephine herself re- proved her, it can be imagined what the effect would be on the Bonaparte family, most of whom were now established in or near Paris. They had never cared for Josephine, and never had had much to do with her. Lucien and Joseph were the only members of the family who had seen her be- fore her marriage to Napoleon, and to all of them the mar- riage came as a shock, Bonaparte not having announced it even to his mother. They looked upon her as an interloper —one who might deprive them of some of the rewards of Bonaparte’s genius: these rewards the entire family seem to have felt from the first belonged to them and to them alone. No one of them had had, until this winter, much opportunity to study Josephine. They were irritated to find her so evidently a woman of higher rank than themselves; they were disgusted at her extravagance and indiscretion. Josephine, on her side, took little trouble to win them. After all, they were only Corsicans, and not amusing like BONAPAR DieGOrRS TO TTALGY 355 Napoleon. No doubt, she felt a little towards them as Alex- ander de Beauharnais had felt towards her when she first arrived in Paris—an untrained little islander, the province speaking in every gesture. To Josephine’s credit, let it be said, she never was guilty of trying to undermine the place of his family in her husband’s affections; she never opposed their advancement; she always, to the best of her ability, aided Napoleon in any plans he had for them. It is much more than can be said of the Bonapartes’ attitude towards the Beauharnais. Shocking to the Bonapartes as were Josephine’s flirta- tions, they looked on her extravagance with even more horror. To Madame Bonaparte, especially, it was an un- forgivable sin; and, in fact, extravagance could scarcely have gone farther. Bonaparte was not rich. Indeed he prided himself on having returned from Italy poor. But he had left a fair income in his brother Joseph’s hands—a part of which was to go to Josephine. She, in utter disregard of the amount of this income, lived in luxury, entertaining royally, and buying prodigally everything that pleased her fancy. ‘To meet her pressing demands, she borrowed right andsicit. Hinally, in) théessummer of 1700, she purchased Malmaison, a country seat at which she and Napoleon had looked before he left for Egypt. The purchasing price was about $50,000, and she had to borrow $3,000 for the advance payment. She went immediately to the place, running in debt for repairs and furnishings. Joseph Bonaparte was deeply disgusted by Josephine’s reckless expenditures, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she was able to get any money from him. He was the more disobliging because he and other members of the family believed that they now had proofs which surely would convince Napoleon that Josephine was faithless and would cause him to secure a divorce as soon as he returned 356 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE from Italy. And, indeed their cause had already advanced in Egypt far beyond their knowledge. Joseph had, before Napoleon’s sailing, put such suspicions of Josephine’s in- fidelity into his mind and referred him to such members of his own staff for proof, that the General once at sea had in- vestigated the matter and become convinced of the truth of the charges. The revelation caused him weeks of gloom. There was nothing left to live for, he wrote Joseph. At twenty-nine he was disillusioned. Honors wearied him, glory was colorless, sentiment dead, men without interest. He should return to France and retire to the country. But he could not abandon his post at once, and as the weeks went on recklessness succeeded to gloom. If his wife was faith- less, why should he be faithful? From that time Joseph- ine’s exclusive sway was broken. The man who had for her sake spurned all women rode openly through the streets of Cairo with a pretty little madame whose husband had been sent suddenly to France. The glory of love was gone forever for Bonaparte, and poor Josephine had lost thewrarest jewel ot wer ‘dite. Perhaps the saddest: omitman! was that she had never realized what she possessed, never knew her loss. How much Josephine knew of her husband’s change of feeling towards her is uncertain. There is a letter in ex- istence purporting to be hers, written at this time in answer to accusations which Napoleon had made from Egypt, in which she repels the charges with virtuous indignation and attributes them to her enemies, presumably the Bona- Dabics.—- It is impossible, General (she writes), that the letter I have just re- ceived comes from you? I can scarcely credit it when I compare that letter with others now before me, to which your love imparts so many charms! My eyes, indeed, would persuade me that your hand traced these lines; but my heart refuses to believe that a letter from you could BONAPARTE GOES TO ITALY S59 ever have caused the mortal anguish I experience on perusing these expressions of your displeasure, which afflict me the more when I con- sider how much pain they must have cost you. I know not what I have done to provoke some malignant enemy to destroy my peace by disturbing yours; but certainly a powerful motive must influence some one in continually renewing calumnies against me. and giving them a sufficient appearance of probability to impose on the man who has hitherto judged me worthy of his affection and confidence. These two sentiments are necessary to my happiness, and if they are to be so soon withdrawn from me, I can only regret that I was ever blest in possessing them or knowing you. : Instead of listening to traducers, who, for reasons which I cannot explain, seek to disturb our happiness, why do you not silence them by enumerating the benefits you have bestowed on a woman whose heart could never be reproached with ingratitude? The knowledge of what you have done for my children would check the malignity of these calumniators, for they would then see that the strongest link of my attachment for you depends on my character as a mother. Your sub- sequent conduct, which has claimed the admiration of all Europe, could have no other effect than to make me adore the husband who gave me his hand when I was poor and unfortunate. Every step you take adds to the glory of the name I bear; yet this is the moment that has been selected for persuading you that I no longer love you! Surely nothing can be more wicked and absurd than the conduct of those who are about you, and are jealous of your marked superiority ! Yes, I still love you, and no less tenderly than ever. Those who allege the contrary know that they speak falsely. To those very persons I have frequently written to enquire about you and to recommend them to console you by their friendship for the absence of her who is your best and truest friend. Yet what has been the conduct of the men in whom you repose confidence, and on whose testimony you form so unjust an opinion of me? They conceal from you every circumstance calculated to alleviate the anguish of our separation, and they seek to fill your mind with suspicion in order to drive you from a country with which they are dissatisfied. Their object is to make you unhappy. I see this plainly, though you are blind to their perfidious intentions. Being no longer their equal, you have become their enemy, and every one of your vic- tories is a fresh ground of envy and hatred. I know their intrigues, and I disdain to avenge myself by naming the men whom I despise, but whose valor and talents may be useful to you in the great enterprise which you have so propitiously commenced, When you return, I will unmask these enemies of your glory—but no; 358 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE the happiness of seeing you again will banish from my recollection the misery they are endeavoring to inflict upon me, and I shall think only of what they have done to promote the success of your projects. I acknowledge that I see a great deal of company; for every one is eager to compliment me on your success, and I confess I have not resolution to close my door against those who speak of you. I also confess that a great portion of my visitors are gentlemen. Men under- stand your bold projects better than women, and they speak with en- thusiasm of your glorious achievements, while my female friends only complain of you for having carried away their husbands, brothers or fathers. I take no pleasure in their society if they do not praise you; yet there are some among them whose hearts and understandings claim my highest regard because they entertain sincere friendship for you. In this number I may distinguish Mesdames d’Aiguillon, Tallien, and my aunt. They are almost constantly with me, and they can tell you, un- grateful as you are, whether J have*“been coquetting with everybody. These are your words, and they would be hateful to me, were I not certain that you have disavowed them and are sorry for having written them. I sometimes receive honors here which cause me no small degree of embarrassment. I am not accustomed to this sort of homage, and I see it is displeasing to our authorities, who are always suspicious and fearful of losing their newly-gotten power. Never mind them, you will say; and I should not, but that I know they will try to injure you. and I cannot endure the thonght of contributing in any way to those feelings of enmity which your triumphs sufhciently account for. If they are envious now, what will they be when you return crowned with fresh laurels? Heavens knows to what lengths their malignity will then carry them! But you will be here, and then nothing can vex me. : For my part, my time is occupied in writing to you, hearing your praises, reading the journals, in which your name appears in every page, thinking of you, looking forward to the time when I may see vou hourly, complaining of your absence, and longing for your return; and when my task is ended, I begin it over again. Are all these proofs of indifference? You will never have any others from me, and if I receive no worse from you. I shall have no great reason to complain, in spite of the ill-natured stories I hear about a certain lady in whom you are said to take a lively interest. But why should I doubt you? You assure me that you love me, and, judging of your heart by my own, I believe you. 7 Josephine seems not to have doubted her power to pro- pitiate Napoleon on his return. She did not count, how- ever, on his brothers seeing him before she did; but so it BONAPARTE GOES TO IVALY 359 turned out. Bonaparte, with an eye to effect, landed un- expectedly in France on October 6, 1799. The Bonaparte brothers, as soon as they heard of his arrival, hurried southward without notifying Josephine, whose first knowl- edge of his coming was while she was dining out on October Io. She immediately started to meet him, but took the wrong route. Returning to Paris alone, she found that her husband had reached home twelve hours ahead of her. Hastening to the little house in the rue de la Victoire,— a street that had latterly changed its name in honor of him; and the house in which she had first received him, which he had bought subsequently because of its associations, and which he had declared, after his disillusion in Egypt, that he should always keep,—Josephine found Napoleon locked in his room. Joseph and Lucien had improved their op- portunity, and wrung from him a promise to see his wife no more—to secure a divorce. Throwing herself on her knees before the door, Josephine wept and begged for hours, until the door opened; and then, aided by Hortense and Eugene, she sued for pardon. The power she still had over {bestia was 100) orTedt 10m him to resist lone, The next morning, when the Bonaparte brothers called, they found a reconciled household. How complete the reconciliation was they realized when they saw Napoleon paying the $200,000 and more due at Malmaison and settling the debts to servants,. merchants, jewelers, caterers, florists, liverymen, everybody, in fact, which Josephine had contracted right and left in his absence. Not only did he pay her obligations with little more than a grimace, but he entered heartily into her plans for repairing and beautifying their new home. The two appeared con- stantly together in public, where their evident happiness coming so close upon the rumors of a divorce, caused endless gossip. CHAPTER IV BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL—JOSEPHINE S$ AC Lae PUBLIC LIFE—HER* PERSONAL CHARM——-MALMAISON OSEPHINE realized fully that if her victory over her brothers-in-law was complete, it could endure only during her own good behavior—that, if she ever again gave them reason for complaining of her conduct, she probably would have to suffer the full penalty of her wrong- doing. She must have realized, too, that the supreme power she had once exercised over Napoleon was at an end, that he could get along very well without her. The absorbing passion of the Italian campaign had become the comfortable, unexacting affection which would have been so welcome to her in 1796. ‘The change, if more peaceable, brought its dangers, she well knew. It meant that if she kept him now, she not only must be irreproachable in her life, but she must foster his affection by her devotion, amuse him, stand by him in his ambition; she must be the suitor now. There was no question in her mind that he was worth it. If there ever had been, the wonderful enthusiasm of the people on his return from Egypt would have dissipated the doubt. Her course was evident, and she adopted it immediately, and applied herself to it with more seriousness than she ever had given to anything before in her life. Indeed, the only seri- ous purpose consistently followed which 1s to be found in Josephine’s life is the resolve taken after the Egyptian cam- paign, unconsciously, no doubt, to keep what remained to her of Napoleon’s affection, to make herself necessary to him. 360 BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL 361 An opportunity to show him how useful she might be in his career came very soon. The coup d'état of the 18th and 19th Brumaire (9th and 1oth November, 1799) re- sulted in Napoleon’s being made First Consul in the new government which took the place of the Directory. The Bonapartes went at once to the Luxembourg Palace to live, and remained there until February, when the Tuileries was made the Government House. As the First Lady of the Land, Josephine was in a position where she could be an infinite harm or help to her husband. Any flippancy, self- will, or malice in managing the crowds of people she saw from day to day would have been fatal both to her and to Napoleon. The tact she showed from the first in playing the hostess of France was exquisite. That a woman who for thirty-seven years had been the plaything of fate, who had shown no moral principle or high purpose in meeting the crises of her life, whose chief aim had always been pleas- ure, and whose only weapons had been her sweet temper and her tears, should preside over the official society of a newly-formed government and not only make no mistakes, but every day knit the discordant elements of that society more close, is one of the marvels of feminine intuition and adaptability. No doubt but that with Josephine her perfect goodness of heart was at the bottom of her tact. She had no malice, she much preferred to see even her enemies happy rather than miserable, and though she might weep and complain of their unkindness, if she had an opportunity she would do them a favor. Her goodness impressed everybody. The most disgruntled, after passing a few moments with the wife of the First Consul, went away mollified, 1f not satisfied ; and a second visit usually satisfied them. She flattered the rough soldiers, when Napoleon, always eager to show atten- tion to the army, presented them to her, by her knowledge 362 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE of their deeds. She softened the suspicions of the radical Republicans by her affectation of sans-culottism and her familiarity with the members of the Girondin and Terrorist governments. She aroused hope among the aristocrats that she would secure them favors from the government—was she not one of themselves? Was not her first husband a viscount and a victim of the guillotine. She really wanted everybody to be pleased, and by her mere amuiability she came as near as a human being can to pleasing everybody. She was wise, too, in her dealings with people. She never pretended to know anything about politics—that was Napoleon’s business; but if she could do them a favor, she would; and straightway she wrote a note or took her car- riage to intercede, personally, for them. If she was re- fused, she explained with much pains just why it was; if she succeeded, she was as pleased as a child. Hundreds of her little notes soliciting favors, are to be seen in the collec- tions in Europe. Napoleon allowed her a free hand