UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
kT.P
v-5- -*^
/liy3. a species of water-melon, furnishing a wholesome and re-
freshing food. They met with them continually, as far as Cairo;
and the soldier, to show how agreeable this fruit was to him.
named it. like the ancient Egyptians, the Tiohj lattcch. On the
following day. the army began its march very late; some meat
had been procured, which it was necessary to distribute with care
as it was a great luxury. The flotilla still waited for the north-
wind to ascend the Nile. The army slept at Kounscheric ; ami
arrived the next day at Alkam, where General Zayonscheck re-
ceived orders to land on the opposite bank, and advance to the
point of the Delta. As there were no Arabs here, he could make
what movement- he pleased, and was of great assistance in pro-
curing -provisions.
< hi the 17th ami ISth the army encamped at Abon-Xeshabe
and at Warden, at whirl) last place the bivouacks were formed in
1
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
a large forest of palm-trees. The soldiers began by degrees to
understand the customs of the country, and to dig up the lentils
and other pulse which the peasants are accustomed to bury in
the earth. The troops made short marches on account of the
difficulty of obtaining provisions, and in order to be always in a
condition to receive the enemy. They often took up a position
by ten o'clock in the morning, and the first care of the soldier was
to bathe in the Nile. From Wardan they went to lie at Omedinar,
whence on the 19th they first perceived the Pyramids, which bor-
der the horizon of the valley on the left bank of the Nile. They
look like enormous masses of rock, but for the regularity of the
lines and angles. All the telescopes in the army, Napoleon ob-
serves, were instantly levelled at these the most ancient monu-
ments in the world. But why at once wish to bring them close
to the eye, to be familiar and in contact with them ? Would it
not be better to pause and linger on the gulph that separates us
from this obscure dream and mighty wonder of the world before
stripping it of its dim abstraction, and reducing it to a literal real-
ity '. One would think the mind would like to loiter and hang
suspended for a time between its visionary feeling, and its waking
thoughts and not break that mysterious spell at once. Wonder
and fear should hold curiosity back, and gaze at a distance as at
the giant phantom of the past. But no : the French think no ob-
ject sacred from vulgar or scientific impertinence, and they have
only two classes of ideas — words and sensible objects; the world
of imagination is lost upon them ! Buonaparte might have fore-
seen in this how they would one day turn round to look at him ;
pry into his foibles with their glasses, take his dimensions with
a quadrant, and fortune having broken down the barrier between
them, scan him with a critical eve. and wonder what it was they
had ever found in him greater than themselves!
The army was approaching Cairo; and were informed by the
country-people that the Mamelukes, combined with the troops of
that citv. and with a considerable number of Arabs. Janissaries,
and Spahis, were waiting for them between the Nile and the Pyra-
mids, covering Gizeh. They boasted that the French would
there find the end of their journey. The latter baited a day at
Omedinar. This pauae was necessary to get the army in readi-
EXPEDITION INTO EGYPT.
ness, and to prepare for battle. Melancholy and sadness began
to take possession of the troops, who constantly regretted the lux-
uries of Italy. In vain had they been assured that the country
was the most fertile in the world, and even superior to Lonibardy ;
how were they to be persuaded of this when they could get nei-
ther bread nor wine ? They often encamped in immense fields
of wheat; but there was neither mill nor oven to be found. It
would be difficult indeed to find a more fertile land, or a people
more miserable, ignorant, and brutalized. They preferred one
of the soldier's buttons to a crown-piece; in the country-places
they do not know the use of a pair of scissors. Their houses are
built of mud, the whole furniture being a straw-mat and two or
three earthen pots! All their magnificence is lavished on their
horses and arms. They eat or consume in general very little.
The little grain the natives convert into flour they bruise with
stones, although in some large villages there are mills which are
turned by oxen. The biscuit which the French had brought
from Alexandria had been long exhausted ; so that they lived
chiefly on pulse or parched wheat, or the cattle which they caught,
or sometimes by shooting pigeons.
The apprehensions and murmuring of the soldiers increased
daily; and rose to such a pitch that many of them said there
was no great city at Cairo ; and that the place bearing that name
was merely like Damauhour, a large assemblage of miserable
huts. To such a state of despondency had they reduced them-
selves by complaints and gloomy forebodings, that two dragoons
threw themselves in a lit of despair into the Nile, where they were
drowned. The officers even complained more loudly than the men,
as the change was proportionally disadvantageous to them. The
(Jeneral-in-Chief, in order to set an example, used to bivouac in
the midst of the army and in the most inconvenient spots. .No
one had either tent or provisions; the dinner of Napoleon and
his staff often consisted of a dish of lentils. The soldiers, to
while away the time, passed the evenings in political discussions,
questions, and complaints. For ichat purpose arc we come here?
said some of them ; the Directory Juice transported us. Cajfarelli,
said others, is the instrument that has been mad'- use of to dec ice
the General-in-Chief. Many of them, taking notice that where
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ever there were any vestiges of antiquity they were carefully
explored, vented their spleen in invectives against the savans or
scientific men. who, they said, had started the idea of the expe-
dition in order to make these idle researches. Jests were
showered upon them, even in their presence. The men called
an ass a savant; and said of Caffarelli Dufalga, alluding to his
wooden ley, lie laughs at all these troubles ; he has one foot in
France. Put Dufalga and the men of science not long after re-
gained the esteem of the army.
They set forward from Omcdinar on the 21st of July, at one
in the morning. At dawn, for the first time since the action of
Shebreis, a Mameluke vanguard of 1000 horse showed itself;
hut it retreated in good order, without attempting any thing. At
ten o'clock, Kmbaheh was descried with the enemy in line.
Iheir right was supported on the Nile, where they had con-
structed a large intrenched camp, lined with forty pieces of can-
non, and defended by 20,000 infantry, Janissaries, Spahis, and
militia from Cairo. The Mameluke cavalry rested its right on
this entrenched camp, and extended its left towards the Pyra-
mids, crossing the road to Crizeh. There was about 0000 or
10,000 horse, as nearly as could be guessed, and every horseman
was attended by one or two foot-soldiers. Two or three thousand
Arabs kept aloof to the extreme left, and occupied the space
between the Mamelukes and the Pyramids. These dispositions
were formidable. The troops did not know what sort of stand
the Janissaries and Spahis of Cairo would make; but they knew
and were impressed with a full sense of the skill and impetuous
bravery of the Mamelukes. The French army was drawn up in
the same order as at Shebreis, the left resting on the Nile, the right
on a large village, where General Desaix commanded, and whore
it took him three hours to form his position and rest a little. The
intrenched camp of the enemy was reconnoitred, and it was found
that it was merely sketched out, having been begun only three days
before, and might be of some service against a charge; of cavalry,
but not against an attack by infantry. It was also discovered by
the help of good telescopes, that their cannon were not upon field-
carriages, but were only great iron pieces, taken from the ves-
sels and served bv the crews of the flotilla. On this single oh-
BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS.
servation (casual as it seems) the fortune of the day turned. An
ordinary General would have taken it for granted that the artil-
lery lie saw was like any other artillery; but it is the true char-
acteristic and property of genius to take nothing fur granted, but,
being alivs to every possible change of circumstances, to look at
every thing as it is, and thus to be prepared to make continual
new discoveries and combinations. No sooner had the General-
in-Chief satisfied himself that the artillery was not moveable, than
it was clear that neither it nor the infantry could quit the in-
trenched camp ; or if the latter should come out, it must be with-
out artillery. The dispositions fin - the battle were made accord-
ingly ; Buonaparte giving immediate orders to prolong the right
and to follow the movement of that wing with the whole army,
thus passing out of the range of the guns of the intrenched camp,
and having only the Mamelukes and the cavalry to deal with.
Murad-Bey saw the columns put themsleves in motion, and
quickly guessed their purpose. Though not accustomed to this
kind of warfare, nature had endowed him with a quick and dis-
cerning eye, and undaunted courage, which sharpens the sight of
the mind by confronting it with the danger which it is not afraid
to meet. The slight affairs in which the French had hitherto
been engaged with the Mamelukes served him as experience,
and he comprehended with a degree of skill that could hardly
have been expected in the most consummate European General,
that every thing depended on preventing his adversary from
accomplishing the movement he had commenced. He advanced
with two-thirds of his cavalry (G000 or 7000.) leaving the rest
to support the intrenched camp; and came up at the head of his
troops with such rapidity that the French squares seemed falling
into confusion. General Desaix, on his march at the head of
his column, had entered a grove of palm-trees. However, the
h ad of the corps of Mamelukes, which fell upon him, was not
numerous, and as the mass did not arrive for some minutes, this
delay proved sufficient. The squares were thus perfectly
restored, and received the charge with coolness. Beynier sup-
p irted their left. Napoleon, who was in Dugua's square, imme-
diately marched on the main body of the Mamelukes, who were
received with grape and a brisk fire of musquetry ; thirty of the
10 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
bravest died near General Desaix, having reined their horses
hack on the enemy lo throw them into disorder; hut the mass, by
an instinct natural to the horse, turned round the squares, and by
this means frustrated the attack. In the midst of the fire of
grape and ball, of the dust, cries, and smoke, part of the Mame-
lukes regained the intrenched camp, according to the natural
impulse of the soldier to retreat to the spot from whence he set
out. Murad-Bey and the most expert directed their flight towards
Gizeh ; and thus this commander found himself separated from
his army. The divisions of Bon and Menou, which had formed
the left, then advanced on the intrenched camp ; and General
Rampon was detached with two battalions to occupy a kind of
di file between Gizeh and the camp, to prevent Murad-Bey from
returning to it, or the Egyptian soldiers from following him.
The greatest confusion prevailed at Embaheh. The cavalry
had thrown itself upon the infantry, which, seeing the .Mamelukes
beaten, rushed into tiie jerms, kaiks, and other boats to repass the
Nile. Many effected the passage by swimming, an exercise in
which the Egyptians excel. The forty pieces of cannon which
were to have defended the camp did not fire two hundred sh it.
The Mamelukes, quickly perceiving thai their retreat was in the
wrung direction, strove to regain the Gizeh road, but were driven
back by Ramp n's division, on tiie intrenched camp where many
of them tell, and many more were drowned in attempting tj pass
tiie Xile. Their floating bodies carried the m us of the victory
in a few days to Rosetta, Damietta. and all along the banks.
i\ it more than 2U0U horses escaped with Murad-Bev, who fnid-
iiiLT l/iat he was net joint d by the rest, turin d hack several
i j jpen a passage for them, hut it was t o late. The loss of the
enemy on this day was r< cloun d at 1U.0UU, including Mamelukes,
J missaries, Spahis, and slaves belonging to the Mam kilo s. Tiie
:. ns, and baggage, ail fi 1. into the p iwer
Fiench, with a thousand prisoners, and eight i
cam as and as many hors; s. I: was at the beginning of tiiis bat-
Lit. 1 that Xapoleoii addressed to tiie s ldiers that n )ble apostrophe
which afterwards was so often cited — •■From tin: top of tlw>>;
Pyramids forty centuries loot duica upon you !''
h was niulit when tiie thn t divisions of Uesaix, llevnier, and
BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. U
Dugua returned to Gizeh. The General-in-Chief fixed his head-
quarters there, in Murad-Bcy's country house. The Mamelukes
had sixty vessels on the Nile, conta ning all their riches. In
consequence of the unexpected result of the battle, they lost all
hopes of saving them, and set them on fire. During the whole
night, through the volumes of smoke and flame, the French could
perceive the forms of the minarets and buildings of Cairo and the
City of the Dead. These columns of flame gave so much light
that they could even see the Pyramids by it. The Arabs, ac
cording to their custom after a defeat, rallied far from the field of
battle, in the Desert beyond the Pyramids. For several days the
whole army was busily engaged in fishing for the bodies of the
Mamelukes that had been drowned ; their valuable arms, and the
quantity of gold they were accustomed to carry about them, ren-
dered the soldiers very zealous in this search. Three, four, or
five hundred Louis-d'ors were often found upon them. The
French flotilla had not been able to follow the movement of thp
army in time ; but they had heard the cannon, notwithstanding
the north-wind, which now blew with violence and carried the
pound from them. As it grew calmer, the noise of the cannon
became louder ; so that at last it appeared to have come nearer
them ; and the seamen in the evening gave the battle up for lost,
till the multitude of bodies which passed near their ships, and
which were all Mamelukes, restored their confidence. The
populace of Cairo, the vilest in the world, when they heard of the
disasters of their own people, set fire to the houses of the Beys,
and committed all sorts of excesses.
About nine in the evening Napoleon entered the country-house
of Murad-Bey at Gizeh. It did not at all answer to the idea of a
gentleman's country-scat in Europe. It was a point of some diffi-
culty at first to make it serve for a lodging, or to understand the
distribution of the apartments. But what chiefly struck the
officers with surprise was the great quantity of cushions and divans
covered with the finest damasks and Lyons silks, and ornamented
with gold fringe. For the first time they found the luxury and
arts of Europe in Egypt — the cradle of luxury and arts. Part
of the night was spent in exploring this singular mansion in every
direction. The gardens were full of magnificent trees, but with-
1* LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
out alleys, and not unlike the gardens in some of the nunneries
in Italy. What most delighted the soldiers (for every one crowded
to see the place) was the discovery of large arbors of vines
loaded with the finest grapes in the world. The vintage was
quickly over. The two divisions of Bon and Menou, that had re-
mained behind in the intrenched camp, were equally well off.
Amongst the baggage taken, had been found a great number of
canteens full of preserves, pots of confectionary, and sweetmeats.
Carpets, porcelain, vases of perfumes, and a multitude of little
elegancies used by the Mamelukes, every moment raised tho
curiosity or tempted the cupidity of the army, who now began to
be reconciled to Egypt, and to believe at last that Cairo was not
like Damanhour. It was only the cour.try-places that were poor
and oppressed ; in proportion to the general poverty and oppres-
sion of the people, the towns and habitations of those who op-
pressed them and drained them of every necessary or comfort,
were stored with every luxury and delicacy.
The next morning at day-break, Napoleon proceeded to the
river, and seizing some boats, made General Vial pass over to the
Isle of Rhoda, which was taken after a few musket-shots. There
was nothing farther to separate the army from Boulac and Old
Cairo but a large canal. The' flotilla was impatiently expected,
as the wind was fair; but it had run aground, owing to the low.
ness of the water. This gave the General-in-Chief some uneasi-
ness, as it was necessary to take Cairo in the first moment of the
enemy's stupor and surprise. It was lucky that the Janissaries
of Cairo, who had been engaged in the battle, had returned in the
greatest consternation and represented the French in a light ap-
proaching to the marvellous. A dragoman was sent to the Pacha
and Cadi-Scheik, with the proposals of the General-in-Chief and
his printed declaration that he did not make war upon the Turks,
but only on the Mamelukes. The Pacha had already left the
place, but his secretary came and had a conference with the
French General, who engaged him to persuade Ibrahim-Bey to
retire and the people of Cairo to submit. The following morning
it deputation of the Seheiks of Cairo came to Gizeh, and brought
word that Ibrahim-Bey h;id already left the city, and was gone
10 encamp at Birki fel-hadji ; that the Janissaries had wished tn
BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. 18
surrender; and that the Iman of the Grand Mosque of Jemilazai
had been charged to treat for a surrender and to implore the
clemency of the victor. The deputies remained several hours at
Gizch, where every thing was done to conciliate them. The
next day General Dupuy went to Cairo and took possession of the
citadel. The troops passed the canal and occupied Old Cairo and
Boulac. The General-in-Chief made his entrance into Cairo on
the 26th of July, at four o'clock in the afternoon. He went to
lodge in the Square of El-Bekir, at the house of Elphi-Bey,
whither he removed his head-quarters. This house was situated
at one of the extremities of the town, and the garden communi-
cated with the country.
Cairo is situated half a league from the Nile. Old Cairo and
Boulac are its ports. A canal which crosses the city is usually
dry, but fills during the inundation of the Nile, when the dyke is
cut. Cairo is commanded by a citadel placed on a hill, which
overlooks the whole city, and is separated from the Mokattam by
a valley. An aqueduct, which is a remarkable work, supplies
the citadel with water. The citadel also draws water from
Joseph's Well, but it is not so good as that of the Nile. This
fortress was neglected and falling to ruins, as well as the walls,
which were built by the Arabs and surmounted by enormous
towers. The Mamelukes never repaired any thing. Half the
walls abut on the Desert, so that dry sands are met with on going
out by the Suez gate or those which are towards Arabia. Cairo
contains about 210,000 inhabitants. The streets are built very
high and narrow, in order to obtain shelter from the sun. The
Boys have very fine palaces in the Oriental style. The Okels
are great square buildings for merchandise, with large innei
courts, and with little shops of ten or twelve feet square on tin 1
outside or next the street, in which the merchant sits with samples
of his goods. Cairo contains a number of mosques, intended
chiefly for the accommodation of pilgrims, who sleep in them :
amongst these is Jemilazar, said to bo the largest mosque in the
East. In one quarter are a few European families, and some
convents for the Syrian Catholics. The town abounds in coffee-
houses, in which the inhabitants meet to take coffee, sherbet, and
opium, and confer on public affairs. Around the city, as well as
2
14 LIFh OF NAPOLEON
near Alcxanana, Rosetta, &c, are to be seen great mounds of
earth and ruins, which have a disagreeable effect, and are daily
increasing, because all the rubbish from the city is brought
thither. The French wished to remove this nuisance : but diffi
culties arose, as experience had convinced the people that it \va?
dangerous to throw this rubbish into the Nile, where it eitnef
stopped up the canals or was spread over the country by the flood.
Close to the city of Cairo, towards the Desert, is the City of the
Dead, which is larger than Cai.ro itself: it is here that every
family has its place of burial. A multitude of mosques, tombs,
minarets, and domes keep up the memory of distinguished per-
sons who have been buried here, and who have had them built
for this purpose. There are attendants to many of the tombs,
who keep lamps burning in them and show the interior to the
curious. Somehow there is a cadaverous air that in general
hovers over the East ; decay and desolation have piled up their
stateliest monuments there ; Death lurks close by Life ; and tli6y
treat the. living; bodies of men as no better than lifeless ca^case^'
THE RATTLE OF THE NILE. IS
CHAPTER XVIII
THE BATTLE OF THE A'lLE.
The celebrated battle of the Xile, or naval battle of Aboukir as
the French call it, took place on the 1st and 2d of August, 1798.
This cut the nerves of the expedition, and from that time it halted
and in the end fell to the ground. The English Government had
been completely deceived as to the project of the expedition to
Egypt. Nelson had not the smallest idea of the destination of the
French fleet ; nor was it till he had been repeatedly thrown out
in the pursuit, and had coursed up and down the Mediterranean
several times, like a hound at fault, that he at last got scent of
his prey.
After the action of Rahmanieh, the Arabs of Bahire intercepted
all communication between Alexandria and the French army ;
nor did they desist till the news of the battle of the Pyramids and
the taking of Cairo made them apprehensive of the resentment of
the French. It was not till the second day after his entrance into
Cairo (July 27) that Napoleon received for the first time dis-
patches from Alexandria with Admiral Brueys's correspondence
By these lie was extremely surprised to find that the squadron,
notwithstanding his urgent and precise order, was not vet in
safety ; that it was neither in the port of Alexandria nor on its
way to Corfu or Toulon, but waiting in Aboukir roads, exposed
to the attacks of an enemy of greater force. Instead of getting
under weigh the instant he had landed the artillery and army
stores, the Admiral wasted time (as if bound by a spell) in recti-
fying his line of moorings, supporting his left behind the little
Flo of Aboukir, where, thinking it unassailable, he placed his
worst ships, the Guerrier and Conquerant, and having a battery of
ten twelve-pounders constructed on it. Buonaparte, on learning
these particulars, dispatched his -aide-de-camp Julien / iuin the army
16 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to the Admiral to inform him of his great disapprobation, and to
warn him to set sail immediately, and either to get into Alexan-
dria or make for Corfu, lie reminded him that all nnv.il ordi-
nances forbad the receiving battle in an open road. The aide-de-
camp set out on the 27th at seven in the evening, and could not
have arrived before the 3d or 4th of August, that is, till aher the
battle had taken place ; but he had only reached Teramia, when
a party of Arabs surprised the jerm in which lie was. and this
spirited vouns man was massacred by them, while courageously
defending the dispatches of which he was the bearer, and of which
he knew the importance.
Admiral Uruevs remained inactive in the bad position he had
chosen. An English frigate, which had been detached twenty
days before by Nelson, of whom she was now in search, presented
herself before Alexandria and went to Aboukir to examine the
whole line of moorings, which she accomplished with impunity ;
not a ship, frigate, or brig was under sail. Yet tiie Admiral had
above thirty light ships with which he might have scoured the
sea : they were all at anchor. At any rate he should have kepi
a few of these in readiness to prevent any light English vessels
frnrn watching his motions, and to obtain the earliest intelligence
of their approach. On the 31st of July, Xeison sent forward twe
of his ships, which reconnoitred the French lino of moorings wit]].
out molestation. On the 1st of August, the English squadroi
came in sight towards three o'clock in the afternoon, with all sails
set. A fresh gale of wind was blowing. Admiral Brueys was
at dinner; part of the crews were on shore : the decks were not
cleared in a single ship. The Admiral immediately gave orders
to prepare f>r action, and dispatched an officer to Alexandria to
demand the seamen of the convoy. Shortly after, he made a sig-
nal t<> get under sail : hut the English squadron came up so rap-
idlv, that there was hardlv time to clear tin' decks, which was
done with extreme negligence. Even on board the Orient, the
Admiral's ship, some cabins which had been constructed on the
p i >p tor the accommodation of the officers of the army during the
passage, were not removed, but were left full of matrasses and
buckets of paint and tar. The Guerrier and the Conquerant
each cleared only one tier of guns for action ; the side that was
BATTLE OF fill NILE. 17
towards the land was encumbered wit? all that had been cleared
out from the opposite side ; so that. y/h £ . i the ships were turned,
that side could not fire. The English could hardly believe this
when they saw it, and sent to examine the reason of it. They
.saw the French flag wave, though not a gun was fired.
The men who had been spared from the different crews had
scarcely time enough to return on board. The French Admiral,
judging that the enemy would not be within gun-shot before six-
o'clock, supposed that lie would not attack until the following day,
more particularly as he only observed eleven seventy-four-gun
ships ; the two others had been sent forward to Alexandria, and
did not rejoin Nelson till eight in the evening. Brueys did not
bolieve the English Admiral would attack him the same day, and
with only eleven ships. Besides it is imagined he thought at first
of getting under weigh, but that lie deferred giving the order till
the sailors whom he was expecting from Aboukir should be em-
oarked. All this was wrong ; showed either little stomach for
the light, by which ho judged of others, or was waiting for an
idle concurrence of favorable circumstances, instead of making
the best use of those in his power. The cannonade now com-
menced ; and an English ship having struck on the Isle, this ac-
cident gave Brueys fresh confidence. The sailors from Alexan-
dria did not arrive till towards eight o'clock, and a great many
took advantage of the confusion and darkness to remain on shore.
The English Admiral's plan was to attack ship after ship, every
English ship anchoring astern, and placing herself athwart the
head of a French ship ; hut accident altered this original design.
The Culloden, intending to attack the Guerrier, and endeavoring
to pass between the loft of that ship and the Isle, struck. Had
the Isle been supplied witli a few pieces of cannon, this ship might
easily have been taken. • The Goliah which followed her,
manoeuvring to anchor athwart the head of the Guerrier, was
carried away by the wind and current, and did not anchor till she
had, passed and turned that ship. Perceiving then that the lar-
board tiers of the Conquerant did not fire, she placed herself along-
side of tha'. vessel, and soon disabled her. The Zealous, the
second English ship, followed the movemerf of the Goliah, and
anchoring alongside the Guerrier, which could rot return he:
2 *
18 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
fire, speedily dismasted her. 1 lie Orion, the third English ship
executed the same manoeuvre, but was it-tarded in her move
merit by the attack of a French frigate, and cast anchor between
.he Franklin and the Peuple Souverain. The Vanguard, thp
English Admiral's ship, cast anchor athwart the Spartiate, the
third French ship. The Defiance, the Belleropnon, the .Majestic,
and the -Minotaur followed the same movement, a'd engaged the
centre of the French line as far as the Tonnant, trie eighth ship.
The Fiench Admiral and his two seconds formed a line of tliiee
ships, having greatly the advantage in size and weight of metal
of tin jvm of the English. The fire was terrible: the Bellerophon
was disabled, dismasted, and compelled to strike. Several other
English ships were obliged to sheer off; and if at that moment
Admiral Vilieneuve, who commanded the right of the French
navy, had cut his cables and fallen on the English line with the
five ships under his command, it must have been in the greatest
danger of being destroyed. The Culloden had struck on the Be-
quieres bank, and the Leander was engaged in trying to bring her
off. The Alexander and Swiftsure, two other English ships, see-
ing that the enemy's right did not stir, and that their own cen-
tre was hard-pressed, made towards it. The Alexander took
the place of the Bellerophon, and tiie Swiftsure attacked the
Franklin. The Leander, which till then had been engag< 1 ii
righting the Culloden, perceiving the situation in which the centre
stood, hastened to -its relief. Victory was still far from being de
cided either wav. The Guerrier and C inquerant no longer fired,
but ihov v. .--■ th w rst ships the French had : and on the si Ij
if the English, the Cull len and Be were disabled, The
c-'iitr if the French line had., by the great superiority of its ^uns.
nee as: n d the ships pp is -d to it more damage- than it had its' It'
sustained. The English had onlv three seventy -fours against tw o
h y-tours and one hundred-and-twenty-gun ship. It was t - be
; !'■ sinned then that the fhv bein:_ r thus kept u all uijht, A li i
\ . ' neuve would at last _" t und r wav in the- m irnincr, and a
. ;i' re it turn to the affair must be < xn< cte i by the Fr.ee h fro;r
the atlacK of five _ • A ships, which as y t 1 ■ : . r fire! n ir
received a single cannon-shot. But at el veu 'ci ck the Orient
belonging to the French Admiral, took fire and blew uu. This
BATTLE OF THE NILE. 19
event decided the victory. The dreadful explosion of this ship
suspended the action for a quarter of an hour. At the end of that
period, the firing commenced again, and continued without any
aba'ement till diree o'clock in the morning, when it slackened on
both sides till between five and six. It then redoubled and became
as terrible as ever In a word, the battle was raging at noon,
nor was it over before two o'clock. Villeneuve then seemed, to
awaken from his trance, and to perceive that the fleet had been
lig'umg for twenty hours. He cut his cables and stood out to sea
with iivo of his ships, the Guillaume Tell* and Genereux, and
with "vo frigates ; his other three ships ran aground without fight-
ing. Such was the havoc made in this determined fight that,
twenb-four hours after the battle, the French flag was still dying
on board the Tonnant, and Nelson had no ship in a condition to
attack her. Not only the William Tell and Genereux were not
jursucd by any of the English ships, but in the shattered state
they were in, they were not sorry to see them make ofF. Admi-
ral Bnieys, though lie had received several wounds, would not
go uoivn to the cockpit ; he died on his quarter-deck, giving his
orders, a little before the Orient blew up. After that event,
\ illeneuve became commander and was the judge of his own
motions j what then becomes of the plea that he waited for or-
der? ? Admiral Villeneuve was understood to be a brave and
good seaman ; his remaining a quiet spectator of a battle which
lasted for twenty hours can therefore only be accounted for in one
of three ways; either from a sudden and invincible panic at the
moment; or from that over-anxiety about what was proper to be
done, which suspends all power of action ; or from that turn of
mind through which the slightest motives, a more form or a point
of etiquette, outweigh the most serious and important conse-
<] lences.
It is quite certain that an English Admiral would not have
remained neuter in this position, nor would the crews have let
him. not from a difference of tactics in the two navies, but from a
Inference of commoa sense. The English understanding, so to
speak, even from a certain slowness and hebetude, runs less into
* This and the Franklin are the names of French ships, and show at
'east the side their country affected.
20 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
fine distinctions and is less liable to be led away by a variety of
minor considerations, which it has not the art to magnify at pleas-
wre into matters of importance ; it sees and attends only to the
principal point, the one thing needful, and therefore, in cases of
critical emergency and urgent necessity, possesses a sounder
practical judgment than the French, which flutters about an ob-
ject, and is distracted by a multiplicity of shifting and insignificant
views of the same thing. For the same reason, the English are
as inferior to the French in diplomacy as they arc superior to
them in downright action • because there the essential business is
not to feel the real home truth, but to disguise it and draw olF at-
tention from it by fifty evasions and verbal excuses. The pre-
dominant feature of the English is a certain honesty or sincerity
of feeling which makes them dupes — but accompanied with a
steadiness of purpose and a proportion in their efforts to their
sense of the importance of the occasion, which does not allow
them to be willing ones. I have dwelt on this because I think it
affords a clue to the superiority of the English naval tactics. The
French are undoubtedly brave, but their bravery seems to be an
affair of impulse ; they do not stop to calculate consequences, but
yield to their national ardor and impetuosity, and rush at once on
danger and the foe. Had Villeneuve had to lead a battalion of
cavalry to the field. I have little doubt he would have been with-
held by no considerations of prudence or punctilio from obeying
the instinct of personal courage; and charging at their head,
have exp >sed himself in the thickest of the ranks with the great-
lantry and boldness. But in the other case, he had to ma-
neemre four or five unwieldy ships, to guide a complicated me-
chanical operation, to prevent their running ashore, to come up
to the point of action, and all his nautical calculations and pro-
cess of abstraction threw a damp upon his natural ardor and held
his judgment in suspense. Now the Englishman's head is < ssen-
tiallv mechanical and his will acts upon the decision of the under-
standing : — when a Frenchman, on the contrary has to act from
[oresight and combination, he forgets the end in the means, ana
is either rash and flighty or formal and pedantic. So much for
t.ie naval vjm.iumder. Again, with respect to those under his
command, the courage of the French is in attack, or in venturing
BATTLE OF THE NILE. 21
upon danger ; the courage of the sailor is wholly or chiefly in
defence, or in holding out against it. Except in the case of board-
ing a vessel, he cannot get at his enemy or intimidate him cither
by gallant bearing or by personal prowess; he merely mans his
own guns, and stands the lire of the enemy's battery with resolu-
tion and presence of mind, and certainly in this, which may be
called the passive part of courage, the English sailor bears the
bell alone. It is bred in his blood and in his bone. Stupid he
may be, brutal he may be, low and vulgar; but he endures pain
and wounds without flinching, and he will be sooner cut in pieces
than he will give in. A bullet whizzing by makes him recollect
himself; a splinter that stuns him brings him to his senses; the
smart of his wounds sharpens his courage, and all that damps and
startles others rivets him to his post. The British tar feels con-
scious of his existence in suffering and anguish, and woos dan-
ger as a bride. There is something in this .Saxon breed of men,
like the courage and resolution of the mastiff", that only cornea
out on such occasions. Coarse, dull, vicious, obstinate, bowed
down by ignorance and benumbing want, there is something in
his soul that struggles with his fate, and seeks to throw off' the
load that oppresses it, and stakes its all on one hour of heroic
daring or unshaken fortitude; and shut out from effeminate de-
lights, takes a pride in the extremity of pain, stands by his coun-
try, the only thing on which he values himself, to his latest breath,
and wipes out a life of shame and ignominy by a glorious end.
The wooden walls of Old England are nothing but this hard ob-
d unite character, that melts and expands in the heat of battle
as in a summer's-dav. that welcomes a cannon-ball as an even
match, feels the first flush of triumph with the last gush of life,
and is quits with the world by the shout of victory and death !
'flic difference then of the French and English navy depends on
the character of the two nations, and this will change when the
bull-dog changes natures with the greyhound. It has been said
that the great error of the French (in which they persist in spite
of experience ) is in firing at the rigging instead of the decks; but
this is only another example of what has been said before of being at-
tached to a theory or a whim, instead of minding the main chance.'*
* As I was crossing the channel nut long ago, there was a cry of A man
» LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Buonaparte labors hard, probably from jealousy of the English,
probably from professional prejudice, to show the inferiority of
the naval to the land-service. His reasoning is acute, but seems
like ex-purte evidence. Lord Nelson could probably have given
reasons in favor of the navy with equal plausibility. Such rea-
sonings are seldom satisfactory, when one can tell beforehand the
side the arguer will take. Buonaparte however assigns three
grounds of his determination on this point: 1st, the equality of the
surface at sea. and that you always see your enemy ; 2d, that
much more depends on the captains of the different ships and the
courage of the individual crews; 3d, the difficulty of provisioning
a large army by land, wdiereas the naval commander carries his
own stores, camp, and citadel with him. The two last may be
true; but with respect to the first the greater inequality and ac-
cidents of the ground by land, is not that balanced by the uncer-
tainty of the winds and waves at sea and the necessity of man-
aging these ? Out of the three great actions which Lord Nelson
fought, two were fought close on land, and he had to provide for
risks of running ashore, for passing over the bar of the harbor,
ami a number of other collateral circumstances. Buonaparte
says the naval commander requires but one science, that of navi-
gation which is certainly a thing of experience and routine ; and
brings as proof of the little genius that this species of warfare exacts,
that Alexander and Conde could not have fought battles at sea as
they did by land, when they were only two-and-twenty. But this
only seems to infer thru naval tactics require more knowledge and
science, not that they give less scope for genius and tact. People
mav be supposed to have a natural turn for war by land, because
it i.s natural to live on land and not at sea; so that these are the
overboard. The vessel was stopped in an instant. The boat which had
been just lashed to the riggi: jr. was only half disentangled, when three of the
sailors hung in it like swallows. It was no sootier let down than a fourcn
jumped into it: and they set off with the rapidity of lightning in pursuit of
the drowning man. eagerly seizins every hint and sign from the ship as to
the direction they were to take. They got up with him just in time and
brought him sale on board. Ten minutes after they were at their ordinary
work, looking as dull, awkward, and indifferent as possible, nor could you
tell from their demeanor that any thing extraordinary h id happened. I*, is
this lying by fur action that is the I'or.'t of the English character.
BATTLE OF THE NILE. »
first observations we make, the first language we leam. That
another science besides that of navigation is necessary to the
naval commander is evident from the conduct of the French
Admiral in this engagement, namely, common sense.
The crews of the three French ships which grounded at the
end of the engagement, and those of the two frigates, landed on
the beach at Aboukir. A hundred men escaped from the Orient,
and a great number of men from the other ships took refuge on
shore, availing themselves of the confusion and distress. Tho
army thus obtained 3500 recruits, out of which a nautical legion
was formed. The French had still several frigates and lighter
vessels in the port of Alexandria. A few days after the battle,
Nelson set sail and quitted the shores of Alexandria, leaving two
ships of war to blockade the port. lie was received in triumph
and with every mark of honor at Naples. The loss of the battle
of Aboukir in the end proved fatal to the expedition into Egypt:
fifot, by depriving the army of their battering train, the want
of which stopped them at St. Jean d'Acre, and secondly, by
giving the Divan courage to declare war against France. The
French General-in-chief was before this event sanguine with re.
spect to success, and sometimes talked jocularly of returning
home by way of Constantinople. — Buonaparte considers a fleet of
thirty sail of the line as equal to an army of 120,000 men, taking
one thing with another ; and he conceives that France might
maintain an establishment of three such fleets as well as three
armies of 120,000 men each.