in this matter, for he appreciated how purely it was good-will, not any desire to mix in politics, which animated her. He real- ized, too, how valuable to the First Consul it was to have some one who always made a friend, whether she secured a favor or not. | No doubt much of Josephine’s influence was due to her personal charm. She was never strictly a beautiful woman, but her grace was so exquisite, her toilet so perfect, her ex- pression so winning, that defects were forgotten in the de- light of her personality. Madame de Remusat, in describ- ing Josephine, says that without being beautiful, she pos- sessed a peculiar charm. Her features were fine and har- monious; her expression was pleasant; her mouth, which was small, concealed skilfully her poor teeth; her complex- ion, which was rather dark, was helped out by rouge and powder; her form was perfect, her limbs being supple and BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL 363 delicate, and every movement of her body was easy. “I never knew anyone,’ Mme. de Remusat writes, “to whom one could apply more appropriately La Fontaine’s verse, ‘Et la grace, plus belle encore que la beauté. ”’ One of Josephine’s greatest charms was her voice: it was soft, well modulated, and very musical; it always put Na- poleon under a peculiar spell. She was an excellent reader, and seemed never to tire of reading aloud. In the in- timacy of their apartments she spent much time reading aloud to Napoleon, and often, when he was sleepless after a hard day, she would sit by his bed with a book until he fell asleep. Many of those who heard her read have said that the charm of her voice was such that one forgot entirely what she was saying and listened simply to the music of the sound. Constant says, in describing Josephine: “She was of medium height and of a rarely perfect form; her move- ments were supple and light, making her walk something fairylike, without preventing a certain majesty becoming to a sovereign; her face changed with every thought of her soul, and never lost its charming sweetness; in pleasure as in sorrow she was always beautiful to look upon. There never was a woman who demonstrated better than she that ‘the eyes are the mirror of the soul;’ hers were of a deep blue, and almost always half closed by her long lids, which were slightly arched and bordered with the most beautiful lashes in the world. Her hair was very beautiful, long and soft; she liked to dress it in the morning with a red Madras handkerchief, which gave her a Creole air, most piquant to sec. Josephine showed her wisdom, from the beginning of the Consulate, in yielding to Napoleon’s wishes about whom she should receive. The First Consul’s notions of official so- ciety were severe and well-matured. Nobody should be ad- JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON., By Prud’hon. This charming portrait, which is one of Prud’hon’s most successful works, and also one of the most graceful and faithful likenesses of Josephine, was doubtless executed at the same time as Isabey’s picture of Napoleon wandering, a solitary dreamer, in the long alleys at Malmaison (1798). (See page 88.) Prud’hon shows us Josephine in the garden of the chateau she loved so well, and in which she spent the happiest moments of her life, before seeking it as a final refuge in her grief and despair. The empress presents a full-length portrait, turned to the left; she is seated on a stone bench amid the groves of the park, in an attitude of reverie, and wears a white décolletté robe embroidered in gold. A crimson shawl is draped round her.—A. D. 364 BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL — 365 mitted that did not support his government. At least, if they criticised, they must do so quietly. The army must be honored there before all. The Republicans must be made to feel, of course, that this was their society. The aristocrats must be encouraged just as far as it could be done without giving the people alarm. A fusion of all elements was really what he aimed at, but nobody dared mention that fact. Josephine’s intuition seems to have guided her almost un- erringly through the difficult task of giving just the right amount of encouragement and attention to each. Above all, in this new society there must be no irregu- larities, no scandals. The government must be respectable. There should be no speculators, no contractors, no fakirs, no persons of immorality of any sort; only honest people, and they must behave. Order, decency, and dignity were to prevail in the Consulate. No more impromptu suppers for Josephine, no more dinners with Barras and Mme. Tal- lien and their like, no more moonlight walks in the garden at Malmaison. La wie Boheme was ended, and she was wise enough to accept the situation and make the most of It. For nearly two years the entertainments over which Jose- phine presided as wife of the First Consul were very sim- ple. There were balls and parades and fetes, but they were conducted like such functions in a great private house, where there is only the necessary etiquette to insure order and com- fort. It was a republican court which was held at the Tuil- eries and at Malmaison—for the country home of the Bona- partes had come to be almost an official residence, so much of their time was spent there and so many were the visitors who came there. The place was a great delight to Josephine. She was having the chateau rebuilt and the gardens laid out over again, and she was indulging her caprices fully in doing it. She must have a new dining-room, large enough to seat a great diplomatic dinner party, if necessary. There 366 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE must be a new billiard room, a new library, new private apartments, more room for guests and servants, more stable room. But to build over an old house in this elaborate way was no easy task, particularly when the proprietor enlarged and changed his plans each month. ‘The architects warned Bonaparte that it would be cheaper to pull down the old chateau than to rebuild, but the work was under way, and it/mustevo on. Alvear and va shaligaiteneticos:epaime began, and before anything was completed, the bills were sent in—$120,000 had already been spent. ‘“‘ For what?” demanded the enraged First Consul. Protest as he would the work had to continue. For years Malmaison was a constant expense—for Josephine, never satisfied, was always enlarging and changing. In the end, the chateau was nearly double its original size, but its exterior never had any real distinction. The interior, however, was most interesting from the great number of rare and beautiful art objects which it contained and which, for the most part, Josephine had either received as gifts or had brought from Italy. There was a wonderful mantel of white marble, ornamented with mosaic, given to her by the Pope, and there were vases of Berlin from the King of Prussia. There were rare speci- mens of the ancient and modern works of all the Italian painters, sculptors, potters, metal workers, and there were pictures by all the great French artists of the day, among them many portraits of Napoleon—in Egypt, in Italy, cross- ing the Alps. Josephine took even more interest in the park and gardens at Malmaison than in the chateau. She was passionately fond of flowers, and immediately undertook to cultivate at Malmaison a garden of rare plants, similar to that which Marie Antoinette had started at the Petit Trianon. This soon became, at the suggestion of the professional botanists she called in to assist her in collecting her plants, a veritable BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL 367 Botanical Garden. She gathered from the world over, and her fancy becoming known, ambassadors, merchants, and travellers, foreign and French, exerted themselves to please her. In the end, thanks to the skillful gardeners she se- cured, her plants became of large public value and interest. Masson says that between 1804 and 1814, 184 new species of plants found their way into the country through Jo- sephine’s garden. The eucalyptus, hybiscus, catalpa, and camelia were first cultivated by her, not to speak of many varieties of heather, myrtle, geranium, cactus, and rhodo- dendron. When she first owned Malmaison, the land was in park or iieviniess anide there; were some One avenues of dine trees: There was none of the complicated English gardening which was then in fashion. Josephine would have nothing else. So the fine allees and lawns were destroyed, and groups of shrubs, long rows of hedges, a brook, lakes, winding paths, a Swiss village, a temple of love, grottoes, a cascade, an endless variety of artificial and sentimental devices, took their place. To decorate this park of Malmaison to Jo- sephine’s liking, the government turned over to her dozens of bronze and marble busts, vases, columns, and statues, some of them of great value. One curious and amusing feature of the park was the ant- mals it contained. Josephine was as fond of pets as of flow- ers. She always had one or more dogs from which she was never separated—not even Napoleon could make her give them up, much as he detested them. At Malmaison, she gave free rein to her liking. Birds were her chief delight, and she bought scores. In three years her bill for birds from one dealer was over $4,500. The lakes were filled with swans, black and white, and ducks from America and China; in the parks were kangaroos, deer, gazelles, a chamois; there were monkeys everywhere; and there were no end of trained 368 MALMAISON, BONAPARTE IS MADE FIRST CONSUL — 369 pets of all kinds—usually gifts. None of these animals were of any practical use; to be sure there was a flock of valuable sheep, but these were kept merely as a decoration to a certain field, the shepherds who guarded them having been brought in their native costumes from Switzerland. Josephine’s interest in her garden and flowers and animals was beyond that of the mere prodigal who buys for the sake of buying and loses his interest in possessing. One of the delights of her life at Malmaison was visiting daily her ant- mals, in each of which she took the liveliest interest. Her flowers she watched carefully, and she took great delight in distributing them. Many gardens in France to-day contain plants and trees which are said to be grown from cuttings sent to some dead-and-gone ancestor by Josephine. During the first two years of the Consulate, in spite of all the changes going on, Malmaison was the source of much brilliant life. Here when the news of Marengo reached Paris, Josephine had tents spread, and gave a great fete in honor of the victory; here gathered all the artists and writ- ers and musicians of the day; here eminent travellers came. There was great simplicity in all entertaining, and when only the private circle of the Consul was present, there was much went on which looked lke romping, Bonaparte and Jo- sephine leading in the games. The favorite amusement was private theatricals. Bona- parte was very fond of the drama, had studied it carefully for many years, and he gave much attention to the perform- ances at Malmaison. The little company there was very good, Hortense de Beauharnais and Bourrienne, Bonaparte’s secretary, being actors of more than ordinary ability. Some- thing of the care that was given to the preparation of an en- tertainment is indicated by the fact that Talma himself used to come to the rehearsals to criticise. Theatricals took such a place in the life at Malmaison that finally a little theatre 370 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE was built. It would seat perhaps 200 persons, and was con- nected with the salons of the chateau by a long gallery. At the Tuileries, the Bonapartes were in a Government House; at Malmaison they were at home, and they never anywhere were so gay, so busy, and so happy together. Cer- tainly in these two years Josephine succeeded admirably in her purpose of repairing the mischief she had done by her past indiscretions. It was not alone her tact in society and its value to him which had won Napoleon. It was that she had been to him an incessant delight and comfort. She yielded to his will unquestioningly and willingly, and this pliability was the more welcome because his own family were in incessant opposition to his wishes. She was always on hand, ready to walk, to drive, to go with him where he would. She was tireless in her efforts to please the people he wanted pleased, to carry off successfully the burdensome functions of official life, to provide the entertainment he liked. She studied his tastes and foresaw his wants. She tried to please him in the least detail. Napoleon loved to see her in white, hence she wore no other kind of gown so often. He liked to hear her read, and no matter how tired she was she would sit at his bedside by the hour, if he wished, and read uncomplainingly. Little wonder that as the weeks went Josephine grew dearer and dearer to Napoleon or that she, seeing her hold, watched carefully that nothing loosen it. (EAP ea: Vi DHE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION-——-MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE— JOSEPHINE “EMPRESS OF Utility FRENCH. PEOPLE——THE CORONATION HE first real threat to Josephine’s position came in a political question. In order to give an appear- ance of stability to the new government, it was pro- posed to give the First Consul the right to appoint a suc- cessor. But if Napoleon had this right, would he not wish for a son upon whom to confer it, would he not desire to establish a hereditary officer Josephine had given him no children. He was only thirty-one; might he not, in spite of all his affection, divorce her for the sake of this succession, which, he declared, was essential to the future of the Con- sulate. Josephine turned all her power of cajoling upon Napoleon, © “Do not) make yourself, kine,” , she begred: and when he laughed at her, and told her that securing to himself the right to appoint a successor in the Consulate was nothing of that sort—only a device to prevent the over- throw of the government in case of his absence at the head of the army, or in case of his sudden death, she was not convinced. She began, indeed, to talk of the advisability of bringing back the Bourbons, and called herself a royalist. Napoleon’s decision was taken, however. He must ap- point a successor, and it should be one of his own family. But which one? Joseph had no head, for affairs. With Lucien he had quarreled. But there was Louis, who had none of his brothers’ faults and all of their good qualities. Louis it should be. The knowledge that Napoleon undoubt- 37 372 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE edly favored Louis as his successor determined Josephine to arrange a marriage between him and her daughter Hor- tense. At this time, 1800, Hortense was seventeen years old, though the exceptional experiences of her childhood had given her a thoughtfulness quite superior to her years. She had been but ten when her mother, lest a suspicion of her patriotism might be roused because she brought up her children in idleness, had apprenticed her to a dressmaker. She was but eleven years old when her parents were im- prisoned, and when in the costumes of laborers’ children she and Eugene had made frequent, visits to les Carmes and had gone together more than once to beg of persons in author- ity for the lives of their father and mother. After the Revo- lution, Hortense had been placed in Mme. Campan’s school at St. Germain—a school established to give the young girls of the better class whose parents had been scattered or guillo- tined in the Revolution, an opportunity to learn the ways and the graces of that society which for so long the patriots had been trying to uproot. At Mme. Campan’s, Hortense had distinguished herself by her gentlenesss and her good- ness, by the quickness with which she learned everything taught, and by her enthusiasm and ideals. She had left the school a thoroughly charming and accomplished girl, to join her mother, now the wife of the First Consul. She had all of Josephine’s charms of person, her grace and supple- ness, her beautiful form, her interesting and mobile face; but she was more vivacious than Josephine and more in- telligent. As for her accomplishments, they were many. She played the piano and the harp, and sang well. Her drawing and embroidery were not bad, as many specimens still preserved show. She danced with exquisite grace; she, even at this time, had literary aspirations, and she was THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION 373 the star of the company which put on so many pieces at the little theatre at Malmaison. Hortense was a favorite of Napoleon. He had loved her first because she was Josephine’s daughter. After she left school and was constantly of the household, he grew more and more attached to her, more and more anxious for her happiness. Hortense, though she never ceased to fear Na- poleon, loved him with the enthusiasm of a young girl for a conquering hero. She seems never to have questioned his will—never to have doubted his affection for her. Hortense’s marriage was, of course, an important ques- tion with the Bonapartes, and various suitors had been con- sidered. The girl herself was not ambitious. Neither wealth nor station obscured her judgment. She wanted to Metin mtOmmioves she deCliredue At Oneetiine she. liad’ a strong feeling for Duroc, and Napoleon favored the mar- riage strongly. Duroc was of good family and a brave soldier, and Hortense loved him; what better? Josephine opposed it. She had set her heart on Louis Bonaparte, in spite of the fact that Hortense felt something like an an- tipathy to the young man. Louis himself did not take to the marriage at first. He had imbibed from his mother and brothers the idea that the Beauharnais were the natural enemies of the Bonapartes, and a marriage with Hortense they all declared, would be disloyal. However, in Septem- ber, 1801, when Louis returned to Paris after several months absence and saw Hortense at a ball, he was so impressed by her charm that he yielded at once to Josephine’s wishes, and asked for her hand. Napoleon consented with a little re- gret ; Hortense obeyed as a matter of duty, urged to it as she was both by her mother and Mme. Campan. The marriage took place early in January, 1802. It was a victory for Josephine over the Bonapartes, so her friends said, and so 374 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE the Bonapartes felt bitterly. But, alas, it was a victory for which Hortense paid the price. Before the end ot the year, it was evident that Mme. Louis Bonaparte was very unhappy; her husband was jealous and exacting, and con- stantly tried to turn her against her mother in the family feud. Not even the birth of a son, in October, silenced his grievances for long, though to Napoleon and to Jo- sephine the coming of the little Napoleon-Charles, as he was named, was an inexpressible joy. To Josephine the child was a new support to her position, a new reason why a succession could be established without divorcing her and re-marrying. It was a succession through her, too, since this was her daughter’s child. Napoleon himself soon became more devoted to the child than its father ever was. In a way, his own ardent desire for fatherhood was satisfied by the presence of the baby, which he kept by him as much as he could, riding it on his back, trotting it on his foot, rolling with it on the floor, lying beside it at night until it slept—a touching proof of this extraordinary man’s passion to possess a love which was faithful and disinterested. As time went on and the ques- tion of the succession came into the senate, the struggle be- tween the brothers as to how the heredity should be regu- lated reached its clmax. Napoleon determined to adopt Hortense’s child and make him his heir. Joseph, Lucien, and Louis himself refused to resign what they called their rights, and each had important supporters in his position. Lucien, in the struggle, broke entirely with Napoleon. But 1f the succession was to be settled to Josephine’s sat- isfaction, there were other matters which worried her at the beginning of the life Consulate. Chief among these was that Napoleon insisted upon leaving Malmaison for St. Cloud. Josephine’s interest in the former place was so great, her life there had been so happy, that she was THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION 375 violently opposed to any change. St. Cloud was too large; it smacked too much of royalty, the idea of which was awaking such vague alarms in her mind; its associations were too sad. But her opposition availed nothing what- ever. Bonaparte felt that a larger residence was necessary. Malmaison was a private home, St. Cloud belonged to the State, and he, as the head of the State, wished to occupy its palaces. They had no sooner taken St. Cloud than their whole mode of life changed; the simple, informal ways of Malmaison were laid aside, and a rigid etiquette adopted. There is a governor of the palace, there are prefects of the palace, there are ladies of the palace. Josephine and Napo- leon no longer receive everybody of the household at their table, but eat alone, inviting, two or three times a week, those persons whom they may care particularly to dis- tinguish. The ladies and gentlemen belonging to the palace havemabless ot thei ownequite;apart.. Theresisya military household annexed to St. Cloud, with four generals and a large guard, an elaborate suite which accompanies the First Consul when he goes forth. Every Sunday, a great crowd of dignitaries-—senators, cardinals, bishops, ambassadors, everybody of note in Paris—flock to the First Consul’s re- ceptions. After paying their respects to him, they pass into the apartment of Madame Bonaparte. It is the former apartment of Marie Antoinette, and that Queen herself did not receive in more state than the wife of the First Consul. It is the same at the services in the chapel, which are held every Sunday, and which Bonaparte insists everybody shall attend. At the theatre of the palace, where the little plays which they so much enjoyed at Malmaison are still repeated, there is the same increase of etiquette. Josephine and Bona- parte no longer are seated with their friends, but occupy a loge apart; and when they enter, the whole assembly rises and salutes. People are there by invitation, too, and no 376 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE one pretends to applaud unless the signal is given by the First Consul. Day by day. Josephine bemoaned this new departure; and as hostile criticisms and sneers reached her, she set her face against the changes. Her protests were useless: “Josephine, you are tiresome—you know nothing about these things,’ Napoleon finally told her, and Fouche, her friend, finally silenced her by his cynical advice. ‘ Be quiet, Madame; you annoy your husband uselessly. He will be Consul for life, King or Emperor, all that he can be. Your fears disturb him; your advice would wound him. Keep your proper place, and let the events which neither you nor I know how to prevent work out.” She did accept, and took her part. If it-was true that Na- poleon was going to make himself Emperor, she must, be- fore all, so conduct herself that he would prefer her on the throne at his side to all the world. As the weeks went on and it became evident that an Empire would soon be pro- claimed, Josephine had increasing need of discretion. The Bonaparte family had set themselves again to prevent the succession going to a Beauharnais. Josephine should be di- vorced, they said; Eugene, to whom Napoleon was greatly attached, should be sent off with his mother. As for his adopting little Napoleon-Charles, the child of Hortense, neither Joseph nor Louis, the father, would hear to it. ‘“ Why should I give up to my son a part of your succes- sion?’’ said Louis to his brother. ‘‘ What have I done that I should be disinherited? What will be my place when this child has become yours and finds himself in a position far superior to mine, independent of me, outranking me, look- ing upon me with suspicion and perhaps with contempt? No, I will never consent to it, and rather than consent to bow my head before my son I will leave France; I will take THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION ee Napoleon away with me, and we will see if you will dare to steal a child from his father.” Napoleon’s sisters, particularly Caroline, Mme. Murat, were no less determined than the brothers to secure all the advantages possible from his glory. In their eager- ness, they showed such envy and bitterness that Napoleon was deeply disgusted, and gave them no satisfaction as to his intentions. He even took some pains to tease them. One day when the family were together and he was playing with little Napoleon, he said, “ Do you know, little one, that you are in danger of being King one of these days? ”’ “And Achille?’ Murat exclaimed, referring to his own son. “Oh, Achille will make a good soldier,’ answered Na- poleon laughing, and when he saw the black looks of both Caroline and Murat, he added: “ At all events, my poor little one, I advise you, if you want to live, to accept no meals that your cousins offer you.” In spite of all the plotting and protesting of the Bona- partes, Josephine was proclaimed Empress, and the law of succession was passed as it pleased Napoleon :—‘‘ The French people desire the inheritance of the Imperial dignity in the direct natural or adoptive line of descent from Na- poleon Bonaparte and in the direct natural, legitimate line of descent from Joseph Bonaparte and from Louis Bona- parte.” Napoleon was free to adopt either Eugéne or Na- poleon-Charles and make him his heir. The law mentioned neither Joseph nor Louis as heir. Josephine’s victory in this instance was as much due to the fact that she had made no protests about the succession and had asked nothing, as to anything else. Her seeming confidence (as a matter of fact, she feared the worst for herself) and her generous pleasure in the satisfaction those about took in their new 378 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE honors oftered such a contrast to the jealousy and fault- finding of the Bonapartes that Napoleon felt more and more, as he had often said to her in family quarrels: “ You are my only comfort, Josephine.” Not only rete but Hortense and Eugene showed themselves in all this period wise and generous. The two latter apparently felt sin- cerely that Napoleon did more for them than they had aright to expect. The gratitude and disinterestedness they showed was indeed one of the few real satisfactions of Na- poleon’s life, for he seems to have believed always that they were genuine, something he never felt about the expressions of his own family. 3 Not only was the law of succession fixed to Josephine’s satisfaction; but to her unspeakable joy, Napoleon finally told her that she was to be crowned at the same time as he. In the new government she had no political rights, but in this supreme ceremony she should share. Here again it may have been as much family opposition as love for Josephine and desire to associate her with himself in this greatest of royal spectacles that finally led Napoleon to this decision. Just as before the proclamation of the Empire the Bona- partes quarreled about the succession, now they tormented the Emperor about their positions and their privileges. ““ One would think,” he said testily one day to Caroline, when she was upbraiding him for not according to his sisters the honors due them, “‘ that I had robbed you of the inheritance of the late King, our father.” Joseph did not hesitate to say sarcastic things, even in official gatherings, about the impropriety of crowning a woman who had given her hus- band no successor. Napoleon stood it for some time, and finally in a violent outburst of passion silenced him, at least for the time. The announcement that Josephine was to be crowned, and that her sisters-in-law were to carry the train THE OUES TION OE SUCCESSION 379 of her robe, caused still further heart-burnings, but the fiat had gone forth and everybody finally submitted. However, the new court was too busy in the summer and fall of 1804 to give overmuch time to quarreling. The mere matter of familiarizing themselves with the new code of etiquette sufficiently well not to incur the ridicule of those who had been brought up to court usages, was serious enough to absorb most of their time and energies. They succeeded fairly well, though the aristocrats of the Faubourg St. Germain told endless tales of the blunders they made, stories which were circulated industriously in the courts of Europe. Their failure was not for lack of effort, however. Josephine and her ladies took up the code with energy—it was a new amusement, and for weeks they studied their parts and went through their rehearsals as if they were preparing a play for the stage. Before the time of the coronation they had become fairly at home with court usages and were ready to take up the rehearsals for that ceremony with fresh en- ergy. Indeed, for a month at least, all Paris was absorbed in preparations for the coronation. Fontainebleau was to be put in order to receive the Pope. Notre Dame, where the ceremony was to take place, was to be superbly decorated. Magnificent carriages and trappings for horses and livery were to be provided. Robes and uniforms were to be made ready for the actors. All of the decorators, jewelers, cos- tume-makers, merchants of all sorts in the city were busy night and day. As for the court itself, there one heard noth- ing talked but the coming spectacle. Under the direction of the Grand Master, the ceremonies had been planned down to the most trivial detail, and everybody was busy learning and practicing his part. By the time the Pope arrived at Fontainebleau, on Novem- THE EMPRESS JOSEPHIN From a pencil sketch made by David in the Cathedral of Notre Dame at the time of Josephine’s coronation, and presented to his son. The original is now in the Museum of Versailles. 380 THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION 381 ber 25, everything was practically ready. The court had gone to Fontainebleau to meet His Holiness, and in the few days it remained there before going to Paris, Josephine achieved a victory which completed her happiness for the time. No religious marriage between her and Napoleon had ever been celebrated, and although it had been a part of Napoleon’s policy since he came into power to restore the church, and although he had insisted on an observation of all its ceremonies, he had always refused Josephine’s request for a religious marriage. Now, however, she obtained a powerful advocate—the Pope—to whom, at confession, she told her trouble. He declared he could not officiate at the coronation unless a religious marriage was performed. The night before the coronation, Napoleon gave his consent, and the service was held at the Tuileries in profound secresy, only two witnesses being present. December 2nd had been set for the coronation. The Tuileries, from which the royal party was to go to Notre Dame, was astir very early, for the Pope was to leave the palace at nine; the Emperor and Empress an hour later. The morning was given to dressing—a long task in Jo- sephine’s case, but one which justified the labor and thought which had been given to her costume. Never had she looked more beautiful than when she joined the Emperor and her ladies. Napoleon was delighted at her appearance, and Mme. de Remusat declared that she did not look over twenty-five. ; Josephine’s coronation gown was of white satin, elab- orately embroidered in silver and gold; it hung from the shoulders, and was confined by a girdle set with gems. A train of white velvet embroidered in gold and silver was fas- tened to this gown. The neck was low and square, and the sleeves were long. A ruff, stiff with gold, was set into the top of the sleeves, and rose high behind her head. The nar- 382 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE row corsage and the top of the sleeves were decorated with diamonds. She wore a magnificent necklace of sculptured stones surrounded with diamonds, and on her head was a diadem of pearls and diamonds. Her shoes were of white velvet, embroidered in gold; on her hands she wore white gloves, embroidered in gold. The cost of the pieces of this costume are interesting—the gown 1s estimated to have cost $2,000; the velvet train, $1,400; the shoes, $120. The pontifical procession had been gone from the Palace over an hour when Napoleon and Josephine, accompanied by Joseph and Louis Bonaparte, descended, and entered the gor- geous state carriage drawn by eight horses in rich harness. As the sides of the vehicle were entirely of glass, the spec- tators could look easily upon the magnificence of the party inside. From the Tuileries, the party proceeded slowly to the Archbishop’s palace, along streets crowded with people and decorated with every device which skill and money could provide. During the entire procession, salvos of artillery at intervals greeted them Emperes. “At the palace oisihe Archbishop, the party entered, and here Napoleon put on his coronation robe and Josephine finished her costume by changing her diadem for one of amethysts and by fastening to her left shoulder a royal mantle of red velvet, embroidered in golden bees and in the imperial N surrounded by garlands, and bordered and lined with ermine. This mantle fell from the shoulders, and trailed for fully two yards on the floor. These changes of toilet made, the cortége started—pages, culrassiers and heralds, the Grand Master of Ceremonies and his aides,—a marshal hearing a cushion on which was placed the ring for the Empress, another marshal carrying the crown on a cushion. Following the Empress and her at- tendants, came