Two letters written by him on this occasion deserve to be in
serted here, the one as showing his humanity, the other his na-
tional spirit, and both his indefatigable activity of mind.
Buonaparte's Letter to the Widow of Admiral Brueys.
"Cairo, 10th of August. 179S.
" Your husband has been killed by a cannon shot, while fight
ing on his deck. lie died without pain, and by the best death,
and that which is thought by soldiers most enviable.
" 1 am keenly sensible to your grief. The moment w!iich
severs us from the object we love is terrible : it insulates ui
24 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
from all the earth ; it inflicts on the body the agonies of death ;
the faculties of the soul are annihilated and its relation with the
universe subsists only through the medium of a horrible dream
which distorts every thing. Mankind appear colder and more
selfish than they really are. In this situation we feel that if
nothing obliged us to live, it would be much best to die : but
when after this first thought we press our children to our heart-,
tears and tender emotions revive the sentiments of our nature.
and we live for our children. Yes. madame, see in this xcrx mo-
ment how they open your heart to melancholy ; you will weep
with them, you will bring them up from infancy — you will talk
to them of their father, of your sorrow, of the loss which you and
the Republic have sustained. After having once more attached
your mind to the world by the ties of filial and maternal love,
set some value on the friendship and lively regard I shall always
feel for the wife of my friend. Believe that there are those who
deserve to be the hope of the afflicted, because they understand
the poignancy of mental sufferings."
From General Buonaparte to General Kb:Ler.
'•'Cairo, 10th of September, 1798.
"A ship like the Franklin. General, which had the Admiral
on board, the Orient having blown up. ought not to have surren-
dered at eleven o'clock. I think, moreover, that the officer who
surrendered this ship is extremely culpable, because it is proved
bv his own prrjces-verbal that he took no measures to wreck his
ship and render it impossible to bring it to; this will be an eter-
nal disgrace to the French navy. It is not necessary to know
much of manoeuvres or to possess extraordinary talents, to cut a
cable and run a ship aground; besides, these measures are
especially prescribed in the instructions and ordinances given to
captains in the navy. As for the conduct of Rear- Admiral
Duchaila. it would have become him to have died on his quarter-
deck, like Du Petit-Thouars.
" Rut what deprives him of every chance of restoration to my
esteem, is his base conduct among the English since lie has been
a prisoner. There are men who have no blood in their veins
BAT.TLE OF THE NILE. 2*
lie will hear tne English, then, drink to the disgrace of the French
navy, while they intoxicate themselves with punch. He is will-
ing to be landed at Naples, then, as a trophy for the Lazzaroni to
gaze at. ; it would have been much better for him to have re-
gained at Alexandria, or on board-ship, as a prisoner of war,
without ever wishing or asking for any favor. When O'Hara,
who nevertheless was a very common character, was made pris-
oner at Toulon, and was asked by me on the part of General
Uugommier, what he wished for, he answered, ' To be alone, and
10I to le indebted to pity.' Attentions and courtesy are honorable
only to the victor ; they do no credit to the vanquished, whom
reserve and haughtiness best become."
Buonaparte also at the same time addressed a short and affect-
ing letter to the father of Vice-Admiral Thevonard, who was
killed in the battle.
"6 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XIX.
SITUATION OF EGYPT.
A few days after his entrance into Cairo, Buonaparte ordered
Reynier's division to proceed to Elkhankah, where General Le-
clerc's cavalry where fighting with a multitude of Arabs and
peasants of the country, wnom Ibrahim-Bey had prevailed upon to
revolt. About fifty peasants and some Arabs were killed in these
skirmishes. The General-in-Chief followed with the divisions of
General Lannes and Dugua, and the troops proceeded by lony
marches on Syria, constantly driving Ibrahim-Bey and all the
forces he commanded before them.
On the road to Belbeis, they delivered part of the caravan of
Mecca, which the Arabs had carried off and were conveying into
the Desert, into which they had already advanced two leagues. It
was conducted to Cairo under a good escort. At Koureyn they
found another part oi~ the caravan, composed of merchants, who
had been first stopped by Ibrahim-Bey, and after being released by
him were plundered bv the Arabs. Tie- booty seized by them
must have been considerable ; one merchant alone having lost
goods to the amount of 200,000 crowns. This merchant had all
his women with him, according to the custom of the country.
The General-in-Chief ordered a supper for them, and procured
them camels tor their journey to Cairn. Several of the females
appeared to possess handsome figures ; but their faces were cov
er-'d, a custom to which the soldiers were not easily rec nciled.
Salahieh is the last inhabited place in Egypt where go id water is
to he found. The Desert dividing Syria from Egypt begins there.
Ibrahim-Bev, with his armv, treasure, and women, had just set
out from this place as the French entered it. Buonaparte pur-
sued him with the little cavalry he had. A party of 150 Arabs
"vno had been with the Bev, nlie red *o charge with the French and
SIT CATION OF EGYPT. 27
share the booty. Night was coming on; the horses were exces-
sively fatigued, the infantry at a good distance behind; under
all these disadvantages, however, the attack was made, which
the Mamelukes sustained with the greatest courage. The chief
of squadron D'Estree was mortally wounded. Almost every
staff-officer and every hussar was engaged in single combat.
Colonel Lasalle dropped his sabre in the midst of the charge ; he
was expert and fortunate enough to recover it, and remount in
time to defend himself against one of the most intrepid of the
Mamelukes. Murat, Dr oc, Letureq, Colbert, and Arrighi were
all engaged in the thickest of the battle, and were hurried by
their impetuosity into imminent danger. The French took two
pieces of cannon and fifty camels, loaded with tents and other
booty. Ibrahim-Bey, who was wounded in the action, pursued
his way across the Desert. Buonaparte left General Reynier's
division and the engineer officers at Salahieh to construct a fort ;
and set out on bis return to Cairo. lie had not gone above two
leagues from Salahieh, when he was met by General Kleber's
aide-de-camp bringing intelligence of the loss of the battle in
Aboukir roads. The messenger had been eleven days on his
journey ; and this was the first news Buonaparte received of that
event, which gave a severe blow to his hopes of success. However
he repaired to Cairo, where he remained for a considerable time,
endeavoring to make the most of the means that were left to him.
His activity appears to have been always the same, neither relaxed
bv good fortune nor discouraged by failure ; and indeed he seems
to have had no sort of objection to attempt the reconciling of con-
tradictions and tampering with hopeless materials, their very im-
practicability irritating his self-will and giving scope to his inge-
nuity and a number of expedients. To contrive and to will were
'.he first necessities of his soul ; to succeed, unless by extraordi-
nary and arduous means, was only the second.
A great deal of what he did (though probably all that he could
do in the actual circumstances) may be accounted for on this
principle of wilfulness and contradiction. There is no end of the
art and energy employed, and the only fault to he found is that
they arc thrown away upon oiuects on which they can produce
no corresponding effect, or resemble the inge: lous manccuvrt-s ot
28 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
a masterly chess-player to win a game that is irrecoverably lost.
He goes over the ground again, long alter the event, with the
same precaution and pertinacity as ever, showing that in spite of
appearances the whole might have succeeded in the end, if some
new disaster had not happened ; though where so many ifs con-
cur to the execution of a measure, they necessarily put a decided
negative upon its ultimate success. Thus he seems to have
written those studied letters to Achmet Pacha to persuade him he
did not come into his country as an enemy, for no other reason
than that these fine assurances would not be believed. He pro-
portioned his own subtlety and craftiness of address to the du-
plicity and hollowness of those with whom he had to deal, en-
countering the wily Arab, the selfish Turk at their own weapons,
and sure of being foiled. He sent a flag of truce to summon the
governor of a fort, and because his head was struck off. he sent
another, who was treated in the same barbarous manner. He
did wisely in attacking the Mamelukes, who were the military
power, and in paying court to the Scheiks, who were the civil
power; but whatever might be the differences or jealousies be-
tween the latter and the former, would they not join together mi
the first opportunity to expel and revenge themselves on their
Christian and European invaders, whom they regarded as dogs in
both these capacities ? "What faith could he have in the Arabs
as auxiliaries, whose very aspect is a dusky lie. and who would
make use of their temporary submission only to take a long and
lasting revenge? It would be no more possible to have any hold
on their fierce cunning than to tame the wind — to expect to reap
thanks or fidelity fir favors conferred would be sowing benefits in
the sand. No advantages held out to them or made good could
ever counterbalance the difference of color, dress, manners, re-
ligion, nature, and origin. To conquer them would require
either immense multitudes or a great length of time ; to subdue
them by art would require a new system of laws, of manners,
of religion, appealing still more strongly to their passions and
the infirmities of their nature than the old one, for nothing is a
match for long-established prejudice but fanaticism. Novelty
alone propagates opinions, as antiquity confirms them. Nothing
old can ever be revived] for if it had not been um-uited to the
SITUATION OF ECxYPT. 29
circumstances of the people, it would have been still in existence.
The Jewish religion rose and sustained itself b} T an effort and in
opposition to all its neighbors. The Christian religion had been
tried and was supplanted by Mahoinetanism. Its mild genius did
not accord with the fierceness of the East. The end and aim of
the Christian dispensation is good, that of the Oriental despotisms
is power. The spirit of Christianity is sympathy; that of the
East exclusive selfishness. The answer to the question " Who
is thy neighbor?" in the Gospel, is he whom you can serve — in
other codes it is he who can be of service to you.
When Buonaparte was enraged at a troop of Arabs who had
attacked a village in the neighborhood of Cairo, and murdered one
of the fellahs or peasants, a Scheik asked him with a smile,
" Was this fellah thy cousin, that his death should so affect thee?"
The good or evil, the right or wrong, the claims, the feelings, or
wishes of others are laid out of the question, and nothing is con-
sidered as valid, but the power to inflict mischief or its being in
.-■o'.ne way brought home to yourself. The heart has no place in
such a system, where the only object or understood principle is to
acquire power and property over others, and treat them according
to your will or caprice (as mere property) without considering
their welfare or sufferings, their life or death, as of the smallest
moment, and where you are regarded in the same light by others,
from the lowest to the highest link in the chain of authority.
Hence slavery prevails all over the East 5 but Christianity or
humanity alike repudiates this idea, which is that of a fellow-
creature who is placed on the level of a beast of burden or of an
inanimate machine. Hence polygamy, which is making a property
of the affections and rejecting an equal right in them. Hence a
difference in another particular, namely, that love with us implies
not only an object, but one that can return the attachment, and
where the pleasure is equal and mutual; there it seems to imply
an object, an appetite merely, but to exclude the idea of reciprocity,
or treat it with indifference. To this perversity also the condition
of slavery palpably contributes; for where a despotic power is
claimed, where nothing is left to the choice or inclination, the
gratification of another becomes a secondary consideration ; and
the conquest of the heart not being at all taken into the account,
30 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
the will creates itself a difficulty and an incentive by a triumph
over nature. Buonaparte, in alluding to the speedy decay and
degeneracy of the Mameluke races in Egypt, attributes it to a de-
pravity of manners ; and on reasoning upon this subject dues not
reason well. He speaks as if all the women in Egypt were old
and fat, and the French women alone were light, captivating, and
graceful. This is complimenting the French women at the ex-
pense of the sex. Besides, if Lady Wortley Montague speaks
truth, the women at Constantinople are as handsome as those of
Paris ; and Buonaparte himself gives an account of the wife of
Murad-Bey, a woman of fifty, as having all the grace, the bewitch-
ing tunc-, and the sweetness and elegance uf manners of the must
accomplished women in Europe. Nor is external beauty alone,
according to our ideas, the proper object of love. A statue of a
beautiful woman is an object of admiration, but not of love, be-
cause, though the pleasure of the eye may be the same, it is itself
devoid of feeling. The reasoning on polygamy is also ingenious,
but far-fetched. Buonaparte tries to account for the prevalence
of polygamy in the East from the difference of color in the inhab-
itants and the desire to overcome the antipathy arising from this
circumstance by amalgamating them all in the same family.
But there is no natural diversity of color in- Asia more than in
Europe or Africa. In Asia women are tawny, as in Euro] e
they are white, and in Africa jet-black. If these colors meet
more commonly in Asia than in Europe, it is from the practice of
sending women from other countries thither as to a mart; which
custom itself arises from the practice of polygamy or the purchase
and sale of beauty like any other commodity, and is not the cause
of it. Polygamy is common in Africa, where there is no mixture
of colors. It is the attendant not of a mixture of colors, but of
slavery. It is the fault of Buonaparte's reasoning, that he attri-
butes too much in human affairs to political and final causes,
and hardly enough to natural and mural ones.
These violent differences of character and customs, and. as it
might seem, even uf nature, were sufficient to prevent the French
from making a very strong mural impression on the inhabitants
uf Egypt ; and as tu physical force, they had not enough to keep
the population down with a strong hand. To retain possession of
SITUATION OF EGYPT. 31
Egypt considered merely as a factory or fort on the sea-coast, it
would be necessary to command the sea; considered as a king-
dom rich in independent resources, it has the back-ground of the
Desert, in whose pathless extent and arid sands an army would
be lost in attempting to baffle and scatter the barbarians of a
thousand cities, of a thousand wilds. The people were too much
inured to a different and uniform way of life, either to have occa-
sion for or to set much store by our refinements and comforts,
which were neither adapted to their situation nor habits. When
Napoleon one day asked the Scheik El-Mondi what was the most
useful thing he had taught him in the six months he had been
among them — ■' The most useful thing you have taught me," re-
plied the Scheik, half in jest and half in earnest, ' ; is to drink at
my meals ! " The Arabs had too little knowledge to be either
curious about objects of science or to take any interest in me-
chanical improvements. They looked upon the scientific men
meeting in parties or working in their laboratories, at first as priests
and afterwards as alchymists; nor could they understand the in-
terest the French appeared to take in the Pyramids, except by
supposing that those Europeans had some tradition of their having
been built by their remote ancestors. The only valuable result
of the expedition is the famous work on Egypt got up by these
learned men. and published at an immense expense during the
first fifteen years of this century. The benefits of science are too
remote, too evanescent, and too refined to strike a rude and sav-
age people who have most need of them. Again, the deference
paid by the General-in-Chief to the manners and customs of the
people, his joining in celebrating their feasts, and the respect he
expressed for their Prophet, were all well-judged, and excellently
adapted to conciliate the good-will of the natives, and prevent their
unavoidable repugnance from breaking out into open hostility;
but they were only temporary expedients and palliatives, which
required other resources and stronger measures in reserve. To
have overcome so many obstacles and given a popular impulse in
his favor, it was necessary to depart from the common course of
things and strike the ignorant with wonder and delight — he should
have opened the canal of Suez (as was talked of ), or by a new
mode of irrigation have doubled the fertility of the Nile and the
32 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
population of Egypt, or preached a new religion, or rebuilt Pal-
myra, or allowed the use of wine, or worked miracles, or seem to
work them; but all this would have required time, another age,
and faith and fortune led captive to accomplish it. The English
and Portuguese occupied only ports on the seacoast in India ; and
having the seas to themselves, had only the natives to contend
with, their power eating gradually into the interior like a cancer.
After the Portuguese found out the passage by the Cape of Good
Hope, the Venetians lost the commerce of the East, which they
had carried on by way of Egypt. Even supposing the French to
have established themselves in Egypt, does not this fact show
that the great traffic would still have been carried on by the old
road of the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean, or remained in the hands
of the great maritime powers ?
Egypt borders on the Nile, and occupies an extent of a hun-
dred and fifty leagues in length, from Elephautino to Cairo, and
five in breadth, after which the Nile divides into two branches,
and forms the Delta. The valley of the Nile is about equal in
surface to a sixth part of ancient France, but it is far more fer-
tile, and is like one continued garden, there being neither rock,
mountain, nor waste in it. It never rains in Egypt; the fertility
of the country depends entirely on the overflowing of the Nile,
which brings a kind of rich loam or slime with it from the moun-
tains of Abyssinia, where it takes its rise, and the year is more
or less abundant in proportion as it rises higher or lower. By
means of a canal to draw the waters of the Nile into the Croat
Oasis, a vast kingdom was acquired. The country is remarkably
healthy; the nights are cool; a burning sun never tempered by
clouds, scorches up the vapors arising from the low grounds and
marshes, and renders them innoxious. The population of Egypt
formerly, in the time of Scsostris and the Ptolemies, and after-
wards at the period when it was conquered by the Arabs in the
seventh century, was supposed to amount to fifteen or twenty mil-
lions. At present, it amounts to between two and three millions;
and in half a century will not amount, in all probability, to more
than a million and a half, if the present system of administration
continue,- so long. Vet it is said by some persons that the earth
is always as full as it can hold, and that government can have no
SITUATION OF EGYPT. 33
influence in this respect ! Egypt was anciently the great mart
and thoroughfare of the commerce of the East. This was car-
ried on by way of the Red Sea, and the goods of India were
thence transported to Thebes on the banks of the Nile, by the
canal of Suez, or conveyed on the backs of camels eighty leagues
across the Desert. Alexandria, built by Alexander the Great,
was the chief seat and emporium of all this wealth flowing in
from both worlds. It was the second city in the Roman empire.
It is the only convenient or safe harbor on a coast of fifteen hun-
dred miles, reaching from Tunis, the ancient Carthage, to Alex-
andretta in Syria. It is situated on one of the ancient mouths of
tliJ }\ ile ; but at present the dilapidation and neglect of the canals
of the Nile prevent its waters from reaching Alexandria, except
at 'he height of the inundation, when they are collected and pre-
served in large cisterns, which have a striking appearance. The
walls of Alexandria were formerly twelve miles round ; it con-
tained 4000 palaces, 4000 baths, 400 theatres, 12,000 shops, and
above 50,000 Jews. The Arabs lost 28.000 men in taking it (in
the first year of the Hegira). Here is the tomb of Alexander, in
searching which the French antiquaries found an elegant little
statue in lerra-cotta, ten or twelve inches in height, dressed after the
Greek fashion ; near the city were Pompey's Pillar and Cleopa-
tra's famous Needles. The architecture of the Egyptian cities
resembles the Asiatics more than the European ; and their gar-
dens are full of trees and fountains, but not laid out in any order.
Egypt produces abundance of wheat, rice, and pulse. It was
the granary of old Rome, as it is at present that of Constantinople.
It also produces sugar, indigo, senna, cassia, nitre, flax and hemp ;
but it has neither wood. coal, nor oil. It procures tobacco from
Syria, and coffee from Arabia. It feeds numerous flocks, inde-
pendently (if those of the Desert, and a multitude of poultry.
The chickens are hatched in ovens, which is an immemorial cus-
tom. This country serves as an intermediate link or resting-
place between Africa and Asia. The caravans arrive at Cairo
like ships on a coast, at the moment when they arc least ex-
pected, and from the most remote quarters. Signals of their ar-
rival are made at Gizeh, and they approach by the Pyramids.
At that spot they are informed at what place they are to cross the
34 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
Nile, and where they are to encamp near Cairo. The caravans
thus announced are tho.se of pilgrims or traders from Morocco,
Fez. Tunis, Algiers, or Tripoli, going to Mecca and bringing
goods to barter at Cairo. They are usually composed of several
hundred camels, sometimes even of thousands, and escorted by
troops of armed men. Caravans also come from Abyssinia, from
the interior of Africa, from Tagoast. and from places in direct
communication with the Cape of Good Hope and Senegal. They
bring slave-, gum, gold-dust, elephants' teeth, beautiful ncgresses
from Darfour. and in general all the produce of those countries.
which they exchange for the merchandize of Europe and of the
Levant. The French, English, or any other nation established
in Egypt, would soon have to supply the wants of the inhabitants
of the Deserts of Africa. Abyssinia, Arabia, and a great part of
Syria, and in return might obtain from Egypt wheat, rice, sugar,
nitre, and all the productions of Africa and Asia.
There is neither coach nor cart in Egypt. The facility of
water-carriage supersedes the use of them ; and the camel is used
to cross the Desert and as the ordinary beast of burthen. The
horses are the finest in the world. Buonaparte's coachman, C;e-
sar. astonished the natives by his dexterity in driving his carriage
with six line horses through the narrow streets of Cairo and Bou-
lac. He himself speaks of this circumstance with no small com-
placency. Even the greatest minds are not unwilling to derive
admiration from accident and at a little expense of exertion. Lord
Byron endeavored to make the Italians stare bv galloping through
the streets of \ enice on the only live horse ever seen there.
A spring of water, a patch of verdure, a tent, his camels, his
horse, and a herd of cattle, are all that the Arab possesses. Wa-
ter is the first of necessities in the ] >esert. and indeed throughout
the Mast ; and the Prophet has in a manner placed this element
under the peculiar protection of religion. To dig a canal or a
Well, or to erect a fountain, are considered as works not only of
great merit, but as acts of piety. Let us not run away with an
idea that all is wrong, because it is barbarous or unlike ourselves.
There i- a limit which neither good nor evil can pass : the exci ss
of every thing produces its contrary. Slavery in the East, by
being absolute and universal; has its necessary, practical allevia-
SITUATION OF EGYPT. 35
tions ; otherwise it could not be borne. Slaves are admitted as a
part of the family, marry their masters, or rise to the highest offi-
ces in the State ; for where all are slaves, all are equal. Cruelty
and distress naturally produce humanity and compassion, as hos-
pitality is the child of the Desert. Charity and alms are recom-
mended in every part of the Koran, as the means of being most
acceptable to God and the Prophet. Charity is so far the off-
spring of the parsimony of nature and the ravages of power. At
the appointed hour the Mussulmans say their prayers, wherever
they may happen to be, or whatever business they are engaged
in ; the slaves spread the carpets before them, and they kneel
with their faces towards the East. At the feast of Ramadan (says
Voltaire) the Mahomedans sing and pray five times a day, and then
fall to cutting each other's throats with the greatest good-will im-
aginable. Nor let this be imputed as a slur upon religion, but as
a redeeming trait in human nature, of which it stands in need.
Instead of showing the fallacy and nullity of the ideal principle,
it shows its universality and indestructible character. Man can
no more divest himself entirely of the etherial particle, the divincz
particvla aarce, than of the grossness of his nature, however one
or the other may predominate. The Moor or wild Arab who
laughs at human ties, who is the slave of headstrong passion or
of sordid interest, is still tamed by certain talismanic words writ-
ten in his sacred books ; eyes the golden chain let down from
Paradise to him with wonder and delight; is dangled in this film,
this cobweb of his brain like a puppet ; and his savage and mere
animal nature is cowed and subjected by his higher imaginative
and abstracted nature, just a's he himself curbs and bends the
camel or the wild ass of the Desert to his purposes !
The General-in-Chief went to celebrate the feast of the Prophet
at the house of the Scheik El-Bekir. The ceremony was begun
by the recital of a kind of litany, containing the life of Mahomet
from his birth to his death. About a hundred Scheiks sitting in
a circle, on carpets, with their legs crossed, recited all the verses,
swinging their bodies violently backwards and forwards, and all
together. A magnificent dinner was afterwards served up, at
which the guests sat on carpets with their legs across. There
were twenty tables, and five or six people at each table. Tha«
36 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of the General-in-Chief and the Scheik El-Bekir was in the mid-
dle : a little slab of a precious kind of wood, ornamented with
mosaic work, was raised eighteen inches above the floor, and
covered with a great number of dishes in succession. There
were pilaws of rice, a particular kind of roasted meat, entries,
and pastry, all very highly spiced. The Scheiks* picked every-
thing with their fingers ; accordingly, water was brought to wash
their hands three times during dinner. Gooseberry-water, lem-
onade, and other sorts of sherbet were served to drink, and abun-
dance of conserves and confectionary with the desert. The din-
ner was not disagreeable to the French guests ; it was only the
manner of eating it that seemed strange to them. In the evening,
the whole city of Cairo was illuminated. After dinner the party
went into the square of El-Bekir ; the illumination of which, in
colored glass, was exceedingly beautiful. An immense concourse
of people were present. They were all placed in order, in ranks
of from twenty co a hundred persons, who, standing close together,
recited the prayers and litany of the Prophet, with movements
which kept increasing until at length they became quite convul-
sive, and some of the most zealous fainted away. In the course
of the year, the General-in-Chief often accepted invitations to din-
ner with the Scheik Sadda, the Scheik Fayon, and others of the
principal Scheiks. The days chosen were different festivals.
The same magnificence prevailed at all their entertainments,
which were conducted in nearly a similar manner.
Buonaparte did not ever (as has been idly asserted) pretend to
be a convert to the Mahometan religion ; he merely avowed what
he probably felt, a high opinion of its founder, and treated its
ceremonies with respect and decorum. There seems however, at
one time, to have been a sort of tampering on the subject, as if he
had a desire to become a catechumen ; and the points of abstinence
from wine and circumcision were stated as difficulties in the way
of such an arrangement, which the Scheiks however thought might
be dispensed with, as not essential parts of the religion. This was
nc; good policy; instead of deceiving these subtle and sagacious
casir.sts, it. would give them a bad opinion of the sincerity of the
French Commander in other respects. To turn renegado was more
* The Doctors of the Law descended from the Arabs and the Prophet.
SITUATION OF EGYPT. 37
than was requisite to be admitted into the country on a friendly or
mercantile footing ; to conquer it, it was not enough. If then
religion was so excellent as to call for this mark of acquiescence,
it was probable that their laws and government were not so bad
as to require remodelling by the hands of strangers; and before
you can pretend to overturn an empire, it is absolutely necessary
to prove that you are either stronger or wiser than the conquered.
Half-measures will not do for extreme cases ; and where there is
a total antipathy of sentiment and maxims, one party or the other
must De masters, Buonaparte's soldiers, though superior to any
opposed to them, were a mere handful compared to the field over
which they had to act, and must in the end have bit the dust ; and
their chief does not appear to have possessed any spell or talis-
manic power in his bretst to kindle a flame through the East or
tame its raging fires. His breath had not the force to stir up the
sun-burnt population of Asia like a cloud of dust, and send it be-
fore him like a whirlwind ; and without this, it must be " blown
stifling back upon himself!'"' So far from propagating new prin-
ciples of civilization in the East, it was his object to crush and
neutralize them at home ; and instead of commencing and giving
full scope to a new era in society, to patch up and lengthen out
the old one, which had fallen in pieces from its own imperfections
and infirmity. Bacchus scattered god-like gifts and civilization
in the East, and returned from the conquest of India, drawn by
panthers, and followed by troops of wild men and women. Alex-
ander overturned barbaric thrones by martial discipline, and fell
a martyr to the intoxication of his own pride and passions. Buo-
naparte was stopped by a dismantled fort and an English cruiser;
and turned back to found an empire in the West, which fell upon
he founder's head because it was neither new nor old !
While the General-in-Chief merely conformed to the estab-
lished worship in outward appearance and from policy, General
Menou became a convert in good earnest, turned Mahometan, and
married a lady of Rosetta, whom he treated after the French
modes of gallantry. He gave her his hand to enter the dining-
room, the best place at table, the choicest dishes ; or if she drop-
ped her handkerchief, he ran to pick it up. She related these
circumstanced in the bath at Rosetta, where all the ^omen meet;
4
38 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
and the rest, in hopes of a change in the national manners, signed
a petition to Sultan Kabir, or the Fire-king (so they called Buo-
naparte), that their husbands should be obliged to treat them in
the same manner. A Revolution of the Harem might not have
been the least feasible project thought of. The women in the
East always wear a veil or a piece of cloth to hide their faces.
If taken by surprise, they will make use of any other part of
their dress sooner than let their faces be exposed. Marriage in
general takes place without either party having seen the other;
or at least without the husband having seen the wife. The dress
of the Oriental people is both becoming, easy, and magnificent.
Their necks and limbs are not confined by bandages or garters ;
a native of the East may remain a month in his clothes without
feeling fatigued by them. The little hats of the French, their
tight breeches, close coats, and the stocks which strangled them,
were, as they well might be. objects of laughter and aversion to
them. The freedom and looseness of the female dress makes a
greater contrast in this respect in Europe ; and the use of the
beard in remote climes or periods may be supposed to date the
distinction of manhood more pointedly from its growth.
The plague appears first on the coast of Egypt, and occurs al-
ways in winter. "When it broke out. the army adopted the pre-
cautions used at Marseilles; which were wholly unknown to the
natives, but of the utility of which they became at length sensi-
ble. Egypt is in general extremely healthy, and the soldiers
were chiefly incommoded by diseases of the eyes. This disorder
is attributed to two causes, first the sand and dust, and sec-
ondly to the checking of the perspiration, produced by very cold
nights succeeding very hot days. It is evidently owing in some
way to the climate. St. Louis, on his return from the Holy Laud
in 1250. brought back a multitude of blind; and it was this cir-
cumstance that gave rise to the establishment of the hospital of
the Qui'nr.c Vingfa at Paris.
Kgypt i> divided from Syria to the east by the Great Desert,
which is seventy-five leagues, or seven days' journey across.
BATTLES IN SYRIA. 31
CHAPTER XX.
THE BATTLES IN 1799 IN SYRIA.
Buonaparte remained during the rest of the year 1798 at
Cairo, ripening his plans, and watching the progress of events.
Soon after the battle of the Nile, the Porte, no longer kept in awe
by the French fleet or else alarmed for its possessions in the East.
declared war against France. In the beginning of 1799 the
Turkish armies assembled, one at Rhodes, the other in Syria,
in order to attack the French in Egypt. They were to act in
concert in the month of May, the first by landing at Aboukir,
the second by crossing the Desert which divides Syria from
Egypt. In the beginning of January news arrived that Gezzar
Pacha had been appointed Seraskier of the army of Syria ; that
his vanguard, under the command of Abdallah, had already ar-
rived at El-Arisch, and was occupied in repairing the fort, which
may be considered as the key of Egypt on the Syrian side. A'
train of artillery of forty guns, served by 1200 cannoneers in the
European manner, had been landed at Jaffa ; considerable maga-
zines were conveyed to that town, by means of vessels from
Constantinople ; and at Gaza stores of skins to hold water had
been collected, sufficient, it was said, to enable a large army to
cross the Desert.
Had the French remained stationary, they would have been
attacked by both armies at once ; and it was also to be appre-
hended that the Turks would shortly be joined by a body of Eu-
ropean troops. Thus hemmed in, the French would have no
retreat open to them by sea, as they had no fleet ; and by land,
the Desert of seventy-five leagues, which separates Syria from
Egypt, was not passable by an European army in the height of
the. hoc season. It was therefore the business of the French
General to anticipate his enemies, to cross the Great Desert du-
40 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ring the winter, to possess himself by a coup-de-main of the mag-
azines which had been formed en the coasts of Syria, and to attack,
and if possible to destroy the different troops in succession as fast
as they collected. In consequence of this plan, the divisions of
the army of Rhodes were obliged to hasten to the relief of Syria;
and Egypt not being threatened on that side remained quiet, which
allowed the French to march the greater part of their troops into
Syria. Had the attack on Acre succeeded, Buonaparte had it in
contemplation (at least as no impossible event) to have menaced
Constantinople with an army of 25,000 French, and 100.000
auxiliaries, Arabs, Copts, the Druses of Mount Lebanon, the
Christians of Syria ; and after establishing an amicable under-
standing with the Porte, to march on the Indus and effect the con
quest of India. The object of the expedition would thus have
been completely fulfilled by driving the English out of their
Eastern possessions ; but this splendid structure was built on the
sand. Buonaparte had already tried to open a communication
with Tippoo Saib, by a letter dated the 25th of January in this
year; but of course the negociation never came to anything.
On the 9th of February, a little before he left Cairo, it appears
by a letter to the Executive Directory, that he had celebrated the
commencement of the Ramadan with the greatest pomp, and per-
formed the same functions as were performed by the Pacha on
that occasion. General Desaix was at this period in Upper Egypt
lighting with Murad-Bey, 10(1 leagues from Cairo, near the Cata-
racts, where he had explored the ruins of Thebes; General Bon
was at Suez. Buonaparte, in all his letters to the Directory,
manifests great uneasiness at not hearing news from France, re-
specting which he seems to have been kept, either by design or
accident, very much in the dark. A Ragusan ship which arrived
at Alexandria, having on board one Citizen Ilarnelin with some
broken files of Italian journals. gave him a new light on the sub-
ject. " If,'' he writes to the Executive Directory, '• in the course
of March, Citizen Ham? litis report should be confirmed to me, and
France should be at war with the Kings, I shall return to Europe/'
He at the same time urges the necessity of reinforcements, ana
complains of the number of enemies he has to contend with—
BATTLES IN SYRIA. 41
Deserts, inhabitants of the country, Arabs, Mamelukes, Russians,
Turks, and English.
Buonaparte had addressed two letters to Gezzar Pacha in the
latter end of the preceding year; the only answer he gave was in
the first instance to use the messenger ill, and in the second to
cut his head off. The French at Acre were seized and treated
in a barbarous manner. The Pacha also issued a number of
proclamations, in which he called on the people of Egypt to re-
volt, and announced his speedy approach. Home months after
his vanguard took up a position at El-Arisch, a fort situated on
the borders of the Desert, six leagues within the Egyptian terri-
tory. The French General no longer hesitated, but determined
to carry the war into the enemy's country without delay. On
the 4th of February General Reynier joined the vanguard under
General Lagrange, stationed at Catieh, three days' journey in
the Desert, where Buonaparte had ordered considerable maga-
zines to be collected, and where General Kleber soon after arrived
from Damietta. Two days after, the Army set out from Catieh
(hi its march across the Desert to El-Arisch. during which for
several days no water was to be found. The difficulties which
arose on every side were borne with great patience; and the ene-
my was attacked and driven from the village of El-Arisch. and
the whole of his vanguard shut up in the Fort. In the mean time,
Gezzar Pacha's cavalry, with a body of infantry, having got into
the rear of the army, and taken upa position about a league off. Kle-
ber directed General Reynier to make a sudden movement, and at
midnight the enemy's camp was surrounded, attacked, and taken.
with a quantity of baggage and several prisoners. It was neces-
sary to open regular trenches before the fort; a heavy cannonade
was commenced against it. On the 18th at noon, a practicable
breach was made, and the commandant was summoned to surren-
der, which he did. Three hundred horses, much biscuit and rice
were found at El-Arisch, together with 500 Albanians. 500 Mau-
grabins, and 200 men from Adonia and Caramania ; the Maugra-
bins entered into the French service, and Buonaparte made an
auxiliary corps of them. On leaving Kl-Arisch. the vanguard
lost its way in the Desert, and suffered much lor want of water.
The provisions failing, the troops were obliged to eat horses, mules,
4*
42 LIFE OF NAPOLEOX.
and camels. On tlie 24th they came to the pillars placed to mark
the boundaries of Africa and Asia, and lay that night in Asia.