the cortege of the Emperor; first the mar- shals bearing the crown, sceptre, and sword of Charlemagne, and the ring and globe belonging to Napoleon; then the THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION 383 Emperor, crowned with a wreath of gold laurel leaves, the sceptre in one hand, and in the other a baton—emblem of justice, his heavy royal mantle carried by several princes, a geuard of richly dressed ornamental personages following. On entering the cathedral, both the Emperor and the Em- press were presented with holy water, and then began their slow journey up the aisle of the cathedral to the high altar, where the service took place. The sceptre, crown, sword, ring and globe of the Emperor were placed upon the altar, and beside them were placed the crown, ring, and mantle of the Empress. The Pope then anointed the Emperor’s head and hands with oil, and the same service was used 1mmedi- ately after in anointing Josephine. The mass followed, during which the Pope blessed the imperial ornaments of both Napoleon and Josephine. At the close of this service, the Emperor mounted the steps to the altar, on which the imperial crown was placed, lifted it, and put it himself on his head; then taking the crown of the Empress in his hands, he descended the steps to the place where Josephine was kneeling. With a gesture at once so gentle and so proud that it impressed the whole splendid au- dience, he put the crown upon her head, while the Pope pro- nounced the orison: ‘“* May God crown you with the crown of glory and justice; may He give you strength and courage that, through this benediction, and by your own faith and the multiplied fruits of your good works, you may attain the crown of the eternal kingdom, through the grace of Him whose reign and empire extends from age to age.” As the last words of the prayer died away the cortége turned from the high altar and proceeded slowly down the nave to the point where the throne had been placed. At the top of a staircase of some twenty-nine steps was a large platform, on which a sumptuous arm-chair, richly decorated with embroideries and golden symbols, had been placed for 384 THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON I. BESTOWING THE CROWN ON THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE, DECEMBER 2, 1804. THE QUESTION OF SUCCESSION 385 Napoleon. To the right of this seat, and one step lower, was a smaller chair, with similar decorations, for Josephine. The Emperor and Empress mounted the steps and seated themselves. They were followed hy the Pope, who blessed them, and then, kissing the Emperor on the cheek, turned to the assembly, and pronounced the words, “ Vivat tmperator in eternum.’ The Te Deum, the prayers, the reading of the Scriptures, the offering, followed; and then, the mass finished, the oath taken, Napoleon and Josephine descended and attended by their suites, left the cathedral, and entered their carriage. The ceremony, from the time of leaving the Tuileries, had taken five hours. It was three and a half hours more before the long procession was ended and they were back again in the palace. That night Napoleon and Josephine dined alone, the Em- press wearing her crown, at her husband’s request, so pleased was he with the grace and dignity with which she carried it. (EN er Ramet ETIQUETTE REGULATING JOSEPHINE’S LIBE-—ROYAL® J.OUR= NEYS—TACT OF THE EMPRESS—~—-EXTRAVAGAN CE, LN DRESS: ONSECRATED by the Pope, crowned by Napoleon, (oe Josephine’s position seemed impregnable in the eyes of all the world. It was one of dazzling splendor. The little creole whose youth had been spent in a sugar- house, who had passed months in a prison cell, who many a time had borrowed money to pay her rent, now had become the mistress, not of a palace, but of palaces—of Fontaine- bleau, the Tuileries, Versailles, Rambouillet. She who for so many years had begged favors at the doors of others, was now the center of a great machine, called a “ House- hold,” devoted to serving her. There were a First Almoner, a Maid of Honor, a Lady of the Bedchamber, numbers of Ladies of the Palaceva First Chamberlain, a Pirsh Equenyed Private Secretary, a Chief Steward—all of them having their respective attendants; and there were, besides these, valets, footmen, pages, and servants of all grades. Her life, so long one of unthinking freedom, was now regulated to the last detail. The apartments in the palace devoted to her own uses were two—the apartment of honor and the private apartment. Before the door of the ante-chamber of the apartment of honor stood, day and night, a door-keeper ; within were four valets, two /uissiers, two pages (to do errands), from twelve to twenty-six footmen, ready to do honor to the incoming and outgoing guests. In the salons, where visitors waited, were other decorative footmen and pages—a retinue ten times larger than actual service re- 386 ETIQUETTE 387 quired, but none too large to the eye accustomed to court etiquette. It was through this hedge of attendants that the supplicant, flatterer or friend who would see Josephine now must work his way—a slow way, often only to be made by fair address, strong relations, and judicious gifts. Jo- sephine by nature the most accessible of mortals, was now obliged to turn away old friends because they did not please His Majesty, the Emperor. That he was oftentimes quite right, the following frank little letter of hers shows :— ‘““T am sorry, my dear friend, that my wishes cannot be fulfilled, as you and my other old friends imagine they can. You seem to think that if I do not see you it is because I have forgotten you. Alas! no, on the contrary, my memory IsmeMOLemitctaciOols witha eavich. urlheminores | | thinkwot what I am, the more I am mortified at not being able to obey the dictates of my heart. The Empress of France is the veriest slave in the Empire, and she cannot acquit the debt which Madame de Beauharnais owes. This makes me miserable, and it will explain why you are not near me; why I do not see Madame Tallien; why, in short, many of my former friends would be forgotten by me, but that my memory 1s faithful. “The Emperor, displeased at the prevailing laxity of morals, and anxious to check its progress, wishes that his palace should present an example of virtuous and religious conduct. Anxious to consolidate the religion which he has restored, and having no power to alter laws to which he has given his assent, he has determined to exclude from Court all persons who have taken advantage of the law of divorce. He has given this promise to the Pope, and he cannot break it. This reason alone has obliged him to refuse the favor I solicited of having you about me. His refusal afflicts me, but it is too positive to admit of any hope of its being re- tracted.” 388 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE The apartment of honor was devoted to receiving, and Josephine’s movements there were prescribed in detail. The costume she should wear, the chair in which she should sit, the rank of the person who should be allowed in the room when she received, who should announce, who carry a note, who bring a glass of water, all of this was ordered and per- formed precisely. In her private apartment there was greater appearance of freedom, though it was arranged by the code at what hour she should take her morning cup of tea and by whose hand it should be presented, who should admit her pet dog, what should be her costume for the morn- ing, and who should arrange it. - When the Empress left the palace, the forms were multt- plied. Attended by her ladies of waiting, she passed over a carpet spread for her passage, through the file of liveried servants which decorated all the apartments. Before her marched the younger of the two pretty pages always waiting in the outer salon, while the elder bore the train of her robe. At the door, the magnificent portier d@appartement struck the floor with his halberd as she passed. One of the dozen carriages in her stables drawn usually by eight horses awaited her. Before, beside, and behind as she drove were servants in gorgeous livery, mounted or afoot; a brilliant spectacle for the passer-by, but a wearisome one for poor Josephine. It was no better when she travelled, as she did a great deal, especially in the first two years after the coronation. Thus in the spring of 1805, she accompanied Napoleon to Milan, where he was to be crowned King of Italy. The journey was a long series of brilliant functions—at Lyons, a triumphal arch, a reception by the Empress, an entertain- ment at the theater; at Turin, flattering ceremonies; on the field of Marengo, mimic manceuvres of the battle, led by Murat, Lannes, and Bessieres, and watched by Napoleon ETIQUETTE 389 and Josephine from a throne, and after the manceuvres, the laying of a corner-stone to those who lost their lives on the field; at Milan, on May 26, the coronation of Napoleon, which Josephine watched from the gallery of the cathedral, followed by splendid public fétes lasting for days; a mimic representation on the battlefield of Castiglione; visits to Bologna, Modena, Parma, Geneva, Turin, all attended by the most extravagant festivities. This journey lasted from April 4th to July 18th, the date of their return to St. Cloud, and through it all Josephine was scarcely free for an hour from the fatiguing duties of a great sovereign. Napoleon returned to Paris from Italy to prepare for war with Austria, and in September he set out on the campaign. Josephine went with him as far as Strasburg, where she trans- ferred her household to the Imperial Palace which had been established there for Napoleon’s use. I*or two months she remained at Strasburg, while Napoleon dazzled Europe by the campaign which, on Dec. 2nd, culminated at Austerlitz. Alone she conducted her court as she would have done in Paris, as magnificently and as brilliantly. In November, she left Strasburg to go to Munich—a triumphal march, really, for everywhere she received royal honors. Her approach to every city through which she was to pass en route was an- nounced by the ringing of bells and salvos of artillery; great processions of dignitaries went out to meet her; arches of triumph were erected for her; beautiful gifts were presented ; there were illuminations, balls, and state performances of all sorts. She reached Munich on December 5th, and here remained until after January 14th, on which day another great ceremony, her son’s marriage with Princess Augusta of Baden, was celebrated. From the manner of its arrangement one might have ex- pected nothing but misery from this alliance. The young princess was violently opposed to it, and only consented at 390 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE ‘ her father’s entreaty—‘‘a sacrifice to father, family and country,’ she said. Eugene knew nothing of the proposed marriage until he arrived, at Napoleon’s order, in Munich. The two young people never saw each other until four days before the wedding. Fortunately they fell in love at once, and their married life was one of exceptional devotion and happiness. Napoleon was so pleased with the course things took that he adopted Eugene at the time of the celebration of the marriage—a great blow to the Bonapartes and a new happiness for Josephine. The fatiguing duties attendant upon official journeys in foreign countries and upon holding a court in a strange city were repeated again in 1806. In January, after Eugene’s marriage, Josephine came back to Paris with the Emperor; but in September he left for the campaign against Prussia and Russia, and she went to Mayence to establish her court. This time the journey was not according to the code, for Napoleon had wished the Empress to remain in Paris during his absence, and it was only at the last moment that, over- come by her grief, he consented that she go with him in his carriage. Only a single maid accompanied her—the royal household not being able to start its cumbersome self for several days. At Mayence Josephine remained until Janu- ary. Hortense, now Queen of Holland (Louis had been made King in 1806), was with her, with her two little sons, and in many ways the court was agreeable; but Josephine wished to join the Emperor, and it was only when he com- manded her to go to Paris, that she consented to return and open her court there. The tact and good sense with which Josephine conducted herself in her exacting and slavish position—the grace and patience with which she wore her royal harness, are as pa- thetic as they are marvelous. To rule her household, with all the jealousies and meannesses natural to such a combi- ETIOUET ITE 391 nation of women, so that there would be no scandals, and that the members would respect and love her, was a delicate task; but she never failed in it. She kept their love, and she kept her supremacy—even the supremacy of beauty. There were many of the young women received by the First Consul who were glad enough to try to outshine Josephine; but she almost always outwitted them. An amusing example of her skill is an encounter that occurred between her and her sister-in-law, Pauline. Pauline, who was young, vivacious, and very pretty, always resented a little the charm that Josephine exercised, and she took no small pleasure in trying to outdo her. In 1803, she was mar- ried to the Prince Borghese, at the chateau of Joseph Bona- parte, Mortefontaine. A few days after her marriage, she appeared in Paris, where she was presented officially at St. Cloud. It was natural enough that Pauline should de- sire to outshine everybody at this presentation, but Josephine desired particularly that she herself should not be so thrown into the shadow that Napoleon would notice it. She did a very clever thing. Although it was winter, she put on a light robe of white Indian muslin, the garment which always became her best and in which Napoleon delighted to see her. The gown was made very simply, and her only ornaments were enamelled lion’s heads which caught up the sleeves on her shoulder and which formed a buckle to her girdle. Her arms and neck were bare, and her hair was done on the top of her head. She made an altogether charming picture; and when the First Consul saw her, he said, “ Why, Jo- sephine, what does this mean? Iam jealous, you have got- ten yourself up for somebody. What makes you so beauti- ful to-day?”’ Even after they were in the salon, his com- pliments continued. The Princess Borghese was a little late in arriving. When she did appear, she was resplendent; her dress was a bright green velvet, embroidered with dia- 392 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE monds; at her side was a great bouquet of brilliants; on her head, a diadem of emeralds and diamonds. Josephine in her simple robe stood at the end of the salon waiting exactly as if she had been a sovereign, to let her sister-in-law come to her. Pauline was obliged to go the length of the salon. to salute her. After the presentation, she said to Madame Junot, who tells the story, “* My sister-in-law thought she would be disagreeable when she made me cross the salon; in fact, she delighted me, because otherwise the train of my gown could not have been seen.’’ Presently, however, Pau- line was thrown into despair. She had forgotten entirely that the grand salon where they were received was furnished in blue, and that while it made a charming background for Josephine’s white muslin, for her green velvet it was some- thing deplorable. Josephine, of course, could not be accused of having planned this; it was Pauline’s own forgetfulness which had wrought her confusion. The white gown and the regal manner were a favorite device of Josephine when she suspected that some young and fascinating woman was preparing to outshine her. One very difficult task for Josephine in her court was holding her own with the women of noble birth who were eradually being admitted, but she did it by a combination of graciousness, deference, and majesty which was not to be analyzed, and which only an all but infinite tact explain. It was tact born of good-will—a good-will which everybody about her admitted. “‘ No one ever denied the exquisite goodness of Madame Bonaparte,’ Mlle. Avrillon says. “She was extremely affable with everybody about her. I do not believe that there ever was a woman who made her companions feel their dependence less than she.” Madame de Remusat says that to goodness she joined a remarkably even disposition, and the faculty of forgetting any evil that any one had done to her. Another member of her house- ETIQUETTE 393 hold has said of her goodness, that it was as inseparable from her character as grace from her person; “she was good to excess, sensitive beyond all expression, generous to prodigality; she tried to make everybody happy about her, and no woman was ever more loved by those who served her and merited it more. . . . As she had known unhappiness, she knew how to sympathize with the troubles of others. Her temper was always sweet, always even, as obliging for her enemies as for her friends; she made peace wherever there was trouble or discord.”’ Josephine was no less happy when on her journeys than at home. She won everybody. No one was presented who did not go away feeling that in some way the Empress had especially distinguished him. As a matter of fact, she pre- pared herself carefully for her meetings with foreigners by employing an instructor who informed her about their fami- lies, their deeds, their books, their diplomatic victories. She mastered this instruction so thoroughly that she always had some flattering reference at her tongue’s end. The diligence and energy she showed in preparing herself for official func- tions is the more surprising when one remembers her nat- ural indolence. Josephine had few resources in which she could find relief from her burden of etiquette. She cared little for books-— out-of-door sports wearied her, and the hunt, on which she often accompanied the Emperor, was a sore trial. She was afraid, to begin with, and she never failed to cry over a wounded beast. She was a poor musician. She embroid- ered, to be sure, but not because she cared for it, she did like cards, and played tric-trac whenever etiquette allowed it. She played a good hand of whist, too; and she was very fond of telling her own fortune with cards—hardly a day passed, indeed, that she did not try to read the future from cards. y ‘ 1 oy JOSEPHINE, EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH AND QUEEN OF ITALY. 1805. Designed by Buguet. 394 ETIQUETTE 395 The one real pleasure in her life was undoubtedly her toilet. She had always been extravagantly fond of personal decoration—she loved brilliant stones, gay silks, fine laces, soft cashmeres; and when she found herself an Empress, with every reason and every opportunity for indulging her love of finery, she abandoned herself to the pleasure until her wardrobe became the chief amusement of her life. Almost every day men and women, bearing stuffs of all sorts—jewels, models, laces, everything, in short, that French fancy could devise for a woman’s toilet-—found their way to Josephine’s private apartments. Before these wily tradespeople she had no self-restraint—one should say, per- haps, no self-respect,—for almost invariably she allowed herself to be wheedled into buying. The numbers of pieces added to her wardrobe each year indicates a startling prodigality. Thus, in one year, she bought one hundred and thirty-six dresses, twenty cashmere shawls, seventy- three corsets, forty-eight pieces of elegant stuffs, eighty- seven hats, seventy-one pairs of silk stockings, nine hundred and eighty pairs of gloves, five hundred and twenty pairs of shoes. If this had been an unusual purchase, it might be explained; but it was not. With every season there was the same thoughtless buying of all that struck her fancy. It was out of the question for her to wear all she bought, for Jo- sephine was not one who prided herself on never appearing twice in the same costume. Many of the things she bought she never put on at all; and when her wardrobes were over- burdened, she made a little fete of the task of lightening them, giving away piece after piece of uncut lace, pattern after pattern of velvet, silk or muslin, rich gowns, hats, stockings, shoes. Anything and everything was scattered in the same reckless fashion in which it had been acquired. Not that her giving of personal articles was confined to this occasional clearing out of stock; she gave as one of her royal 396 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE prerogatives, whenever it pleased her to do so. Often she took from her shoulders a delicate scarf or superb cashmere shaw] to throw about some one of her ladies whom she heard admiring it, and not infrequently she sent a gown to one who had complimented her on its beauty. Mlle. Ducrest says that one day she heard a gentleman of the household, in admiring a cashmere gown which the Empress wore, remark that the pattern would do very well for a waistcoat. Josephine picked up a pair of scissors, and cutting the skirt of her dress into three pieces, gave one to each of the three gentlemen in the room. Josephine’s prodigality catsed great confusion in her budget. She was allowed, at the beginning of her reign, $72,000 a year for her toilet, and later this was increased to $90,000. But there was never a year during the time that she did not far over-reach her allowance and oblige the Em- peror to come to her relief. According to the estimate Mas- son has made, Josephine spent on an average $220,000 yearly on her toilet during her reign. It is only by going over her wardrobe article by article and noting the cost and number of each piece that one can realize how a woman could spend this amount. Take the simple item of her hose—which were almost always white silk, often richly embroidered or in open work. She kept 150 or more pairs on hand, and they cost from $4.00 to $8.00 a pair. She employed two hair-dressers—one for every-day, at $1,200 a year ; the other for great occasions, at $2,000 a year; and she paid them each from one thousand to two thousand dollars a year for furnishings. It was the same for all the smaller items of her toilet. Coming to gowns, the sums they cost were enormous. Her simple muslin gowns, of which her wardrobe always contained two hundred and more, cost from one hundred to four hundred dollars apiece. Her cashmere and velvet ETIQUETTE 397 gowns were much more costly, ornamented as many of them were with ermine and with buckles, buttons, and girdles set with precious stones. One of her great extravagances was cashmere shawls. She never had enough of them—it is true she gave away many—and she rarely appeared without one within reach. Her collection of shawls is said to have been the most valuable ever seen in Europe. Many of them were made after patterns which she sent herself to the Orient. They were of every delicate shade of color, and in texture they were like gossamer. Her coquetry with these beautiful drapes was like the coquetry of the Spanish sig- nora witha fan. She said everything with them. A large lump of Josephine’s yearly allowance for dress went into jewels. Her extravagance in this particular was less justifiable than in any other, because she already owned a large quantity of precious stones of all sorts when she be- came Empress, many of them gifts to her in Italy, and be- cause as Empress she had at her command the magnificent crown jewels—$1,000,000 worth of gems, in fact, were hers when she wished. Nevertheless, she bought—evidently for the mere pleasure of buying and laying away—innumerable ornaments of every description, scores of which she probably never put on; rings, bracelets, necklaces, girdles, buckles, all by the hundreds. No stone known to commerce but was represented in her collection. No form into which gold and silver can be fashioned which was not found there. She had specimens of the ornaments of all ages and all countries, and of the novelties of the times she bought by the score. She not only added incessantly, but she ex- changed, reset, recut, carried on, in fact, a trade. To the end of her life she kept her interest in her jewels, and loved to show them to her companions, to play with them, to deco- rate herself with them. They were kept together for many years after her death, but were finally sold by Hortense. 398 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE When experts came to value them, it was found that accord- ing to the prices they set—fully one-third below the cost price—the large pieces alone, such as her diadem of dia- monds and her splendid pearl necklace, were worth nearly a million dollars; and as for the small pieces—the innumer- able trinkets of every size and kind and style—their value was never computed. The effect on the Emperor of Josephine’s prodigality can be imagined. He appreciated as she never could the lack of dignity in her reckless spending, and did his utmost to persuade her to keep her accounts in order. He even re- sorted to severe measures, turning out of the palace trades- people who he knew hung about her apartments watching an opportunity to show her a novelty in modes or in ornamenta- tion, a rare jewel or a rich shawl. He ordered that her ex- penses be regulated by a person especially appointed for that purpose and that Josephine herself be not allowed to buy anything without supervision. None of these means effected anything. Annually there was a great debt run up by her, and when the settlement could be put off no longer, Jose- phine would confess. She always put the amount far below what it actually was, and only after much badgering could Napoleon get at the real state of things. Then there was a scene, ending always in tears from Josephine. Invariably they conquered Napoleon. ‘‘ Come, come, pet, dry your tears,” he would beg, “ don’t worry; ”’ and he paid the debts, and raised her income. In twelve months the scene was re- peated. ChCP ERY LT JOSEPHINE NOT ALLOWED TO GO TO POLAND—FEAR OF DI- VORCE —THE RECONCILIATION OF I1807-1808—THE CAM- PAIGN OF I809 AND ITS EFFECT ON NAPOLEON. OR two years after she mounted the throne, Josephine felt tolerably secure in its possession. It was not until the winter of 1806-1807, when Napoleon was busy with war against Russia and Prussia, that the spectre which had alarmed her at the beginning of the Life Con- sulate and again at the proclamation of the Empire, arose again. Her first alarm came from the fact that when she wanted to go to the Emperor from Mayence, whither she had taken her household, he put her off. Sometimes he even rebuked her for her persistence in clinging to the idea. “ Talleyrand comes, and tells me that you do nothing but cry,” he wrote her on November Ist. “ But what do you want? You have your daughter, your grandchildren, and good news; certainly you have the materials for happiness and contentment.’’ More often he flattered and petted, as when, on November 28th, he wrote from Warsaw: “ All the Polish women are Frenchwomen, but there is only one wo- man for me. Do you know her? I could draw her portrait for you; but I should have to flatter it too much for you to recognize it; nevertheless, to tell the truth, my heart would have only good things to tell you.” And again, a few days later: “I have your letter of November 26th. I notice two things: you say, ‘1 don’t read your letters ’; that is unjust. I am sorry for your bad opinion. You tell me you are not 399 400 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE jealous. I have long observed that people who are angry always say that they are not angry, that people who are afraid say they are not afraid; so you are convicted of jeal- ousy; I am delighted! Besides, you are mistaken, and in the deserts of fair Poland one thinks but little about pretty women. Yesterday I was at a ball of the nobility of the province; rather pretty women, rather rich, rather ill dressed, although in the Paris fashion.”” He continued all through December to try to dissuade her. “I have your letter of November 27th, and I see that your little head is much excited. I remember the line: “A woman’s wish is a devouring flame,’ and [ must calm you. I wrote to you that I was in Poland, that when we should have got into winter quarters you might come; so you must wait a few days. The greater one becomes, the less will one must have; one depends on events and circumstances. You may go to Frankfurt or Darmstadt. JI hope to summon you in a few days, but events must decide. The warmth of your letter convinces me that you pretty women take no account of ob- stacles; what you want must be; but I must say that | am the greatest slave that lives; my master has no heart, and this master is the nature of things.” Josephine would not give up her plan, however, and in Napoleon’s arguments that the trip from Mayence to War- saw was too long—the roads too bad, the weather too cold, for her to venture it, that she was needed in Paris, she saw only a desire to be free from her presence; and when finally he ordered her to “ go back to Paris to be happy and con- tented there,” she obeyed with tears and lamentations. Jo- sephine’s jealousy at this time was more than justifiable. For many months, in fact, she had known beyond question of Napoleon’s various infidelities, and she suspected that the real reason he refused her request to be allowed to go to him was that he had found a new mistress. Or might it not be, 6e FEAR OF DIVORCE 401 she asked herself, that he was planning a divorce and re-mar- riage. he first supposition was true. It was Madame Walewski who was the chief obstacle to Josephine going to Warsaw, although the reasons Napoleon gave—the danger of the journey and the need of Josephine in Paris—were plausible enough at the moment. It was not until July, 1807, that the Emperor took up the subject of a divorce, as a political necessity, with his coun- sellors. While at Tilsit with the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia, the divorce was discussed, and Napoleon ordered that a list of the marriageable princesses of Europe be made out for him. No doubt vague rumors of the trans- actions at Tilsit reached Josephine. She took them the more to heart because in May of that year (1807) Hortense’s eld- est son, Napoleon-Charles, had died. ‘The death of the boy destroyed one of hen chieh) hopes: walt removed thes child whom she knew Napoleon so loved that he would have been well satisfied to have made him his successor. Hortense had a second child, Napoleon-Louis; but the Emperor did not have the same feeling for him. When Napoleon returned to Paris after the meeting at Tilsit, Josephine was prepared to do all that was possible to reconquer the place in her husband’s heart, which many months’ absence had certainly weakened. She even had Hortense’s little son Louis with her, a constant reminder to the Empire that here was an heir of Bonaparte and Beauhar- nais blood. Her hopes were soon shattered by Fouché, who made an appeal to her. For the sake of the country, the dy- nasty, Napoleon, would she not herself voluntarily offer to withdraw. Panicstricken, yet not daring to go directly to her husband to know if. this was his will, Josephine could only weep. Napoleon saw her sorrow, but had not the cour- age to talk with her. Finally Talleyrand, taking the case in hand, persuaded Josephine to speak first to Napoleon. Over- EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. Fragment from the picture of the marriage of Jerome Bonaparte and the Princess Catherine. 402 FEAR OF DIVORCE 403 come completely, the Emperor feigned amazement, stormed at the baseness of Fouché, wept over Josephine, swore he could not leave her; but he did not deceive her—or himself. Josephine took a clever course—she told him she would con- sent to his will quietly for love of him and for the sake of the throne—if he commanded her. But that Napoleon could not do. He ordered that the question of divorce be dropped, gave Fouché such treatment as perhaps a man never before received for carrying out his superior’s will, and for a time bestowed upon Josephine lover-like attentions so marked that the whole court looked on and wondered. The fall of 1807 the Emperor strove to make very gay, and during the sojourns at Rambouillet for the hunt and the month at Fontainebleau the Empresswas really at the height of her power. He could not give her up, could not, in spite of his dynasty, in spite of Mme. Walewski, the woman who had sacrificed herself to him for the sake of Poland, and for whom he had a great respect 2s well as ardent passion. Josephine was necessary to him. It was a tenderness born of association—of all of the thousand sweet ties which twelve years of life together had wrought. What matter if she was growing old; what matter that he might have a royal princess for his wife—that his heart was with Mme. Walewski, it was Josephine, and no one ever had aroused such a wealth of tenderness as she—no one could again. The court could only look on and wonder to see the weak- ness of the tyrant before this woman. They even noted how jealous he was of her that fall, when the young German prince of Mecklenburg-Schwerin fell in love with her and did not hesitate to show it. Josephine herself laughed at the young man’s ardor, but Napoleon looked askance and doubled his tenderness. The winter of 1807 and 1808 was spent in Paris, and the shadow was not large. It was true that Mme. Walewsk1 404 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE was now in the city; but if Josephine knew anything of this liaison, she ignored it completely. So long as she was Em- press infidelities had little effect on her. Mme. de Remusat says that not only did Josephine shut her eyes to them, but she “pushed her complacency to the point of granting par- ticular favors to some of his mistresses.” In the spring and summer her hold on the Emperor seemed to herself and to those about her to have been strengthened by the four and a half months which the two spent with only a small suite at Bayonne, where the Emperor’s presence was necessary to direct the affairs with Spain. Napoleon had preceded the Empress, who waited in Bordeaux for news of Hortense, to whom a third son was born on April 20, 1808. The news brought great joy to Josephine, and no doubt had some- thing to do with her happiness in the next few months. It provided a second heir, and made divorce seem less impera- tive. In spite of the sinister events of the sojourn at Bayonne— it was here that the King of Spain, Charles IV., and his heir, Ferdinand, abdicated their rights and that Joseph Bonaparte was made King of Spain—there was much gaietyaround Jo- sephine. There were dinners and fétes and drives, and the French Empress and the Spanish Queen Louise seemed to enjoy each other’s society as 1f a throne were not changing hands and a noble house falling, because of the disgraceful inaction and jealousy of one ruler and the cynical ambition and self-confidence of the other. The really delightful part of Josephine’s life at Bayonne was the informal intimacy which she and Napoleon enjoyed. Never since the days at Malmaison had they been together so long and so freely. They made the most of their liberty, even romping before the eyes of the members of their small suite in a most unroyal way. The Castle of Marrac, which they occupied, was near the shore, and they spent much time FEAR OF DIVORCE 405 on the beach, where the Emperor, dragging the Empress to the water, would push her into it or dash sand over her, laughing like a teasing boy as he did so. In one of these romps the little, low silk slippers which the Empress always wore slipped off, and Napoleon, seizing them, threw them into the surf, making Josephine walk back to her carriage in stocking feet. It was with such frolics that the two en- livened the days at Marrac, in the summer of 1808. Their journey back to Paris was a triumphal procession, wherein Josephine, by her tact, her amiability, her unflagging in- terest, won every heart. Never had she seemed more ad- mirable to Napoleon as an Empress, never more charming as a woman. It was in August, 1808, that Josephine returned to Paris, after four and a half months with her husband. A few days later, he left her for Erfurth, where he was to meet Alexander of Russia and the German sovereigns, for a con- ference on the affairs of Europe. At a gathering of the magnitude and splendor of this at Erfurth it would have been fitting that the Empress be present, but Napoleon did not deem it wise for her to leave France. That Napoleon meant to indicate by leaving her at home that his decision to have a divorce was taken and that this was the beginning of the separation is not clear, though it is certain that the subject was much in his mind at Erfurth. The stability an heir would give to his throne and the value of an alliance with one of the old houses of Europe, now became clearer than ever to him, and undoubtedly Napoleon came back to Josephine with the idea more firmly fixed in mind than be- fore. Those who saw them together after Erfurth said to themselves, “He is meditating the divorce again.” Jo- sephine feared it. What else could mean his short brusque remarks, his evident desire to escape her company, his averted eyes. 406 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE Dread the future as she might, she could do nothing. To question Napoleon was to irritate him, and nothing, she knew, was more unwise. To show a sad face, to weep, was to drive him from her presence, for he detested tears with all the force of the strong reasoning controlled creature who sees nothing but a meaningless waste of strength in them. She knew too well the empire of Napoleon over all those about him to attempt to build up a party of her own that at the issue would throw its influence in her favor. ‘There was but one thing to oppose to the imperious will of her husband—his affection for her. To cherish that, doing nothing of which he could complain, nothing which would irritate or weary him; to show him at every meeting her amiability, her devotion, her tact, to win from him the confession that no woman could fill more gracefully and successfully than she was doing her difficult position,—this was Josephine’s course, and the one which she followed ceaselessly after the interview in 1807. Certainly the fear was continually in her heart after Erfurth, but to him she gave no sign. She was gentle, apparently trusting; tactful, and cautious—the very qualities which Napoleon admired most in women and found rarest. Every day of intercourse made it harder for him to come to a resolution, and every day increased her own anxiety. It was only ten days after Erfurth that the war in Spain compelled Napoleon to leave Paris. Josephine was left alone. ‘There was little in the letters she received from Spain to disturb her peace of mind; as always, they gave her details of the Emperor’s health, expressed concern for hers, gave brief bits of news—optimistic always; rarely a word of a disaster was put into a letter to Josephine—direc- tions about fetes, about the reception of persons to be sent to her, comments and inquiries on family matters: such letters, in short, as she had always received. Yet there was an un- FEAR OF DIVORCE 407 easiness in Josephine’s mind which she could not conquer ; —it was fed by rumors from idle and more or less malicious tongues in her circle. It was not only the uncertainty of her own fate which distressed her; she had further reason for grief in the un- happiness of Hortense, who had been reconciled with her husband for a time, but was now more wretched than ever, and whose frequent letters to Josephine must have cut her to the heart again and again. Her tenderness and her wisdom in her councils to her daughter at this time, indeed at all times, are admirable. It would not have been surpris- ing 1f in receiving daily the complaints of Hortense, at a mo- ment of so much uneasiness regarding her true situation, she had resented the misery of her daughter; but there is never a shadow of irritation in her letters. In January, Josephine had the joy of seeing Napoleon return. For the two months and a half he was in Paris she watched him closely, but to no purpose. Indeed public af- fairs were in such a condition that the Emperor had little or no time to give her. He was working day and night in a frenzied effort to clear France of the traitors who, within his government, indeed within his own family, were plot- ting his overthrow, and to put an army in order for the war he saw Austria and her allies preparing for him. There was no time in the winter of 1808 and 1809 for the con- sideration of divorce and marriage, and if a decision for a divorce had been taken at Erfurth, the realization was far enough off. To all outward appearances, Josephine was safe. She was gratified, too, when the day of the Emperor’s departure came in April, by being allowed to accompany him as far as Strasburg, where she set up her court for the next few months. Here were soon gathered about her sey- eral of the family: Hortense, with her two little sons, the Queen of Westphalia, and the Grand Duchess of Baden. 408 LIFE OF JOSEPHINE Here she received from the Emperor himself the first news of the succession of victories with which the campaign of 1809 opened. First it was Abensberg, then Eckmuhl, then Ratisbonne, that he recounted to her. It was a triumphal march, as always; but at Ratisbonne something happened which threw Josephine into consternation. Napoleon was hit by a ball. The news came to the Empress indirectly, and she hurriedly sent a courier to find out the actual con- dition of the wound. “ The ball which hit me did not wound me,” he replied, “it scarcely grazed Achilles’ heel. My health is very good. It is wrong for you to worry. Everything is going well.” Four days later, the Empress received a special courier from the Emperor, who announced to her the surrender of Vienna. Josephine was very happy. It argued well for a speedy end to the campaign. Her happiness was brief. The defeat at Essling, and the death of Marshall Lannes, filled her with foreboding. She, with many others of her day, looked on the career of the Emperor with superstitious awe. It was luck—a star. The charm broken, the star obscured, all would go. It is doubtful if Josephine, any more than hundreds of others who surrounded the Emperor, ever realized his stupendous genius or the gigantic efforts the man made to wrest victories from fate. It was the common story of one who spends himself in achievement, and in the end hears himself called a - lucky fellow. “After the de- feat at Essling, Josephine discerned on every side the joy of Napoleon’s enemies, saw the alarm of his friends, heard in her own heart the knell of fate. To complete her misery, she feared she had offended the Emperor. Hortense, who had been at Strasburg for some time, was ordered by her physician to go to Baden for the waters. It was the Em- peror’s order that no one of the royal family should change quarters without his consent. Hortense went to Baden FEAR OF DIVORCE 409 without consulting him, taking with her the two young princes. The Emperor was irritated. “ My daughter,” he wrote her less than a week after Essling, “ 1 am dissatisfied to find that you have left France without my permission, and above all that you have taken my nephews away. Since you are at Baden, stay; but within an hour after you receive this letter, send my two nephews to Strasburg to the Em- press. They must never leave France. It is the first time I have had any occasion to be dissatisfied with you, but you should never make any arrangements for my nephews with- out my consent. You must feel the bad effect that would have. This letter was sent to Hortense through Josephine, who opened it, thinking to have news herself from Napoleon, about whom she was greatly concerned. It was a new cause of worry. Would he not blame her for Hortense’s act? At least the two children had already been sent back to her —that was one reason for congratulation; but she hastened to write to Hortense urging her to try and appease the Em- peror. Her anxiety became so great that her health began to give way, and she, too, had to leave Strasburg, in June, for treatment at Plombieres, in the Vosges. Josephine had been frequently before at Plombieéres, but certainly never before so quietly since she was Empress. The usual suite accompanied her, the same imposing livery, the same magnificent wardrobe, but no reception, no balls, no excursions marked her sojourn. She lived like a retired Empress almost—scattering charities everywhere, and amusing herself principally with her little grandsons, upon whom she lavished toys of every description in the profusion and extravagance with which she had always heaped jewels and finery upon herself. Daily she enjoyed Louis more. “Tam so happy to have your son here,” she wrote Hortense. “He is charming, and I am becoming more and more at- ang op Ae ype Pe a 4 oe act wakes —~ oe Loe eee sae JOSEPHINE, THE FIRST WIFE OF NAPOLEON. Engraved by Audouin, after Laurent. This portrait ‘‘ Joséphine impératrice des Francais, reine d’Italie,’? is surrounded by an elaborate frame of Imperial emblems. After the divorce, Josephine’s portrait was erased from the plate, and that of Marie Louise inserted. 410 FEAR OF DIVORCE ALI tached to him. . . . Huis little reasonings amuse me exceedingly.” The rapid recovery of fortune which followed the reverse at Essling soon reassured Josephine. She saw from Na- poleon’s letters that, however his critics might feel that his star was waning, he himself had not lost courage. He scorned their exultation. “ They have made an appoint- ment to meet at my tomb,” he said, “but they’ll not dare carry it out.” His deeds verified his words. In rapid suc- cession, he sent Josephine announcements of the series of victories which marked the latter half of June, 1809, and which culminated in Wagram on July 6th. 5- 7 Toro" In the year 1785, Napoleon left the Military School at Paris, and was admitted as a Second Lieutenant in the regi- ment of La Feére. At this time he signed like his father: “ Buonaparte, younger son, gentleman, at the Royal Mili- taGye > CUOOlOts Parise. Napoleon obtained a company in 1789, and in 1792 he was sent at the head of a battalion of Volunteer Infantry, which was to take part in an expedition against Sardinia. On returning from this expedition, he commanded the artil- * This collection of signatures is reproduced from “* Napoléon reconté par lV’Image ”’ by Armand Dayot. 453 454 LIFE OF NAPOLEON lery at the siege of Toulon. His signature then was as fol- lows: YAK After the capture of Ollioules, the 3rd of December, 1793, Napoleon was made General, and in 1794 he commanded the artillery of the Army of Italy. At the commencement of the year 1795 he was ordered to join the Infantry in the Vendée, but he refused and remained in Paris, where he was attached to the Minister of War. The 5th of October of this year, he commanded under Barras, the Army of the Convention, against the Sections of Paris, and became, thanks to him, General of Division. A little later Barras gave him the Commanding Chief of thewArinyeotstiem nteriog Up to this time Napoleon had not changed the spelling of his name. The heading of his letters read “ Buonaparte, general en chef de larmée de linterieur,” and he signed “ Buonaparte.” The next signature is at the end of a note on the Army of Italy dated January 19, 1796, Le Général Buonaparte. AUTOGRAPHS 455 In the Memorial from St. Helena, Napoleon says that in his youth he signed Buonaparte like his father, and having obtained the command of the Army of Italy, he changed this spelling, which was Italian, but some years later, being among the French, he signed Bonaparte. Napoleon was made General-in-Chief of the Army of Italy, the 23rd of Feb., 1796, and he signed Buonaparte up forthe 2oih of theisame montits? Ele lett Paris to join: the Army towards the middle of the following month, and in the first letter he addressed to the Directory, dated Nice, the 28th of March, from his headquarters, he informed them that he had taken command of the Army the day before, and he signed himself Bonaparte. From this time the change was generally adopted, and the official letters bear the signature “ Bonaparte, General-in- Chief of the Army of Italy.” From his headquarters at Carcare, Napoleon addressed to the Directory at Paris his reports on the battle of Monte- notte, which opened the Italian campaign. This letter was dated April 14, 1796, and signed Bonaparte. In his celebrated proclamation from Milan, the 2oth of March, 1796, Napoleon thus addressed his army: * Soldiers, you have precipitated yourselves like a torrent from the top 456 LIFE OF NAPOLEON of the Apennines, Milan is yours!’’ and he signed Bona- parte. As General-in-Chief of the Egyptian Expedition, Napo- leon signed as follows: From Cairo, the 30th of July, 1798, he signed himself Bonaparte. When he first became Emperor, he signed himself Na- poleon. AUTOGRAPHS 457 The above is one of the first signatures of the Emperor. It was given at Saint Cloud, the 25th of May, 1804. The first three letters NAPoleon, and exactly like this in the middle of his signature when he was accustomed to signing himself BuoNAParte. Up to 1805 he continued to sign his whole name. The 18th of September, 1805, he signed: (Wye After the battle of Austerlitz, which ended the campaign of 1805, the proclamation of Napoleon, dated from the Imperial Camp. ort Austeriitz™ the 3rd’ of Wecember, 1805, was signed Napoleon. ley — Beginning with the campaign of 1806, he signed only the first five letters of his name, thus, Napol. a 458 LIFE OF NAPOLEON The 26th of October, 1806, at Potsdam, the Emperor signed himself thus, 1G. The 29th of October, 1806, from Berlin, as follows: he The 27th of January, from Varsovia, in From the Imperial Camp at Tilsit, the 22nd of June, 1807, the Emperor signed only his initial, as below, and very rarely after that his entire name: N. i AUTOGRAPHS 459 Q The 7th of December, 1808, he signed from Madrid, thus, NV. At the commencement of the campaign of 1800, in writ- ing to Marshall Massena, he signed himself as follows: From the Imperial Camp of Ratisbonne, the 24th of April, 1809, the Emperor addressed a proclamation to the Army, ending thus, “* Before a month has passed, | shall be at Vienna,” and he signed Less than three weeks afterwards, the French Army was 460 LIFE OF NAPOLEON at Vienna, and the Emperor signed his decrees from the Palace of Schoenbrunn, 13th of May: The same variety of signatures is found in the orders dated Moscow, the city whiclr he had entered as a Con- QucrTOr einem 2tneOle.5eplemberms 12% The 21st of Sept., 1812, at 3 o’clock in the morning, the Emperor signed himself as follows: During the campaign of 1813, the Emperor sent an order from Dresden to the Major-General, dated October Ist, at noon. General Petit relates that he reflected some time be- AUTOGRAPHS 461 fore sending it, for the signature had been scratched out twice, and written a third time. One of the next extraordinary signatures of the Em- peror’s, is the following, which he gave at Erfurt, October Temelols: The 4th of April, 1814, Fontainebleau, thus, N. 462 LIFE OF NAPOLEON The gth of September, 1814, from the Isle of Elba, he writes thus: Nap. On July 14, 1815, the Emperor wrote to the Prince Regent of England and signed himself eon At Longwood, St: Helena, on Dec! 11,°1616, thes ine peror wrote to Count Las Cases a letter of condolence on the order the Count had received to leave the island. It was his first signature at St. Helena. 