The following day the army marched on Gaza; and at 10 in t lie
morning saw 8000 or 4000 cavalry advancing towards them.
Murat's cavalry having passed a number of torrents in sight of the
enemy. Kleber's division and Lannes's light infantry, which sup-
ported the movement of the cavalry, charged the enemy near the
height which overlooks Hebron, and where Samson carried off the
gates of Gaza. The Mussulmans did not await the charge, but
fell back, having some men killed, among others the Pacha's
Kiaya. The 22d light infantry behaved extremely well, and fol-
lowed the cavalry running, though many days had elapsed since
they had made a good meal or drank their fill of water. Gaza
contained powder, military stores, shells, implements, vast supplies
of biscuit, and six pieces of cannon.
The weather now became dreadful, with thunder and rain, the
first the army had encountered since its leaving Europe. Febru-
ary 28, they slept at Eswod. the ancient Azot. and on the 29th at
I'ameh. which the enemy had evacuated precipitately, leaving
behind him 100,000 rations of biscuit, a still greater quantity of
barley, and 1500 water-skins, which Gezzar had prepared in
order to pass the Desert.
Kleber's division was the first that invested Jaffa; Bon and
Lannes came up afterwards. The town was defended by ah >ut
forty pieces of cannon, which were' unmasked from all points
ami kept up a well-sustained fire. On the Gth of March, the
French having fixed their batteries and mortars, the garrison
made a ./•' ir ; a cmwd of men. in various costumes and of all
colors, were then seen marching out. Maugrabins, Albanians,
Kurds, Natolians. Caramanians, Damascenes, natives of Aleppo,
and blacks from Tekrour. Thev were, however, briskly re-
buked, and returned with mere expedition than they came.
Duroc, at that time aide-de-camp to the General-in-Chief, par-
ticularly distinguished himself in this adventure. At break of
day Duona: arte caused the Governor to he summoned, who had
his messenger's head struck off and sent no answer. At seven
o'clock the firing commenced, and in an hour Buonaparte judged
the breach practicable. General Lannes made the dispositions for
BATTLES IN SYRIA. 43
the assault. The Adjutant-General's assistant, Neterwood, and
ten carbineers first mounted the breach, followed by three com-
panies of grenadiers, under General Rambaud. At five the as-
sailants were masters of the town, which was for twenty-four
hours given up to pillage and all the horrors of war. Four
thousand of Gezzar's soldiers were put to the sword, and a num-
ber of the inhabitants were massacred.
In the course of a few days several ships arrived from St. Jean
d'Acre with military stores and provisions; they were seized in
the port. Abd-Oullah, Gezzar's General, had the address to
conceal himself among the people from Egypt, and to go and
throw himself at Buonaparte's feet. The latter sent to Damascus
and Aleppo more than 500 persons belonging to those two cities,
as well as between 400 and 500 persons into Egypt. He pardon-
ed the Mamelukes and Kiaschefs whom he took at El-Arisch •
he pardoned also Omar-Mackram, Scheik of Cairo; he was mer-
ciful towards the Egyptians as well as towards the people of
Jaffa, but severe towards the garrison which suffered itself to be
taken with arms in its hands. The French found at Jaffa fifty
pieces of cannon, thirty of which were of European make, be-
sides immense stores of provisions. The siege was conducted by
Caffarelli, who afterwards fell at Acre; Colonel Lejeune, who
was killed in mounting the breach, was deeply regretted by his
corps and by the army.
It was from Jaffa that Buonaparte dated two of his most fa-
mous letters, the one addressed to the inhabitants of Palestine,
the other to Gezzar Pacha; which deserve insertion here, as
specimens of his manner of adopting the energetic and imposing
style of Eastern composition. They are as follows : —
" General Buonaparte to the Scheiks, Ulemas, and other In-
habitants of the Provinces of Gaza, Ramlth, and Jaffa.
"Jaffa, 19th Ventose, year VII.
March 9, 1799.
; ' God is forgiving and merciful !
•• L write the present letter to inform you that I am come into
Palestine to drive out the Mamelukes and the army of Gezzar
Pacha.
44 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
'• By what right has Gezzar extended his inroads into the pro-
vinces of Jaffa. Remleh, and Gaza, which are no part of his
Paehaship ? Or by what right did he send his troops to El-
Arisch ? lie lias provoked me to war ; I have brought it to him ;
but it is not un you, inhabitants, that I intend to inflict its horrors.
"Remain quiet in your homes; let those who have quitted
them through fear return to them; I will grant to everyone the
property he possesses.
•• It is my intention that the Cadis shall continue their functions
as usual, and dispense justice ; that religion, in particular, shall be
protected and revered ; and that the mosques shall be frequented
by all good Mussulmans; it is from God that all good things
come; it is he who gives the victory.
" It is proper that you should know that all human efforts are
useless against me ; for all that I undertake is destined to suc-
ceed. Those who declare themselves my friends, prosper; those
who declare themselves my enemies, perish. The example of
what has just occurred at Jaffa and Gaza, ought to teach you that
if I am terrible to my enemies, I am kind to my friends, and,
above all, benevolent and merciful to the ]50or.
(Signed) BuOXAPARTE."
The letter to Gezzar Pacha bears the same date, and runs
thus: —
:( Since my entrance into Egypt I have several times informed
you that it was not my intention to make war upon you. but that
mv only object was to drive out the Mamelukes ; you have not
answered any of the proposals I have made to vou.
'■ I apprised you that I wished you to remove Lbrahim-Bev from
the frontiers of Egypt; but far from doing so, you have sent
troops to Gaza, collected great magazines. publi>hed on all sides
that you were about to enter Egypt ; and at length carried this
invasion into effect by sending 2000 of your men to the fort of
El-Arisch, six leagues within the territory of Egvpt. It, then lie-
came incumbent on me to set out from Cairo, and bring home to
you the war which you seem to provoke.
" The provinces of Gaza, Ramleh, and J alia are in my power.
BATTLES IN SYRLA. 43
I have treated those of your troops who placed themselves at my
mercy with generosity : I have treated those who had violated the
laws of war with severity. I shall march in a few days on St.
Jean d'Acre. But why should I deprive an old man whom I do
not know of a few years of life ? What signify a few leagues
more by the side of the countries I have conquered ? And since
God gives me the victory, I will, like him, be forgiving and mer-
ciful, not only towards the people, but towards the great also.
" You have no real reason to be my enemy, for you were the
foe of the Mamelukes. Your Pachaship is separated from Egvpt
by the provinces of Gaza and Ramleh, and by immense deserts.
Become my friend once more, be the enemy of the Mamelukes
and English, and I will do you as much good as I have done and
can do you harm. Send me your answer by a man furnished
with full powers and acquainted with your intentions. Let him
present himself to my vanguard with a white flag: I give an
order to my staff to send you a safe conduct, which you will find
annexed.
" On the 24th of this month I shall march against St. Jean
d'Acre ; I must therefore have your answer before that day.
(Signed) Bcoxaparte."
With the name of Jaffa are connected two of the ugliest charges
ever brought against Buonaparte, those of massacring the Turkish
prisoners and poisoning his own troops in the hospital there ;
which were for a long time repeated with no less confidence than
success, and which have since been proved, and indeed acknow-
ledged by the persons chiefly concerned in propagating them, to
be as groundless as they were odious. The truth with respect to
each of them appears to have been this, which cannot be given
better than in his own words :
" 1 asked the Emperor then if he had ever read Miot's History
of the Expedition to Egypt? ' What, the Commissary?' he re-
plied ; ' I believe Las Cases gave me a copy; moreover, it was
published in my time.' He then desired me to bring the one
which I had, that he might compare them. He observed, ' Miot
was a polisson, whom, together with his brother, I raised from the
dirt. He says that I threatened him for writing the book, which
Ab LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
is a falsehood. I said to his brother once that he might as well
not have published untruths. He was a man who had always
fear before his eyes. What does he say about the poisoning af-
fair and the shooting at Jaffa V I replied, that as to the poison-
ing, Miot declared he could say no more than that such had been
the current report ; but that he positively asserted that he (Na-
poleon) had caused between three and four thousand Turks to be
shot some days after the capture of Jaffa. Napoleon answered,
' It is not true that there were so many. I ordered about a thou-
sand or twelve hundred to be shot which was done. The reason
was, that amongst the garrison of Jaffa a number of Turkish
troops were discovered whom I had taken a short time before at
El-Arisch, and sent to Bagdat upon their parole not to serve again
or to be found in arms against me for a year. I had caused them
to be escorted twelve leagues on their way to Bagdat bv a divis-
ion of my army. But those Turks, instead of proceeding to Bag-
dat, threw themselves into Jaffa, defended it to the last, and cost
me a number of brave men to take it, whose lives would have
been spared, if the others had not reinforced the garrison of Jaffa.
M ireover, before I attacked the town. I sent them a flag of truce.
Immediately afterwards we saw the head of the bearer elevated
on a pole over the wall. Now if I had spared them again, and
sent them away upon their parole, they would directly have gone to
St. Jean d'Acre, where they would have played me over again the
same trick that they had done at Jaffa. In justice to the lives of
mv soldiers, as every general ought to consider himself as their
father and them as his children, I could not allow this. To leave
as a guard a portion of my army, already small and reduced in
number in consequence of the breach of faith of those wretches
was impossible. Indeed, to have acted otherwise than I did, would
ppibablv have caused the destruction of my whole armv. I there-
fore, availing myself of the rights of war. which authorize putting
to death prisoners taken under such circumstances, independent
of the right given to me by having taken the city bv assault, and
'hat of retaliation on the Turks fbr having slaughtered my mes-
senger, ordered thai the prisoners taken at El-Arisch, who in de-
fiance of their capitulati m had been found bearing arms against
me, should be singled out and shot. The rest, amounting to a
BATTLES IN SYRIA. 47
considerable number, were spared. I would,' continued he, 'do
the same thing again to-morrow, and so would any General com-
manding an army under similar circumstances.'
" ' Previous to leaving Jaffa,' continued Napoleon, ' and after
the greatest number of the sick and wounded had been embarked,
it was reported to me that there were some men in the hospital so
dangerously ill as not to allow of their being removed. I imme-
diately ordered the chiefs of the medical staff to consult together
on what was best to be done, and to deliver their opinion on the
subject. Accordingly they met, and found that there were seven
or eight men so dangerously ill, that they conceived it impossible
for them to recover ; and also that they could not exist twenty-
four or thirty-six hours longer ; that moreover, being afflicted
with the plague, they would spread that disease among all those
who approached them. Some of them, who were sensible, per-
ceiving that they were about to be abandoned, demanded with
earnest entreaties to be put to death. Larrey was of opinion that
recovery was impossible, and that these poor fellows could not
exist many hours ; but as they might linger long enough to be
alive when the Turks entered, and be subjected to the dreadful
tortures which they were accustomed to inflict upon their prison-
ers, he thought it would be an act of charity to comply with their
desires and accelerate their end by a few hours. Desgenettes did
not approve of this, and replied that his profession was to cure the
sick and not to dispatch them. Larrey came to me immediately
afterwards, informed me of the circumstances and of what Des-
genettes had said, adding that perhaps Desgenettes was right.
But. proceeded Larrey, those men cannot live for more than a few
hours, twenty-four or thirty-six at most, and if you will leave a
rearguard of cavalry to stay and protect them from advanced
parties that will be sufficient. Accordingly I ordered four or five
hundred cavalry to remain behind, ^.iu not to quit the place until
all were dead. They did remain, and informed me that all had
expired before they left the town ; but I have heard since, that
Sidney Smith found one or two alive when he entered it. This
is the truth of the business. Wilson himself, I dare say, knows
now that he was mistaken. Sir Sidney Smith never asserted any
thing of the kind. I have no doubt that this story of the poison-
48 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ing originated in something said by Desgenettes, who was a bavard,
which was afterwards misconceived or incorrectly repeated.
Desgenettes was, however, a good man, and notwithstanding his
having given rise to this story, I was not offended, and had him
near my person in different campaigns afterwards. Not that I
think it would have been a crime, had opium been administered ;
on the contrary I think it would have been a virtue. To leave a
few unfortunate beings who could not recover, in order that they
might be massacred by the Turks with the most dreadful tor-
ments, as was their custom, would, I think, have been cruelty.
A General ought to act with his soldiers as he would wish
should be done to himself. Now, would not any man under simi-
lar circumstances, who retained his senses, have preferred dying
easily a few hours sooner, rather than expire under the tortures
of those barbarians ? You have been amongst the Turks and
know what they are ; I ask you now to place yourself in the
situation of one of those sick men, and that you were asked whicn
you would prefer ; to be left to suffer the tortures of those mis-
creants, or to have opium administered to you V I replied, most
undoubtedly I should prefer the latter. ' Certainly, so would any
man,' answered Napoleon ; ' if my own son (and I believe I love
my son as well as any father does his child) were in a similar
situation with those men, I would advise it to be done ; and if so
situated myself, I would insist upon it, if I had sense enough and
strength enough left 10 demand it. But, however, affairs were
not so pressing as to prevent my leaving a party to take care of
them, which was done. If I had thought such a measure as that
of giving opium unavoidable, I should have called a council of
war. have stated the necessity of it, and have published it in the
order of the day. It should have been no secret. Do you think
that if I had been capable of secretly poisoning my soldiers (as
doing a necessary action secretly would give it the appearance
of a crime), or of such barbarities as driving mv carriage over
the dead or the still bleeding bodies of the wounded, that my
troops would have fought for me with an enthusiasm and an affec-
tion without a parallel ? No, no. I never should have done so
a second time. Thev would have shot me in passing. Even
BATTLES IN SYRIA. 42
some of the wounded, who had sufficient strength left to pull a
trigger, would have dispatched me.'"
Such is the account given hy O'Meara of Buonaparte's con-
versation with him on this subject, which, independently of other
proof, carries its own evidence with it. Yet it was one of those
charges which, insisted upon for a number of years with every
circumstance of aggravation, gangrened the public mind and
swelled the war-whoop against him, whenever a plea was wanted.
In proportion to the odiousness of the imputation was the natural
horror it excited, and the firm conviction entertained of the truth
of this phantom of a heated imagination. The Engl.ih are too
ready to give ear to charges against their enemies ; and from this
weakness in their character, every adventurer who can bring an
idle tale against a formidable opponent or with the aid of half-a-
dozen venal scribblers stigmatize him with an opprobrious nick-
name, can inflame the national hostility and prejudices to a state
bordering on madness, and wield the power of ten or twelve mil-
lions of people to any purpose, either of right or wrong, that the
Government pleases. This is a dangerous engine ; and the
handle that has been made of it in this instance among others
should shame us out of the use of it. Napoleon attributes to the
great Lord Chatham a saying on this subject, that " if the Gov-
ernment were to deal fairly or justly with France, England would
not exist for four-and-twenty hours." It looks as if this senti-
ment were not peculiar to him ; but it has been acted upon with
tenfold virulence and still more pernicious effect in our time.
His real behavior to the sick at Jaffa, and the imminent peril
to which he exposed himself to calm the fears of the army at the
infection which broke out among them, form a striking contrast
to the foregoing calumny. The soldiers in the pillage of the
place having plundered the houses of a number of articles of
Turkish dress which were infected, this produced the plague
among them. The following day the General-in-Chief gave
orders that every soldier should bring his booty into the square,
when all the articles of wearing apparel were burnt. But. the
disease had been already communicated. He caused the sick to
be immediately conveyed to the hospitals, where those infected
with the plague were carefully separated from the rest. For a
VOL. II. 4 5
SO LIFE OP NAPOLEON.
short time he succeeded in persuading the troops that it was only
a fever with swellings, and not the plague ; and in order to con-
vince them of it, he went publicly to the bed-side of a soldier who
was infected, and touched him. This had a great effect in
encouraging the men ; and even some of the surgeons, who had
abandoned them, became ashamed and returned to their duties.
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 51
CHAPTER XXI.
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA.
Jaffa is situated between Gaza and St. Jean d'Acre, the road
to which runs nearly along the sea-shore, close by Mount Car-
mel, on the top of which there is a convent and fountain, and a
rock with the print of a man's foot, which tradition gives out to
have been left by Elijah when he ascended to heaven. The
heights of Richard Cceur-de-Lion are about half a mile from it.
The siege of St. Jean d'Acre began on the 20th of March ;
and from this period till the 1st of April the battering-train con-
sisted of one thirty-two-pounder carronade, which Major Lam-
berl had taken at Caiffa by seizing the long-boat of the Tiger by
main force ; but it was not possible to make use of it with the
carriage belonging to the boat, and besides, there were no can-
non balls. These difficulties speedily vanished. In twenty- four
hours the park of artillery constructed a carriage. As for balls,
Sir Sidney Smith took upon himself to provide them. A few
horsemen or waggons made their appearance from time to time ;
upon which the English Commodore* approached and poured in
an alternate fire from all his tiers ; and the soldiers, to whom the
director of the park paid five sous for every ball, immediately
ran to pick them up. They were so much accustomed to this
manoeuvre that they would go and fetch them in the midst of the
cannonade and of the shouts of laughter it occasioned. Some-
times the construction of a battery was pretended to be begun.
Thus the besiegers obtained twelve and thirty-two pounder balls.
They had powder, which had been brought from Cairo, and more
had been found at Jaffa and Gaza. The total of their means in
the way of artillery amounted only to four twelve-pounders, pro-
* Sii Sidney Smith was cruising off Acre with the English fleet, and
ofteu entered the town.
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
vided with two hundred rounds each, eight howitzers, a thirty-
two-pounder carronade, and thirty four-pounders. The engi-
neer, General Samson, being ordered to reconnoitre the town, re-
ported incorrectly that there was neither counterscarp nor ditch,
from having in the night reached a wall, which he had mistaken
for the rampart. A breach was made in tins wall, and fifteen
sappers and twenty-five grenadiers, with Adjutant-General Lau-
gier at their head, were ordered to clear it, but on coming out on
the other side, were stopped short by a counterscarp of fifteen
feet and a ditch several yards in width. Five or six of the as-
sailants were wounded, and the rest, pursued by a dreadful fire
of musquetry, regained the trench pn cipitately. A miner was
immediately set to work to blow up the counterscarp. In three
days tiie mine was got ready, under the fire of the ramparts and
of a great quantity of mortars, directed by excellent gunners
furnished by the English ships, which scattered shells in all
directions. The eight-inch mortars and live pieces which the
English had taken at Aboukir, now strengthened the defence of
the place. On the 25th the mine was sprung, but only over-
threw half of the counterscarp. The staff-officer .Madly was,
however, sent forward with twenty-five grenadiers and six sap-
pers, and Laugier with two battalions hastened to support the
attack ; but the latter, on reaching the counterscarp, met the
grenadiers returning with the news that the trench was too high
by some feet, and that Madly, with several of their comrades,
had been killed. When the Turks first saw this young officer
fastening the ladder, they were seized with terror and fled to the
fort. But tiie death of Mailly frustrated the whole operation ;
Laugier was also killed and c msiderable loss incurred without
any benefit, though the town ought to have been taken at this
time, as reinforcements arrived in the garrison by sea dailv.
S ion afterwards, the counterscarp was blown up by a new mine
sunk fjr that purp ise, and continued under the ditch in order to
blow up the whole tower, as there was no hope of getting in at
the breach, which had been filled up with all sorts of combusti-
bles. The English and Turks stood on the inside, and knocked
the fi:\v stragglers on the head one by one as they entered.
About this time tiie garrison made a sortie, led on by two
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 53
hundred English, but they were repulsed and a captain of ma-
rines was killed.
It was during the progress of the siege, or in the month of
April, that the actions of Canaan, Nazareth, Saffet, and Mount
Tabor were fought. The last was that which Kleber admired so
much. He had foretold its ill-success to Buonaparte, and done
all he could to dissuade him from it, but had promised to come up
in time to assist him. Buonaparte sat up all night in his tent
with the officers sleeping round him. He sat at a table examin-
ing maps and measuring distances with a pair of compasses.
Every now and then he mse up, went to the opening of the tent,
either to breathe the fresh air, or as if to see how the night waned.
With the first streak of light he woke the officers, and by ten
o'clock he had beaten the Turks, when Kleber arrived just in
time to compliment him on his victory.
In the middle of April, Rear-Admiral Perre had arrived at Jaffa
with three frigates from Alexandria • he had landed two mortars and
six eighteen-pounders at Tintura. Two were fixed to play upon
the little isle that flanked the breach, and the four others were di-
rected against the ramparts and curtains by the side of the tower.
On the 25th the mine was sprung, but a chamber under the tower
(which had been filled with sand) disappointed the besiegers, and
only the part on the outside was blown up. The effect produced
was the burying two or three hundred Turks and a few pieces
of cannon in the ruins, for they had embattled and occupied every
story of the tower. In order to take advantage of the first mo-
ment of surprise, thirty men attempted to make a lodgment in
the tower, but were unable to proceed beyond the lower stories.
On the 20th General Devaux was wounded, and on the 27th Caf-
farelli died. It was now resolved to evacuate the place, and In-
directing the batteries against this tottering tower, to destroy it
altogether. From this period the besieged perceived that if tliev
remained longer on the defensive, they were lost. The imagina
tion of the Turks was struck with terror, and they fancied every
spot to be undermined. A reinforcement of 3000 men entered
the place, and Phelippeaux, a French emigrant officer, formed
lines of counter-attack ; they began at Gezzar's palace and the
right of the front of attack. In the space between the two, the
54 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
most furious contests took place daily ; sorties were made with
various success, the besieged sometimes carrying every thing be-
fore them, and then being driven back again with great loss and
disorder. Dismay and death wore scattered around. From the
narrowness of the space and the numbers engaged, they had
hardly room to do all the mischief they would. Sometimes the
combatants in the trench, either from the putrid smell or some
other cause, being seized with the plague, went mad. did desper-
ate deeds, and fell dead as they fought. On the 1st of May, pos-
session was obtained at peep of dawn of the most salient point of
the counter-attack by twenty French volunteers ; and at the same
moment the English and Turks made a sortie, which was briskly
repulsed in its turn, and several hundreds killed. A mine had
been already carried across to the rampart under the ditch, when
on the 6th the garrison debouched by a sap covered by the fosse,
surprised the mask of the mine, and tilled up the well. On the
7th the town received a reinforcement of fresh troops.* As soon
as their approach was made known by signals, it was calculated
that according to the state of the wind they could not land for six
hours. In consequence of this a twenty-four pounder which had
been sent by Rear-Admiral Perre. was immediately brought into
play, which battered down a piece of the wall to the right of the
tower. At night the French troops fought their wav through the
breach, and had gained a footing in the place, when tiie troops
which had landed appeared in formidable numbers to renew the
battle. Rambaud was killed, and a great many fell with him;
Lannes was wounded. The bes'eged then sallied forth bv every
gate and took the breach in rear; but they were attacked in turn
and cut off. The prisoners taken were armed with European
bavonets and came from Constantinople. Every thing appeared
so favorable, that on the 10th, at two in the m irning, Xaj
ordered a new assault. General Dubois was killed in thi
skirmish ; and on advancing. Gezzar's house and all the avenui s
were found to be so thronged with defenders, that the soldiers
could not pass beyond the broach.
* Sir Sidney Smith's account is. th:it these frequent reinforcements were
in part imaginary. Imt tint he kept up a continual report of them to alarm
and discourage the enemy.
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 53
Under these circumstances, what was to he done? There
eeemed no hope of carrying the place by a coup-de-main ; new
succors were said to be leaving Rhodes; the French, remote as
they were from France and Egypt, could not afford fresh losses :
they had already 1200 wounded, and the plague was in the hos-
pitals. Accordingly, on the 20th the siege was raised. The re-
riistance made by the place was no doubt owing to a spirit foreign
) itself. The attack was obstinate and well-directed, and there
was a proportionable activity, courage, and readiness opposed to it.
A spirit like Ariel flamed on every part of the walls, and a master-
hand was discernible in all the operations. Sir Sidney Smith is a
person whose only fault seems to be a constitutional excess of activ-
ity and contrivance ; but the excess of these qualities is repressed in
the presence of the enemy or when life or honor is at stake, and the
original impulse remains a useful spur to overcome all obstacles.
Buonaparte speaks well of his courage and character, but considers
him very eccentric. He attributes the failure of the attack on Acre
to his taking the French battering-train, which was on board some
small vessels in the harbor. lie blames him for making sorties,
bv which he lost the lives of some hundreds of brave men. He
dispersed proclamations among the troops which had the effect of
shaking some of them, and Napoleon in consequence published
an order, stating that he was mad, and forbidding all communica-
tion with him. Soon after lie sent a lieutenant or a midshipman
with a letter containing a challenge to meet him at some place he
pointed out in order to fight a duel. Buonaparte laughed at this,
and sent him word back that when he brought .Marlborough to
fight him, he would think of it. Sir Sidney displayed considera-
ble ability in the treaty for the evacuation of Egypt, and took
advantage of the discontent which prevailed amongst the French
troops at being so lung absent from France, and other circum
stances. He also manifested great honor in sending immediately
to Kleber to apprise him of Lord Keith's refusal to ratify the
treaty, which saved the French army ; bad he kept it a secret
seven or eight days longer, Cairo would have been given up to
the. Turks, and the French army necessarily obliged to surrender
to the English. He also evinced equal humanity and bonor in
his behavior to the French who fell into his hands. He had
3« LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
landed at Havre in consequence of some foolish bet lie made that
he would go to the theatre without being discovered. He was ar-
rested and confined in the Temple as a spy, and at one time it
was intended to try and execute him, as a paltry revenge for the
mischief he had done at Toulon. Captain Wright was in a room
immediately over his head, and they conversed together by means
of signs. Shortly after Buonaparte's return from Italy, he wrote
to him from prison, to request that he would intercede for him ;
but in the circumstances in which he was taken, nothing could
be done for him. Buonaparte sums up the character of his
fortunate antagonist in these words: '-'110 is active, intelligent,
intriguing, and indefatigable ; but I believe him to be mezzo
pazzo.'''*
During some part of the siege of Acre, a shell thrown from the
garrison fell at Napoleon's feet. Two soldiers who were stand-
ing near, seized and closely embraced him, making a rampart of
their bodies for him against the effects of the shell, which explo-
ded and covered them with sand. They all three sank into the
hole formed by its bursting; one of the soldiers was wounded.
He made them both officers. One of them lost his leg at Mos-
cow, and commanded at Vincennes when the Allies entered Paris.
When summoned by the Russians to surrender, he replied that
"as soon as they sen! him back the leg lie had lost at Moscow, he
would give up the fortress." This man came from Perigueux in
the Dordonne, and survived his master, whose life he perhaps
saved. Manv times in hi.- life Buonaparte had been saved bv the
soldiers and officers throwing themselves before him when he was
in the most imminent danger. At Arcole, when he was at the
head of a desperate charge, his aid-de-camp, Colonel Muiron,
threw himself before his General, covered him with his body, and
received the blow which was aimed at him. '• He fell at my
feet," savs Napoleon, ••and his blood spouted up in mv face.
Never vet, I believe, has l ■ n such devotion shown bv sol-
diers, as mine have' manil> str-d fa - me. In ail my misfortunes
never has the' soldier, even win n expiring, been wanting to me —
never lias man been served in ire faithfully by his troops. With
* Hulf-mad.
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 57
the last drop of blood gushing out of their veins, they exclaimed
Vive VEmpereur /"*
During the expedition into Syria, the inhabitants of Egypt had
conducted themselves in an orderly manner. Desaix in Upper
Egypt continued to repulse the attacks of the Arabs, and to secure
the country from the attempts of Murad-Bey, who made incur-
sions from the Desert of Nubia into different parts of the valley.
Sir Sidney Smith had caused a great number of circulars and
libels to be printed, which he sent to the generals and com-
mandants who had been left behind in Egypt, proposing to them
to return to France, and guaranteeing their passage, if they chose
to do so, whilst the Commander-in-Chief was in Syria. These
proposals appeared so extravagant that it became the common
opinion of the army that the Commodore was not in his right
senses. General Dugua, who had the command in Lower Egypt,
prohibited all intercourse with him, and indignantly rejected his
overtures.
The French forces in Lower Egypt were daily increased by
the arrival of men from the hospitals. The fortifications of Alex-
andria, Rosetta, Rahmanich, Damietta, Salahieh, Belbeis, and the
different points of the Nile which it had been judged proper to
occupv with towers, went on constantly during the winter-months.
General Dugua had only to repress the incursions of the Arabs
and some partial tumults; the mass of the inhabitants, influenced
* At the battle of Hanau, General Le Tor. who fell afterwards at the
battle of Ligny, and to whose daughter Buonaparte left a legacy, cut his
way through a troop of Austrian cavalry to extricate Napoleon, who had
been surrounded by them. lie received a number of sabre wounds, and his
face was dreadfully scarified. Buonaparte told him, laughing, that if his
wife {a handsome English woman) admired him for his beauty lie ought to
be afraid of meeting her again. The name of this lady was Newton, and
the Emperor used to compliment her by saying that she did as much honor
to her country by her grace and beauty as her illustrious namesake had
done by his science. Buonaparte entering a wretched hovel in one of his
campaigns, and finding some potatoes roasting in the ashes, greedily seized
on one: and the other officers (of whom General Le Tor was one) drawing
back, he said, " Why don't you help yourselves? Do you think I am to
burn my fingers for you ?" This cordial familiarity of manners, contrasted
with the elevation of power, would naturally account for the extreme de-
votion of his troops.
4*
58 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
by the Scheiks and Ulemas, remained satisfied and quiet. The
first event which interrupted the general tranquillity was the
revolt of Emir-Hadji, or the Prince of the Caravan of Mecca.
The General-in-Chief had authorized Emir-Hadji to establish
himself in Sharkieh to complete the organization of his household.
He had already 300 armed men, but he wanted 800 or 900 to
form a sufficient escort for the caravan of the pilgrims on their
way to Mecca. He remained faithful to Sultan Kabir (the name
always given to Buonaparte in the East) until the battle of Mount
Tabor ; but then Gezzar having succeeded in communicating
with him by the coast, and having informed him that the armies
of Damascus and the Naplousains were surrounding the French
at the camp of Acre, and that the latter, weakened by the siege,
were irremediably lost, lie began to doubt of the success of the
French, and to listen to Gezzar, wishing to make his peace bv
rendering him some service. On the 15th of April, having re-
ceived more false intelligence from an emissary employed by
Gezzar, he announced his revolt by a proclamation published
throughout Sharkieh. In this he asserted that Sultan Kabir had
been killed before Acre, and the whole of the French army made
prisoners. The greater part of the population took no notice of
these idle rumors. Five or six villages onlv displayed the stan-
dard of revolt, and the Emir's forces were only increased by 400
li >rs ■. belonging to a tribe of Arabs. General Lanusse with Ids
moveable column left the Delta, passed the Xile, and marched
against Emir-Hadji, whom he succeeded in surrounding, put to
death those who resisted, dispersed the Arabs, and burnt one of
the villages as an example. The Emir-IIadji himself escaped
with lour other persons through the Desert, and reached Jeru-
salem.
Durimr these occurrences in Sharkieh, others ot greater im-
ice were passing in Bahireh. A man of the Desert ot
Derne, possessed of a Lire at reputation for sanctity amongst the
Arabs of his trib n , took it in: > his head to pretend that he was the
nnirel Flmody whom the prophet promises in the Koran to send to
On aid of the elect in th" m >sl critical emergencies. This man
had all the qualities calculated to excite the fanaticism of the mul-
titude. He succeeded in persuading them that he lived without
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 59
food, and by the especial grace of the Prophet. Every clay at the
hour of prayer, and before all the faithful, a bowl of milk was
brought to him in which he clipped his fingers, and passed them
over his lips ; this being, as he said, the only nourishment he tock.
He had collected a body of 120 followers, inflamed with zeal,
with whom he repaired to the Great Oasis, and was there joined
by a caravan of pilgrims, consisting of 400 Maugrabins from
Fez. He thus found himself at the head of between 500 and
GOO men, well-armed and supplied with camels; and marching
on Damanhour, surprised and killed sixty men belonging to the
nautical legion. This success increased the number of his parti-
sans. He visited all the mosques of Damanhour and the neigh-
boring villages, and from the pulpit declared his divine mission,
declaring himself incombustible and ball proof, and giving out
that his followers would in like manner have nothing to fear from
the muskets and cannon of the French. He enlisted 3000 or 4000
converts in Bahireh, most of whom he armed with pikes and
shovels, and exercised them in throwing dust against the enemy,
declaring that this blessed dust would frustrate all the efforts of
the French against them. Colonel Lefebvre, who commanded at
Rahmanieh, left fifty men in the fort, and set out with 200 to re-
take Damanhour. The action commenced, and when the fire was
briskest, some columns of fellahs outflanked tho French and
passed their rear, with their shovels raising clouds of dust.
Colonel Lefebvre could do nothing, though a number of the enemy
were killed in the skirmish. The wounded and the relatives of
those who were slain loudly reproached their leader, who had told
them that they were safe from the balls of the French. He
silenced those murmurs by quoting the Koran, and by maintain-
ing that none of those who had rushed forward full of confidence
in his predictions had been hurt ; but that those who had shrunk
back had been punished by the Prophet, because they had not
faith in their hearts. This excuse which ought to have opened
their eyes, confirmed their belief. He reigned absolute in Daman-
hour, and there was reason to apprehend the defection would ex-
tend to the whole of Bahireh and the neighboring provinces.
General Lanusse speedily crossed the Delta, reached Damanhour,
and defeated the troops of the pretended angel Elmndy. Those
60 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
who were unarmed dispersed and fled to their villages. Lanusse
fell on the rest of these fanatics without mercy, and shot 1500 of
them, amongst whom was their ringleader. He took Damanhour,
and Bahireh became pacified.
As soon as it was known that the French army had repassed
the Desert, and was returning into Egypt, a general consternation
prevailed amongst all those who had sided with the French. The
Druses, the Mutualis, the Christians of Syria, and the partisans of
Aver had to make their peace with the Pacha by large pecuniarv
sacrifices. Gezzar was become less cruel than formerly ; most
of his military household had been killed at St. Jean d ; Acre, and
this old man survived all those whom he had brought up. The
plague which was making great ravages in the town, also in-
creased his troubles, so that he did not go beyond his Pachaship.
The Pacha of Jerusalem resumed possession of Jaffa. Ibrahim-
Bey with 400 Mamelukes that he still had left, took up a posi-
tion at Gaza, and had some skirmishes with the garrison of El-
Arisch.
Elphi-Bey and Osman-Bey, with 300 Mamelukes, 1000 Arabs,
and 1000 camels, carrying their wives and their riches, went
down through the Desert between the right bank of the Nile and
the Red Sea, and reached the Oasis of Sebaiar in the beginning
of Julv. They waited for Ibrahim-Bey, who was to join them at
Ga/.a ; and thus united, they wished to induce all Sharkich to
revolt, to penetrate into the Delta, ami advance on Aboukir.
Brigadier-General Lagrange left Cairo with one brigade and half
the droni dary regiment. He came up with the enemy in the
night of tin' 9th (if July, and surrounded the camp of Osman-
Bey and Elphi-Bey. took their thousand camels and their families,
and killi d i 'sman-Bey, five or six Kiaschefs, and 100 Mamelukes.
The rest dispersed in the Desert, and Elphi-Bey returned to Xu-
bia. Ihrahim-Bev being informed of this event in time, did n it
quit Gaza. Murad-Bey. with the rest of the Mamelukes, amount-
ing to between 400 and 500 men. arrived in the Fayoum, and
thence proceeded bv the Desert to Natron, where he expected to
be joined bv 2000 or 3000 Arabs of Bahireh and of the Desert
of Dome, and to march on Aboukir, the place appointed for the
landing of the nrreat Turkish arm v. General Murat set out from
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. CI
Cairo, reached lake Natron, attacked Murad-Bey, and took a
Kiaschef and fifty Mamelukes. Murad-Bey briskly pursued, and
having, moreover, no news of the army which was to have landed
at Aboukir, but was delayed by the winds, turned back and
sought safety in the Desert. In the course of the 13th he reached
the Pyramids ; it is said that he ascended the highest of them,
and remained there part of the day, gazing with his telescope on
the houses of Cairo and his fine country-seat at Cizeh. Of all
the power of the Mamelukes, he now retained only a few hun-
dred men, disheartened, fugitive, and miserable. As soon as the
General-in-Chief heard of his being there, he instantly set out
for the Pyramids ; but Murad-Bey plunged into the Desert, ma-
king for the great Oasis. A few camels and some men were
taken from him.
On the 14th of July, the General-in-Chief heard (at Cairo)
that Sir Sidney Smith, with two English ships of the line, several
frigates and Turkish men-of-war, and a hundred and twenty sail
of transports, had anchored in Aboukir roads on the evening of
he 12th. The fort of Aboukir was armed, victualled, and in
rood condition, with a garrison of 400 men and a commandant
that might be depended on. Marmont undertook to defend this
fort till the army had time to come up. But this General had
committed a great error in not following the directions of the
General-in-Chief, who had ordered him to raze the village of
Aboukir, and extend the fortifications ; instead of which he had
taken upon himself to preserve the village, as convenient for can-
tonments, and had a redoubt constructed on the isthmus, which
he thought a sufficient security. On the 14th, the English and
Turkish gun-boats entered Lake Maadieh, and cannonaded the
redoubt ; and when it was thought sufficiently battered, the Turks,
sword in hand, mounted to the assault, carried the work, and
took or killed the 300 French stationed there. The 100 men that
remained in the fort, intimidated by the immense force that sur-
rounded them surrendered.
In the mean time, as soon as Napoleon was informed of the
landing of the Turks, he proceeded to Gizeh and dispatched or-
ders to all parts of Egypt. On the 15th he slept at Wardan, on
the 17th at Alham, on the 18th at Shabur, and on the 19th at
62 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Rahmanieh, thus performing a journey of forty leagues in four
days. The divisions of Murat, Lannes, and Bon marched from
Cairo ; Kleber came from Damietta ; General Reynier, who was
in Sharkieh, had orders to leave GOO men to garrison the forts.
and to march on Rahmanieh. General Desaix likewise received
orders to evacuate Upper Egypt,_ to leave the guarding of the
country to the inhabitants, and to come to Cairo with all possible
speed ; so that if it should be necessary, the whole army, amount-
ing to 25,000 men, might be in motion to join before Aboukir,
where there was every reason to expect not only a Turkish, but
an English army, and in the uncertainty of the event, the Gene-
ral-in-Chief took the worst for granted. It was his object to at-
tack and defeat the army which was landing at Aboukir, before
that of Syria (supposing such an army to have been collected and
to be on its way) could reach Cairo. On arriving at Rahmanieh
on the 20th, Napoleon learnt the news of the landing of the troops
under Mustapha-Pacha, and of the capture of the redoubt; but
that they had not stirred since, either because they were waiting
for the junction of the English, or for that of Murad-Bey. The
fortifications, in constructing which the enemy occupied them-
selves on the Isthmus of Aboukir, seemed to indicate that they
wished to make this point the centre of operations, and to march
thence either on Alexandria or Rosetta, according to circum-
stances. The General-in-Chief in consequence sent General
Murat to Birketh, a village at the head of Lake Maadieh, from
whence lie' could fall on the right flank of the Turks if they should
make for Rosetta, or on their left flank if they should march on
Alexandria.
A\'hile the columns were effecting a junction at Rahmanieh,
Napoleon visited Alexandria, and found every thing in the forti-
fications in excellent order, for which lie gave due praise io the
talents and activity of Colonel Cretin. As there was a proba-
bility of the English coming up, it was important to attack the
Turks separately ; but there was a difficulty in this, as it would
take several daws for the whole army to arrive from such distant
points, and as the troops actually assembled and ready to engage
did not amount to above 5000 or 6000. Napoleon set out from
Alexandria on the 24th, and proceeded to Puits, half-way acrosv
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 63
the isthmus, where he encamped and was joined by all the troops
that were at Birketh. The Turks, who were without cavalry,
could not watch his movements, and some hopes were entertained
of surprising the enemy's camp ; but this design was frustrated
by an accident. A company of sappers escorting a convoy of
tools, having left Alexandria late on the 24th, passed the fires of
the French army, and fell in with the outposts of the Turks at
ten o'clock in the evening. As soon as they perceived their mis-
take they fled, but ten were taken, from whom the Turks ascer-
tained that the General, with the army was opposite to them, and
the next morning they were prepared for the assault. General
Lannes with 1800 men made his dispositions to attack the ene-
my's left. Destaing with a like number of troops prepared to
attack the right ; Murat, with all his cavalry and a light battery,
was in reserve. The skirmishers of Lannes and Destaing soon
engaged with those of the enemy, and the Turks maintained the
battle with success, till Murat, having penetrated through their
centre, suddenly cut off the communication between their first
and second lines. The Turkish troops then lost all confidence,
and rushed tumultuously towards their rear. This corps consisted
of between 9000 and 10,000 men. The Turkish infantry are
brave, but preserve no order, and their musquets are without
bayonets : they are moreover deeply impressed with an opinion
of their inferiority to cavalry on level ground. Encountered in
the midst of the plain by the French cavalry, they could not re-
join their second line ; their right was driven towards the sea,
and their left towards Lake Maadieh. An unprecedented spec-
tacle now presented itself. The columns of Lannes and Destaing,
which had advanced to the heights lately quitted by their adver-
saries, descended thence at the charge; and these 10,000 men,
fro escape the pursuit of the infantry and cavalry, threw them-
selves into the water, and whilst the artillery poured grape-shot
upon them, were almost all drowned.. It was said that not more
than a score succeeded in swimming to the ships. This extraordi-
nary advantage, obtained with so little loss, gave the General-in-
Chief hopes of forcing the second line. Colonel Cretin was sent
forward to reconnoitre. The left was found to be the weakest
part. Lannes had orders to draw up his troops in columns, and
84 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
under the protection of the artillery to proceed along the lake,
turn the entrenchments, and throw himself into the village. Mu-
rat was to follow with his cavalry as before, prepared to execute
the same movement; Colonel Cretin, who knew every step of the
ground, was to direct their march, and Destaing was instructed to
make false movements, to occupy the attention of the enemy's right.
All these dispositions succeeded. Lannes had forced the en-
trenchments and made a lodgment in the village ; hut Mustapha-
Pacha, who was in the redoubt behind it, at this moment made a
sortie with 4000 or 5000 men, and thereby helped to separate the
French right from their left, at the same time placing himself in
the rear of their right. This movement would have stopped Lan-
nes short ; but the General-in-Cbief, who was in the centre,
marched with the 60th, cheeked Mustapha's attack, made him
give ground, and thereby restored the confidence of General Lan-
nes's troops, who continued their movement, and the cavalry ad-
vancing got in the rear of the redoubt. The enemy, finding them-
selves cut off, fell into the utmost disorder. General Destaing
charged on the right, and those who tried to regain the fort falling
in with the cavalry, not one Turk would have escaped, had it not
been for the village, which a considerable number had time to
reach and to entrench themselves in it. A great multitude were
driven into the sea. Mustapha with all his staff, and a body of
from l'JOO to loOO men, were surrounded and made prisoners.
It was four in the afternoon when the battle was over. Mustapha-
Pacha did not surrender till after making a valiant resistance ;
he had been wounded in the hand. The French cavalry had the
chief share in the fortune of the day. Murat was wounded in the
head bv a tromblon shot ; Duvivier was killed by a thrust from
a kaniriar. Cretin was shot dead bv a musket-ball, while con-
ducting the cavalrv, and Guibert, aide-de-camp to the General-
in-Chief, was struck bv a ball in the breast and died shortly after
the battle. The French loss was 300 men. Sir Sidney Smith,
who had chosen the position occupied by the Turkish army,
narrowly escaped being taken prisoner, and with some difficulty
got "ii board his sloop. The 60th had behaved ill in an assault
at St. Jean d'Acre, and the General-in-Chief had it inserted in the
order of the day that they should march across the Desert with
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA. 6fc
their arms reversed, and escorting the sick : by their spirited con-
duct at the battle of Aboukir they regained their former reputation.
Buonaparte left Egypt for France, which he thought required
his presence more, on the morning of the 6th of Fructidor (23d
of August) 1799, and landed at Frejus on the 9th of October.
He gave the command of the army, amounting to 28,000 men, to
Kleber, who at first doubting of Buonaparte's safe arrival, and
anxious to quit Egypt, sent over the most disheartening accounts
and gave ear to every idle rumor. He had formerly served un-
der the Austrians against the Turks, and had conceived the most
exaggerated ideas of their prowess and ability in war. Turkish
armies and English fleets hovered for a long time in the horizon
of his imagination, till Colonel Lautour-Maubourg, who left France
at the end of January 1800, arrived at Cairo, on the 4th of May,
with the news of Buonaparte's landing in France and the events
of the 18th of Brumaire, ten days previous to the term fixed for
the surrender of that capital to the Grand Vizier. Kleber took
heart at this, and he had only to march against the enemy. That
rabble which called itself the Grand Vizier's army, was chased
across the Desert without making any resistance. The French
had not above a hundred men killed or wounded, while the enemy
lost an immense number of troops, and their tents, baggage, and
artillery. An entire change now took place in Kleber's conduct ;
he set seriously to work to improve the state of the army and of
the country; but on the 14th of June, 1800, ho fell by the hand
of a fanatic. Menou succeeded to the command, who was totally
unlit for it. An English army of 18,000 men, under Sir Ralph
Abercrombie, landed at Aboukir the year following. The event
of that battle is well known: Sir Ralph Abercrombie was killed,
but the French army were obliged to lay down their arms and
evacuate Egvpt. which they did a short time after, thus losing
the whole object of the expedition. Admiral Gantheaume had
sailed from Brest the 25th of January, with 5000 men to rein-
force the army of Alexandria, and might have arrived in time,
had he followed his orders ; but he put back with every rumor
of an English vessel, and shifted his course oftencr than the wind,
as if determined to evade his instructions and defeat the object of
his vovao-e. The French character seems never to have been
6*
66 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
fixerl. or directed steadily and effectually to a given purpose, ex
cept under the strong pressure and immediate control of Buona-
parte's iron will.*
The scheme in which he embarked on this occasion was less
imperfect, and finally failed. But an incident which happened
long after, may serve to show the impression he made on all about
him, and on fierce, barbaric minds. Twenty years after the date
of the events here related, Antommarchi going to visit Napoleon,
then a captive and dying at St. Helena, arrived off Cape Palm.
They kept near to the shore, and saw a number of canoes leave
the isle and make towards them. They watched the progress of
these skiffs with an anxious eye. They were light, swift, narrow,
and low, managed by men squatted down in them, who struck the
sea with their hands and glided over its surface ; a wave, a breath
made them upset ; but nimble as the fishes, they instantly turned
their boats round again, and pursued their course. The vessel
had taken in sail ; they were soon up with it ; they were strong,
active, well-made. They brought provisions, which were re-
ceived with every mark of thankfulness. " Where are you
going ?" asked one of them. " To St. Helena," was the answer.
This name struck him, he remained motionless. " To St. He-
lena ?" he replied, in a tone of dejection — " Is it true that he is
there ?" " Who ?" demanded the captain. " The African cast
a look of disdain at him," says Antommarchi, " came to us and
repealed the question. We replied that he was there. lie looked
at us, shook his head, and at length let the word impossible escape
him. We gazed at one another ; we could not tell who this
savage could be, who spoke English, French, and who had so
hh r h an idea of Napoleon. 'You know him then?" — 'Long
ago.' ' You have seen him V — ' In all his glory.' ' And often V
— 'In Cairo, the well-defended city, in the Desert, in the field of
battle.' You do not believe in his misfortunes ?'• — ' His arm is
strong, his tongue sweet as honey, nothing can resist him.' — ■
' He has for a long time withstood the efforts of all Europe.' —
* The expedition into Egypt was originally suggested to the French
Government under M, Calonne. and afterwards to the Directory by a man
of the name of Magallon, who had been for several years French Consul
General in the East.
ST. JEAN D'ACRE AND ALEXANDRIA «7
* Neither Europe nor the world can overcome such a man. The
Mamelukes, the Pachas were eclipsed before him; he is the God
of Battles. ' Where then did you know him V — ' I have told
you, in Egypt.' 'You have served with him?' — 'In the 21st; I
was at Bir-am-bar, at Samanhout, at Cosseir, at Cophtos, wherever
this valiant brigade was to be found. What is become of General
Belliard ?' ' He still lives: he has rendered his name illustrious
by twenty feats of arms. You know him too'?' — 'He com-
manded the 21st; he scoured the Desert like an Arab; no ob-
stacle stopped him.' ' Do you remember General Desaix V — -
' None of those who went on the expedition to High Egypt will
ever forget him. He was brave, ardent, generous, he plunged
into ruins or battles alike ; I served him a long time.' ' As a
soldier ?' — ' No, I was not that at first ; I was a slave, belonging to
one of the sons of the King of Darfour. I was brought into
Egypt, ill-treated, sold. I fell into the hands of an aide-de-camp
of the Just.* I was habited like a European, and charged with
some domestic offices, of which I acquitted myself well ; the
Sultan was satisfied with my zeal, and attached me to his person.
Soldier, grenadier, I would have shed my blood for him : but Na-
poleon cannot be at St. Helena!' ' His misfortunes are but too
certain. Lassitude, disaffection, plots' — ' All vanished at his
sight; a single word repaid us for all our fatigues; our wishes
were satisfied, we feared nothing from the moment that we saw
him.' ' Have you fought under him !' — ' I had been wounded at
Cophtos, and was sent back into Lower Egypt; I was at Cairo
when Mustapha appeared on the coast. The army had to march.
I followed its movement, and was present at Aboukir. What
precision, what an eye, what brilliant charges ! It is impossible
that Napoleon has been conquered, that he is at St. Helena!'
We did not insist ; the African was obstinate, his illusion was
dear to him, and we did not wish to dispel it. We gave him some
tobacco, powder, some clothes, all the trifles, in short, which were
prized by Ins tribe. He went back well satisfied, speaking al-
ways of the 21st, of his chiefs, his General, and of the impossi-
bility that so great a man as Napoleon should be at St. Helena."-)
* The name by which Desaix was known in Egypt.
( Last Moments of Napoleon, by F. Antommarchi. vol. i. p. 51.
*8 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE.
Ox the 9th of October, 1799, (16th of Vendemiaire, year VIH.)
the frigates La Muiron and La Carrere and the xebecks La
Revanche and La Fortune, with which Buonaparte had sailed
from Rosetta, cast anchor at break of day in the gulf of Frejus.
No sooner were the French frigates descried than it was con-
jectured they came from Egypt. The people ran in crowds to
.he shore, eager for news from the army. It was soon under-
stood that Napoleon was on board, and such was the enthusiasm
among the people, that even the wounded soldiers got out of the
hospitals in spite of the guards, and went to the shore. The spec-
tators wept for joy. In a moment the sea was covered with boats.
The officers belonging to the fortifications and the customs, the
crews of the ships that were anchored in the road, in short, every
body thronged round the frigates. General Percymont, who
commanded on the coast, was the first to go on board. Thus
they were allowed to enter without waiting for the officers of
quarantine, for the communication with the ships had been gene-
ral. Italy had just been lost: war was about to be recommenced
on the Var, from whence Napoleon had driven it three years
before ; and Frejus dreaded an invasion as soon as hostilities
should begin. The necessity of having a leader at the head oi'
affairs was too urgent, and the public mind was too much agitated
by the sudden appearance of Napoleon at this juncture for ordi-
nary considerations to have any weight. The quarantine officers
declared that there was no occasion for subjecting these vessels
to it, and grounded their report on the circumstance that they had
touched at Ajaccio. This argument rather proved, that Corsica
ought to have been put under the same regulations. It is true,
that during fifty days which had elapsed since the vessels left
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 69
Egypt, there had been no appearance of sickness, and indeed the
plague had ceased three days before their departure. At six
o'clock that evening Napoleon, accompanied by Berthier, set off
for Paris. The fatigue of the passage and the effect of the
transition from a dry to a moist climate compelled Napoleon to
stop some hours at Aix. The inhabitants of the city and of the
neighboring villages came in crowds to offer their congratulations
at seeing him again. Those who lived too far from the road to
present themselves there in time, rang the bells, and hoisted flags
upon the steeples, which at night blazed with illuminations. It
was not like the return of a citizen to his country, or of a general
at the head of a victorious army, but seemed to imply something
more than this. The enthusiasm of Avignon, Montelimart, Va-
lence, and Vienne was only surpassed by that of Lyons. That
city, in which Napoleon rested for twelve hours, was in a state
of general delirium. The Lyonnese had always testified a strong
attachment to him, perhaps from feeling a peculiar interest (on
account of their situation) in all that related to Italy. They had
also just received the accounts of the battle of Aboukir, which
formed a striking contrast to the defeat of the French armies of
Germany and Italy. " We are numerous, we are brave," the
people seemed every where to say, " and yet we are conquered.
We want a leader to direct us — we now behold him, and our
glory will once more shine forth." In the mean time, the news
of Napoleon's return had reached Paris. It was announced at
the theatres, and caused an universal sensation, of which even
the Directory partook. Some of the Sociele du Manege trem-
bled on the occasion, but they dissembled their real feelings so as
to seem to share the common sentiment. Baudin, the deputy
from the Ardennes, who had been much grieved at the disastrous
turn the affairs of the Republic had taken, died of joy when he
neard of Napoleon's return.
Napoleon had already quitted Lyons, before his landing was
announced in Paris. With a precaution hardly necessary in
these circumstances, lie took a different road from the one he had
mentioned to his couriers ; so that his wife, his family, and par-
ticular friends went in a wrong direction to meet him, and some
days elapsed in consequence before he saw them. Having thus
70 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
arrived in Paris quite unexpectedly, he had alighted at his own
house in the Rue Chantereine before any one knew of his being
in the capital. Two hours afterwards, he presented himself to
the Directory ; and being recognized by the soldiers on guard,
was welcomed with shouts of gladness. Happy still was this
period when every spark of enthusiasm was not dead, and there
was at least one man in the world who could excite the least emo-
tion in the public breast! The intoxicating draughts of liberty
and of glory that mankind have swallowed in the last forty years
seem to have exhausted the vital principle of the human mind,
and have brought on premature old age and decay ! Buonaparte
had every reason to congratulate himself on the reception he met
with on all sides. The nature of past events sufficiently in-
structed him as to the situation of France ; and the information
he had procured on his journey had made him acquainted with
all that was going on. His resolution was taken. What he had
been unwilling to attempt on his return from Italy, he was now
determined to do at once. He had the greatest contempt for the
government of the Directory and for the leaders in the two Coun-
cils. Resolved to possess himself of authority and to restore
France to her late glory by giving a powerful impulse to public
affairs, he had left Egypt to execute this project ; and all that he
had seen in passing through France had confirmed his sentiments
and strengthened his design.
It is necessary to take a retrospective glance at what had hap-
pened in his absence. The elections of Floreal, year VI. (May
1793), which immediately followed his departure, were not favoi-
able to the Directory, though they took place in a totally opposite
spirit to those of the year V. After the l Q th of Fructidor, the de-
feat of the counter-revolutionists had thrown all the influence inro
the hands of the extreme republican party, who had re-established
the clubs under the title of Constitutional Circles. This party
ruled in the electoral assemblies, which had to nominate 437 new
deputies to the legislative bod v. As the elections drew near, the
Directory inveighed loudly against those whom it termed anarch-
ists ; but not being able to influence the choice of the members,
it determined to annul the greater part of them in virtue of a law,
bv which, in the preceding vear, the Councils had entrusted it
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRS. 71
with tl e power of revising the proceedings of the electoral assem-
blies. For this purpose a commission of five members was ap-
pointed out of the legislative body, by means of which the party
of the Directory struck from the list all the violent Republicans,
as nine months before they had excluded the Royalists. Soon
after, Merlin of Douay and Treilhard, who succeeded Carnot and
Barthelemy, went out of office by rotation ; Rewbell remained the
chief manager in all affairs which required boldness and prompti-
tude ; Reveillere was too much taken up with the sect of the
Theophilanthropists for a statesman ; Barras led the same dissolute
life as ever, and his house was the resort of gamesters, women of
intrigue, and adventurers of every description. To the difficulties
arising out of want of union in the government or from the con-
flict of parties were soon added those of a war with all Europe.
While the plenipotentiaries of the Republic were still negotia-
ting the conditions of peace at Rastadt, the second Coalition took
the field. The treaty of Campo-Formio had only been considered
by Austria as a suspension of arms to gain time. England found
no difficulty in engaging her to take part in the new confederation,
to which, with the exception of Prussia and Spain, all the other
European powers lent their aid. The subsidies of Great Britain
and a crusade in the South prevailed with Russia ; the Porte and
the Barbary States acceded to it in consequence of the invasion of
Egvpt ; the Empire to recover the loft hank of the Rhine, and the
petty princes of Italy in the hope of overturning the new Repub-
lics which had been established there. The Congress at Rastadt
was gravely occupied in discussing the articles of the treaty rela-
tive to the cession of the left bank of the Rhine, the navigation of
this river, and the demolition of certain fortresses on the right
bank, when the Russians advanced into Germany and the Aus-
trian army was immediately put in motion. The French pleni-
potentiaries, taken unawares, received orders to depart in twenty-
four hours ; they obeyed on the instant, and set forward on their
journey after having obtained safe. conducts from the enemy's
generals. At a short distance from Rastadt they were way-laid
by some Austrian hussars, who having ascertained their names
and titles, assassinated them on the spot ; Bonnier and Roberjot
were slain, Jean de Bry was left for dead. Such was the insult
72 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
and outrage deliberately and openly offered to the rights of nations
in the persons of the French envoys, because no terms were to be
kept with those who had set up the rights of nature in opposition
to the sacred right of kings ! Such was the meek patience, the
long-suffering, the mild perseverance, with which the Allied Pow-
ers showed their desire of peace by massacring the ambassadors
that had been appointed to conclude it with Lhem ! Such was
their " unbought grace of life," their " cheap defence of nations !'"'
Yet these are the people, they who authorized, who repeated, and
who applauded outrages like this, who were the professed sup-
porters of religion, morality, and social order, who if a hair of
their heads was but touched, cried out for help as if the dissolu-
tion of the world was at hand, and who laid it down that every
violation of the nicest punctilio with regard to them was a crime of
the deepest dye, in proportion as they were entitled and had carte
blanche (according to every notion of legitimacy) to practise all
sorts of atrocity with impunity and with impudence. Yet these are
the men who complained of the unprovoked aggressions and insa-
tiable ambition of France, and of the impossibility of making peace
with her. Yet it is to this government who thus broke off a hollow
truce, and seizing the sword, threw away the scabbard, that
Madame de Stael afterwards addressed the pathetic appeal — Allc-
magne ! tu es une nation, et tu plcurcs ! On the first intelligence
of this breach of faith and of every principle of civilized society,
the legislative body declared war against Austria, and in terms
of becoming indignation at the outrage which had provoked it.
Hostilities commenced in Italy and on the Rhine. The mili-
tary conscription which had been sanctioned by a law placed
200,000 recruits at the disposal of the Republic. The powers
who were the most impatient and formed the advance guard of
the Coalition had already entered the lists. The King of Naples
marched against Rome, and the King of Sardinia had levied
troops and menaced tin; Ligurian Republic. As they had not a
force sufficient to stand the shock of the French armies, they
were easily overthrown and defeated. General Championnet en-
tered Naples, after a sanguinary victory. The Lazzaroni defen-
ded the interior of the city during the space of three days, bu;
♦hey were at length compelled to submit, and the Partkenopean
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 73
Republic was proclaimed. Joubert occupied Turin, and all Italy-
was in the hands of the French, when the campaign opened upon
a wider scale.
The Coalition had the advantage of the Republic in numerical
forces, and in the forwardness of its preparations : it commenced
the attack by the three grand openings of Italy, Switzerland, and
Holland. A numerous Austrian army entered the Mantuan ter-
ritory, and twice beat Sherer on the Adige ; where it was soon
after joined by the eccentric and hitherto victorious Suwarrow.
Moreau took the place of Sherer, and was beaten like him. He
retreated by way of Genoa, in order to maintain the barrier of
the Apennines and to effect his junction with the army of Naples,
commanded by Macdonald, which had been almost crushed to
pieces at Trebbia. The Confederates then directed their princi-
pal force towards Switzerland. Some Russian troops joined the
Archduke Charles, who had defeated Jourdan on the Upper Rhine,
and who prepared to pass the Swiss frontier. At the same time
ine Duke of York landed in Holland with 40,000 English and
Russians. The little Republics that formed a circle round France
were invaded ; and after a few more victories, the Allies might
hope to penetrate to the very centre of the capital.
It was in the midst of these military disasters, and of the dis-
contents that followed, that the new elections for the year VII.
(May 1799) took place. They turned out favorably for the Re-
publican party, but fatally for the members of the Directory, who
were not strong enough to make a stand against the public calam-
ities and their personal enemies. Sieves replaced Rewbell, who
went out by rote, and was the only one among them who had
much energy or spirit to head a party. Treilhard was also de-
prived of his situation on account of an informality in his election
to office, the year required by the Constitution not having expired
since lie had belonged to the Legislative Body ; his place was
supplied by Gohier, Ex-Minister of Justice. Merlin of Douay
and Reveillere-Lepaux being thus left in a minority and violently
attacked by the most powerful speakers in the Councils, resigned
with some reluctance, and were succeeded by General Moulins
and Roger-Ducos. Sieyes, thus invested with power which he
had hitherto declined, began to cast about how he should effect
VOL. II. 5 7
74 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
the ruin of the old Republican Constitution of the year III. and
set up one of those in its stead, the plan of which he always car
ried about with him in his pocket. He had either feared or had
a dislike to Rewbell, and as long as he was in office, refused to
act with him. In the Directory he at present reckoned on .he
support of Ducos ; in the Legislature, on the majority of the
Council of Ancients ; among the people on those who wishing
to keep what they have, only require stability and order: he was
at a loss for a military leader, and for this purpose had fixed on
Joubert whom he had placed at the head of the Army of the Alps,
that by means of victory and the liberation of Italy, he might
gain a great political ascendant. The new Directors, Gohier and
Moulins, still wished to maintain the Constitution of the year III.;
they had the Council of Five Hundred on their side, and were
strengthened by the Club of the Manege, the remnant of that of
Salms, of the Pantheon, and of the Jacobins. Barras remained
neuter amidst these factions, or rather had a new game of ins own
to play, as he had lately connected himself with the royalist party.
This amidst so many agitations had not been idle, and taking ad-
vantage of the successes of the Coalition, of the embarrassments
occasioned by the forced loan, and of the unpopularity of the law
of hostages, which required the families of emigrants to give per-
sonal security to government, had begun to raise disturbances
in the South and West, and to re-appear in armed bands. Of all
the factions that disturbed France for so long a time, this is the
only one that remained true to itself: that waited patiently,
watched its opportunity, and seized upon it whenever it occurred.
Power never slumbers, and fear and self-interest wait upon it as
its shad iw.
Fortunately for the Republic, the war took a turn about this
time on the two principal frontiers of the Upper and Lower
Rhine. The Allies, having gained possession of Italv, wanted
to penetrate into France bv Switzerland and Holland; but
Massena and B rune put a stop to their hitherto triumphant march.
Massena advanced against Korsakof and Sow arrow. During
twelve days of well-contrived manoeuvres and successive victo-
ries, parsing to and fro from Constance to Zurich, he repelled the
efforts of the Russians, forced them to retreat, and broke up the
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 75
Coalition. Bruno likewise defeated the Duke of York in Hoi
land, obliged him to re-embark on board his vessels, and give up
the attempt at invasion. The Army of Italy alone had been
less successful ; and its General, Joubert, had been killed at the
battle of Novi, as he was charging the Austro-Russian army at
the head of his troops. But this frontier was of less consequence
on account of its remoteness, and was also ably defended by
Championnet. The change in the face of the war made, how-
ever, no change in the state of parties. Things went on as be-
fore. Sieves pursued his projects against the Republicans.
Lucien Buonaparte gave a flaming description in the Council of
Five Hundred of the reign of terror, which he said was about to
be renewed. Bernadotte was deprived of his command, and
Fouche, who had lately been appointed to the head of the police,
shut up the Social/' du Manage. The death of Joubert had once
more embarrassed Sieves in the choice of a military leader.
Hoche had been dead more than a year ; Moreau was suspected
on account of his conduct with regard to Pichegru ; Massena was
no politician ; Bernadotte and Jourdan were of the opposite party.
Things were in this state when Buonaparte returned, nineteen
days after the victory of Bergen, obtained by Brune over the
Duke of York, and fourteen after that of Zurich, obtained by
Massena over Suwarrow. lie was just the man that Sieves
wanted ; but as Buonaparte did not stand in the same need of
him, the fine web of policy he had woven was taken out of his
hands the moment it was realised, and the great political machine
he had been at so much pains and had taken so much time to
construct, turned and crushed the inventor as soon as it was put
in motion.
Of the members that composed the Directory when Buona-
parte quitted France a year and a half be fire, Barras alone re-
mained. The other members were Ducos, Gohier, Moulins, men
of moderate talents but of good intentions, and Sieves. The lat-
ter had been long known to Napoleon. He was a native of Frejus
in Provence, and his reputation had commenced with the Revolu-
tion. He had been called to the Constituent Assembly by the
electors of the Third Estate, at Paris, after having heen repulsed
by the Assembly of the Clergy at Chartres. He was the author
76 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of the pamphlet entitled, " Qu' est-ce-que le Tiers-Etal ?" which
made so much noise. He was not a man of business; all his
studies having been devoted to metaphysics, he had the common
fault of metaphysicians, that of too often despising positive no-
tions ; but he was, notwithstanding, capable of giving good and
useful advice on matters of importance, or at any urgent crisis.
To him France is indebted for its division into Departments, which
destroyed a number of local prejudices; and though he was
never distinguished as an orator, he greatly contributed to the
success of the Revolution by his advice in the Committees. lie
was nominated to the Directory at its first establishment ; but he
declined the distinction at that time from his dislike to Rewbell ;
and Reveillere-Lepaux was appointed in his stead. lie was
afterwards sent ambassador to Berlin, where he imbibed a great
mistrust of the politics of Prussia. He had taken a seat in the
Directory not long befure the 18th of Brumaire ; but he had al-
ready made great exertions to check the progress of the Sociele du
Manege, which he conceived to be ready to seize the helm of the
State. At the period of the 13th of Vendemiaire, a trilling cir-
cumstance had given Napoleon a favorable opinion of him. At
the most alarming moment of that day, when the Committee of the
Forty seemed quite at a loss, Sieves came to Napoleon and drew
him into the recess of a window, while the Committee was delib-
erating upon the answer to be given to the summons of the Sec-
tions. "You hear them, General," said he; " they talk while
they should be acting. Bodies of men are wholly unfit to direct
armies, for they know not the value of time or occasion. You
have nothing to do here; go, General, consult your genius and
the situation of the country : the hopes of the Republic rest on
you alone/'
Napoleon accepter! an invitation to a private dinner with each
of' tin- Directors ; and a grand entertainment was given to him by
the Directory. The Legislative Bodv desired to follow the ex-
ample ; but an objection arose on account of Moreau, whom they
did not wish to invite or to show him any mark of respect, his be-
havior having excited a very general disapprobation. To avoid
this difficulty, recourse was had to a subscription, and the enter-
tainment was given in the church of St. Sulpice, where covers
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 77
were laid for seven hundred persons. Napoleon remained at table
but a short time. He also dined with the Minister of Justice (Cam.
baceres), where he requested that the principal lawyers of the
Republic might be invited. He appeared very cheerful at this
dinner, conversed at large on the civil and criminal codes, to the
great astonishment of Tronchet, Treilhard, Merlin, and Target,
and expressed a wish that the persons and property of the Repub-
lic should be subjected to a simple code, adapted to the enlight-
ened state of the age. This wish he afterwards carried into effect
in the Code Napoleon. He entered but little into public enter-
tainments of any kind, and pursued nearly the same line of con-
duct that he had followed on his first return from Italv. He went
frequently to the Institute, but seldom to the theatres, and then
always went into the private boxes. Meanwhile, the arrival of
Napoleon in France made a strung impression on the rest of
Europe. The English were particularly enraged at Sir Sidney
Smith and Nelson for letting him escape. A number of carica-
tures on the subject were exhibited in the streets of London, in
one of which Nelson was represented amusing himself with dress-
ing Lady Hamilton, while the frigate La Muiron was passing be-
tween his legs.
Talleyrand did not expect to be well received by Buonaparte,
as lie had not seconded the expedition to Egypt by opening nego-
ciations with the Porte or going himself in person, as had been
stipulated. But he had been dismissed from the situation he held
through the influence of the Clubs. His address was also insin-
uating, his talents important ; a reconciliation accordingly took
place between the General and the Minister, for each wanted the
other. Louche, in whom Buonaparte had no faith, was not,
though Minister of Police, admitted into the secret of the 18th of
Bruniaire. Real, a zealous revolutionist, but a man full of
energy and character, possessed most of his confidence. All
classes were impatient to see what Napoleon would do, and all
parties courted him. The Societe du Manege even oiFered to
acknowledge him as chief, and to entrust the fortunes of the Re-
public to him, if he would second their principles in other respects.
Sieves, who had the vote of Roger Ducos in the Directory, who
swayed the majority of the Ancients and influenced a minority
78 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
in the Council of Five Hundred, proposed to place him at the
head of the Government, changing the Constitution of the yeai
III. which he deemed defective, and substituting one of his own,
which he had by him in manuscript. A numerous party in the
Council of Five Hundred, with Lucien Buonaparte at their
head, were also strongly in his favor. Barras, Moulins, and
Gohier hinted the eligibility of his resuming his old command of
the Army of Italy. .Moulins and Gohier were sincere in the
plan they recommended, and trusted that all would go well from
the moment that Napoleon should once more lead the armies to
victory. Barras knew better; he was aware that every thing
went wrong, that the Republic was sinking ; and it is broadly as-
serted that a plan to restore the Bourbons through his means had
miscarried by the merest accident, only a few weeks before.