1. Joseph (1768-1844), married in 1794 to Marie Julie Clary. From this marrtage : (1) Zénaide Charlotte (1801-1854), married in 1832 to her cousin, Charles Bona- parte, Prince de Canino. (2) Charlotte (1802 1839), Married in 1831 Napoleon Louis, her cousin, second son of Louis. 464 TABLE OF THE CHARLES BONAPARTE. (1746-1785 ) MARRIED From thts 2d. NAPOLEON I. (1769-1821), married (1) Marie Josephine Rose Tascher de la Pagerie in 1796. (2) Marie Louise, Archduchess of Au- stria, in 1810. Adopted the first children : wife's two (t) Eugéne (1781-1824), who married the Princess Augusta Amelia, daughter of the King of Bavaria, From this marrtage : (a) Maximilian Joseph, Duke of Leuch- tenberg, who married in 1839 a daughter of the Czar Nicholas. (6) Josephine, married in 1823 to Oscar Bernadotte, since King of Sweden under the name of Charles XIV. (°) Eugénie Hortense, married in 1826 to Prince Frederick of Hohenzol- lern Hechingen. (@) Amélie Augusta, married in 1829 to Dom Pedro, Emperor of Brazil. (e) Auguste Charles, married in 1835 to Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal. (f) Théodeline Louise, married in 1841 to William, Count of Wtirtemberg. G) Eugénie Hortense (1783-1827), mar- ried to Louis Bonaparte. (See Louis. From second marrtage : Francois Charles Joseph (NAPOLEON II.), King of Rome, afterwards Duke of Reichstadt (1811-1832). BONAPARTE FAMILY. MARIE LATITIA RAMOLINO. (1750-1836 ) IN 1765. marriage : 3d. Lucten (1775-1840), married : 4th. Marte Anne Eltza (1777-1820), mar- (x) in 1794, Christine Eleonore Boyer. ried to Felix Bacciochi in 1797. (2) in 1802, Madame Jouberthon, from thts marriage : From first marriage : G) Charles Jerome JBacchiochi 1810- (x) Charlotte, married in 1815 to Prince 1830. Mario Gabrielli. (2) Napoleone Eliza, married to Count () Christine Egypta, married in 1818 to Camerata. Count Avred Posse, a Swede, and in 1824 to Lord Dudley Coutts Stuart. From second marriage : (2) Charles Lucien Jules Laurent, Prince of Canino, married to elder daughter of Joseph Bonaparte, Charles Lucien had eight children : Joseph, who died young; Lucien a cardinal in 1868; Napoleon, served in French army; julie, married to the Marquis de Boccagiovine ; Charlotte, who became the Count- ess of Primoli; Augusta, afterwards the Princess Gabrielli; Marie, mar- ried to Count Campello; Bathilde, married to Count Cambacérés. (2) Letitia, married to Sir Thomas Wyse. (3) Paul, killed in 1826. (4) Jeanne, died in 1828. (s) Louis Lucien, known as Prince Lu- cien, and distinguished as a writer. (6) Pierre Napoleon, known as Prince Pierre, married to a sempstress, and refused to give herup. The oldest son of Prince Pierre is the Prince Roland Bonaparte. He would now be the chief of the House of Bona- parte, if Lucien had not been cut off from the succession. (7) Antoine. (8) Marie, married to the Viscount Va- lentini. (9) Constance, who took the veil. 465 sth. Louzs (1778-1846) married in 1802 to Eugénie Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of Josephine. from this marriage: (1) Napoleon Charles, heir-presumptive to the throne of Holland, died in 1807. (2) Charles Napoleon Louis, married his cousin Charlotte, daughter of Jos- eph; died in 1831. (3) Charles Louis Napoleon, Emperor of the French in 1852, under the title of NAPOLEON III, married in 1853 to Eugénie de Montijo de Guzman Countess of Teba. Frrom this marrtage: Napoleon Eugéne Louis Jean Joseph Prince Imperial, born in 1856; killed in Zululand in 1879 466 TABLE OF THE CHARLES BONAPARTE. (1746-1785.) MARRIED from this 6th. Marze Pauline (1780-1825), married (1) in 1801 to General Leclerc. (2) in 1803 to Prince Camille Borghese, No children, BONAPARTE FAMILY. MARIE LZXTITIA RAMOLINO. (1750-1836.) IN 1765. marriage: CONTINUED, qth. Caroline Marie Annonciade (1782- 1839), married Joachim Murat in 1800. From this marriage: (1) Napoleon Achille Charles Louis Murat (1801-1847), went to Florida where he married a grand-niece of George Washington. (2) Letitia Joséphe, married to the Marquis of Pepoli. (3) Lucien Charles Joseph Francois Napoleon Murat, married an Ameri- can, a Miss Fraser, in 1827, From this marriage there were five chil- dren. (4) Louise Julie Caroline, married Count Rospoli, 467 8th. Jerome (1784-1860), married : (x) in 1803 to Miss Eliza Patterson of Baltimore; and (2) in 1807 to the Princess Catharine of Wiirtemberg. from first marriage; Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte-Paterson (1805-1870) married in 1829 to Miss Suzanne Gay. Two children were born from this marriage: (x1) Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte (1832- 1893). (z) Charles Bonaparte, at present a resident of Baltimore. From second marriage: (1) Jerome Napoleon Charles, who died in 1847. (2) Mathilde Letita Wilhelmine, mar- ried in 1840 toa Russian, Prince Demidoff, but separated from him: known as the Princess Mathilde. (3) Napoleon Joseph Charles Paul, call- ed Prince Napoleon, also known as Plon Plon, married in 1859 the Prin- cess Clotilde, daughter of King Victor Emmanuel of Italy. Onthe death of the Prince Imperial, in 1879, became chief of the Bonapartist party. Diedin1891. Prince Napo- leon had three children: (a) Napoleon Victor Jerome Freder- ick, born in 1862, called Prince Vic- tor and the present Head of the House of Bonaparte. (b) Napoleon Louis Joseph Jerome. (c) Marie Letitia Eugénie Catharine Adelaide. - - a ba! a - - | ~ * d . - ~ - 7 : 7 + ? = os : - i - i‘. ~. fm - -: - . = a a ey ‘ ; rt : 7 = by » a _ x : = 7 - ~~ & - 7 _ ¢ - ~ a o> +} a CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF NAPO- AGE. DATE. 1d) 16. 16. 16. F7, 17. jig: 18. 18. 18-10. 1769 m7 7c Liles - 1779. 1784. 1785. 1785. 1785. 1786. 1786. iiytesee 1787. 1787 1788 LEON BONAPARTE EVENT. . Aug. 15.—Napoleon Bonaparte born at Ajaccio, in Corsica. Fourth child of Charles Bonaparte and of Letitia, née Ramolino. Dec.—Napoleon embarks for France with his father, his brother Joseph, and his Uncle Fesch. Jan. 1.—Napoleon enters the College of Autun. April 23.—Napoleon enters the Royal Military School of Brienne. Oct. 23.—Napoleon enters the Royal Military School of Paris: Sept. 1—Napoleon appointed Second Lieutenant in the Artillery Regiment de la Feére. Oct. 29.—Napoleon leaves the Military School of Paris. Nov. 5 to Aug. 11, 1786.—Napoleon at Valence with his regiment. Aug. 15 to Sept. 20.—Napoleon at Lyons with regiment. Oct. 17 to Feb. 1, 1787.—Napoleon at Douai with regiment. Feb. 1 to Oct. 14.—Napoleon on leave to Corsica. Oct. 15 to Dec. 24.—Napoleory quits Corsica, arrives in Paris, obtains fresh leave. . Dec. 25 to May, 1788.—Napoleon proceeds to Corsica and returns early in May. . May to April 4, 1789.—Napoleon at Auxonne with regi- ment. 469 22. 23. 23. 23. 24. 24. 24. 24. 24-25. 1792. 1702) 1793. 1793. 1793. 1793. 1704. 1704. - 1794. - 1795. » 1795. LIFE OF NAPOLEON EVENT. . April 5 to April 30.—Napoleon at Seurre in command of a detachment. . May 1 to Sept. 15.—Napoleon at Auxonne with regiment. . Sept. 16 to June 1, 1791.—Napoleon in Corsica. . June 2 to Aug. 29.—Napoleon joins the Fourth Regiment of Artillery at Valence as First Lieutenant. . Aug. 30.—Napoleon starts for Corsica on leave for three months; quits Corsica May 2, 1792, for France, where he has been dismissed for absence without leave. Aug. 30.—Napoleon reinstated. Sept. 14 to June 11, 1793.—Napoleon in Corsica engaged in revolutionary attempts; having declared against Paoli, he and his family are obliged to quit Corsica. June 13 to July 14.—Napoleon with his company at Nice. Oct. 9 to Dec. 19.—Napoleon placed in command of part of artillery of army of Carteaux before Toulon, 1oth Oct! ;; Toulon taken 16th Dec: Dec. 22.—Napoleon nominated provisionally General of Bri- gade; approved later; receives commission, 16th Feb., 1794. Dec. 26 to April 1, 1794.—Napoleon appointed inspector of the coast from the Rhone to the Var, on inspection duty. April 1 to Aug. 5.—Napoleon with army of Italy; at Genoa 15th-21st July. Aug. 6 to Aug. 20. 1794.—Napoleon in arrest after fall of Robespierre. Sept. 14 to March 29, 1795.—Napoleon commanding ar- tillery of an intended maritime expedition to Corsica March 27 to May 10.—Napoleon ordered from the south to join the army in La Vendée to command its artillery; arrives in Paris, 10th May. June 13.—Napoleon ordered to join Hoche’s army at Brest, to command a brigade of infantry; remains in Paris; AGE. DATE. 26. 26. 26. 26. 26. 20. 20: 27. 27: 27. 27. 1795 1795. 1795. 1706. 1706. 1706. 17096 17906 1796 1797 1797 CHRONOLOGY 471 EVENT. 21st Aug., attached to Comité de Salut Public as one of four advisers; 15th Sept., struck off list of employed generals for disobedience of orders in not proceeding to the west. . Oct. 5 (13th Vendémiaire, Jour des Sections).—Napoleon defends the Convention from the revolt of the Sections. Oct. 16.—Napoleon appointed provisionally General of Di- vision. Oct. 26.—Napoleon appointed General of Division and Com- mander of the Army of the Interior (1%. e., of Paris). March 2.—Napoleon appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Army of Italy; oth March, marries Madame de Beau- harnais, mée Tascher de la Pagerie. March 11, leaves Paris for Italy. First Italian campaign of Napoleon against Austrians under Beaulieu, and Sardinians under Colli. Battle of Montenotte, 12th April; Millesimo, 14th April; Dego, 14th and 15th April; Mondovi, 22d April; Armistice of Cherasco with Sardinians, 28th April; Battle of Lodi, roth May; Austrians beaten out of Lombardy, and Mantua besieged. . July and August.—First attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; battle of Lonato, 31st July; Lonato and Cas- tiglione, 3d Aug.; and, again, Castiglione, 5th and 6th Aug.; Wurmser beaten off, and Mantua again invested. . Sept—Second attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; bat- tle of Calliano, 4th Sept.; Primolano, 7th Sept.; Bas- sano, 8th Sept.; St. Georges, 15th Sept.; Wurmser driven into Mantua and invested there. _Nov.—Third attempt of Austrians to relieve Mantua; bat- tles of Caldiero, 11th Nov., and Arcola, 15th, 16th, and 17th Nov.; Alvinzi driven off. . Jan.—Fourth attempt to relieve Mantua; battles of Rivoli, 14th Jan., and Favorita, 16th Jan.; Alvinzi again driven off. . Feb. 2—Wurmser surrenders Mantua with eighteen thou- sand men. 472 AGE. DATE. 27. 28. 28. 28. 20. 30. 30. ie: 1797 1797. LIFE OF NAPOLEON EVENT. . March 10.—Napoleon commences his advance on the Arch- duke Charles; beats him at the Tagliamento, 16th March; 18th April, provisional treaty of Leoben with Austria. Oct. 17.—Treaty of Campo Fermio between France and Austria to replace that of Leoben; Venice partitioned, and itself now falls to Austria. 1798. Egyptian expedition. Napoleon sails from Toulon, 19th 1708. 1799. - 1799. - 1799. wel 7 OO, 1790. 1800. 1800. . I8or. . I8or. . 1801. . 1802. 2, 1802. May; takes Malta, roth June; lands near Alexandria, Ist July; Alexandria taken, 2d July; battle of the Pyramids, 21st July; Cairo entered, 23d July. Aug. I and 2.—Battle of the Nile. March 3.—Napoleon starts for Syria; 7th March, takes : Jaffa ; 18th March, invests St. Jean d’Acre; 16th April, battle of Mount Tabor; 22d May, siege of Acre raised; Napoleon reaches Cairo, 14th June. July 25.—Battle of Aboukir; Turks defeated. Aug. 22.—Napoleon sails from Egypt; lands at Fréjus, 6th Oct. Nov. 9 and 10 (18th and 19th Brumaire).—Napoleon seizes power. Dec. 25.—Napoleon, First Consul; Cambacérés, Second Consul; Lebrun, Third Consul. May and June—Marengo campaign. 14th June, battle of Marengo; armistice signed by Napoleon with Melas, 15th June. Dec. 24 (3d Nivése).—Attempt to assassinate Napoleon by infernal machine. Feb. 9.—Treaty of Lunéville between France and Germany. July 15.—Concordat with Rome. Oct. 1—Preliminaries of peace between France and Eng- land signed at London. Jan. 26.—Napoleon Vice-President of Italian Republic. March 27.—Treaty of Amiens. AGE. DATE. 32, RD: 33: 33: 34- 34-35. 34. 36. 36. 36. 36. BO: 37: 37. 37. 37: 38. 38. 39. 1802. 1802. 1803. 1803. 1804. 1804. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1805. 1806. 1806. 1806. 1807. 1807. 1807. 1808. 1808. CHRONOLOGY 473 EVENT. May 19.—Legion of Honor instituted; carried out 14th July, 1814. Aug. 4.—Napoleon First Consul for life. May.—War between France and England. March 5.—Civil Code (later Code Napoleon) decreed. March 21.—Duc d’Enghien shot at Vincennes. May 18—Napoleon, Emperor of the French people; crowned, 2d Dec. May 26.—Napoleon crowned king of Italy at Milan, with iron crown. Ulm campaign; 25th Sept., Napoleon crosses the Rhine; 14th Oct., battle of Elchingen; 20th Oct., Mack sur- renders Ulm. Oct. 21.—Battle of Trafalgar. Dec. 2.—Russians and Austrians defeated at Austerlitz. Dec. 26.—Treaty of Presburg. July 1.—Confederation of the Rhine formed; Napoleon protector. Jena campaign with Prussia. Battles of Jena and of Auerstadt, 14th Oct.; Berlin occupied, 27th Oct. Nov. 21.—Berlin decrees issued. Feb. 8.—Battle of Eylau with Russians, indecisive; 14th June, battle of Friedland, decisive. July 8 and 9.—Treaty of Tilsit signed. Oct. 27—Secret treaty of Fontainebleau between France and Spain for the partition of Portugal. March.—French gradually occupy Spain; Joseph Bonaparte transferred from Naples to Spain; replaced at Naples by Murat. Sept. 27 to Oct. 14.—Conferences at Erfurt between Na- poleon, Alexander and German sovereigns. 474 AGE. DATE. 39. 39. 40. 40. 40. 4I. AI. 43-43. 43. 43. 43-44. 1808. 1809. 1800. 1809. 1810. I8Io. I81I. LIFE OF NAPOLEON EVENT. Nov. and Dec.—Napoleon beats the Spanish armies; enters Madrid; marches against Moore, but suddenly re- turns to France in January, 1809, to prepare for Aus- trian campaign. Campaign of Wagram. Austrians advance, roth April; Napoleon occupies Vienna, 13th May; beaten back at Essling, 22d May; finally crosses Danube, 4th July, and defeats Austrians at Wagram, 6th July. Oct. 14.—Treaty of Schonbrunn or of Vienna. Dec.—Josephine divorced. April 1 and 2.—Marriage of Napoleon, aged 40, with Marie Louise, aged 18 years 3 months. Dec.—Hanseatic towns and all northern coast of Ger- many annexed to French Empire. March 20.—The King of Rome, son of Napoleon, born. 1812—War with Russia; June 24, Napoleon crosses the Niemen; 1812. 1812. 7th Sept., battle of Moskwa or Borodino; Napoleon enters Moscow, 15th Sept.; commences his retreat, 19th Oct. Oct. 22-23.—Conspiracy of General Malet at Paris. Nov. 26-28.—Passage of the Beresina; 5th Dec., Napoleon leaves his army; arrives at Paris, 18th Dec. 1813. Leipsic campaign. 2d May, Napoleon defeats Russians and Prussians at Lutzen; and again, on 2oth-21st May, at Bautzen; 26th June, interview of Napoleon and Metter- nich at Dresden; toth Aug., midnight, Austria joins the allies; 26th-27th Aug., Napoleon defeats allies at Dresden, but Vandamme is routed at Kulm on 30th Aug., and on 16th-19th Oct., Napoleon is beaten at Leipsic. 44. 1814. Allies advance into France; 29th Jan., battle of Brienne; Ist Feb., battle of La Rothiére. 44. 1814. Feb. 5 to March 18.—Conferences of Chatillon (sur Seine). 44. 1814. Feb. 11.—Battle of Montmirail; 14th Feb., of Vauchamps; 18th Feb., of Montereau. CHRONOLOGY 475 AGE. DATE. EVENT. 44. 1814. March 7.—Battle of Craon; oth-1oth March, Laon; 2oth March, Arcis sur |’ Aube. 44. 1814. March 21.—Napoleon commences his march to throw him- self on the communications of the allies; 25th March, allies commence their march on Paris; battle of La Fére Champenoise, Marmont and Mortier beaten; 28th March, Napoleon turns back at St. Dizier to follow allies; 29th March, empress and court leave Paris. 44. 1814. March 30.—Paris capitulates; allied sovereigns enter on 1st April. 44. 1814. April 2——Senate declares the deposition of Napoleon, who abdicates, conditionally, on 4th April. in favor of his son, and unconditionally on 6th April; Marmont’s corps marches into the enemy’s lines on 5th April; on 11th April, Napoleon signs the treaty giving him Elba for life; 20th April, Napoleon takes leave of the Guard at Fontainebleau; 3d May, Louis XVIII. enters Paris; 4th May, Napoleon lands in Elba. 45. 1814. Oct. 3.—Congress of Vienna meets for settlement of Europe; actually opens 3d Nov. 45. 