Even Louis XV11I. turned his eyes on Buonaparte as a second
General .Monk, and wrote him a confidential letter, exhorting him
to put his intentions in his favor into effect, not long after the
overthrow of* the Directory.
In these circumstances Xapolcon had the choice of several
measures: 1st, To strengthen the existing Constitution and sup-
port the Directory, by becoming himself one of them. But the
Directory and the existing Constitution had fallen into contempt,
partly from external reverses, partly from wounds inflicted on
itself; and besides, he conceived that a magistracy in several hands
wanted the energy necessary in the circumstances of the times,
to say nothing of his own personal views. "2nd, He might change
the actual government, and seize on power by the aid of the So-
ciety du Mandge and the violent Republican party. In that way
his triumph would be secure and easy. But be reasoned that
these men attached themselves to no leader, and would brook no
control, that they would by incessant jealousy and cabal throw
all into chaos and confusion again, and that either the same scenes
of violence and extravagance would be acted over again, of which
there bad already been a satiety, or that he should be obliged to
get rid of. and put down by the strong hand of power, the very
persons who had raised him to it. and who had expected to share
it with him. There was a treachery and want of decorum in
this, to which he felt a repugnance ; or rather he had no in-
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 7»
clination to enter into any compromise or compact with this party,
but to wash his hands of them from the first as a preliminary and
indispensable step. 3d, He might secure the support of Barras
and his friends, but they were men of profligate character, and
openly accused of embezzling the public treasure. Without strict
integrity, it would have been impossible to restore the finances or
give energy to the measures of government. 4th, Sieyes had a
considerable party at his disposal, men of character and friends
of liberty on principle, but possessed of little energy, intimidated
by the Manage, and averse to popular violence. Such persons
might be made useful after the victory, and Sieyes could be con-
sidered in no sense as a dangerous rival. But to side with this
party was to make enemies of Barras and the Jacobins, who ab-
horred Sieyes.
On the 8th of Brumaire (October 30th) Napoleon dined with
Barras and a i'ow other persons. " The Republic is falling," said
the Director ; " things can go no farther ; a change must take
place, and Ilcdouville must be named President of the Republic.
As to you, General, you intend to join the army ; and for my
part, ill as 1 am, unpopular, and worn out, I am fit only to return
to private life." Napoleon looked stedfastly at him, without re-
plying a word. General Iledouville was a man of the most or-
dinarv character. This conversation decided Napoleon ; and
immediately after, he called on Sieyes to give him to understand
that he had made up his mind to act with him, and it was settled
that the blow should be struck between the loth and 20th of Bru-
maire. On returning to his own house, he found Talleyrand,
Fouche, Rcederer, and Real there. He related to them, without
any comment or without any expression of countenance which
could betray his own opinion, what Barras had just said to him.
[leal and Fouche, who both had a regard for the Director, went
to him to tax him with his ill-timed dissimulation. The following
morning at eight o'clock Barras came to Napoleon, who had not
risen ; insisted on seeing him, said how imperfectly he had ex-
plained himself the preceding evening, declared that he alone
could save the Republic, and entreated him, if he had any project
in agitation, to rely entirely on his cordial concurrence. But
Napoleon, who had already taken his measures, replied that he
80 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
had nothing in view, that he was indisposed from fatigue and the
change of climate, and put an end to the interview. Gohier and
Moulins came daily to Napoleon to consult him on military and
civil business : with respect to the first, he offered his opinions
frankly, but he declined interfering with the latter.
The officers of the garrison of Paris, headed by Moreau, the
adjutants of the National Guard, most of whom had been ap-
pointed by him when he was General of the Army of the Inte-
rior, wished to be presented to Napoleon : the 8th and 9th regi-
ments of dragoons, who were old regiments of the Army of Italy,
the 21st light-horse, who had taken a distinguished part on the
13th of Vendemiaire against the Sections, wished him to appoint
a day to review them : but the better to conceal his designs, he
either declined all these overtures or gave evasive answers to
them. The citizens of Paris also complained of the General's
keeping so close ; they went to the theatres and reviews in the
hope of seeing him, but he was not there. Nobody could account
for this shyness. " It is now," they said, '•' a fortnight since his
arrival" (an age to the levity and short-sightedness of these peo-
ple) •• and as yet he has done nothing. Does he mean to behave
as he did on his return from Italy, and leave the Republic to be
still torn in pieces by contending factions ?" But the decisive
hour approached.
On the loth Sieves and Buonaparte had an interview, at which
they resolved on the measures for the 18th. It was agreed that
the Council of Ancients, availing itself of tin.' l()2d article of the
Constitution, should decree tin- removal of the Legislative Body
to St. Cloud, and should appoint Napoleon Commander-in-Chief
of the guard belonging to it. of the troops of the military division
ot Paris, and of the National Guard. This decree was to be
passer] on the l v th. at seven o'clock in the morning ; at eisht,
Napoleon was to L r > to the Thuilleries, where the troops were
to lie assembled, and there ; > assume the command of the capi-
tal. On the 17th he sent word to the officers of the garrison that
he would receive them the iv\\ daw at six in the morning. As
tnat hour might appear unseasonable, ] K , foju-ned being about to
set olf on a journey : he e/av.- the same invitation to the forty ad-
jutants of the National Guard : and he informed the three cav-
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE 8l
airy regiments that he would review them in the Champs Elystes,
on the same day (the 18th) at seven in the morning. He also in
timated to the Generals who had returned from Egypt with him,
and to all those on whose sentiments he could rely, that he should
be glad to see them at that hour. Each thought that the invita-
tion was addressed to himself alone, and supposed that Napoleon
hud some particular orders to give him ; as it was known that
Dubois-Crance, the Minister-at-War, had laid the reports of the
state of the army before him, and had adopted his advice on all
that was to be done, as well on the frontiers of the Rhine as
in Italy.
Moreau, who had been at the dinner given by the Legislative
Body, where Napoleon had for the first time become acquainted
with him, having learnt from public report that a change was in
agitation, assured the latter that he placed himself at his disposal,
that he had no wish to be admitted into any secrets, and that he
required but an hour's notice. Macdonald, who happened to be
at Paris, had made the same tender of his services. At two
o'clock in the morning, Napoleon let them know that he wished
to see them at his house at seven o'clock, and on horseback. He
did not apply to Augereau or Bernadotte, whom lie knew to be
hostile to his designs ; but Joseph Buonaparte brought the latter,
who however slipped away from the cavalcade as it was on its
way to the Council of Ancients, and went to join the discontented
members of the Manege. General Lefebvre, who commanded
the military division, was known to be wholly devoted to the Di-
rectory ; Napoleon dispatched an aide-de-camp to him at mid-
night, desiring he would come to him at six o'clock.
Every thing took place as it had been planned. About seven
in the morning the Council of Ancients assembled under the prcsi-
dency of Lemercier. Cornudet, Lebrun, and Fargues depicted
in lively colors the distresses of the country and the dangers to
which it was exposed from internal and external enemies. Reg-
nier, deputy from La Meurthe, then proposed the removal of the
sittings of the Legislative Body to St. Cloud, and that Buonaparto
should be invested with the command of the troops; " under tti«
shelter of whose protecting arm," added the orator, " the Coun
cils may proceed to discuss the changes which the public interna:
o*
82 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
renders necessary." As soon as it was known that this step had
been taken in concert with Buonaparte, the decree passed, but
not without strong opposition. The decree was passed at eight
o'clock : and at half-past eight the state-messenger who was the
bearer of it arrived at Napoleon's house.* The avenues were
filled with the officers of the garrison, the adjutants of the Xa.
tional Guard, a number of generals, and the three regiments of
cavalry. Xapoleon had the folding-doors thrown open ; and
his house being too small to contain such a concourse of
persons, he came forward on the steps in front of it, received
the congratulations of the officers, harangued them, and re-
peated that he relied upon them for the salvation of France. At
the same time he gave them to understand that the Council of
Ancients, under the authority of the Constitution, had just con-
ferred on him the command of all the troops; that important
measures were in agitation, designed to rescue the country from
its embarrassed situation ; that he trusted to their support and
good-will, and that he was at that moment ready to mount horse
to proceed to the Thuilleries. This address was received with
tiie greatest enthusiasm : the officers drew their swords, and
vowed their service and fidelity. Xap Icon then turned towards
Lefehvre, demanding whether he chose to remain with him or re-
turn to the Directory ; but the latter, overcome bv this appeal did
not hesitate a moment. Xapoleon then mounted on horseback, and
placed himself at the head of the Generals and officers and of fif-
teen hundred horse, who Iiad halted for him on the Boulevard at the
corner of' the Hue Mnnl-Blanc. He directed the Adjutants of the Xa-
tional Guard to return to their quarters, and beat the drums; to make'
known the decree which they had just heard, an 1 to announce that
. rs were to It ■ nb'-ycd bul such as sh mid emanate fn mi him.
Xapoleon presented himself at the bar of the Council of Au-
c'-'iits. attended by this imposing escort. lie addressed the
A-s-mblv. ■• You are the wisdom of the nation," he said ; "at
this crisis it belongs to you to point out the measures which may
• This house was well chusvn. It is up a long narrow avenue (in the
I!'.'- ( 'hantereinel with walls mi b<>th .- : ■ 1 • • - . where Buonaparte, if need had
I'i'.'ii. e iiiM have hi Id '.at fur a lung time with a few hundred men agaiusf
all Paris
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 83
save the country. I come, surrounded by all the Generals, to
promise you their support. I appoint General Lefebvre my lieu-
tenant. I will faithfully fulfil the task with which you have en-
trusted me. Let us not look into the past for examples of what is now
going on. Nothing in history resembles the end of the eighteenth
century : nothing in the eighteenth century resembles the present
moment." The troops were mustered at the Thuilleries: Napo-
leon reviewed them amidst the unanimous acclamations of both
citizens and soldiers. He gave the command of the troops which
were to guard the Legislative Body to General Lannes ; and to
Murat the command of those sent forward to St. Cloud. He
deputed Moreau to guard the Luxembourg with 500 soldiers of
the 86th regiment, whom he placed under his orders ; but at the
moment of setting off the men refused to march from their want of
confidence in Moreau, and Buonaparte was obliged to harangue
them before they would obey. The news that Napoleon was at the
Thuilleries, and that he was invested with the supreme command,
flew like lightning through the capital. The people flocked in
crowds to see him or to offer him their services. The decree of
the Council of Ancients and an address from Buonaparte to the
citizens and to the soldiers were everywhere posted up on the
walls of Paris. He called on the former to rally round the Legis-
lative Body as the only means of ensuring union and confidence,
and he assured the latter that " liberty, victory, and peace would
soon reinstate the Republic, which had been ill-governed for two
years, in the rank which she held in Europe, and from which im-
becility and treachery were alone capable of degrading her."
The greatest agitation and uncertainty prevailed in Paris. The
friends of liberty expressed their apprehension of the ultimate de-
signs of Buonaparte, in whom they saw a future Caesar or Crom-
well ; but were answered by his partisans in the words of the
General himself, who designated the parts they had played as
•' bad parts, parts worn oat, unworthy of a man of sense, even if
they icere not so of a man of honor. It would be nothing less than
a sacrilegious ambition that would attempt any such enterprise as
that of overturning a representative government in the age of light
and liberty. He must be a madman who should, in mere wanton
ness of heart. lose the wager of the Repmblic against royalty, aftf
84 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
having maintained it with some glory and at some risk" These
words might be supposed to convict the person to whom they are
attributed of the rankest hypocrisy, if the heart were not deceit-
ful above all things, or if it were not true that men often dare not
avow their intentions to themselves till they are ripe for execution,
or scarcely know what they are till they have been crowned with
success. The reproaches he addressed to Bellot, Barras's Secre-
tary, were more in character, more consonant with his past ser-
vices and future designs : " What have you done with that France
which I left you so splendid ? I left you peace, and I find you at
war: I left you victory, and I find defeats: I left you the spoils
of Italy, and I find everywhere oppression and misery. What
have you done with a hundred thousand Frenchmen whom I
knew, all of them my companions in glory ? They are dead.
This state of things cannot last; in three years it would lead us
to destruction. According to some, we shall all be shortly ene-
mies to the Republic — we who have preserved it by our efforts
and our courage. We have no occasion for better patriots than
the brave men who have shed their blood in its defence !" Napo-
leon now sent an aide-de-camp to the Guards of the Directory, for
the purpose of communicating the decree to them, and enjoining
them to receive no orders but from him. The Guards sounded to
horse ; the commanding officer consulted the soldiers, who an-
swered with shouts of joy. At this very moment an order from
the Directory arrived, contrary to that of Napoleon ; but the sol-
diers, obeying no orders but his, marched to join him. Sieves
and Roger Ducos had been ever since the morning at the Thuil-
leries. It is said that Barras, on seeing Sieves mount his horse,
was much amused at the awkwardness of the unpractised eques-
trian, little suspecting the event of this day's proceedings. Being
shortly after apprised of the decree, Barras consulted with Gohier
and Moulins, the latter of whom proposed to send a battalion to
surround Buonaparte's house; but finding no means of executing
their threats, as their own Guards had deserted them, both Gohier
and Moulins went to the Thuilleries and gave in their resignation,
as Sieves arid Roger Duces had already done. Talleyrand
hastened to inform Barras of what had just taken place, and
having done the same, he was removed under a guard of honof
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 83
to his estate at Gros-Bois. The Directory was thus dissolved,
and Napoleon remained master of the field.
Cambacercs, Fouche, and the other ministers repaired to the
Thuilleries, prepared to act under the new authority. Fouche
had given directions for closing the barriers and preventing the
departure of couriers and stage-coaches. Buonaparte disap-
proved of this. " Wherefore," he asked, " all these precautions?
We go with the opinion of the nation, and by its strength alone.
Let no citizen be interrupted, and let every publicity be given to
what is done !" The majority of the Five Hundred, the minority
of the Ancients, and the leaders of the Manege spent the night of
the 18th in consultation. At a meeting at the Thuilleries, Sieyes
proposed that the forty principal leaders of the opposition should
be arrested. This recommendation savored too much of caution
or of fear to be relished by Napoleon, though he afterwards had
reason to think Sieyes was right. It was at this meeting that the
appointment of three Provisional Consuls was agreed upon, as well
as the adjournment of the Councils for three months. Their seve-
ral parts were also assigned to the leaders in the Two Councils for
the next day.
On the 19th the Deputies met at St. Cloud. Sieyes and Du-
cos accompanied Buonaparte to this new field of battle, to assist
him with their encouragement or advice ; and Sieyes remained
during the whole day in his carriage at the gate of St. Cloud,
prepared to act as circumstances should require. The Orangery
was allotted to the council of Five Hundred, and the Gallery of
Mars to that of the Ancients ; the apartments since known by
the name of the Saloon of the Princes and the Empress's Cabinet
were prepared for Napoleon and his staff. Though the workmen
had been busily employed the whole of the preceding day, it was
two o'clock before the place assigned to the Council of Five
Hundred could be got ready. This delay produced some mur-
muring and inconveniences. The deputies who had been on the
spot since noon, formed groups in the garden, grew warm and ani-
mated, and encouraged one another in their opposition to the new
measures. The General-in-Chief traversed the courts and the
apartments, and giving way to the ill-disguised impatience of his
character, was heard to declare, " I will have no more fictions,
8
86 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
all that must cease absolutely !" more in the authoritative tone
of the master than of the servant of the state.
As soon as the sittings opened, which they did to the sound of
music playing the Marseillois, Emile Gaudin, one of the Five
Hundred, ascended the tribune, painted in alarming colors the
dangers of the country, and proposed thanks to the Council of
Ancients for the measures of public safety which it had taken, at
the same time inviting them by message to explain themselves
more fully on the means of saving the Republic. This motion
became the signal for the most violent tumult; from all sides of
the hall loud cries of disapprobation were directed against Gau-
din : the speaker in the confusion was hurled violently to the
bottom of the tribune. The ferment was excessive. The repub-
lican party surrounded the tribune and the chair where Lucien
Buonaparte presided. Cabanis, Boulay de la Meurthe, Chazal,
Gaudin, Chenier, and others who were chiefly concerned in the
success of the day, grew pale and uneasy in their seats. After
a long and violent uproar, during which no one could make him-
self heard, silence was restored for a moment, and Del bred pro-
posed to renew the oath to the Constitution of the year III. The
Chamber from this proceeded to the Appel Nominal, each mem-
ber by turns answering to his name and giving his vote at the
same time. During the Appel Nominal reports of what was
passing reached the capital. The leaders of the SoctfM du
Man&ge, the Iricoteuses were all in motion. Jourdan and Au-
gcreau, who had hitherto kept out of the way, believing Napo-
leon lost, hastened to St. Cloud. Augereau, drawing him aside,
said, "Well, here you are in a fine situation!'"' "Remember
Arcole," replied Xapoleon ; " matters then appeared much worse.
Take my advice, and remain quiet for half an hour, and you will
see things take a dillerent turn."
The Assembly appeared to declare itself with so much unanim-
ity, that no deputy durst, refuse to swear fidelity to the Constitu-
te :i. which would have been capital in the circumstances: even
Lucien was compelled to take the oath. Shouts ami cries of ap-
probation were heard throughout the Chamber. Many members
in taking the oath, added observations which might have a dan-
gerous influence on the troops. No time was to be lost. Na-
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 87
poleon crossed the Saloon of Mars, entered the Council of Ancients,
and placed himself at the bar, opposite to the President. Every
thing would be to be dreaded, should the latter Assembly winch
was favorably inclined to him, catch by infection the tone of the
Council of Five Hundred. "Representatives of the People," he
said, " you are here in no ordinary circumstances ; you stand on a
volcano. Yesterday 1 was living in privacy, when you sent for
me to notify to me the decree of the removal of the Councils, and
to charge me to see it executed. I instantly collected around me
my companions in arms ; we have flown to your succor. But to
day 1 am loaded with calumnies: they talk of Csesar, of Crom-
well, of a military despotism. If I had wished to oppress the li-
berties of my country, I should not have listened to the orders
which you have given me : nor should I have needed to receive
this authority at your hands. More than once (and under the
most favorable circumstances) have I been called upon to assume
tin 1 sovereign power. After our triumphs in Italy, I was invited
to it by the voice of my comrades, of those brave men who have
been so ill-used since. But I declined doing so, because T did
nut think my interference required by the situation of the country.
I swear to you, Representatives of the People, the country has no
more zealous defender than myself; but it is to you that it must
look for safety. Danger presses, and disasters come thick upon
us. The minister of Police has just informed me that several
fortified places have fallen into the hands of the Chouans. There
is no longer a Government; four of the Directors have tendered
their lesignation; the fifth (Barras) is under surveillance. The
Council of Five Hundred is divided, and influenced by agitators
and turbulent men. who would bring back the time of revolution-
ary tribunals, and who are now sending out emissaries to instigate
Paris to revolt. Fear not, Representatives, these criminal pro-
jects ; surrounded by my brethren in arms. I shall find means to
protect you from their violence. I desire nothing for myself, but
that von would save the Republic; and as you cannot make the
Constitution, abused as it has been, respected, that you would at
least preserve the Inundation on which it rests, liberty and equal-
ity. You have only to speak the word, and your orders shall be
obeyed. And you, brave grenadiers, whose caps I observe at the
S8 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
doors of this hall, whom I have so often led to victory against the
satellites of kings, I who am now accused of being hostile to liberty,
say, did I ever break my word to you, when in the camp, in the
midst of privations, I promised you victory and plenty, and when
at your head I led you from conquest to conquest ? Now say,
was it for my own aggrandizement, or for the interest of the Re
public ? And let those who talk of outlawing me, beware how
they draw that condemnation on themselves. Should some orator
in foreign pay propose such a measure, I should appeal to you,
my friends, and to my own good fjrtune.'"'
The General-in-Chief in thus appealing to his men, spoke with
evident emotion ; and the grenadiers, waving their caps and
brandishing their arms in the air, with one accord testified their
assent. Upon this Linnet, one of the most resolute members,
rose and said : " General, we applaud what you say ; swear then
with us obedience to the Constitution of the year III. winch can
alone save the Republic." This proposition took the Council by
surprise, and Buonaparte was for a moment disconcerted by it ;
but he recovered himself presently, and said : " The Constitution
of the vear III. ? you have it no longer. You violated it on the
13th of Fructidor ; you violated it on the 20th of Floreal : you
violated it on the 30th of Prairial. The Constitution is a mockery
invoked by all parties, and infringed by them all in turn. It can-
not be effectively appealed to, since it has the respect of no per-
son. The Constitution once violated, it is necessary to have re-
course to a new compact, to other guarantees." The Council ap-
plauded the reproaches which Buonaparte thus threw out against
it, and rose in sign of approbation. Cornudet and Regnier spoke
warmlv to the same effect. A member of the opposition party
denounced the General as the onlv conspirator against public
liberty. Napoleon interrupted the orator, by declaring that lie
wns in the secret of every party, and that all despised the Consti-
tution of the vear 111. alike, the onlv difference being that some
d"sired to have 1 a moderate Republic, in which all the national in-
terests and all property should be respected, while others wanted
a revolutionary government, with a renewal of all the disorders
tliev had gone through. At this moment Napoleon was informed
that the Nominal Appeal was terminated in the Council of Five
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 89
Hundred, and that they were endeavoring to force the President
Lucien to put the outlawry of his brother to the vote. Napoleon
immediately hastened to the Five Hundred, entered the Chamber
with his hat off, and ordered the officers and soldiers who accom-
panied him to wait at the door : he was desirous to present him-
self at the bar, to rally his party, which was numerous, but which
had lost all unity and resolution. When Napoleon had advanced
alone across one-third of the Orangery, two or three hundred mem-
bers suddenly rose, crying, " Death to ihe tyrant ! Pown with
the Dictator !" Several members advanced to meet him, and
Bigonet, seizing him by the arm, said, " What are you thinking of,
rash man ? Withdraw ; you profane the sanctuary of the laws."
Buonaparte stopped, and turned round : and the grenadiers, seeing
what was passing, rushed forward and forced him out of the
chamber. In the confusion one of them, named Thome, was
slightly wounded by the thrust of a dagger.
The absence of the General did not restore quiet. All the
members spoke at once, every one proposed some measure of pub-
lic safety and defence. They loaded Lucien Buonaparte with re-
proaches ; the latter justified his brother, but with hesitation. He
at length succeeded in mounting the tribune, and appealed to the
Council to judge his brother with less rigor. He assured them
that he entertained no designs contrary to liberty — he recalled his
services. But several voices cried out, " lie has forfeited all his
claims :" the tumult became more violent than ever, and they de-
manded the outlawry of General Buonaparte. " What !" ex-
claimed Lucien, "do you wish me to pronounce the sentence of
outlawry against my brother, the saviour of his country! of him
whose very name makes kings tremble ?" — " Yes, yes, it is the re-
ward of tyrants." It was then proposed and put to the vote in
the midst of all this disorder, that the Council should be declared
permanent, and should repair instantly to its place of meeting in
Paris ; that the troops assembled at St. Cloud should bo con-
sidered as forming part of the guard of the Legislative Body,
and the command given to General Bernadotte. Lucien. con-
founded by so many propositions, and by the vote oi outlawry
which he thought was adopted among the rest, quitted the chair,
mounted the tribune, and called out in a state of the greatest agi-
»0 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
iation, " Since I can no longer obtain a hearing in this assembly,
I lay aside with the deep feeling of insulted dignity the symbols
of the popular magistracy." Saying this, he stripped himself of
his cloak and his President's scarf.
Meanwhile, Buonaparte had some difficulty, on coining out of
the Council of Five Hundred, in recovering from his embarrass-
ment. Little accustomed to scenes of popular violence, he hud
been a good deal staggered. This is easily understood, for no
man has more than one kind of courage, namely, in those things
in which he is accustomed to feel his power and see his way
clearly. Even our habitual confidence and success in other
things operate as a drawback rather than otherwise, for we are
the more struck with the contrast and the want of our usual re-
sources, and exaggerate every trifling impediment into a serious
objection. His officers formed a circle round him ; and Sieves,
more seasoned to revolutionary storms, sent to advise the instant em-
ployment of force. General Lefebvre directly received orders to
bring off Lueien from the Council. A detachment of soldiers en-
tered the hall, advanced towards the chair, of which Lueien had
again taken possession, enclosed him in their ranks, and saying, " It
is your brother's orders' 5 (for he was at first surprised at their ap-
pearance,) returned with him in triumph into the midst of the
troops. As soon as Lueien was at liberty, he got on horseback
by th'' side of Ids brother, and though strippi d of his legal title,
still harangued the troops as President, lie declared that the
majority of tin:' Live Hundred were intimidated and prevented
from coming to anv regular deliberation by a handful of assassins.
Raising his powerful voice, lie exclaimed. " General, and you sol-
diers, and all you who are citizens, you will recognize as legisla-
tors of France only those who are willing to follow me. As to
those who shall remain in the Orangery, let them be expelled bv
toree. Those banditti, armed with poniards, are no longer the
Representatives of the people!" After this furious philippic,
Buonaparte took up the discourse : "Soldiers," he said. " I have
li d you to victory ; may 1 rely upon you ? ' — "lies, yes ; long
live our General !" '-Soldiers, there was reason to believe that
the Council of Five Hundred would save the country : on tho
contrary, it is given up to dissensions within itself; turbulent and
THE EIGHTEENTH OF ERUMAIRE. 9]
designing men are trying to direct all its rage against me. Sol-
diers, can I rely on you ?" — " Yes, yes !" " Well, then, I
am about to bring them to reason :" and so saying, he gave
orders to some superior officers about him to clear the Hall of* the
Five Hundred.
The Council, after the departure of Lucicn, was given up to
the most cruel anxiety and most lamentable indecision. Some
members proposed to return to Paris in a body, and throw them-
selves on the protection of the people ; others were for waiting
the issue and setting at defiance the violence witli which they
were threatened. While these discussions were going on, a troop
of grenadiers entered the hall, proceeded slowly up it, and the
officers commanding it notified to the Council the order to disperse
itself. The deputy Prudhon reminded the officer and the soldiers
of the respect due to the Representatives of the People ; General
Jourdan also pointed out the enormity of their present proceeding.
The troops hesitated a little, but a reinforcement entered in close
column with General Leclerc at its head, who said aloud, " In the
name of General Buonaparte, the legislative corps is dissolved ;
let all good citizens retire. Grenadiers, forward !" Cries of in-
dignation rose from all parts of the hall, but they were stifled by
the sound of the drums. The grenadiers advanced, occupying
the whole width of the Orangery, slowly and presenting bayonets.
They thus drove the Legislative body before them, who withdrew
amidst cries of Long Jive the Republic ! At half-past five o'clock,
19th of Brumaire (10th of November), there was no longer any
representation of the people.
About one hundred deputies of the Council of Five Hundred
rallied and joined the Council of Ancients, who had witnessed the
foregoing scene of military violence with some uneasiness, but were
soon satisfied with the explanations that were given. At eleven at
night the two Councils re-assembled ; and two Committees were
appointed to report upon the state of the Republic. On the mo-
tion of Berenger, thanks to Napoleon and the troops were carried.
Boulay de la Meurthe in the Five Hundred, and Villetard in the
Ancients, stated the situation of the country and the measures
necessary to be taken. The law of the 19th of Brumaire was
passed, which adjourned the Councils to the 1st of Ventose fol-
9!l LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
lowing ; and authorized two Committees of twenty-five members
each to represent the Councils ad interim. These Committees
were also instructed to prepare a civil code. A Provisional Con-
sular Commission, consisting of Sieves, Roger Ducos, and Napo-
leon, was charged with the executive power. The Provisional
Consuls repaired on the 20th at two in the morning to the Cham-
ber of the Orangery, where the Councils were then sitting. Lu-
cien, as President, addressed them in these words : " Citizen Con-
suls, the greatest, people on earth entrusts its fate to you. Three
months hence, your measures must pass the ordeal of public
opinion. Tlie welfare of thirty millions of men, internal quiet, the
wants of the armies, peace — such are to be the objects of your
cares. Doubtless, courage and devotion to your duties are requi-
site in taking upon you functions so important ; but the confidence
of our people and warriors is with you, and the Legislative Body
is convinced that your hearts are wholly with the country. Citi-
zen Consuls, we have previously to adjourning taken the oath,
which you will repeat in the midst of us ; the sacred oath of
fidelity to the sovereignty of the people, to the French Republic
one and indivisible, to liberty, to equality, and to the representa-
tive 'system." The Assembly separated, and the Consuls re-
turner! to Paris to the Palace of the Luxembourg. Thus was the
Revolution of the 18th Brumaire effected without blood, but not
without violence or falsehood.
At nine o'clock in the evening of the 19th, the news had spread
from St. Cloud throughout Paris; and the following proclamation,
signed by Buonaparte, was read by torchlight.
"Citizens! On my return to Paris I found discord pervading
every department of Government, and only this single truth unan-
imously agreed on — that the Constitution was half-destroyed,
and no longer capable of maintaining our liberties. Every
party by turns applied to me, entrusted me with its designs, dis-
closed its secrets, and solicited my support. 1 refused to be-
come the head of any faction. The Council of Ancients called
on me. 1 answered the appeal. A plan for a general reform
had been devised by men in whom the nation is accustomed to
Dehold the defenders of liberty, of justice, and of property: this
plan demanded calm, free, and impartial examination, unfettered
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 93
by influence or fear. The Council of Ancients therefore deter-
mined upon the removal of the Legislative Body to St. Cloud. It
entrusted me with the disposal of the force necessary for the main-
tenance of its independence. I deemed it due from me to my fel-
low-citizens, to the soldiers who are laying down their lives in our
ranks, to the glory purchased by their blood, to accept the com-
mand. The Councils met at St. Cloud, the troops of the Repub-
lic guaranteed safety without ; but assassins spread terror within.
The plans which were to have been brought forward were withheld ;
the majority of the Assembly was disorganized ; the most intrepid
speakers were disconcerted ; and the inutility of any sober proposi-
tion became but too evident. Indignant and grieved, I hastened to
the Council of Ancients : I entreated it to allow me to carry its de-
signs for the public good into execution. I urged the misfortunes of
the country which had suggested them. The Council seconded my
views by new testimonies of unabated confidence. I then offered
myself to the chamber of Five Hundred — alone, unarmed, my
head uncovered, as I had been received by the Ancients with so
much approbation. Instantly the daggers which had menaced
the deputies were raised against their defender. Twenty assas-
sins rushed upon me, aiming at my breast. The grenadiers of
the Legislative Body, whom I had left at the door of the Cham-
ber, hastily interposed between these murderers and myself. Ono
of these brave fellows (Thome) received a thrust with a dagger,
which pierced through his clothes. They carried me off; and
at the instant they were doing so, cries were heard, demanding
the outlawry of him who was at that very time the defender
of the law. They crowded round the President, threatening
him with arms in their hands, and requiring him to pronounce
the outlawry. Apprised of this, I gave directions for rescuing
him from their fury, and ten grenadiers of the Legislative Body
charged into the Chamber and cleared it. The factious parties,
intimidated, dispersed, and fled. The majority, relieved from
their violence, returned freely and peaceably into the Chamber,
listened to the proposals made to them ; and on due deliberation,
framed the wholesome resolutions which are about to become the
new and provisional law of the Republic. Frenchmen! you will
doubtless recognize in my conduct the zeal of a soldier of liberty,
94 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
of a citizen devoted to the republic. The principles on which se-
curity, liberty, and property depend, are restored to their due
preponderance by the dispersion of those factious men who tyran-
nized over the Councils, and who. though they have been pre-
vented from becoming the most hateful of men, are nevertheless
the most wretched."
This proclamation is one of those things in which Buonaparte
appears in the most unfavorable light, and which have afforded
the greatest handle to his enemies. It is a tissue of glaring mis-
representations or paltry and ill-disguised subterfuges. It betrays
either a panic-fear unworthy of a brave man, or a gratuitous and
barefaced hypocrisy, unworthy of an honest one. If his conduct
was called for by strong necessity, let it be justified on that
ground : if it had only ambition to plead, let it be justified by
its success ; and not in either case by a multiplication of air-
drawn daggers and womanish apprehensions, which are beneath
the dignity of public affairs, and seem more like a parody on Fal-
staff's i; ten men in buckram." than a part of serious history.
There is nothing that posterity forgive so unwillingly as a lie.
That is peculiarly their affair. The actual evil may have passed
away, but the insult to the understanding remains, and the at-
tempt to take from us the means of coming to a right judgment
causes a fresh resentment every time it is thought of. Buona-
parte appears to have boon haunted by a preposterous and fever-
ish dread of the Jacobins : and this dread showed itself not
merely in descriptions and denunciations, but in a very unwar-
rantable behavior towards them - i in after, in the business of the'
Infernal Machine. \\ by take such pains or make so great a
merit of preventing this party from declaring the country in dan-
ger a little before this period ? \\ hatever use they might have
made of such a declaration, thev were so far at least right in
thinking some strong measures and a change of system neces-
sarv ; tor Buonaparte himself resorted to the strongest of all
measures, the overthr >w i :' the < . ; ivernment, on the plea of the
dangers and distresses of the country. How then could he con-
sistently blame their reus iiiings or their object, though he might
disapprove of the m le :' e mini, t! il ct into effect, or of
the extent to which tl;e\ ::;'._'.' push it ] Thev were in fact tlte
THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE. 95
only men of active and energetic character opposed to him ir the
career of power and popularity ; and besides, he might be dis
gusted with the excesses they had already committed and which
might be renewed, and which appeared to have so little tendency
to strengthen their cause. He preferred his weapons to theirs,
not less from taste than policy. A battle gained was a new pillar
or trophy added to the Temple of Liberty : a civil massacre only
-urned it into a shambles slippery with blood, where it was unsafe
to stand and disagreeable to enter. There was certainly some-
thing repulsive and sickening in the disproportion between the
violence of the means and the stability of the end produced by
these men. Theirs was only an extreme remedy, which was to be
avoided as long as possible. Another reign of terror, followed by
another reaction (its natural consequence), could hardly have failed
to lead, by a revolting gradation, to the return of the ancient re-
gime. Buonaparte had no such ground of objection to Sieyes's party,
who were neither men of active habits nor of strong passions, and
whose line-spun theories could be easily made to give way to cir-
cumstances, and their paper constitutions pierced by the sword.
They were the ideal party, who in all cases are more intent upon
forming speculations than on realizing them, and who, thougn
they may be troublesome associates, are seldom formidable rivals.