1815. Feb. 26.—Napoleon quits Elba; lands near Cannes, Ist March; 19th March, Louis XVIII. leaves Paris; 20th March, Napoleon enters Paris. 45. 1815. June 16.—Battle of Ligny and Quatre Bras; 18th June, bat- tle of Waterloo. 45-46. 1815. June 29.—Napoleon leaves Malmaison for Rochefort; sur- renders to English, 15th July; sails for St. Helena, &th Aug. ; arrives at St. Helena, 15th Oct. bees t 1821. May 5.—Napoleon dies, 5.45 Pp. M.; buried, 8th May. 1821. May 5.—Napoleon dies, 5.45 Pp. M.; buried, 8th May. 1840. Oct. 15.—Body of Napoleon disentombed; embarked in the “ Belle Poule,”’ commanded by the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis Philippe, on 16th Oct.; placed in the Inva- lides, 15th Dec., 1840. INGO Sex A Abdication of Napoleon, 263. Aboukir Bay, 91, 93. Adige, 68, 71, 72. Alexander I., Emperor of Russia, LOOs8l 7552018 203,1235; Evivinzne7 ie 2: Amiens, treaty of, 103. Amiens, treaty of, broken, 103, 143. Anna Paulowna, 225. PNCCOlA MD LIC eR OIN 72,076: PATINGELOR Oe ere oae Winisten esto France, 195, 190. Army of Egypt, 91, EXTINy Oimitaly, 01,02) eT. Art acquisitions from Italy, 82, 83. Aspern, 215. Augereau, 62, 63, 250. Austerlitz, battle of, 167; 168, 160. Austria, Emperor of, 17. Austrian army, 67, 68, 69. Austrian army, driven from Italy, 73: Austrians, 64-66. Austrians at Rivoli, 73. ENULi el Owl oT. B Bacciochi, Mme., 89. Baden, Grand Duchess of, 407. Baden, Prince Auguste of, 380. Bank of France, 107. Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle Battle of Austerlitz, 167, 168, 160. of Bautzen, 253. of Borodino, 242. GtyLylaier7s: of Friedland (173, 175. of Hohenlinden, 103. Cin) Cama Zio Olja Kavoritae73: OfsLOdigOn. 66: of Lutzen, 253. of Marengo, 98, 99, Io1. of Pyramids, 9o. Sie RiVOLy 74: Battle of Wagram, 216, 217, 210. Battle of Waterloo, 273. Bautzen, battle of, 253. Bay of Aboukir, see Aboukir Bay. Baylen, 198. Beauharnais, Alexander de, 328, LR RO) SENG REO. Geis cxleh 337, 338. Beauharnais, 170) 210m 2220, 6832 00) 341, 342, 378, 390, 415, 418, 421, 422, 437, 449. Beauharnais, Hortense de, 80, SREP RVG SEG EYER WEE syle 401, 407, 408, 409, 415, 417, 433, 449-450. Beaulieu, 63, 65, 75. ‘“ Belle Poule,”’ 303, 305, 307, 308. ‘“ Bellerophon,” 279, 283. Eugene de, 8&9, 94, 340, 419, Zee 390, 431, Barras, Paul, 47, 48, 53. 54-55, 340, | Benningsen, 173. 341, 342, 344, 345. Bassano, 00.671; Berlin decree, 193, 195, 233. Bernadotte, 47, 171, 233, 235, 255. 477 478 Bernard, Postmaster-general, 135. Berthier, Gen., 99, 187. Bertrand, 300, 318, 320. Bonaparte, Caroline, 31, 179. Bonaparte, Charles Marie de, 17, TO, MO 2l esa ls Bonaparte, Eliza, 31, 179, 287. Bonaparte, Jerome, 31, 35, 37, 153; 1545, 170 Blolsslo3e3 20) Bonaparte, )) Osephy 10, 21seoly 632, 80,0179, 19759105,0302,93 20. Bonaparte, Vous. 31.9153.0070. Bonaparte, Lucien, 31, 43, 89, 148, TAO wi5AeecO I Bonaparte, Mme., 43. Bonaparte, Mme. Louis, 373, 374. Bonaparte, Pauline; 31, 179; 195; 391, 392. Borghese, Princess, 179. Borodino, Battle of, 243. Botanical garden at Malmaison, 320092072 Boulogne, fete of, 155, 156. Bourbons of Spain, abdicate, 198. Bourrienne, 25, 37-38, 222. Boyer, Christine, 43, 89. Brenta, 60, 71. Bridge of Lodi, 66. Birrennew? aoe 6236257 acon T Broglie, Duc de, Marshal, 35. Brunswick, 172. G ““Gabinetsnoit.. 135: Cabrera, Island of, 108. Cadizmlrench fleet aia10c: Cadoudal, Georges, 143, 151, 152. Cambacéres, 153. Campan, Mme., 154, 340, 372, 373. Campo Formio, treaty of, 74. Carmes, les, 337, 338, 340. Castiglione, 68. Catholic Church re-established, 120, {21,1 23a oA. ) INDEX Chardon, Abbé, 21. Charles, Archduke of Austria, 213, B17 Gharles 1V. King of Spain, 107 ‘“Chemin d’ Angleterre,’ 145. Cherbourg, 308. Cisalpine Republic, 74, 08. Clary, Désirée, 45-46. Clary, Julie, 44. “Code Napoleon,” 125 127, 128. Colombier, Mlle., 20. Colombier, Mme., 20. / Concordat Ssicneds 12112, Conscription, resentment against, 231. Constituent Assembly, 334. “ Continental blockade,” 193, 195. Coronation of Josephine, 381, 382- 385. Coronation of Napoleon, 156, 157, 159, 160. COrsicae2 eect Corsicans, revolt of, 18. Courbevoie, 300. Croissv..54) 559320: D DantzicysiemesOle1 730.817 72 Danube, crossing of by atin yee Lome We Davoustet 7. Lat d’Abrantes, Duchess, 45. d’Enghien, Duc, 151, 152. d’Orleans, Duc, 28-29. De Keéralio, 25, 20. De Molleville, 128. de Ségur, 156, 199, 200. Decree of Berlin, see Berlin decree. Decrés, Gen., 62. Denmark, 195. Denon, 138. Desaix, 90, I0T. “ Description de l’Egypte,” 91. ‘“ Directory,” in regard to Italian campaign, 69, 72. French INDEX 479 eDirectory, 77: Donauworth, 213. Duc d’Enghien, Duc. Duroc, Marshall, 253, 320. see d’Enghien, E Ecole militaire, 27, 28. 18th Brumaire, 94, 103. il bame05. Elysée Palace, 423. “ Emigrés,” I19, 120. Essling, 215. Eylau, battle of, 173. F Ferdinand, heir apparent of Spain, | 197. Finland, 203. Fontainebleau, 379, 381. Boriehoyale, 327. Pouches 13¢4.026l,6275, 401,402. French army, in Italy, 60. Friedland, battle of, 173, 175. Fulton, Robert, 145, 147. G Gaétée, Duc de, 107. “ Garde-Meuble,”’ 203. Gaudin, Mon., 107. Geoffroy-St.-Hilaire, 91. Girondins, 3306. Goethe, 203. psGGtandeatmy, § 23750230, 247. Great Britain, decree against, 193, 195. , H Hesse-Cassel, 177. Hippolyte, Charles, 94, 354. Hoche, Gen., 337, 340. Hohenlinden, Lattle of, 103. Holland, King of, 179, 183, 233. Hotel des Invalides, 311, 313, 315, iva Toes 0.9 20: I Institute of Egypt, gt. Island of Cabrera, see Cabrera, Is- land of. Italian campaign, 61. J Jena, battle of, 171, 172. John, Archduke, 216. Joinville, Prince de, 295, 303, 306, 307.309 Gl 3a ai7. Glo: Jomini, 256. Josephine, Vicomtesse de Beauhar- nais, 54-55, 57. Josephine, notre dame des victoires, 85. Josephine, in Italy, 86, 87. Josephine, Empress, 159, 160. Josephine edivorced, 221222, 223: Josephine, at Malmaison, 225. Josephine, at Evreux, 228. Josephine, childhood, 326, 327. Josephine, at school, 327. Josephine, goes to France with her father, 330. Josephine, married Alexander Beauharnais, 331. Josephine, divorced from Alexan- der de Beauharnais, 332. Josephine, in Paris, 334-336. Josephine, imprisoned in les Carmes, B37 330! Josephine, at functions given by Directory, 340. Josephine, meets Napoleon, 342. Josephine, courted by Napoleon, 343- Josephine, feelings towards Napo- leon, 343-345. Josephine, married to Napoleon, 345. Josephine, goes to Italy, 347-349. Josephine, at Milan, 347-349, 351- 352. de 480 Josephine, Napoleon’s letters to, 348, 349. Josephine, returns to Paris from Italy; 353. Josephine, attitude towards the Bonapartes, 354-355. Josephine, buys Malmaison, 355. Josephine, letter to Napoleon, 356- 358. : Josephine, as wife of First Con- sul, 361-363, 365. Josephine, her appearance, 363. Josephine, fondness for flowers and dogs, 366, 367. Josephine, at St. Cloud, 375, 376. 362, Josephine, proclaimed Empress, 377: Josephine, religious marriage to Napoleon, 381. Josephine, journey through Italy as Empress, 388, 389. Josephine, graciousness to others, 392, 393. Josephine, fondness for her toilet, 395-397. Josephine, her jewels, 397, 308. Josephine, crowned Empress, 381- 385. Josephine, hears rumors of divorce, 401, 406, 414. Josephine, at Bayonne, 404, 405. Josephine, at Plombieres, 409, 411. Josephine, told of the divorce, 417, A418. Josephine, officially divorced, 419- 422. Josephine, retires to Malmaison after divorce, 422-420. Josephine, at Navarre, 427, 428. Josephine, at Malmaison, 430. Josephine, fondness for her grand- children, 437. Josephine, position in France, 440. INDEX Josephine, learns of Napoleon’s ab- dication, 446. Josephine, and the Emperor Alex- ander, 446, 447. Josephine, dies at Malmaison, 448, 449. Jouberthon, Mme., 154. Junot, 41, 42, 45, 61, 196, 198, 347. K Kellermann, 77. “ King of Rome,” 227, 228, 235, 261, 266, 435. Konigsberg, 173. L La Favorita, battle of, 73. Landgrafenberg, 171. Eanneés; 155,.207,.215. Teas Cases, 12632855403) ~ La Vendée,” 05. Les Brun, 153: Leclerc, Mme., 80. Lefebvre, Marshall, 173. euecionsot toner. | 125) “ Legitimists,” 302. Leipsic, 256. Ligny, 273. se letttlen@orporal mare: Lobau, Island of, 213, 215, 216. Lodi, 65, 66. Lodi, bridge of, 78, 83. Lombard Republic, 66. Lonato, 68. Longwood, 285-287. Tousen Cle e260: Louis Philippe, 295, 300, 302, 318. Louise, Queen of Prussia, 177. Louisiana, sale of, 147, 148. Lowe, Sir Hudson, 285-287. Lyons, 260. Lucques, Princess of, 179. Lunéville, treaty of, 103. Litzen, battle of, 253. INDEX M “Madame Mere,” Magdeburg, 177. Maintenon, Mme. de, 27. Malet conspiracy, 248. Malmaison, 223, 225, 275, 355, 305- 307, 369-370, 374-375, 411, 422- 426, 428, 449-450. Mantua, siege of, 66-69, 71, 73. Marboeuf, Count de, 19, 23, 20. Marbot, 205. Marengo, battle of, 98-99, 101. Marie Louise, 17, 37, 225, 227-228, 266, 271, 280. Marmont, 62, 263. Marrac, castle of, 404, 405. Martinique, Island of, 325, 3206. Masson, 338. Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Prince of, 403. Melas, Gen., 97, 98. Meneval, 222, 223. Metternich, 253, 255. Mincio, 66. Minim Brothers, 22. Mion-Desplaces, Mlle., 31. Moldavia, 203. Moncey, Marshal, 317. Monge, 91. Mont Cenis, 160. Montenotte, 63. Montesson, Mme. de, 28-29. Montholon, 287. Montmorency, Mme. de, 200. Moreau, Gen., 95, 151-152, 255, 250. Moscow, 243, 245. Muiron, Col., 78. NMittattO 721251250. Murat, Mme., 377. Museum of Paris, 81. N Naples, King of, 179, 181, 258. Napoleon, as a youth, 18, 19. 18, 153, 266. ——— ee SE EEE Se ee ee eee ee See eS 481 Napoleon, at school, 21, 22, 23, 25, 20. Napoleon, First Consul, 29. Napoleon, second lieutenant at Val- ence, 28-29. Napoleon, literary projects, 33, 34. Napoleon, in regard to finances, 35, 37: Napoleon, in Paris, 38, 30. Napoleon, command, Second Regi- ment of Artillery, 41. Napoleon, prisoner, 1794, 44. Napoleon, Committee of Public Safety, 48. Napoleon, General in chief of army of interior. 40. 51. Napoleon, defends the Tuileries, 48, 49. Napoleon, in salon of Barras and Mme. Tallien, 54. Napoleon, courtship and marriage, 57, 58. Napoleon, love letters, 58, 59. Napoleon, General, army of Italy, 61-63. Napoleon, speech to his 64. Napoleon, at Bridge of Lodi, 65, 66. Napoleon, enters Milan, 66. Napoleon, concludes peace with Na- ples, 67. Napoleon, at Lonato, 68. Napoleon, defeats Wurmser, 69. Napoleon, letter to Directory, 60, pe Napoleon, Rivoli, 73. Napoleon, signs with Pope treaty of Tolentino, 73. Napoleon, signs treaty of Campo Formio, 74. Napoleon, rules of warfare, 75. Napoleon, fertility in stratagem, 75, 77° soldiers, 482 Napoleon, answer to Directory, 77. Napoleon, soldiers’ adoration of, 77, 78. Napoleon, addresses to soldiers, 79, SI. Napoleon, belief in signs, 83. Napoleon, letters to Josephine, 85, 86, 87. Napoleon, returns to Paris from Italy, 80. Napoleon, commander in army of Egypt, go. Napoleon, in Egypt, 90, 91, 93. Napoleon, failure of Syrian expe- dition, 93. Napoleon, returns to Paris from Egypt, 93, 94. Napoleon, Dictator of France, 94. Napoleon, crossing the Alps, 97. Napoleon, addresses his soldiers, 08. Napoleon, at Marengo, 08. Napoleon, First Consul, 105, 106, 107. Napoleon, in regard to taxes, 108, 109, II0. Napoleon, his policy of protection, TIO. e011. chief, Napoleon, improvements made _ in Pariser: Napoleon, his vast industrial achievements, II3-115, II7. Napoleon, his amnesty to the Emi- grés, I19, 120. Napoleon, reéstablishes the Cath- olica Church ine ihrance, <120ud2aT: Foo a 2A Napoleon, establishes school, 125. Napoleon, codification of the laws, {2b h1 27a 2o Napoleon, preparations for against England, 144, 145. Napoleon, sells Louisiana, 147, 148. 124, War INDEX Napoleon, First Consul, plot against his life, 151. Napoleon, Emperor, 153. Napoleon, Emperor, in matters of etiquette, 155. Napoleon, Emperor, crowned at Notre Dame, 156, 157, 159, 160. Napoleon, addresses to his soldiers, 165. Napoleon, King of Italy, 160. Napoleon, marches against the Aus- trians and Russians, 164, 165, 167. Napoleon, at Austerlitz, 167, 168 169. Napoleon, at Jena, 171. Napoleon, Museum of Paris, 172. Napoleon, at battle of Jena, 172. Napoleon, at battle of Eylau, 173. Napoleon, at battle of Friedland. L73ih/ 5: Napoleon, at Tilsit, 175. Napoleon, treaty of Tilsit, 177, 178. Napoleon, advice to his brothers, LO Ole Loo Napoleon, hatred against England, IOI. Napoleon, policy Britain, 103. 105. Napoleon, attitude towards Spain, 197, 108. Napoleon, founds a new _ nobility, 200. Napoleon, tries to reconcile Lucien, 201. Napoleon, meets Alexander I. at Pricurt.co> Napoleon, Spanish campaign, 205, 20031207, 7200, Napoleon, charge against Talley- Fand-22 12: Napoleon, at battle of Wagram, DIO 21 e210: Napoleon, divorces Josephine, 221, PpGh, CRY towards Great INDEX Napoleon, marries Marie Louise (by proxy), 225. Napoleon, imprisons the Pope, 229. Napoleon, preparing for Russian campaign, 237. Napoleon, at Moscow, 243. Napoleon, retreat from Moscow, 243, 245, 247. Napoleon, campaign of 1813, 253, 255, 256, 257. Napoleon, campaign of 1814, 258, 261, 262. Napoleon, encamped at Fontaine- bleau, 262. Napoleon, abdication at Fontaine- bleau, 263. Napoleon, at Elba, 265, 266, 267. Napoleon, returns from Eiba, 267, 200, 271. Napoleon, his happiest period, 271. Napoleon, at Waterloo, 273, 275. Napoleon, abdicates anew, 275. Napoleon, plan to escape to United States, 275, 270, 277. Napoleon, gives himself up English, 279. Napoleon, at St. Helena, 283, 285, 286, 287. Napoleon, dies at St. Helena, 287, 280. Napoleon, loved by his men, 293. Napoleon, body brought back to France, 305, 306, 307, 308, 309, ate ole. Napoleon, funeral 315, 317, 318. Napoleon, Charles, 374, 376, 377, 401. Napoleon, Louis, 401, 433. National Assembly, 34. “Nautilus,” Fulton's diving boat, 147. Navarre, 423, 427, 428, 433, 435, 445. to Ife batiss 32. 483 Nelson, Lord, 91. Newspaper criticisms on Napo- leon’s return from Elba, 260. Ney, Marshal, 269. ‘ Northumberland,” 283. Notre Dame, 379. Notre dame des victoires, 85, 347. O O’Conneil, 299, 300. Olmititz, 166, 167. O’Meara, 285. gO Dera* plot slaa koa “ Orleanists,”’ 302. Orleans, Duke of, see d’Orleans, Duc. iy Paisiello, 141. Palmerston, Lord, 299, 300. Panthemont, Abbey de, 333, 340. Paolip Paseal, 18, 10, 22. bapale states, .O7073: Paris capitulates, 261. Patterson, Miss Elizabeth, 154. Permon, Mme., 53. Permons, 27, 28, 5I. Pichegru, I51, 152. Pius VII. a prisoner, 229. Placentia, 65. Plombiéres, 353, 400, 411. Plot of the 3rd Nivose, 133, 134. Plymouth, 270. Po, crossing of the, 65. Polander720173: Ponte-Corvo, Prince of, 235. Pontécoulant, Monsieur de, 51. Portugal, 195, 108. Portugal divided, 196. Portugal forced to close ports, 196: Presburg, treaty of, 160. Press censorship, 135. Provera] 2073. Prussia, King of, 175. | Pyramids, battle of, go. 484 Q Quasdanovich, 67-68. i Jttatte btas, 275: R Rambouillet, 403. Ramolino, Laetitia, 17, 18. Ratisbonne, 213. Raynal, Abbe, 33. Rémusat, Count de, 303. Rémusat, Mme. de, 154, 155, 362, 302, 424. Renaudin, Mon., 328. Renaudin, Mme., 328, 320, 330, 331, 333. Reuil, 449. Revolution of 1789, 34. R voli, battle of, 73. Robespierre, the elder, 43-44. Robespierre, the younger, 43, 339. Rochefoucauld, Duc de la, 329, 334- Rouen, 308. Russia, Emperor of, 201, 203. S anle, 171. St Cloudm2226a74 6275) Sig Gynt Saint-Germain, Comte de, 35. St. Helena, 283, 285, 286. St. Pierre, town of, 325. Salonwe13c: Saragossa, siege of, 206, 207, 200. Sardinians, sue for peace, 64. Sannois, Mlle. Rose-Claire des Ver- gers de, 3206. Savona, 220. DAxOny: sKinorOte 1 77, Schonbrunn, Castle of, 216. School of Fine Arts, 28. Second revolution, 37-38. Segur, Mon. de, see de Mon. Segur, INDEX | Serbelloni, Duc de, 348, 349, 351. Sieyés, Abbé, 105, 106. Smolensk, 241, 243, 247. Soult, 168. Spain, Government of, 197, 108. Spain, King of, 196, 198, 257. Spanish campaign, 205, 206, 207, 200. Staél, Mme. de, 135, 137, 431. Sweden, 233. Syrian expedition, 93. ir Tagliamento, crossed, 74. Talleyrand, 211, 212, 262, 275, 301 399, 40T. “‘Tallien, Mme., 54, 55, 338, 339, 340, 342, 347, 358. Talma, 360. Tascher de la Pagerie, Joseph, 325, B20 eo a0! Théatre Francais, 203. Thiers, Mon., 300, 301. dalsity treaty 01,9175 177 61 70: Tolentino, treaty of, 73. Toulon, 41. Treaty of Amiens, 103. Treaty of Campo Formio, 74. Treaty of Lunéville, 103. Treaty of Presburg, 160. Treatysofelilsit.e1 75-177 e170 Treaty of Tolentino, 73. Trieste, 210. Lrois Llets,.325. 326, 327: Tuileries, 381. iB! Ulm, capitulati n of, 165. United States not allowed to re- main neutral, 196. ~ Unnatural alliance,’ 235. Vv Valence, 20. Verona, 71-73. INDEX 485 Volta, 138, 139. Wallachia, 203. Vienna, 213, 216. Warsaw, 177. Vimeiro, 108. Waterloo, battle of, 273. Visconti, Mme. de, 187. Westphalia, 177. Vittoria, 108. Westphalia, King of, 179. Wieland, 203. ive Wilder, S. V. S., 276. Wagram, Austrians’ position, 216. | William, Prince of Prussia, 203. Wagram, battle of, 216, 217, 219. Wurmeser, Gen., 67, 68, 69, 72. Walewski, Mme., 401, 403, 404,| Wurmser surrenders, 73. 412. FINIS 9 a , co) Ay a) ‘ha a Ono Bd ade ; iby fete NA fe yar? Fy