There was a third party which Buonaparte had to keep at bay. that
of the royalists and foreign princes ; and it was his triumph over
this, and his fitness and determination to contend against it, re-
doubling blows on blows, and victories on victories, that secured
him the co-operation and good wishes of the great body of the
state and of the most constant lovers of liberty. If the Revolu-
tion had been firmly and securely established without him, and
he had erased or undermined the stately fabric, to raise his own
power upon the ruins, then he would have been entitled to the
execration of the friends of freedom, and would have received the
thanks of its hereditary enemies : but the building had already
been endangered and nodded to its fall, had been defaced and
broken in pieces by internal discord and by foreign war; and the
arch of power and ambition that he reared stood on ground for-
feited over and over again to humanity ; the laurels that he
won, and the wreathed diadem he wore, were for having during
96 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
fifteen years avenged the cause of liberty by triumphing over
its insolent and unrelenting foes, and thus shielding its sacred
name from insult. It was not till after his fall that liberty be-
came a bye-word, and that the warning voice was once more
addressed to mankind — " Discite justitiam moniti, ct non temnere
reges 1"
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 97
CHAPTER XXIII.
PROVISIONAL CONSULS.
On the morning of the 1 1th of November 1799 the new Con-
suls held their first sittings. Buonaparte took the chair and Maret
was appointed Secretary, in the room of Legarde, who had held
that situation under the Directory. Maret, a native of Dijon, who
afterwards figured as Duke of Bassano and was greatly attached
to Napoleon, was a man of mild manners and of considerable
ability. He was attached to the early principles of the Revolu-
tion, but had fled during the reign of Robespierre, and was ar-
rested by the Austrians with Semonville as he crossed Lombardy
on his way to Venice. After the 9th of Thermidor (which put
an end to the power of Robespierre) he was exchanged for
Madame, the daughter of Louis XVI., then a prisoner in the
Temple.
The first sitting of the Consuls lasted several hours. Sieves
had not been without hope that Napoleon would interfere only
with military matters, and would leave the regulation of civil af-
fairs to him ; and he was much surprised when he found that
Napoleon had formed settled opinions on policy, finance, and ju-
risprudence, and in short on all the branches of administration ;
that he supported his arguments with clearness, and was not easily
turned from his purpose. In the evening, on returning home, he
said aloud in the presence of Chazal, Talleyrand, Boulay, Rcederer.
Cabanis. and others, "Gentlemen, you have a master: Napoleon
will do all. and can do all without your assistance. In our situa-
tion, it is better to submit than to encourage dissensions which
must end in certain ruin."
The first act of Government was the new-modelling of the Min-
istry. Dubois de Crance was Minister-at-War, but was so little
fitted for or attentive to his office, that he could not furnish the
VOL. II. 6 9
US LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Consuls with a single report on the state of the Army. Berthier
was appointed in his stead, who was a month before he could col-
lect materials for drawing up a proper report. When Dubois de
Crance was asked, " You pay the army ; you can surely give us
a return of the pay ?" the answer Mas, " We don't pay it."
" You victual the army ; let us have the returns of the victualing.
office V — " We don't victual it." " You clothe the army ; let us
see the statement of the clothing?" — "We don't clothe it.'
The army at home was paid by robbing the treasury: abroad, it
was subsisted and clothed by means of requisitions, and the War-
office exercised no kind of control. The army in Holland, which
had just repulsed the English, was in good condition, as the
Dutch according to treaty, had to supply all its wants. But those
of the Rhine, of Switzerland, and Italy were in a state of lamen-
table privation and of the greatest insubordination. As soon as
the reform of the War-Department was effected discipline was
easily restored. The post of Minister of Finance was held by
Robert Lindet, who had been a member of the Committee of Pub-
lic Safetv under Robespierre, an honest man, and accounted an
able financier at a time when the true Minister of Finance was
the printer of the assignats. Lindet was succeeded by Gaudin,
afterwards Duke of Gaeta, who had been long employed in that
department. The treasury was empty : there was not where-
withal to dispatch a courier in it. Nothing came into it but
cheque's, bills, notes, schedules, and paper of all kinds, on which
the receipts of the armv had been consumed bv anticipation. The
contractors being paid in drafts themselves, drew direct lv on the
receivers, as fast as anything came into their hands ; and yet
thev did no service. The rate of interest was at six per cent.
Every source of supply was dried up; credit was in a great
measure annihilated ; all was disorder, waste and destruction.
The new minist r, Gaudin. adopted measures which put a stop to
these abuses and restored confidence. He suppressed the coin-
pulsorv loan, which had produced as bad an effect on property as
that w inch the law ol id produced on the liberty and
of the people': raided twentv-four millions of livn-s on the
sale of the domains of the 11 >usi of Orange, which France had
reserved to itself bv the treaty of the Hague ; made a saving of
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 99
two millions yearly in the collection of the direct imposts ; crea-
ted a redemption-fund, in which the receivers of taxes were obliged
to deposite a twentieth part of their receipts; and put the forest-
ands under the best regulation, from which, when properly man-
aged, the Republic was entitled to receive forty millions of livres
a year. Such was the patriotic zeal and conscientious integrity
of the new minister, that he would not go to bed or sleep a single
night, after he had received the portfolio of finance, till he had
devised a scheme for abolishing some of the most glaring abuses
ir his department. All that he did or proposed at this early pe-
riod, he strengthened and perfected during fifteen years of an
able administration. He never had occasion to withdraw any of
ms measures, because his knowledge was practical, the fruit of
long and attentive experience.
Cambaceres retained the administration of Justice, and Rein-
nard that of Foreign Affairs. Talleyrand was still unpopular,
particularly on account of his conduct in regard to America;
and besides, till the Government was established and put into an
imposing attitude, it was not the time for him to come forward as
a negociator, or to play his cards to advantage. Bourdon resigned
the Admiralty to Forfait, a native of Normandy, with a great
reputation as a naval architect, but who turned out a mere pro-
jector. The Consuls also found they had been mistaken in ap-
pointing Laplace to succeed Quinctte as Minister of the Interior.
This great geometrician proved totallv inadequate to the post that
was assigned him : he sought for subtleties in the most common
things, looked at every question in a problematical point of view,
and carried the doctrine of the infinite divisibility of matter into
the business of the state. Hitherto the official appointments made
by the Consuls had been unanimous ; their first difference of
opinion arose with respect to the Minister of Police. Fouche
had the character of being sanguinary, venal, insincere. Sieves
detested him, and considered the Government as insecure while
he presided over the Police. Napoleon wished to retain him, and
remarked that with all his faults, he had been serviceable to the
Republic. " We are creating a new era,"' he said ; " in the past
we must remember only the good, and forget the evil. Time,
habits of business, and reflection have formed many able men ana
100 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
modified many indifferent characters." This is not a just vie"*
of human nature in general, which never changes ; nor did the
present instance turn out an exception to the common rule.
Buonaparte was fond of playing with edged tools, thinking he
could turn their good qualities to account, and by dexterous
management prevent their hurting him. lie could not well part
with Fouche ; the ability was an indispensable requisite, the want
of principle was not so absolute an objection as perhaps it ought
to have been. The Department of the Posts was given to La-
foret, who had been Consul-General in America. The Poly-
technic School was then only in its infancy. The charge of it
was given to Monge, under whose direction it became one of the
most celebrated in the world, and rendered the most important
services to the country in every department, whether of peace or
war.
The new Government, in spite of its activitv and attention to
the public interest, had still many enemies to contend with.
When we do not acknowledge the right to power, the abuse of it
is the only thing that can reconcile us to it. Wise or salutary
measures in that case irritate our dislike and opposition, by ren-
dering it hopeless. Insurrections broke out in La \ endee, Lan-
guedoc and the Netherlands. The royalist party, which formany
months hail been gaining strength, was severely mortified at a
change that threatened to crush all their expectations. The
anarchists and defeated members of the Manege kept Sieves in
continual alarm, who once came in the greatest agitation and
awuke Napoleon at three in the morning, to toll him of some plot
of which the Police had just informed him. '■ Lot them come,'"'
replied the latter ; "in war as well as in love we must come to
o! ise quarters to make an end of it. It mav as -well be settled
one dav as another."' The law of the 19th of Brumaire had en-
j u'ned the Government t i provide measures for restoring the pub-
lic tranquillity. Fifty-five members had been expelled from the
Legislative Body ; and as they 'lid not desist from their machina-
tions and refused to quit Paris, thev with some other party-leaders
were sentenced to banishment, thirtv-seven to Guiana, and twenty-
mo to the island of Oleron. This decree, which was thought too
/iolent at the time, had the effect of dispersing the disaffected,
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 101'
hut was merely held in tcrrorem over them hv a while, and was
never carried into execution. By degrees the people felt assured ;
aJdresses came pouring in from every quarter; and the Govern
uient, confident of its increasing strength, did all in its power to
mitigate the rage of parties and close up old wounds. The law
of' hostages, which had been passed in July 1799, and by means
of which great numbers of individuals had been thrown into
prison, as the relations of emigrants and persons bearing arms
against the Republic, was repealed. During the ascendency of
'die Theophilanthropists (such was the power of intolerance and
the narrowness of party-spirit) little attention was paid to the dis-
tinction between refractory priests and those who had submitted
to the oaths ; some had been sent to the Isle of Rhe, some to
Guiana, some into foreign countries, and others languished in
prison. It was agreed upon as a principle by the Provisional
Government, that conscience was not amenable to the law, and
that the right of the sovereign extended no farther than to the ex-
action of obedience and fidelity.
Napoleon, who had had occasion to see and reflect much on
religious questions and on the subject of toleration both in Italy
and Egypt, lost no time in putting a stop to this species of perse-
cution, no longer called fir by the circumstances of the times. It
was decreed that ever}' priest banished or imprisoned, who would
take an oath of fidelity to the established Government, should
immediately be restored to his liberty. Within a short time after
the passing of the law. more than twenty thousand persons of this
class returned to their families. Only a few of the most bigotted
or ignorant persisted in their obstinacy and remained in exile.
At this period also, the law of the decades was repealed, the
churches were again opened to public worship, and pen-ions
were granted to persons of both sexes under religious vows, who
took the oath of fidelity to the Government. Nothing is more
difficult than to draw the line in such cases, or to know where to
stop in the nice interval between true liberality and officious in-
terference. Thus the allowing persons of both sexes to devote,
themselves to monastic vows, if their conscience pricks them,
and they so choose it, is a dictate of the true principles of tolera-
tion, it is their affair, and no business of the Government; but
a*
iOS LIFE OF NAPOLKOX.
that it is no business of the Government to encourage this sort cf
indolent seclusion by positive rewards, and to grant pensions to
those who may incline to it, seems equally certain, and a conse-
quence of the same doctrine of absolute neutrality in questions
of a theological nature. Pope Pius VI. had died not long before
at Valence, at the age of eighty-two. In passing through,
Napoleon had learnt that no funeral honors had been paid to him,
and his corpse was laid in the sacristy of the cathedral. A de-
cree of the Consuls ordered that the customary honors should be
rendered to his remains, and a marble monument raised over his
tomb. It was an homage paid by the First Consul and the
majority of the French nation to an unfortunate sovereign and
the head of the Church. So far all was well ; but persons arid
principles are closely connected together in the human mind, and
respect is seldom shown to one without an intention of favoring
the other. It is from the rare union of moderation and firmness,
that liberalitv is so apt to be suspected of something insidious,
and that favors or lenity shown to an adversary are considered as
treachery to your own party. It was on this account that the
erasure of the members of the Constituent Assembly, who had
formally acknowledged the sovereignty of the people, from the
list of emigrants, occasioned great uneasiness. " The emigrants,"
it was said, '• will return in crowds ; the royalist party will raise
its head, as it did in Fructidor ; the republicans will be massa-
cred." In virtue of this law, the excellent and blameless La
Favette, Latour-Maubourg. and Bureau de Puzv returned to
France and to the peaceful enjoyment of their property, which
had not been alienated, h was at least worth while to excite
some alarm, and even to run some risk for the purpose of restor-
ing a man like La Fayette to his country, who. in the dungeons
of Olmutz. only longed to know the success of the cause of
liberty, which was kept concealed from him ; and whose only
thought since seems to be whether any good can be done for the
cause of mankind.
It had happened some years before, that a vessel which had
"eft England for La Vendee, having on board nine persons be-
longing to some of the oldest families of France — Talmonts,
Montmorencies, and Choiseuls, had been wrecked en the coast
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 103
of Calais. These passengers were emigrants : they were ar-
rested, and from that time had been dragged from prison to prison,
from tribunal to tribunal, without having their fate decided.
Their arrival in France was not a voluntary act ; but they were
seized on account of their supposed place of destination. The)
affirmed indeed that they were on their way to India, but th*»
vessel and its stores proved that they were going to La Vendee
Without entering into that point, Napoleon conceived that thf
condition of these unfortunate people rendered them inviolable,
and that they were under the laws of hospitality. He had in
fact already decided a similar question in the year 1794, whea
as general of artillery he was engaged in fortifying the coasts ol
the Mediterranean. Some members of the Chabrillant family t
on their passage from Spain to Italy, had been taken by a corsaii
and brought into Toulon ; they were immediately thrown into
prison, and the populace, believing they were emigrants, rose
and would have mas-acred thorn. Xapoleon availing himself of
his popularity and of his influence over the cannoneers and work.
men of the arsenal, who were foremost in the disturbance, saved
tin's unhappy family. Dreading however another insurrection
"if the people, he concealed them in empty ammunition-waggons
which he was sending to the Isles of Hyeres, and by this means
they escaped. These two cases appear to be distinct : in the
latter there is not a shadow of doubt, and one ceases to wonder
that a people who had so little sense of reason or humanity as to
treat those unhappy persons as criminals, should have shown
themselves so little worthy of liberty. In the case of the passen-
gers going to La Vendee, there is a doubt whether the Govern-
ment was not authorized to treat thorn like any other declared
enemies — as if they had been English troops, for instance, thrown
upon the coast — that is, to detain them prisoners. But there is a
scab 1 of morality above the letter of the law : Buonapar'e was
right in both cases ; fir whenever there is but an excuse and an
opening for an act of magnanimity, it is right to take advantage
of it. The generosity of the behavior cannot be doubted, how-
ever the correctness of the reasoning may ; and noble and disin-
terested sentiments are the best safeguard of justice and liberty,
Sy striking at the root of all that is mean and sordid.
104 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Buonaparte in speaking of this event justly contrasts it with
the conduct of the British Government towards Xapper Tandy
and Blackwell, who after having been shipwrecked on the coast
of Norway, were seized in crossing the neutral territory of Ham-
burgh at the instigation of the British minister, and delivered up
to execution as Irish rebels. The British envoy compelled the
Senate of Hamburgh to make this unmanly surrender : " and who
would believe it," exclaims Napoleon, '• all Europe rose up to
second the command !" Who would not believe it at a time when
all Europe was drunk with the rage of social order, and deaf to
all but the siren sounds of legitimacy ? Xapper Tandy was not
at Hamburgh by choice but necessity ; he was not there taking
advantage of a neutral territory to hatch plots against the govern-
ment or to take away the life of the king of England. In the
last case. I should not have a word to say against his arrest,
though contrary to forms, and though the same Europe would
have rung with the justice of his seizure and the aggravated
enormity of his guilt. The Senate of Hamburgh had yielded on
its part to the importunity of legitimate Europe before the 13th
of Brumairc: shortly after that event, they sent a ling letter of
apology to the head of the Government, who did not admit of the
validity of their excuses. They afterwards sent a deputation to
the Thuilleries to implore oblivion, and to urge their weakness :
"You had o ic resource of weak states," said Napoleon,
"that of letting your prisoners escape.'"'
Hitherto the French (I ■■ tl id su] rted French prison-
ers in England, while the latter country supported English pris-
oners in France. Tie Consular Government succeeded in alter-
ing this arrangement which was detrimental to France ; as there
were more From :- than English, and as provisions w< re
dearer in England lhan in France. Eaeli nation became from
this time resp >nsibb' f ■ th ■ supp >rt of the pris mors it <: I
The oath of hatred to r yalty was suppressed as useless and
contrary to the maje.^ty ■ fthe Republic, whii Igi ; as
it was on all sides, stood in no nred of such support. There was
a Is i another reas in : that it wa* a< well to get rid if tl
hatred to royalty befire i f swore allowance to a new monarch, an
event which there is every gr umd to suppose Buonaparte consid-
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 105
ered as at this period very possible. It was also resolved, that
the anniversary of the 21st of January should no longer be ob-
served as a festival. Of this subject I have spoken already, nor
do I see occasion to change what I have said : on the contrary,
Buonaparte's anxiety to wash out the memory of that event only
made it more necessary that he should be reminded of it ; for in
proportion as he forgot it, the more he forgot himself and his real
and only durable pretensions. The ostensible object of the Pro-
visional Government however was to rally and unite all parties,
and to efface whatever could excite irritation or animosity. Offi-
ces were studiously bestowed on men of all parties and of mode-
rate opinions. The effect of this proceeding was visible and
instantaneous : men of all parties were disposed to rally round
the standard of what bid so fair to be a national government: he
who just before was ready to throw himself into the arms of the
emissaries of the Bourbons hesitated, and once more sided with
the country. The foreign faction was for a moment disconcerted,
but soon conceived hopes of making use of Napoleon as an instru-
ment to bring back the Bourbons; for bigotry and prejudice,
unlike reason and philosophy, never despair ; and there is no
chance, however absurd, that in their pertinacity and the servile
subjection of their imagination to their habitual convictions, they
do not catch at. Buonaparte had an interview with two of the
chief agents of this party, Hyde dc Neuville and Dandigne, the
one a young man of talent, the other a wild fanatic. They la-
bored to persuade him that his wisest course would be to restore
the old dynasty, and consolidate his own power by the help of
theirs: he strove to make use of them as instruments to gain
over the Vendean chiefs. Each finding the other inflexible, they
parted without any wish to renew the intercourse.
The troubles in Toulouse, in the South, and in Belgium were
gradually appeased, as the principles and intentions of the new
government developed themselves. Nevertheless, tiie \ endeans
and Chouans still disturbed eighteen departments of the Republic
Chatillon, their chief, had taken Nantes; and they replied to al
the proclamations of the Directory by eounter-pioclamations,
boluiy asserting their resolution to restore the throne and the
altar. But about this time a change took place in their feel
6*
106 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ings : worn out with endless struggles, alarmed at the force
which Napoleon sent against them, but still more dazzled by
his reputation, they listened to terms of accommodation. Sob
diers of fortune themselves, daring and adventurous leaders, for
the first time there was a sympathy between them and the head of
die government ; and their dislike of the cause for a time gave
way to the admiration of the man. Chatillon, Suzannet, D'Anti-
Dhamp, and the Abbe Bernier, the leaders of the insurrection on
the left of the Loire, submitted and signed a treaty with General
Iledouville at Montlueon, on the 17th of January. 1^00. Bernier
was rector of St. Lo, and exercised great influence over his flock.
He came to Paris, and attached himself to the First Consul, by
whom he was employed to negotiate the Concordat, and was after-
wards made Bishop of Orleans. Georges and La Prevelay were
at the head of the bands in Brittany, on the right of the Loire ;
Bourmont commanded those of the Maine, Frotte those of Nor-
mandy. La Prevelay and Bourmont submitted, and came to
Paris. Georges and Frotte chose to keep on the war. It gave
them an opportunity under color of political motives to indulge in
every species of licentiousness and pillage ; to lav the rich under
contribution on pretence that they were the purchasers of national
domains ; to rob tiie public coaches because they carried the dis-
patches of the state ; to break open the banking-houses, because
ihev corresponded with the Treasury. They kept up an intelli-
gence with the vilest people in the capital, the keepers of gaming-
houses and brothels, where they brought their plunder, and there
learnt how to lav their snares and ambuscades for travellers on the
road. Generals Chambarlhac and Gardanne entered the depart-
ment of the Orne at the head of two moveable columns to secure
Frotte. This young chief, who was active and full of stratagems,
was surprised at the house of Guidal, commandanl at Alonc.on,
who betrayed him. lie was tried and shot. Georges maintained
If in Morbihan with the assistance of the money and arms
winch he had received from Fugland. Attacked, beaten, and
hemmed in at Grand-Champ by General Bruno, he capitulated,
and promised to live a good and peaceable subject. He solicited
permission to be presented to Napoleon, who endeavored to make
I lie same impression on him as on some 1 other Yen.dean chiefs
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 107
but in vain. The war in the West being thus brought to a con-
clusion, many good regiments were disposable for foreign service.
The Provisional Government interfered but little with continen-
tal politics. Some uneasiness had been excited by an army
which Prussia was raising at the time of the Duke of York's
landing in Holland. Duroc, Napoleon's aide-de-camp, was dis-
patched to Berlin with a letter for the King. He had every rea-
son to be satisfied with his reception, and with the apparent dis-
position of the Cabinet. The Prussian Court was filled with the
military, who delighted to listen to the accounts of the wars
in Italy and Egypt (the truth here having almost the air of a ro-
mance) and who were also gratified that the soldiers in France
had taken the reins of the Government out of the hands of the
lawyers. Paul I. also, the autocrat of all the Russias, the most
arbitrary and self-willed of mortals, had always entertained a great
antipathy to the Revolution and the Republic; but piqued by the
opposition of the English or struck with some touches of his own
humor in Napoleon, he suddenly turned round and conceived
a vast admiration and predilection for the character of the First
Consul. Buonaparte was probably allured by these first and im-
perfect successes to hope for the establishment of a thorough
fellow-feeling and an entire amalgamation of policy and interests
with the other continental Courts.
While the state of public affairs thus continued to improve, the
labor of remodelling the Constitution drew towards an end : the
Consuls and the two Committees were incessantly employed on it.
According to law, the two Councils were to meet on the 19th of
February, 1800: the only method of preventing them was to pro-
mulgate the new constitution, and offer it to the acceptance of the
people before that epoch. The three Consuls and the two inter,
mediate Committees resolved themselves into a Committee lor
that purpose during the month of December in Napoleon's apart-
ment, from nine in the evening till three in the morning. lhiu-
nou acted as secretarv. The confidence of the Assembly ehieiiv
rested upon the reputation and experience of Sieves. The Con-
stitution that he had by him in his portfolio had been much ex-
tolled. He had thrown out some hints concerning it, which were
eagerly caught up by his numerous admirers, and which through
108 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
them found their way to the public, seeming to justify the eulo-
gium which Mirabeau passed upon him, when he said, " the si-
lence of Sieyes is a national calamity."' He had indeed made
himself known by several pamphlets which evinced thought and
acuteness. Me it was also who originally suggested to the Third
Estate the idea of declaring itself a National Assembly; he like-
wise proposed the oath of the Jeu de paumc, not to separate till
they had drawn up a Constitution ; and France was indebted to
him (as has been already observed) for its division into Depart-
ments, lie professed to have composed a theory respecting repre-
sentative government and the sovereignty of the people, full of
useful ideas, which were laid down as fundamental principles.
The Committee expected to have this long-meditated scheme laid
before them, and that they should have nothing to do but to de-
liberate upon and ratify it. At the first sitting, however, Sieves
said nothing : he acknowledged that he had a great accumulation
jf materials by him, but they were neither classed nor digested.
At the following sitting he read a report on lists of notables. He
afterwards detailed bit by bit. and letting out the grand secret by
degrees, and with a great deal of pomp and preparation, the theory
of his Constitutional Jury, and at last came to the Government.
Mons parturiens — mus nascitur. Flow different is all this from
the simplicity and ardor of a great mind in the enunciation of a
great discovery, respecting which the author, entertaining no
doubt himself, makes no mystery of it to others, and seeing it all
under one point of view and by a sort of intuition, is impatient
or 1 '.' lest they should not seize it with the same force, and is eager
to communicate the. whole of it by a single breath! The Abbe
Sieves's plans were not of this condensed or convincing descrip-
ti"ii : they were neither practical nor theoretical, neither deduc-
tions from abstract reason, nor dictates of common sense, but a
strange tissue of vague assumptions and frivolous excuses, of
general doctrines spun to the most attenuated thread or suddenly
snapped asunder at the author's pleasure or convenience, anil then
pieced together again by some idle verbiage or technical nomen-
clature. They show in as striking a degree a- almost any other
abortions of the kind the power of the mind to make plausible
arrangements of word ut meaning, and to satisfy itself with
PROVISIONAL CONSULS 109
its own pedantic trifling. This first essay, from its unsatisfactory
issue, and from the great reputation of the man, must have tended
to inspire Buonaparte with a very different opinion of the consti-
tution-mongers and ideologists of France, and have made him
indignant at having his will and power thwarted by such shadows
and mockeries of reasoning. According to the Abbe Sieyes's
alternate plan of nominal abstractions and voluntary expedients to
suspend them, all power, all sovereignty, all right originated from
and was to be acknowledged in the people ; but although it ema-
nated from them, it was not to reside there a moment; for this
title of their's to choose their own government having been recog-
nized as an undoubted and indefeasible right (pro forma) it was
for fear of any abuse or inconvenience that might result from it,
without rhyme or reason, to be instantly taken from them, and
made over to a number of persons who were to appoint another
set who were to choose their representatives and officers of gov-
ernment for them. Now all this seems going out of one's way to
lav down a plausible theoretical principle merely to overturn it in
practice, or to perplex the common practice and routine of society
bv an idle theoretical principle. If the choice of the government
or of the legislature by this intricate and artificial process is ulti-
mately to be very different from what the majority by popular
election would have come to ; why tantalize them with the mock-
ery of choosing their own governors ? If it is substantially the
same, why not allow them to exercise their natural and inherent
right without a proxy, and without a refinement in policy which
is either an impertinence or an injustice ? If the people are to be
kept in leading-strings, why compliment them with rights which
they are unfit to exercise, and why not give to their betters the
real management of the state both in appearance and reality }
\5v this lame, contradictory scheme the people would not gain
heir real friends and favorites as their guardians and attorneys in
the government ; while the government would be deprived of
some of its tried and ablest servants, who might not happen to be
included in the lists of notability. The whole is a system of eva-
sion and cross-purposes : or it is giving up the essence and vital
principle of popular government under a pretence of adhering to
the name and forms. In like manner, the Legislative Body,
10
1 10 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
when they met, were not to discuss or debate upon the laws they
were to pass, but were to vote and determine by ballot upen them
after hearing the different arguments and objections brought for-
ward by a hundred Tribunes, who were not to originate the laws
themselves, but to receive them from a Council of State named by
the government. That is to say, those who were to decide upon
the different questions and ought to be supposed the wisest and the
best judges, were not to give their reasons at all or to influence one
another's opinions, hut were to be at the mercy of a number of
noisy and professed disputants, who were to discuss in their hear-
ing and for their benefit measures, not which they had thought of,
and which, having had their source in their own bosoms and
reflections, they might be conceived to understand, hut which
were proposed to them by the government, and which thev were
to take up as a lawyer does his brief; so that in fact the govern-
ment, which is always lo iked upon with suspicion in the repre-
sentative system, would have the initiative in all laws and enact-
ments, would make the tribunate in a manner its organ : and the
)egislative or deliberating Council of the nation could only oppose
lo this lively and formidable battery of eloquence and power the
vis inertia of gravity and silence.
Again, the government was to be a government and no govern-
ment. A supreme power was to be vested in the hands of a
Grand Elector, who was to be chosen by the Senate, not accoun-
table to it, and yet removable by it at pleasure : he was to do
nothing himself, but to choose others to do every thing for him;
he was to have a consul for peace and a consul fir war, and each
v\ as to bo perfi-ctlv independent of him and of the other. That
is. in everv department of tin.' state there was to be power, but
then it c iuld d ) nothing : there was to be liberty, but then the ex-
i :i ;-,. of it was vested in some other person : there was to be in-
ch 'pend* nee. but an impossibility of mutual co-operation and con-
cert. A thing wasiiM s < i]i<-r granted than it was clogged with
some impracticable condition : a form was no sooner established
than all power of life and motion was taken from it. either from
f-ar of its abuse, or in the sheer spirit of contradiction. Sieves
came last to the last point, the Executive Government, probably
exnecting there to see an end of his shuffling and nugatory svs-
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. HI
tern. This was the capital, the most prominent part of so beauti.
ful a piece of architecture, which he approached with consider,
able tenderness, but laying prodigious stress upon it. He pro-
posed in this view a Grand Elector for life, to be chosen by the
Conservative Senate; to possess a revenue of six millions of
livres, with a guard of 3000 men, and to reside in the palace of
Versailles; foreign ambassadors were to be accredited to him,
and he was to furnish credentials to the French ambassadors and
ministers at foreign courts. All acts of government, all laws,
and all judicial proceedings were to be in his name. He was to
be the sole representative of the national glory, power, and dig-
nity : he was to nominate two consuls, one for peace, and the
other for war; but to these points his influence was to be con-
lined. It is true he was to have the power of removing the con-
suls and of replacing them by others ; but at the same time the
Senate was to be entitled, when it should deem such an exercise
of power arbitrary or opposed to the national interest, to merge
the Grand Elector. The effect of this merger was to be equiv-
alent to a removal ; the post became vacant ; but by way of com-
pensation, the Grand Elector was to have a seat in the Senate for
the rest of his life.
Napoleon had said but little in the preceding sittings, as he had
no experience in such matters. lie could only refer on this sub-
ject to Sieves, who had participated in the formation of the Con-
stitution of 1791, J 7!J:', and 1795; to Daunou, who was ac-
counted one of the principal framcrs of the latter; and to about
twenty or thirty members of the Committees, who had all dis-
tinguished themselves in legislating, and who took the greater
interest in the creation of those bodies which were to make' the
laws, inasmuch as they were to be themselves component parts of
them. But the government concerned himself; he therefore rose
to oppose this part of the plan. "The Grand Elector," lie said,
•• if he confine himself strictly to the functions you assign him,
will be the shadow, but the mere ileshless shadow of a lloi faine-
aiil. And how do you think it possible that any man, either of
the smallest talent or honor, would submit to the situation of a
fatted hog in a stye with some millions a year at his disposal?
If he should choose to abuse his prerogative, you give him obso-
1*9 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
lute power. If, for example, I became Grand Elector, when I
appointed the consul for war and the consul for peace, I would
say to them, If you nominate a single minister, if you sign a
single act without my previous approbation, I will remove you
But you reply, the Senate in its turn will merge the Grand Elec-
tor. This is worst of all ; nobody at this rate has any guarantee.
In another point of view, what will be the situation of these two
prime ministers ? One will have the ministers of justice, of the
interior, of police, of finance, and of the treasury under his con
trol ; the other those of the marine, of war, of external relations.
The first will be surrounded only by judges, administrators, finan-
ciers, men of the long robe ; the other only by epaulettes and
military men — the one will be wanting money and recruits for
his armies, the other will not furnish any. Such a government
would be a monstrous chimera, composed of heterogeneous parts,
and presenting nothing rational. It is a great mistake to suppose
that the shadow of a thing can be of the same use as the thing
itself."'
Sieves answered these objections unsatisfactorily. His plan
of a (J rand Elector (an office which he himself had probably
some design of filling) fell to the ground ; and he himself was
soon after merged in his own theories, with the estate of Crosne
voted to him as a national recompence for his many previous ser-
vices. Having strengthened the Government by taking it into
his own hands as Consul, with Cambacercs and Lebrun for his
coadjutors, Buonaparte left the representative part of the system
to shift for itself, and this was made up of the wreck of Sieyes's
Senate, Tribunate, and Legislative Body, which, however, were
chosen by the Consuls without waiting for the lists of notability ;
thus verifying Mr. Burke's sarcasm on the Abbe's Constitutions
— •• some where the electors choose the representatives, and others
when! the representatives choose the electors," &c. The Con-
stitution of the year Vllf. was published and submitted to the
people on the llUh of December, and sanctioned by three millions
eleven thousand and seven votes. The new Government was es-
tablished on the 2Mb of the same month. Buonaparte thus
trained his great object, which was to give unity and visor to the
Government; and which, whether we consider the demands of
PROVISIONAL CONSULS. 113
his own ambition or the necessities of the state, was perhaps the
principal thing. The enemies of the Revolution had prevented
it from having a happy and tranquil termination ; and all that re-
mained was to take care that they did not exult in their iniquit) ,
and profit by their own wrong. The Consular Government, how
ever arbitrary in its form, or in many of its decisions, was essen-
tially popular in its principles and objects ; for it had no other
strength to appeal to than the final approbation of the people or
of a large part of it. It was founded in no prejudice by which it
could brave the opinions and feelings of the whole community ;
and it must be some time before the head of the Consular or Im-
perial Government could take upon him to ruin the country like
a Roi faineant or as a state-privilege !
During the month of December Buonaparte's health was much
shaken. These nightly sittings and long discussions, in which he
was forced to listen to so much nonsense, wasted time that was
precious to him, yet were nevertheless in a certain degree inter-
esting to him. He remarked that many men who wrote well and
were not without eloquence, were yet entirely devoid of solidity
of judgment, and argued most miserably. He inferred from
hence that there are persons who are gifted by nature with the
faculty of writing and expressing their thoughts well, as others
are with a genius for music, painting, or sculpture. Public af-
fairs, on the contrary, require deep thought, correct discrimina-
tion, and a power of forming conclusions answering to the re-
sults of things in reality. Cambaceres, who was chosen Second
Consul, was of a noble family in Languedoc, and an able law-
yer : Lebrun, the Third Consul, was from Normandy, had for-
merly been employed by the Chancellor Maupeou in drawing up
his decrees, was distinguished for the purity and elegance of his
style, and sincerely attached to the Revolution ; to which he him-
self owed all his advantages, his family being originally of the
class of peasants.
10*
114 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE CONSULATE.
The Consuls on leaving St. Cloud, November 10th, 1799, had
taken up their residence at the Luxembourg, in the same apart-
ments which had been lately occupied by the Directory. But
the new Constitution bad raised the Consular power above tiie
other authorities of the state, and it felt itself not sufficiently at
case there to represent the majesty of the French people. The
Government, on the 19th of February, 1300, after the adoption
of the Constitution of the year VIII.. proceeded to instal itself at
the palace of the Thuilleries ; and the First Consul from that
time took up his abode there.
The procession left the Luxembourg in carriages, in full cos-
tume, witli music and a guard. It was not a brilliant display ;
there were onlv a l'>-w private carriages, the rest were hackney-
coaches, having the numbers on them covered over with paper.
.No sooner had the First Consul arrived at the Thuilleries, than
he mounted on horseback and gave a review. Afterwards each
of the ministers presented to him the different persons emploved
in his department of the state. Thus then we behold the First
Magistrate of the Republic installed in the palace where every
thin<£ still breathed the recollection of its ancient Kings. It was
iust at this moini nt that the news of the death of Washington
was received. lb' had died on the 14th of the preceding De-
■emhor, at the aye of sixtv-ei^ht years, at a private countrv-house
in Virginia, having -• i ir ; the in topendonco of his country as a
general, its liberty as a legislator, and its prosperity as a mairis-
Irate. What, it may he asked, hindered Buonaparte from imi-
;atini retreat > f General Buonaparte, could
no longer suit the chief fa great Republic. Among the ai
r val residences in the vicinity of the metropolis. St. Cloud was
most conveniently situated. 'I he inhabitants of the place pre-
sented an address to the Tribune to offer the choice of the chateau
THE CONSULATE. m
to the First Consul. He on this occasion declared to the commis-
sion appointed to make the proposal, * that he would accept of
nothing from the people during the term of his magistracy, nor
for a year after its functions had ceased ; and that if at a later
period they should think iit to apply to him the article of the
Constitution which decreed rewards to the warriors who had rem
dered signal services to the Republic, then he would accept with
gratitude the offerings of the people ; and that his intention was
in the mean time to propose it to the Legislative Body to award
recompences to the warriors who had distinguished themselves by
their high deeds and their disinterestedness, as the surest way
to stifle all the seeds of corruption and to reform the public
morals.'"' The petition was therefore simply referred to the Gov-
ernment.
The costumes and the insignia of authority underwent an alter-
ation. The Greek and Roman dresses disappeared, and were
replaced by military fashions. The First Consul had more the
appearance of a general than of a statesman ; but along with the
boots and sword he wore a coat of the French make, and it was
clearly to be seen that every thing tended to the civil side. At
the head of the acts of Government a vignette had hitherto repre-
sented the Republic in the form of a woman seated, dressed after
the antique, holding a helm in one hand, and in the other a gar-
land, with the inscription: French Republic, Sovereignty of the
People, Liberty, Equality, Buonaparte Fir-it Consul, instead of
which these words were substituted : In the name of the French
People, the French Government. The Sovereignty of the People,
Liberty, and Equality were no longer retained.
Tiie first act of Buonaparte on arriving at the Thuilleries had
been a review ; the court of the Palace became the place of ren-
dezvous for the troops. They were not idle parades. Now on
foot, now on horseback the First Consul traversed all the ranks,
m order to become acquainted with the officers and men. and to
make himself known to them. lie entered into the most minute
details respecting the equipment, the arming, the exercising, in a
word, respecting all the wants of the men and those of the service.
As General and Chief .Magistrate, he dispensed, in the name of
Jie nation, praise an J blame, distinctions and rewards. IJe tnus
118 LIFE OF rsWFOLEON.
made the army pass constantly under the observation of the people
of the capital, and of the inhabitants of the departments and strang-
ers who happened to be at Paris. This sight excited a strong
spirit of emulation among the soldiers of the different corps, and
enhanced their dignity and their value in their own eyes. In thest,
imposing displays the nation took a pride in its troops; strangers
learned to know and fear them ; all the world were struck with
admiration of them. The First Consul was here seen to great
advantage and in his proper element. lie took a real pleasure
in remaining for hours in the midst of all this military pomp,
round which an immense multitude crowded and made their ac-
clamations resound, while his ante -chambers and saloons were
thronged witli courtiers and with distinguished public characters,
who waited patiently for the favor of a word, a smile, or even a
look. These reviews afforded the First Consul a brilliant oppor-
tunity to display before the eyes of the people and the army his in-
defatigable activity, his superiority in all that related to the mili-
tary art, the source, the very essence of his glory, and to exercise
over all bosoms the irresistible ascendant of power, of energy, of
genius and fortune united in a single individual. Was the day
rainy or the sky covered with clouds? Often, as soon as the
First Consul appeared, the rain ceased, the clouds were dispersed,
the sun shone out : the multitude, always eager for the marvel-
lous, and the courtiers, prodigal of flattery, cried out that he com-
manded even the elements, or was peculiarly favored of heaven.
l\\ less than a year a striking change had taken place. Before
the 18th of Brumairo, every thing had seemed to announce a
speedy dissolution ; at present, every thing bore the stamp of pub-
lic spirit and vigor. ( hi all sides was discernible a lofty emulation
i'i whatever was good, admirable, and great. There was a real
desire to establish the new order of things; as at the commence-
)n< ut of the Revolution there had been to overturn the old one.
An approach to the object in view was no longer made by tu-
mult ami disorder; a steady hand guided the movement, traced
the route, and prevented deviations. When Buonaparte became
Consul for life, the Court was put, like his power, upon a regal
footing. This was not, however, the affair of a moment. They
comuiled new codes of etiquette, and consulted the old courtiers
THE CONSULATE. 119
and antiquated valets as to any trifling particular ; " How ought
that to be 1 how was that managed formerly ?" were the ques-
tions always asked in the interior of the palace, and a reference
was constantly made to the use and practice of the good old times.
An anecdote is told as characteristic o^ the tone that prevailed at
this period, that on some occasion the Count of Narbonne having
to present a letter to Buonaparte, instead of taking it in his hand,
placed it on his hat and advanced with it obsequiously in that po-
sition. Buonaparte at first suspected some insult, and asked the
meaning of this piece of effeminacy ; but being told that •' it was
always the way in which the Count presented a letter to Louis
XVI.," he afterwards always cited the Count of Narbonne as the
model of courtesy and politeness. There is nothing incredible in
this story ; for the greatest strength is not incompatible with the
greatest weakness in the same person. Those who wished for the
restoration of the old system, which was only a very small num-
ber, or those who were taken with show and outward appearance,
which is always the greater part of mankind, were delighted with
this return to frivolity and with the importance attached to trifles.
The change was not elfected without a sense of ridicule and awk-
wardness at first. Those who had been accustomed to the forms,
the manners, the conventional phraseology and studied politeness
of the old court, were greatly amused with the attempts of the
new one to mimic them. It was not long, however, before this
defect was remedied by practice, and the Court of the First Consul
might pretend in all respects to vie witli the most brilliant periods
of the monarchy. Here was found united whatever was most
distinguished in the different classes of society, in the arts, in the
sciences, in commerce, and in the liberal professions. There too
were to be met with a crowd of warriors, resplendent in fields of
renown, the firm and invincible defenders of tiie Republic, and
some of the most sounding names of the old nobility, who had
veiled to tin' glory with which others had covered it. Youth,
grace, beauty lent their charm; and if virtue did nut follow in
tiie train, at least there was a greater attention shown to decorum
and propriety of manners than had ever been paid to them under
tin- ancient regime. One secret grief and latent cause of un-
popularity and complaint against Buonaparte, was his detcrmma.
LIFE OF 2s"APOLEOX.
tion to suppress the licentiousness of manners that prevailed both
before and after the Revolution. He was severe, and even rude
to women who endeavored to attract notice by freedom of dres3
or behavior. It was expected that men and their wives should
appear in society together — a thing unprecedented, and contrary
to all ideas of boa ton in the good old times of religion and loyalty.
It is true, the Court had formerly taken the lead in vice and pro-
fligacy of every kind ; and the example which it had set bad, as
usual, been greedily followed by the other classes of society.
Buonaparte thought, by adopting and countenancing a different
system, to stem the tide and to bring back a greater severity and
sobriety of manners. But perhaps there was too much a tone of
authority and arbitrary will in his manner of doing it. Vice is
a plant that either grows wild or is easily reared in the hot-bed of
fashion ; virtue, which is of slower and more difficult growth,
can only be engrafted on principle and conviction. Yet notwith-
standing this rigid, marble exterior, and public homage to virtue,
Buonaparte was constantly assailed by showers of lampoons, of
which the writers and readers gratified in the most wanton man-
ner either their political hatred or the pruriency of a depraved
imagination. It was in allusion to one of these that Buonaparte
said in the Council of State, where it had been canvassed as a
subject for legal prosecution, " It contains nothing but absurdi-
ties. It appears by what is said of me, that the author does even
know mv physical constitution : he here supposes scenes of gal-
lantry and intrigue, similar to those in the time of Louis XV. I
am to be sun.' very much like those people : is it not so I I am
also made to spend enormous sums in my excursions to Malmai-
son : every bodv knows how 1 throw money out of the windows.
A violent scene is described between me and Barbe-Marbois (the
treasurer,) from whom I had demanded fifteen millions for mv
j'jurnev to Lvons, which he refused to give me, whereas it really
cost me onlv lil'iv thousand francs.'" The author of this libel, a
man of the name of Fouilloux, was arrested, and the list of his
ibi'rs and patrons was seized, among whom were the Citi-
zen Serbelloni, Ambassador from the Italian Republic, the Mar-
quis Luchcsini, Ambassador from Prussia, Count Marcoff, the
Russian Ambassador, and others, who, having invented and paid
THE CONSULATE. 121
for these stories, probably believed them themselves, when they
thought the world would receive them for undoubted truths. A
crowd of foreigners, who were then at Pans, spread these sort of
reports everywhere, and the English and German newspapers
were thus supplied with an inexhaustible fund of calumny and
abuse.
It was the Marquis Luchesini, mentioned above, who was sen,,
as Ambassador from Prussia in 1602 and on that occasion ha-
rangued the First Consul in Italian, which was thought a very
mat '-adroit piece of flattery for so consummate a courtier. Ho
had been sent previously by the King his master, in the month
of October 1800, to compliment Buonaparte on the establishment
of the Consular Government. When Monsieur de Luchesini ar-
rived, the First Consul was at Malmaison, and from a balcony sur-
veyed with attention the rich liveries of the lacqueys, and appeared
struck with the brilliancy of the orders with which the envoy was
decorated. This was remarked by those about him, and he was
heard to say, " That has an imposing effect ; such things are
necessary for the people." That might be true ; but in the pres-
ent case, the head of the people, who envied such finery, was
more the dupe of it and more a child than they.
The majority yielded to the stream ; there were notwithstand-
ing a few who opposed it, or inwardly repined to see the flower
of the talents and spirit of the nation fashioned to a new servi-
tude of idle forms and ceremonies, and the old and ridiculous
Court etiquette resumed with more alacrity than it had been laid
aside. When this small band of true and sterling patriots and
friends of mankind (there might also be a mixture of spleen and
jealousy in their motives) compared the First Consul of the vear
XI. with the First Consul of the year VIII., with the General of
the Army of Egypt, with Buonaparte, the scourge of royalty at
Toulon, on the 13th of Vendeiniaire. on the 18th of Fructidor,
with the same Buonaparte, rousing the people of Italy from their
long slavery by the sound of his victories and with the accents
of liberty, and planting other Republics by the side and in aid of
tint of France, they could not help crying out with some bitter-
ness : " Behold then tiie end of so many fine discnurses, of so
many lofty sentiments, of so many glorious exploits! Was it
vol. n. 7 11
122 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
then for this, only to retrace its steps, that the nation launched
into a new career, which it bathed with its purest blood ? What
has become of so many promises, oaths, vows, and hopes ? Are
we then, after all, no better than revolted slaves, who are doomed
to forge again with their own hands the chains which they had
broken ?" — Well was it when liberty had a voice like the turtle,
and could afford to regret the past, and compare its sanguine
hopes with their painful disappointment ; when all had not been
lost, even the right to complain ; when the performance might be
confronted with the principle, for the principle was not rooted
from the earth ; when the excesses of liberty, when the abuse of
the power it had called forth were the burthen of the song, not
Its utter extinction, defeat, and ignominy ; when, if freedom was
lost for a time, its strength and sinews were left, independence,
glory, revenge, scorn, and defiance heaped on its foes, and when
itself had not become a reproach and a scoff among the nations !
What would they have said (not the flies who flutter about every
new glare or are scattered by every blast, but men of principle
and firmness to look back to the past and forward to the future)
could they have then foreseen the final issue of all their hopes?
They could have said nothing, for men complain only of reme-
diable griefs, and are silent when the right to every good, to think,
to feel, to be, is wrested from them !
The First Consul found his residence at the Thuilleries dull,
and at the same time without convenience or liberty. lie passed
the fine weather at Malmaison. Gr< at in himself, in this unpre-
tending retreat he appeared still greater. There, and long after,
at St. Cloud, of which he took" possession of his own accord, a
year after he had capriciously refused it as a free gilt from the
people, his conversation formed the delight of those who knew
him. The evenings passed there were evenings worthy of the
Clods. The scene resembled the famed Gardens of Alcinous or
some of the enchantments of Ariosto's pen. and is still remem-
bered by those who were admitted to it. as a dream, a gorgeous
shadow that has passed from the earth. Buonaparte took the lead
in conversation, and it will appear in the course of this work that
he had a right to do so. The man laid aside the ruler, and losi
nothing by it. There was that striking union of personal desert
THE CONSULATE. 123
and exalted station which is so rarely to be met with ; and is as
enviable as it is rare. The subjects touched upon were of the
most imposing kind ; and what a tone they must have received
from the speakers ! Buonaparte had lost by degrees all the taci-
turnity and reserve of his vouth ; his manner had become frank,
communicative, unreserved and free in the highest degree. When
he had a part to act in public, he did so ; but in private, he de-
lighted to throw oil all disguise and pretension, and was perfectly
natural and simple. His discourse, though generally serious and
earnest, had a great attraction, for it was original, profound, char-
acteristic, and full. It was never obscure, feeble, or vague,
though often carried to excess ; but then it was from the strength
of will and conscious power of the speaker. The greatest inter-
est was excited wherever lie came. The audience listened to and
caught up witli avidity his slightest words ; and no wonder, when
they had an echo through Europe and were almost a law to the
world. Though not stiff or pedantic, he gave a preference to the
society of men of science, both from the importance of their pur-
suits, and as they afforded a relief to political topics and feelings.
On this account Laplace, Monge, Berthollet, Lacepede, Chaptal,
were often admitted to long conversations witli him, nor did a dis-
tinction so well merited excite any jealousy. Sometimes he re-
laxed so far as to join in the country-dances in the little balls
which were given on Sundays at Alalmaison. lie acquitted him
self but indifferently, embroiled the figure, and always called lor
the Monaco, as the easiest, and the one which he danced the least
badly.
The Chief Consul showed most grace and personal dignitv in
exercising the troops. He looked well in uniform, and was per-
fectly at home on these occasions ; still in giving his common
audiences, there was something imposing about him. He under-
stood the art of making a man six feet high, who was Aot other
wise disposed to do so, stoop to him, or could assume a lottv port
which left the tallest persons no advantage over him. Duroc
had given notice that in future the Thuilleries would be open onlv
on the loth of every month, and the First Consul would give
audience at St. Cloud every Sunday after hearing mass. These
audiences were very numerous, and lasted several hours. Thev
124 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
were composed of cardinals, bishops, senators, counsellors of
state, deputies, tribunes, generals, ambassadors, magistrates, pri-
vate gentlemen and distinguished foreigners, royalists and repub-
licans, nobles and plebeians, whatever there was most conspicu-
ous either among the French or other nations, all confounded to-
gether and on a looting of equality. The First Consul addressed
almost every one. Some times occasion was taken to introduce
private affairs ; those showed most wisdom who confined them-
selves to merely paying their court.
From the audiences of the First Consul, it was the custom to
go to that of Madame Buonaparte. She had the foreign ladies of
distinction presented to her. Already the names of Zamoiska,
Potowski, Castel-Forte, Dorset, Gordon, Newcastle, Cholmondeley,
Dolgorouki, Galitzin were seen on the list ; for persons of the
highest rank in Europe ^vere proud to do homage to the First
Consul and his wife. Three days in the week a dinner was
given to twelve or fifteen persons : and on these days Madame
Buonaparte saw company in the evening. The circle, at first
small, grew more numerous by degrees. There were a few card-
tables set out for form's sake ; and the First Consul, who gene-
rally made his appearance, sometimes sat down at one of them.
There was less restraint at Malmaison than at Sc. Cloud ; the eti-
quette became the stricter with the enlargement of the place.
The First Consul did not merely make choice of St. Cloud in
preference to Malmaison, as a summer residence ; he remained
there in the autumn and part of the winter, till the bad weather
drove him into Paris. His object was in part bx secluding him-
self here to be less in view, more difficult of access, and to sur-
round himself with the mysteriousness of greatness. Every
thing around him hastened fast to become a copy of Versailles
and of all other courts, with a reserve however of certain essen-
tial differences.
One thing that formed a strong objection to the morning audi-
ences at St. Cloud, was the mass that preceded them. Many of
those who had to attend the First C nsul hated the priests; most
were indifferent to the worship itself; no one approved this kind
of mockery of it. For nothing could be more artificial or theatri-
cal — the actresses of the Opera being regularly hired to sing the
THE CONSULATE. 125
praises of God. Neither was there room for three-fourths of the
visitors, who formed groups and loitered about in the galleries.
The First Consul, mortified at this luke-warmness, had the ser-
vice performed an hour sooner than usual, saying that " it was to
excuse those who had no inclination lo attend it."
By degrees, the dresses of the court changed almost entirely.
The sword and silk-stockings succeeded to the sabre and military
boots. The First Consul, who never appeared but in uniform,
had on the celebration of the 14th of July, 1801, worn a dress of
red Lyons silk embroidered, but without ruffles and with a black
stock. This dress seemed oddly chosen ; nevertheless he was
complimented upon it, all but the stock. He laughed and said,
" There should be always something that has a military look ;
there is no harm in that." — Gaudin, Minister of Finance, was
one of the first who came lo the audience at St. Cloud with his
hair in a bag, and with lace. They followed this example by
little and little to please the First Consul ; but the attempt to re-
turn to the old fashion was for some time a real masquerade.
One wore a cravat with a full-dress coat, another a stock with a
plain coat, a third a bag, a fourth a cue ; some had their hair
powdered, the greater number were without powder; there
were only no wigs. All these trifles were become important
affairs. The old-fashioned hair-dressers were at war with the
new. Every morning they looked at the head of the First Con-
sul : if he had been once seen with powder, it would have been
all over with one of the most healthy and convenient fashions in-
troduced by the Revolution ; hair in its natural state would have
been exploded. This grave matter was agitated in the discus-
sions of the ushers in waiting ; but the First Consul could nn
make up his mind to this reaction, and every one was left at
liberty to wear his hair as he liked. It was understood, howevei ,
to be more decent and more agreeable to the First Consul to wea ■
powder and the hair tied, fie had no objection to making othei :
into puppets and pieces of costume, though be did not choose t>
become so himself. So amidst all the frippery of outward formr,
lie retained the same stern simplicity of character and self-posses
sion. Foreigners in general, and particularly the English, who
had tiieir hair cropped and went abroad without powder, when
126 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
they appeared at court powdered their heads and fastened a bag
to the collar of their coats.
The women who inclined to the ancient regime out of vanity
and love of change, were, notwithstanding, the declared enemies
of powder: they had their reasons. They trembled that the re-
form of dress should reach them, and that they might finish witn
large hoop-petticoats, after beginning with hind-curls and toupets.
They worn not unfounded in these conjectures, for the dowagers
of the court of Louis XVI. maintained that no one could have the
court-air with the Greek and Roman dresses, and that the cor-
ruption of manners was to be dated from heads a-la-Titus, and
drapery displaying the shape. Madame Buonaparte was at the
head of the opposition on this occasion : it belonged to the most
graceful and elegant woman of the court to defend taste and good
sense against the inroads of prescriptive barbarism. She hated
every kind of restraint and ostentation. She often repeated her
favorite saying: " How all this fatigues and annovs me! I have
not a moment to myself. I was meant to be the wife of a laborer !"
This simplicity of character and feeling was not confined to dress :
she manifested the same unaffected modesty and good sense in re-
sisting the encroachments of pomp and power; and in parting
with her, Buonaparte lost his better genius. In this, it has been
said, she had her own private ends to answer; but if her conduct
had not also arisen from her natural character and from a regard-
to others, she would have been dazzled by the immediate gran-
deur, and would have overlooked remote and possible conse-
quences. The heart gives better counsel than the head ; for true
friendship quickens our sense of the real interests of those we love.
Buonaparte seldom entered into long conversations with women ;
nor did the severity of his character easily descend to gallantry.
There were some to whom he took an aversion, occasionally with
reason, and often with no other reason than that they had dis-
pleased him. lie sometimes paid them awkward compliments
on their dress or their adventures ; it was one. way of censuring
their manners. There was now and then a talk of his attachment
to some women of the court; but. these were caprices of the mo-
ment, and those to whom he showed most partiality had no influ-
ence over him, at least in state-affairs. He was really fond of
THE CONSULATE. 127
no one but Josephine, notwithstanding the disproportion of years
between them. Towards her lie was now jealous and severe,
now tender and confiding. She answered with her whole heart
to the fondness of her husband ; she supported his humors pa-
tiently, but could never reconcile herself to his infidelities. On
the whole they lived very happily together. He was persuaded
that he owed his happiness to her, and she felt in the same man-
ner towards him. She had gone to drink the waters of Plom-
bieres in Messidor, in the year X. : he grew weary of her ab-
sence, and wrote her the most affectionate letters. When she
returned, he went part of the way to meet her, loaded her with
caresses, and brought her back in triumph to Malmaison.
In courts governed by women, the prevailing tone is to be in-
triguing, light, and vain. Something worse than all this was to
be found in the history of the past. The greater part of those
who formed the court of the First Consul, not having been early
fashioned in a frivolous school of manners, discovered their natural
disposition, which was moral and good. Buonaparte wished for
a certain decorum and gravity tempered with elegance, politeness,
and grace : Madame Buonaparte set an example of all this. It
was no longer the custom for men to boast of their excesses or to
hold up their vices to admiration as models of courtly refinement
and of the sacoir vivrc. The Revolution had undoubtedly tended
to improve the morals : but should the prejudiced or ill-informed
De disposed to dispute this, they cannot deny that at least it had
produced a greater deference to public opinion and attention to
appearances. The First Consul more than once carried his so-
licitude on this point to severity, lie had no children of his own,
but showed every mark of attention and kindness to those of his
wit'.' by her former marriage. They justified his regard by their
excellent qualities and their attachment. Eugene Beauharnais
was full of honor, faithful, and brave ; Hortense was mild, amiable,
and affectionate. By uniting her in marriage to his brother Louis,
the First Consul thought to reconcile his political views with the
happiness of his step-daughter. In the midst of the reveries which
floated in his mind respecting the stability and foundation of his
dynasty, he had little hope of heirs direct, and this marriage pro-
mised to supply them collaterally. Neither Lucien nor Joseph
128 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Buonaparte at all relished the match. Hortense became the
mother of a boy. Rumors without any foundation, and quite ab-
surd to those who knew any thing of the persons, were spread
abroad on this occasion. This child was pointed out. by puhiic
opinion as the presumptive heir to the Consular Power; but he
died a ihxv years after, to the great mortification and chagrin of
Buonaparte, who wished to adopt him as his successor. In the
course of these pages will he seen his opinions and arguments on
the subject of the law proposed respecting adoption ; and the ex-
travagance and almost frenzy to which he worked himself up in
endeavoring by u mew fiat of the will to place the child of adop-
tion in the same degree of proximity as the child of the same blood
and bone^ will prove to a demonstration to all those who have the
least insight into character or human nature, that he was not, as
had been grossly pretended, the father of the child by a spurious
connexion.
The First Consul could not set up pretensions to he a perfect
equestrian, though on horseback he was daring to imprudence.
Nor could it be said of him, according to the poet, that he " ex-
celled in guiding a chariot to the goal."* One day he was
resolved to display his skill in the park of St. Cloud, by driving
a calash four-in-hand, in which were Madame Buonaparte, her
daughter, Madame Duroc, Joseph Buonaparte, and the Consul
Cambaceres. At the gate which separates the garden from the
park, he struck against a post, lost his balance, and was thrown
oil' to a considerable distance. lie strove to rise, fell down again,
and lost, his recollection. The horses in the moan time, which
.had run away with the carriage, were stopped, and the ladies
were lifted out almost ready to faint. With some difficulty the
First Consul came to himself, and continued the ride, but inside
the carriage. [Tchad received a slight contusion on the chin,
and the right wrist had been a little hurt. On returning home,
he said, ' ; 1 believe every one ought to keep to his own profes-
sion." lie hail Laplace. Monge, and Berthollet to dine with him.
He conversed with them the whole evening, as if nothing had
happened. Nevertheless, he owned that lie never thought him-
self so near death as at this moment. Madame Buonaparte con-
* " II cxcello b. conduiro im char clans la curricre."
THE CONSULATE. 1V9
tinned extremely ill , and said in the course of the evening, " \*
the instant of his fall, Buonaparte had his eyes turned inwur...
and I thought he was dead. He has promised never to run tht
same risk again. He has often been blamed for his extreme care-
lessness on horseback ; he frightens every one who accompanies
him. Corvisart has been called in ; he did not think it necessary
to let blood. The First Consul wishes that this accident should
not be talked of."
A like accident is related to have happened to Oliver Crom-
well. He had received as a present from a German prince, a
set of six horses, remarkable for their beauty and swiftness.
Having gone with his secretary, Thurloe, to take a ride in Hyde
Park, in a light carriage drawn by these horses, he took it into
his head to drive them himself, not thinking it would be more
difficult to manage half a dozen horses than to govern three king-
doms. But the horses, spirited and untraceable under the hand
of their new driver, grew restive and ran away with the car
nape, which was soon overturned. In his fall, a pistol which
Cromwell had about him went oil" without wounding him. The
Protector was taken up, stunned and bruised with his fall, but
less hurt than Thurloe. — If this is any thing more than a mere
casual coincidence, it might seem as if usurpers, or those who
have seized the reins of government into their own hands, have
an ambition to be charioteers, where there is a sense of power,
and of a difficulty and dexterity in directing it. Legitimate
rulers, from Nimrod downwards, have been remarked to have a
passion tor hunting, where they are carried along by a violerD
borrowed imDulse and seem like the natural lords of the creation
7*
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXY.
DIFFERENT POLITICAL PROJECTS AGITATED IN THE COUNCIL OK
STATE.
We have hitherto chiefly seen Buonaparte either at the head
of armies, or acting in public with the eclat, the authority, and
sense of responsibility, which bis situation implied. A work of
great authenticity, candor, and ability, lately published, enables
us at present to view him in an intellectual undress, without (lis-
guise or parade, with his thoughts rising to his lips as they rose
in his mind, with his projects half formed and growing to matu-
rity, and contending with bis confidential friends and counsellors
in the most perfect freedom and in downright earnest, about, the
reasons and propriety of their adoption or rejection. Few per-
sons in history, who have acted a conspicuous part in the world,
would bear this mental exposure and comparison so well. There
is no loss, but rather an increase of the idea of sterling sense and
talent ; nor is there much abatement of striking effect. It is like
a fine portrait after a number of vile caricatures. There is a.
masterly display of inexhaustible activity, vigor, and subtlety,
joined with great singularity, simplicity, and even naivczc.
There are some touches so dramatic; as to lav open the whole
secret of his conduct, and to show that his greatness or his weak-
nesses, ln's good or evil fortune, were not in his own power, but a
consequence of the inbred and invincible bias of his character.
lie formed in this respect a species bv himself, utterly distinct from
modern effeminacy or Kuropean civilization. There is an adust
fibre, a heat of blood evidently borrowed from the Kast. lie was
a Tamerlane or Gengis Khan, dropped not only in the vortex
of 'he Revolution, which was nut amiss, but in the centre of
1'aris, the most unfortunate situation into which a great man
could fall.
COUNCIL OF STATE. 131
I shall throw together in this chapter and the following, his
opinions and arguments on the Lists of Notability, the Legion of
Honor, the Concordat, Schools, the Colonies, and the Law of Di-
vorce, which will a little anticipate the order of time ; but will, I
hope, decide the reader's judgment of the real dimensions and struc-
ture of his mind, and serve to explain and open out his political
views and principles. I shall also take this opportunity to make
some remarks and enter a protest of my own on these subjects.
The First Consul showed little partiality to the Lists of Nota-
bility, which were brought forward in the Council of State (14th
Pluviose, year IX.) and which were designed to point out by pop-
ular vote 5000 or (3000 individuals, from whom all public officers
were to be chosen, and the Tribunate and Legislative Body were
to be regularly recruited by the Senate. This was one of the
complicated and artificial provisions of Sieyes's patch-work Con-
stitution. Emmery, one of the members of the Council, said that
the lists were condemned by public opinion, because they deprived
the greater number of citizens of that which was the most flat-
tering result of the French Revolution, their immediate eligibility
to all public offices and honors. The First Consul declared that
the Institution was altogether bad ; it was an absurd and spurious
product of ideology. " Fifty men, met together in a desperate
crisis, have no right to annul the rights of the people. Neverthe-
less, detestable as the Institution is, it is a part of the Constitution;
it is our business to execute it, in that we do our duty and show
our good-will." Buonaparte was friendly to liberty, except when
his own person was concerned. Still he listened to the arguments
in favor of this measure, which was finally carried. Rcederer,
who brought the measure forward, saw in the Lists of Notability
a step towards his favorite projects of hereditary succession and
aristocracy. The new nobility was to proceed from the same
egg. Mathieu Dumas was against the Lists, because he did not
want a nobility of the Revolution, but was wholly devoted to the
ancient nohlrssc.
Tiff: Legion" of IIoxor. — At the sitting of the Council of State
of the 14th of Floreal, year X., the First Consul desired Rct-
derer to read aloud the project for the establishment of the Legion
of Honor ; and after the reading, he explained the motives for it.
133 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
"The actual system of military rewards," he observed, "is not
well regulated. The 87th article of the Constitution provides,
indeed, national recompences for military men, but without speci-
fying the way. A decree has been passed to authorize the distri-
bution of arms of honor, which implies double, pay, and occasions
a considerable expense. There are arms of honor with an aug-
mentation, others without any remuneration. It is a system of
confusion, one does not know what it is. Besides, it is necessary
to give a direction to the spirit of the army, and above all, to sus-
tain it. What actually supports it is the notion among the mili-
tary that they fill the place of the former nobles. The project
in question gives a greater degree of consistency to the system
of rewards, it forms a whole ; it is a commencement of the or-
ganization of the nation." Mathieu Dumas read a memoir in
support of the proposed Institution. He objected to the plan, inas-
much as it admitted mere citizens into the Legion of Honor. He
wished it to be composed entirely of the military, in order to main-
tain this spirit in the nation and in the army. Honor and mar-
tial glory has been regularly on the decline since the abolition of
the feudal system, which had given the precedency to the soldier.
Such was the idea he developed. He concluded by insisting that
lo citizen should be admitted into the Legion of Honor, without
ai least being able to prove that he had complied with the laws on
the Conscription.
The First Consul. — " These notions might have held good in
the time of the feudal system and of chivalry, or when the Cauls
were conquered by the Franks. The nation was enslaved: the
conquerors alone were i'vve ; they were every thing, they were
so as being soldiers. Then the first quality of a general or of a
chief was bodily strength. So Clovis, Charlemagne were the
strongest and most active men in their armies : they alone were
equal singly to a number of soldiers, to a battalion ; that was
what ensured them obedience and respect. It was a consequence
of the mode of warfare practised at the time. The knights
fought hand to hand ; force and address decided the victory. Lut
whm the military svstem changed, when disciplined troops, the
Macedonian phalanx, large masses succeeded to the fashion of
single combat between the knights, it was quite another thing ; h
COUNCIL OF STATE ijj
was no longer individual strength which determined the fate of
battles, but science, masterly coup- d' ceil, and so on. One may
see the proofs of this in what took place at the battles of Agincourt,
Cressy, and Poictiers. King John and his Knights gave way be-
fore the Gascon phalanxes, as the troops of Darius had done
before the Macedonian. This is the reason why no other power
could stop the victorious march of the Roman legions.
" The alteration then in the military system, and not the abo-
lition of the feudal system, would unavoidably modify the quali-
fications required in a general. Not to say that the feudal sys-
tem was abolished by the kings themselves, to shake off the yoke
of a sullen and turbulent nobility. They enfranchised the com-
mons and had battalions raised from among the people. The
martial spirit, instead of being confined to some thousands of
Franks, extended to all the Gauls. It was not weakened by this
circumstance ; on the contrary, it acquired greater strength. It
was no longer exclusive, founded solely on individual force and
violence, but on social qualities. The discovery of gunpowder
had also a prodigious influence on the changes in the military
system, and on all the consequences it drew after it. Since that
period, what is it that constitutes the superiority of a general?
His mental qualities, his coup-d' 'ceil, calculation, quickness, his ad-
ministrative resources, eloquence, not that of the advocate, but
that which suits the head of an army, and finally the knowledge
of mankind : all this belongs to the civil order. It is not at pre-
sent a man six feet three inches high who will do the greatest
things. If it sufficed in order to be a general to have strength
and courage, every soldier might pretend to the command. The
general who succeeds in the greatest undertakings is the one who
combines the greatest number of the above qualities. It is from
his being thought to possess mure understanding that the soldiers
obev and respect him. It is necessary to hear them talk in the
bi\ macs: they esteem a leader who knows how to form a right
judgment much mire than one who merely shows the greatest
braverv; not that the common soldier does not value bravery,
for he would despise a general who was without ir. Murad-Bcy
was the strongest and most expert of all the Mamelukes; without
that he would not have been Bey. When he saw me, he had no
12
134 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
conception how I could command my troops ; nor did he comprff.
hend it till he understood our system of warfare. The Mame-
lukes fought like the knights of old, body opposed to body and
without any order, which was the reason that we beat them. If
we had destroyed the Mamelukes, freed Egypt, and formed bat-
talions of the inhabitants, the martial spirit would not have been
annihilated ; its force would on the contrary have been rendered
more considerable. In all places, brute force yields to moral
qualities. The bayonet bows down before the priest who speaks
in the name of heaven, or before the man who can make good a
superiority in knowledge. I have told military men, who had
their doubts on this subject, that a military government would
never do in France unless the nation had been first brutalized by
fifty years of ignorance. All such attempts will fail, and their
authors will fall victims to them. It is not as General that I
govern, but because the people think that I have some civil quali-
fications proper to government : if they were not of this opinion,
the Government could not stand. I knew well what I did when,
at the head of the army, I took the title of a member of the Insti-
tute : 1 felt sure of not being mistaken even by the lowest drum-
mer in the army.
'■ It is wrong to argue from the barbarous ages to the present
times. We amount to thirty millions of men connected together
by knowledge, interest, commerce, and language. Three or
four hundred thousand military are nothing compared with this
ma-s. Besides that the general commands only bv his civil qual-
ities, from the time that he is no longer on duty, he returns into
the civil order. The soldiers themselves are the sons of citizens.
The army is a part <>l' the nation. If wo consider the militarv
abstractedly from all these relations, we shall soon be convinced
that they know no other law but force; that they refer every
thing to it, that they see only that. The citizen, on the other
hand, recognizes only the general grind. The characteristic of
the soldier is to will all despotically; that of tiie citizen is to sub-
mit everv thing to discussion. to truth, to reason. These have
th"ir different prisms, and are often mixed up with error, but still
discussion produces light. I have no hesitation then in thinking;
that as to the question of precedence, it belongs incontestable" to
COUNCIL OF STATE. 133
the civil character. If we were to distinguish however into mili-
tary and civil, this would be to establish two orders in the state,
while there is but one nation. If honors were conferred only on
the military, this preference would be still worse, for the nation
would be no longer anything."
These sentiments, sustained by a force of eloquence and reason,
ing not at all common, were shared by the great majority of the
Council composed of civilians, and had an immense weight in the
mouth of the chief of the Government, of the first General of the
army. Dumas felt no temptation to reply. No one took up the
question. It seemed as if there was an apprehension of weaken-
ing the impression made by this discourse ; and the First Consul
broke up the sitting in order to leave the impression entire.
Nothing had so far been said on the most delicate part of the ques-
tion, the utility or disadvantages of the Institution itself. The
subject was renewed in the sitting of the 18th. The opponents
of the project did not set their faces against every kind of reward
and distinction. The Legislative Assemblies had at different
times decreed them; but the present institution was regarded as
an order, and this was held to be contrary to the spirit of equality,
the most essential characteristic of the French Republic. An
allusion to the Greeks and Romans also escaped some of the
speakers.
Berlier said : : ' The proposed order leads to aristocracy ; crosses
and ribbons are the child's playthings of monarchy. I shall not
appeal to the example of the Romans ; there existed among them
patricians and plebeians. This had nothing to do with a system
of honorary rewards. It was a political institution, a division of
classes which might have its advantages as well as inconve-
niences. The citizens were classed according to their birth, and
not with reference to their services. Honors and national recom-
pences were transient distinctions, made no change in the rank of
the individual, and did not form a separate class of those who had
entitled themselves to them. For the rest, we have abolished ranks
and have no wish to restore them. The magistracies and pub-
lic employments ought in a Republic to be the highest rewards of
services, of talents, and of virtue." Berlier then refuted the opin-
ion of Dumas.
136 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
The First Consul, in reply to Berlier, and more particularly to
'/hose who had cited the ancients as models, said : —
" They are always talking to us of the Romans ; it is not a lit-
tle strange that, in order to set aside social distinctions, we should
be referred to the example of a people among whom they existed
in the most marked manner. Is this showing an acquaintance
with history ? The Romans had patricians, knights, citizens and
slaves. They had moreover for each class divers costumes, and
different manners. They decreed as recompences all sorts of dis-
tinctions ; names which recalled the particular service, mural
crowns, public triumphs. They employed even the sanction of
superstition. Take away the religion of Rome, and you leave
nothing standing. When this noble band of patricians lost its
influence, Rome was torn in pieces ; the people were the vilest
rabble. You then saw the fury of Marius, the proscriptions of
Sylla, and afterwards the Emperors. In like manner they al-
ways cite Brutus as the enemy of tyrants. Be it so ; but in fact
Brutus was no better than an aristocrat : he killed Ccesar for no
other reason than because Csesar wanted to diminish the authority
of the senate, in order to increase that of the people. Such is the
manner in which ignorance or party-spirit quotes history.
" I defy any one to point out a republic, ancient or modern, in
which there is no distinction of ranks.* They call all that child's
rattles : be it so ! it is with children's rattles that men are led.
I would not say that to a tribune ; but in a council of wise men
and statesmen one ought to speak out. I do not believe that the
French people love liberty and equality. The French character
has not been changed by ten years of revolution : they are still
what their ancestors the Gauls were, vain and light. They are
susceptible but of one sentiment, honor ; it is right then to afford
nourishment to this sentiment, and to allow of distinctions. Ob-
serve how the people bow before the decorations of foreigners : the
latter have been surprised themselves at the effect, and take care
never to appear without them.
•' Voltaire calls the common soldiers so many Alexanders at
Jive sous a day. He was right: it is just so. Do you imagine
you can make men light by reasoning ? Never. It is only fit for
* Is not America an instance ? Was not France ?
COUNCIL OF STATE 137
the student in his closet. You must bribe the soldier with glory,
distinction, rewards. The armies of the Republic have done
wonders, because they were composed of the sons of peasants and
of substantial farmers, and not of the mere rabble ; because the
officers had taken the situations of those of the ancient regime, but
also through a sentiment of honor. It was on the same principle
that the armies of Louis XIV. performed such great things.*
People may, if they please, call the project an order ; names do
not alter the nature of things." [Yet what is the thing itself but
a name ?] " But to come to the point ; during ten years there
has been a talk of institutions : what has been done ? Nothing.
The time was not arrived. It was thought a happy expedient to
assemble the people in the churches, there to shiver with cold in
hearing the laws recited, in perusing and studying their contents.
It is not a very amusing employment even for those whose busi-
ness it is to execute them ; how then could the people be expected
to take an interest in such an occupation ? I know well enough
that if we place ourselves in the skull-cap that encloses the ten
years of the Revolution, we shall in that point of view find that
the plan is good for nothing ; but if we place ourselves after the
Revolution, and admit the actual necessity we are under of organ-
izing the nation, we shall think differently. All has been over-
turned ; we want at present to build up again. There is a
Government, with certain powers ; as to all the rest of the nation,
what is it but grains of sand ? We have in the midst of usT the
remains of the old privileged classes, connected by principles and
interests, and knowing well what it is they want. I can count
our enemies. But as to ourselves, we are scattered, without sys-
tem, without union, without contact. As long as I remain. I can
answer for the Republic ; but we must provide for the future.
Do you suppose that the Republic is definitively established? It
would be a gross mistake. We have it in our power to achieve
this object, but we have not yet done it, nor shall we ever succeed
* What a desire there seems to be here and everywhere to neutralize the
supposed influence of the Revolution, and to separate liberty from glory aa
its natural offspring ! In the addresses to the army of Italy, he said, " None
but the Republican soldiers can do all this !•"'
t Was it not o wince to the First Consul that it was so ?
12*
13S LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
in it, if we do not, as a foundation, cast some blocks of granite on
the soil of France. Do you suppose we can reckon upon t.'io
people ? They cry indifferently, Vive le Eoi, vim la Ligue ! It
is then necessary to give them a direction, and to have instruments
for that purpose. In the war of La A'endee, I have seen forty
men govern a department ; it is of this system that we ought to
avail ourselves. In fine, it is agreed that we have need of some
kind of institutions : if this is not approved of, let some other he
proposed. I do not pretend that it alone will save the State, but it
will do its part."
The Second Consul (Cambaceres) defended the project, and
applied himself principally to show that the Constitution did not
disallow of honorary distinctions. Portalis followed on the same
side, and developed the principles laid down by J. J. Rousseau
on the influence and the importance of signs. The plan was dis-
cussed in another sitting of the Council, at which the First Con-
sul was not present. He presided over that of the 24th of the
month. lie led the discussion towards the drawing up and mat-
ters of detail, as if the basis had been adopted; he did not put it
to the vote, and all at once proposed the question whether it would
be proper to send it to the Legislative Body, considering the short
time the session had to last.
Thibaudcau. " It is a law of great importance and a system
diametrically opposed to the principles professed during the Revo-
lution. The abolition of the distinctions of rank did not take
place in those disastrous times which reflect so much discredit
even on the best things. The decree was passed by the Constitu-
ent. Assembly, at one of the epochs the most honorable to the
Revolution. The nation, ii is true, is profoundly imbued with
the sentiment of honor ; but it is this very sentiment that renders
the idea of equality above all things dear to it. It was those two
motives, combined with the love of' liberty, of independence, and
of country, that led the first armies of the Republic to victory. I
am not convinced that with the Legion of Honor they would have
performed Greater things. Considered as a guarantee for the Re-
v ilution, the plan appears to me to militate against its object : and
as an intermediate body, to flow from a principle inapplicable to
tenresentative government. I am afraid lest the fondness for
COUNCIL OF STATE. 139
ribbons should weaken the sentiments of duty and even of borer,
instead of expanding and strengthening them. I respect the rea-
sons which have been developed in the course of the discussion
in favor of the project ; they are imposing ; but I own I still en-
tertain some doubts. It is desirable that so important an institu-
tion should not be established without the assent, well pronounced
and understood, of the principal bodies of the State and of the
nation. The session of the Legislative Body will end in two or
three days : is it right then to refer to it just now the project of a
law which requires the most serious reflections ? I think not. I
foresee that it will meet with a lively opposition. It seems to me
advisable to adjourn the question/''
Portalis, Dumas. Rcederer opposed the adjournment: the First
Consul then put it to the vote ; it was lost by fourteen voices against
ten. Lacuee, Emmery, Berlier, Berenger, Thibaudeau, Jolivet,
Defermon. Octet, and Ileal voted for the adjournment because they
were against the project. It was carried up, on the 25th, to the
Legislative Body. Rcederer prefaced it with a brief recapitula-
tion of the objects. lie said, " It is an institution intended in aid
of all the laws of the Republic, and which should serve to consoli-
date the Revolution. It confers on military as well as civil ser-
vices the reward of patriotism which they have so well merited.
It blends them in the same glory, as the nation docs not distin-
guish thorn in its gratitude. By a common distinction it unites
men already united by honorable recollections ; it opens a friendly
intercourse between those who are already disposed to esteem one
another. It places under the shelter of their responsibility and
heir oaths the laws in favor of equality, liberty, and property.
It effaces aristocratic distinctions which placed hereditary ulorv
before that which was acquired, and the descendants of great men
b 'fire the great men themselves. It is a moral distinction which
ad is force and activity to that lever of honor which so powerfully
.mpels the French nation. It is a politic institution which estab
li.shes in the community intermediate bodies, through which the
acts of power are laid before public opinion with fidelity and can-
dor, and through which public opinion can reascend t > instruct
power. It is a military institution which will allure into the army
that portion of the youth of the country, which otherwise it would
110 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
perhaps be difficult to rouse from the indolence which is the com-
panion of prosperous circumstances. Finally, it is the creation
or' a new species of money of a very different value from that
winch issues from the public mint ; a money of which the stan-
dard is unimpeachable and the mine inexhaustible, since it has
its source in the national honor; a money which can alone be-
come the equivalent of actions regarded as superior to all other
recompense. 1 '
Lucien Buonaparte, as reporter to the commission of the Tribu-
nate, proposed the adoption of the new law. Savoye-Rollin com-
bated it in a discourse full of sound principles and facts, and
which produced a strong sensation. Chauvelin followed up the
system of attack by a declaration equally well reasoned. These
were the principal objections : That the Legion of Honor contains
in itself all the elements on which hereditary nobility has been
founded in all ages; that it implies exclusive qualifications, pow-
ers, honors, titles, and fixed revenue ; that nobility lias rarely
commenced with so many advantages ; that it is not safe to rely on
the progress of knowledge and the difference of the times, the hu-
man heart being always the same : that the same opportunities
make men fall into the same errors and indulge in the same pro-
pensities : that the Legion of Honor will forthwith revive preju-
dices but half extinguished, and received in all the rest of Europe,
and that these prejudices will serve to fortify the influence of the
military and aristocratical ideas which have always emanated
from it, and will introduce a spirit of classes instead of the spirit
of the public good ; that under pretence of effacing the old nobil-
ity, the Legion of Honor will originate a new one and strongly
reinforce the old ; that as an intermediate corps, it is at best a
superfluity, intermediate bodies being of some benefit in despotic
states, but that under a representative government and among a
people sufficiently happy to enjoy a public discussion of its laws
and measures, the true and only intermediate bodies between the
people and the government are the constituted authorities; in a
word that the proposed institution is contrary to the spirit and prin.
cipb s of the Republic, and to the letter of the Constitution.
Freviile defended the project, and Lucien Buonaparte replied
to his antagonists with a great deal of youthful presumption.
COUNCIL OF STATE. 141
Confident in the ties which attached him to the First Consul, he
attributed criminal intentions to those who differed with him,
charged them with designs against the Government, spoke of the
indignation which he felt, and discharged a part of his spleen on
the nation itself, which he attempted to degrade by the epithet
pitiable. The indiscretion of the speaker raised up a great num-
ber of enemies to the project. It was carried only by a majority
of .16 voices against 38.
The subject was brought forward in the Legislative Body ; but
there it met with no opposition. The three Government orators,
and the three orators of the Tribune, charged solely to defend the
project, accumulated every possible argument and excuse in its
favor. The discussion was terminated by an allusion made by
Dumas to a passage of the Roman History relative to Marcus
Claudius Marcellus, who was called the Sword of Home. " Well
then,'"' exclaimed the orator, " our Marcellus, our Consul, on whom
the people are at this moment about to confer the magistracy for
life, he who protected the arts and sciences in the midst of the
horrors of war, who under the .wings of victory made them rear
their heads in Egypt, in their first cradle, whence the Greeks and
Archimedes borrowed them, in fine, our Sword of France proposes
it to you, the high-priests of the law, to erect a double temple to
honor and to virtue." The said pontiffs voted on the question ;
and in spite of all that eloquence could suggest to gain their suf-
frages, the Legion of Honor was sanctioned only by 169 voices
against 110. A triumph so sharply contested and hardly ex-
torted from two bodies which had just undrrgone a purification,
did not greatly flatter the First Consul. No measure of the Con-
sulate met with a warmer opposition. One of the Council said to
him, "You see that those among the Counsellors of State who
voted for the adjournment had some reason. So strong an op-
position is always a thing to be avoided." Ho replied, "True ;
it would have been better to have waited. Sufficient time was
riot given. The matter was not so urgent. Besid< s. the orators
who defended the measure did not give good reason for it."
The grand objection that might be made to the institution of the
Legion of Honor, considered not as a mere pretext and stepping-
stone to the re-establishment of hereditarv nobility, which merges
142 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
'acquired glory in that which is borrowed," and all talent and
virtue in birth and rank, but as a kind of rival to this and an or-
der of personal merit, is that there can be no order of personal
merit. 1. Titles and external marks of distinction should be con-
fined to represent external advantages only : there they have an
appropiate meaning and effect (whether good or bad, is another
question). A coronet on a coach speaks a plain and intelligible
language ; for every one knows by this that the ancestors of the
person who owns it were persons of rank and distinction as much
as the carriage itself shows that he is rich. But there can be no
outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace ; for
the question of real desert is one which is always left reserved in
the human breast, and a bit of red ribbon in the button-hole does
not alter our opinion in this respect. We may bow down to the
advantages actually possessed by others, as we may wish that we
ourselves had them ; but no one willingly acknowledges a supe-
riority in personal worth over himself or would give up his per-
sonal identity, however gladly he might change places with an-
other. Again, a man may wear a. medal to imply that he was in
a certain battle, or a particular dress to show he belon.es to a cer-
tain society or profession — iJiut is specific and positive; but no
man can wear a badge which says. " I am a better man than you
who do not wear it ;"' for this is a thing that does not properly ad-
mit of proof, and that no one grants as a voluntary concession.
As a mere assumption on the part of the individual, it is an im-
pertinence; as a license from government, it implies a degree of
servility and a sense of inferiority in others which is contrary to
the principles of equality and reason. Instead of thinking more
of the individuals who thus court distinction without any thine to
warrant it (unlike outward expense and magnificence, which
corrv their credentials along with them and impose on the im-
agination, if not on the understanding) you think less of them;
and virtue and merit are in the end reduced to a piece of red rib-
bon, which is made their inadequate symbol.
If a man of merit looks meanly in the street, you cannot say
to the passengers, " FLespi ct this man ;" they will rather learn to
desnise personal merit which is not corroborated by personal ap-
pearance. It is a translation from one language to another ; and
COUNCIL OF STATE. 143
all things suffer by translation. 2. It is true, the language of
signs, according to Rousseau, is a powerful one ; but it has more
or less influence according to times and circumstances, and the
insisting upon it in preference is a recurrence to the ages of bar-
barism. The natural tendency of the human mind is (as already
observed) from the concrete to the abstract. Who would now
resort to the Egyptian hieroglyphics, though these might have
had their advantages? The streets of Paris and London were at
one time stuffed with signs over every shop-door, which are now
taken down by common consent. They were useful and even
necessary when scarcely any one could read, and must have af-
forded great delight and amusement to the imagination, before the
progress of the fine arts had improved and directed the public
taste. So a higher and more abstracted standard of morals and
of personal merit, connected with the progress of knowledge and
inquiry, supersedes the use and value of personal badges, and of
a more gross and material language. A nobleman or gentleman
was right in wearing a sword and an embroidered dress when
from the coarseness of manners he was liable to be jostled or
knocked down without it ; but the police has removed the danger
of this, and he now aims at distinction by other means than the
mere admiration which his own finery or the rich livery of his
footmen might excite. As a change has taken place in the art of
war, by which skill and science have prevailed over biute force,
and the mind over the body, so a proportionable change has taken
place in the intercourse of peace, by which conversation and be-
havior are more sought after than dress and equipage. To re-
vert to the old-fashioned tinsel and Gothic forms is to tread back
our steps instead of advancing with the spirit of the age. There
is no occasion to affect distinction by slovenliness and indecency
as in the times of sansculotlism ; but neither will external frippery
and an appeal to the senses ever regain their influence in the
eves of others, unless they were as formerly the sole proofs of
intelligence or power, and were seconded as formerly by the feai
and ignorance of the multitude. 3. It is drawing a line where
none can properly be drawn. Buonaparte was blamed for giv-
ing the cross of the Legion of Honor to Crescentini the singer.
But was the exclusion to extend to musical comDOsers as well as
144 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
singers, to poets as well as players ? There could be no rule
laid down in the case. What depends on opinion must be left to
opinion, the only scale fine enough to weigh the fluctuating and
evanescent pretensions to public favor. It is true, the theatrical
profession labors under an unjust stigma in France, having of old
incurred the odium thcologicum ; and Buonaparte wished tore-
move this stigma, and to give it a place in public estimation cor-
responding to that which it holds in public admiration. There
was an evident and ill-natured discordancy which he wished to
do away with. But he could not do it. The Legion of Honor
would only have got laughed at if he had persisted in the at-
tempt: there is no forcing opinion. Honor can only be the echo
of opinion : or the utmost that it can do is to lend its stamp to fu-
gitive esteem, to the dictates of prejudice or the accidents of for-
tune, which instead of being confirmed and sanctioned by au-
thority, ought to be corrected and effaced by time and reason. —
The whole is false mathematics, an attempt to square the circle.
Buonaparte wished however to model this institution on as broad
and liberal a scale as possible ; and what he says on the subject
in another place shows equal sense and feeling.
'• No comedian ever received the decoration of the Legion of
Honor. Are Gretry, Paesiello, Mchul, and Le Sueur, our most
celebrated composers, to be compared to singers ? Must the pro-
scription be extended to David, Gros, Vernet, Renaud, and Ro-
bert Lefebre, our most eminent painters : and even to Lagrange,
La Place, Berthollet, Monge, Vauquelin, Chaptal, Guvton de
Morveau, Jouy, Baour Lormian, Fontanes, Sismondi, and Guin-
guene ? The French soldier must entertain sentiments highly
unworthy of him, before a decoration worn by such men can on
that account lose any part of its value in his eves. If the Legion
of Honor were not the recompense of civil as well as military
servici s, it would cease to be the Legion of Honor. It would be
a strange piece of presumption indeed in the military, to pretend
that honors should be paid to them onlv. Soldiers who knew
n r 't how to read or write, were proud of wearing, in recompense
for the blood they had shed, the same decoration as was given to
distinguished talents in civil life : and on the other hand, the lat-
'er attached a greater value to this reward of their labors, be-
COUNCIL OF STATE 43
cause it was the reward of the brave. But then Crescentini ?
It is true that in a moment of enthusiasm, just after hearing the
fine scenes of Romeo and Juliet, the Emperor gave him the cross
of the Iron Crown. Crescentini, however, was of good birth ;
he belonged to the worthy citizens of Bologna, a city so dear to
Napoleon's heart. lie thought it would please the Italians, but
was mistaken ; ridicule attacked the transaction : had it been ap-
proved by public opinion, he would have given the cross of the
Legion of Honor to Talma, St. Prix, Fleury, Grandmcnil, Lair,,
Gardel, and Elleviou : he refrained from doing so out of conside-
ration for the weakness and prejudices of the age, and he was in
the wrong. The Legion of Honor was the reversion of every
one who was an honor to his country, stood at the head of his
profession, and contributed to the national prosperity and glory.
Some officers were dissatisfied, because the decoration of the Le-
gion of Honor was alike for officers and soldiers. But if ever it
cease to be the recompense of the lowest class of the military,
and a medal be instituted through aristocratical feelings to reward
the mere soldier, or if ever the civil order be deprived of it, it
will cease to be the Legion of Honor. "
VOL. II. 8 13
46 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXVI.
COLOMES ADOPTION, ETC.
The Council of State had to discuss a project for establishing
u board of agriculture in the West India Colonies. Truguet op-
posed the plan as dangerous. "It is the colonists," he observed,
" who have occasioned all the trouble in the colonies : it is ne-
cessary to govern them with severity and vigor. Cultivation will
gain nothing by these boards, but they will harass the agents of
Government.'*'
The First Consul. — " Every establishment under a feeble Go-
vernment is liable to become dangerous ; but it is to be recol-
lected that the colonists are French : they have the same charac-
ter and sense of their rights ; they cannot be treated as slaves.
It would be necessarv for that purpose to deprive them of the
privilege of speaking, thinking, and writing. They have no re-
presentatives in the Legislature ; the Constitution with just rea-
son disallows of it : at least then they ou;rht to have some means
of appealing to the Government, of making known their wants, and
of stating their grievances. If a plan can be pointed out, which
gives less importance to the colonists, I am willing to adopt it;
but I do not sen bow it is possible to contrive one with less in-
fluence, ami that is perhaps its fault. Doubtless, it is proper to
govern the colonies with energy ; but there is no energy without
justice. To this end it is indispensable that the Government
should be informed of every thing, and that it should hear the
parties concerned : i'>v it is not sufficient to be just, merely to do
good ; it is still farther necessary that the governed should be
convinced of this, and they cannot be s i unless thev have the
means of making themselves heard. Even were the Council of
State composed of angels or of Gods, who could see with the first
glance of the eye what "--as best to bo done, it would signify
COLONIES, ADOPTION, ETC. 14/
nothing unless the colonists had the conviction of having had tneir
statements duly attended to.* Strength is also founded on opin-
ion. It is principally in this point of view that the proposed estab-
lishment is necessary. There is at present no medium of com-
munication between France and her colonies : the most absurd
reports are circulated there ; the true principles of (he Govern-
ment, so far from being properly understood, are burlesqued in
every account of them. This is because those of the colonists
who are in Paris are forced to collect their information in ante-
chambers, or from the enemies of the Government, or in society
which has no connexion with it. If, on the contrary, there were
established here, under the eye of the Government, a sort of colo-
nial association, it would learn the truth, would repeat it, and
write word of it home. It is then a channel of information that
we want to open with them. The citizen Serres has committed
outrages, unheard-of oppressions at Senegal ; some of those ban-
ished there have revolted against him. I shall have them tried,
because they ought to know that their first duly is obedience to
the authority of the mother-country ; but I shall have him tried
also, for it was his to make it respected. If there had been here
a deputy from Senegal, or a board of commissioners, this man
would have been more on his guard, and would have conducted
himself better. It is said, '■ Choose your agents bitter:'' but the
citizen Serres enjoyed a good reputation before this ; it was power
that turned his head. Besides, it is not simply with a view to
keep a check on the agents of Government that the plan is good;
it is also of use to defend them from calumny. A thousand stories
have been told of this poor General Dugua ; he had, they said,
encouraged the negroes to insurrection ; there is not a person who
has not heard the most violent accusations against him. Now, if
there was any charge against him, it was that of having treated
them with too much harshness. In spite of all I could do to put
a stop to the calumny, it has not been the less eagerly circulated
against an unfortunate man, who devoted himself to destruction
bv this means. An agent of Government, urged by necessity,
makes some relaxations in the laws of the customs, and sutlers
* A finer or more liberal definition of justice, or of what governmeuta
owe to the people, surely never was given.
148 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
foreign flour to be introduced into the colonies ; instantly he is de-
nounced by the inhabitants of Nantes and Bordeaux as a corrupt
officer, a man sold to the views of the enemy, and yet it is neces-
sity and the welfare of the colony that have determined him to act
in the manner he has done. Do you imagine in such a case, that
if there were deputies from the colonies near at hand, they would
not be eager to point out the truth and to defend the men who had
rendered an important service to their country? The colonists
and the merchants have interests always opposed to each other.
When it is in agitation to establish a certain tax on the produce
of the colonies, all the boards of commerce send in their memo-
rials, and no one watches to defend the interests of the colonies.
The law arrivi s there armed with all its rigor, without any one's
being at the pains to explain the motives to the colonists or to give
them an assurance that every circumstance has been duly weighed.
I am aware that we keep the colonies for the sake of commerce,
for the advantage of the mother-country ; but at the same time,
the colonists themselves are Frenchmen, are brothers; they con-
tribute to the support of the state, they have interests of their own
to defend, and the least we can do for them is to allow them this
imperfect means of letting us know their sentiments as to what
those interests are."
Truguet. — •' It would at any rate be best to postpone the plan ;
the moment is unfavorable."
The First Consul objected to the adjournment, and added :
"People suppose that the colonists are on the side of the English ;
but I can say that at Martinique there are the best-disposed citi-
zens. The partisans of the English are well known ; thev are
far from numerous. So when they sent M. Dubuc here, thev
wrote to inform me that he was a friend of the English. The
agents of the Government have been received with the greatest
enthusiasm by the inhabitants. 1 '
Tnnjtirt. — ■• Xot by the greater number."
The First Consul, (growing warm.) — i: See how things are inis-
repi-' s< % nted ! There are persons who are determined to find only
us of the English in the colonies, in order that thev may
nave a pretext to oppress them. Wi 11. M. Truguet, if you had
come into Egypt to preach up the freedom of the negroes or
COLONIES, ADOPTION, ETC. 149
Arabs, we should have hung you up at the mast-head. It has been
so contrived, that all the whites should be delivered over to the
ferocity of the blacks, and yet it is thought strange that they
should be dissatisfied. Well then, had I been at Martinique, I
should also have been on the side of the English, because above
all things it is necessary to save one's life. I am for the whites,
because 1 am white; 1 have no other reason, yet that is reason
good enough. How was it possible to grant liberty to the Afri-
cans, to men without any kind of civilization, who did not even
know what a colony meant, or that there was such a place
as France ] It is quite evident, that those who proposed the
emancipation of the blacks must wish for the slavery of the
whites; but after all, do you suppose that if the majority of the
Convention had seen what they were doing and been acquainted
with the colonies, they would have persisted in granting freedom
to the negroes ? Doubtless not ; but ?v\v persons were in a situa-
tion to foresee the consequences at the time, and a sentiment of
humanity always appeals powerfully to the imagination. But at
present, for any one to persist in these principles, is to show a
want of good faith ; it is mere pride and hypocrisy. Without
going so far, would you have consented, would you have suffered,
that the French should have been brought in subjection to the
Italians, to the Piedmontese ? We might have been well treated ;
they might have made of us what the blacks have made of the
whites. We have been obliged, on the contrary, to take strong
measures of precaution, and to keep them in a state of dependence;
and even had it been necessary to let all Italy perish or sacrifice
two soldiers of my army, I would have let all Italy perish ; because
before all things, I am of my army and for my army. To this day
even it is necessary to have ai> eye on that country ; nevertheless
they are whites like us. a civilized people, and our neighbors."
Perhaps there is not any v 'here on record, and particularly
coming out of the person's ov> n mouth, a passage which paints so
powerful Iv, with such nakedness and force, not merely the char-
acter but the inmost soul and extremity of purpose in an individ-
ual, as the one just given. x t would be as much in vain to reason
with a man whose mind is devoured and burnt up with his un-
quenchable zeal of partisanship, as to insist that a person is cot
150 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to writhe with pain who lias a living coal of fire applied to hi&
breast. We see a soul of fire without water or clay, that nothing
could tame, could softi n, or deter. It is not a question of degree,
but a total separation in principle and an antipathy in nature to
the ordinary and cherished weaknesses of human nature ; so
that no extreme case or disproportion in the objects could make
any difference on a mind that had a capacity but for one class and
modification of feeling. In this one passage he has given a clue
(radiant with light) to all his actions, to all his greatness and his
littleness, his elevation and his fall, without resorting to studied
policy, to accident, or the advice of friends. Buonaparte need
not talk of Arabs or uncivilized nations; he is himself one of
them. No wild Indian could brood over in his hut or make a tri-
umphant boast at the stake of a more utter abnegation of all the
mawkishness of general benevolence ; nor snap with less ceremony
or firmer nerves all the ties but those which bind him to his tribe
and link him in a chain of sordid interest with others with whom
he is knit in a common cause, and who are ready to stand by him
in like manner. No son of the Desert, whose feelings have been
burnt into him by a scorching sun, who is hardened against com-
punction by tin; extremity of want, who recognizes only in the
stranger or in his fellow-man a deadly foe whose existence is at
war with his own and that of all belonging to him, could express
a more determined disbelief in and contempt for all the decencies,
chanties, and professed courtesies of general philanthropy as
mere names and shadows.
The tendency of civilization and intellectual intercourse Las
been to extend the circle of sympathy with the circle of know-
ledge, to hurst the barriers of tribe, nation, and color, and to ex-
tort the confession that wherever there was a kindred feeling,
there was a claim to pity, to justice, and humanity. Thus " we
S"0 a softness coming over the heart, and the iron scales of ambi-
tion that fenced and guarded it melt and drop off." "A negro
las a soul, an' please your honor," said the Corporal, doubtingly?
'• 1 am no great casuist, Trim," replied my uncle Toby, " but
I suppose that God Almighty would not leave him without one,
any more than thee or me." This is one of those glancing
strokes of the pen which first served to throw a golden streak of
COLONIES, ADOPTION, &c 151
light over this dark subject. If pleasure and pain, good and evil
were black and white, then justice and injustice, right and wrong
might depend on this distinction. But old Fuller's quaint rhet-
oric contains a better moral when he calls the negroes "the im-
ages of God carved in ebony." The hand does not feel pain the less
because it is black ? Why then should it feel it the more because
it is black, which does not alter the essence of the question ? But
it is not like mine, which is white ! By what law of nature is it
b mnd to be like it, except to the ignorant and prejudiced ; who,
knowing of no other color, could not believe the existence of any
other ; and wondering to find that such people existed, and struck
with the difference, required two hundred years more to look
upon them as human beings ? If our progress in this respect is
slow, difficult and imperfect, that is no reason why, by a sudden
revulsion, we should undo all that has been done, and undermine
the very foundation and principles by which any future progress
can be made. This is indeed shutting our eyes and leaping into
the dark gulf of wilfulness and barbarism. How far the negroes
might be humanely treated and made tolerably comfortable, in
contradiction to the principles by which they are kept in slavery,
I shall not dispute ; but I am sure that they must be as ill-treated
as possible under the sway of that hard code, which strips them
of all title to charity because they are black. Why is it assumed
that the negroes are incapable of civilization ? They arc capable
of being taught to wait at table, to ride behind a coach, to cook,
to play on the fiddle ; why then are they not capable of being
taught to work out of doors as common laborers? There is no
reason given. If it is determined to keep them slaves by force,
then they have but one way to become free, that is, by extermi-
nating their masters. Nothing shall persuade me that a slave is
not at least a more respectable character than a slave-driver.
Why should the French keep the Italians in subjection ? Why
lav down this alternative as necessary ? It is the way to be sub.
pcted yourself. True patriotism warrants no conclusion con-
trary to liberty or humanity. What were the French to Napo-
leon ? France was his adopted country. No one can feel a
natural or blind attachment to thirty millions of people. France,
England is a mere name, a geographical or political denomina
153 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
tion, to which we are hound only by moral and rational ties, as a
part of the great society of mankind, whose welfare, whose lib-
erty, whose existence we are sworn to defend against the unjust
aggressions or encroachments of every other part, but not to sac-
rifice the whole to it. Why should Buonaparte put the question
of sacrificing the lives of two of his soldiers or letting all Italy
perish 1 This is an extreme case indeed, but it shows the ex-
tremity of will and character in the speaker, and is so far inval-
uable. If all Italy could not weigh clown two lives, each Italian
life must be worth nothing, a mere cipher, or it would mount up
in such a sum. Adam Smith has observed, with the spirit and
candor of a philosopher, that perhaps a pain in the little finger
would vex a person more than the hearing of the death of a mil-
lion of men in China by famine or otherwise, and that this is
mere infirmity ; but that if it were proposed to any one having it
in his power whether he should feel a slight pain in his finger or
a million of men should perish of hunger, a man would be a
villain who should prefer the latter. Buonaparte seemed to
think that the dictates of his will were to outweigh those of com-
mon sense and feeling ; and that he was to act with rigid
stoicism on the bare calculations of self-interest, as if they had
been the severe deductions of reason and philosophy.
There is the same extraordinary tenacity of purpose and incor-
rigible determination to subject the reason and nature of things to
mere arbitrarv will discernible in the discussions which occurred
in the Council of State relative to the law of adoption. We can
hardly have a complete understanding of Buonaparte's character,
without turning to them ; and they will be useful in more than
one point of view.
The First Consul. '■ The citizen Tronchet. in rejecting the
principle of adoption, has cited the Romans; yet it took place
among them in their Comitia. in presence of the whole people.
The citizen Portal is has also said that wills were made before the
Roman people. The reason of which is, that these acts were
derogatorv to the rights of families and the order of succession.
The objection drawn from our Constitution is not well-founded.
Whatever is not expressly prohibited by it is permitted. Adop-
tion is neither a civil contract nor a judicial act. What is it
COLONIES, ADOPTION, &c. 153
then? An imitation by which society strives to ape nature. It
is a kind of new sacrament; for I cannot find in the language
any word that exactly defines its nature. The child of the blood
and of the hone passes (so to speak) hy the volition of the commu-
nity into the blood and the bones of another. It is the loftiest act
that can be imagined. It inspires the sentiments of a son into
him who had them not, and reciprocally teaches those of a father.
Whence then ought this act to proceed ? From on high, like the
thunderbolt. You are not the son of such a one, says the Legis-
lative Body ; nevertheless, you shall have the same sentiments as
if you were. One cannot then raise one's-self too high for such
an operation. It is feared that in this manner the use of adoption
should be too much limited ; but we thereby honor it. Neither
is it necessary that the legislature should enter into the details of
each case ; but as a high-priest, it comes forward to impart the
sacred character. Suppose disputes to arise between the natural
son and the son by adoption. The last will reply : It is the same
authority which has established the marriage from which you
proceed ; it is the law itself which has made me your brother.
An objection has been started to the revocability of adoption ; but
I would not have it revocable. Divorce is cited as a parallel
case. How can any one compare that which dissolves with that
which creates ? When the State has pronounced the adoption to
have taken place, surely it is not possible to think of permitting
it to be recalled. It would be different if it originally emanated
from a court of justice. It would be then not more than a sen-
tence passed. When the father wished to remonstrate with the
adopted son, the latter might say : You are not my father ! The
adopted might also abuse the secrets of the affairs or of the feel-
ings of the adopter. No, it is not to lie admitted."
Tronchet maintained the opinion of the First Consul; Roederer
combated it. " It is," said he, "more especially for the poorer
classes that adoption is of use ; lor the laborer, for instance, who
adopt-; the infant that the administration of the hospitals has en.
trusted to his care. The First Consul aims at giving the institu-
tion too elevated a character. The laboring man will not feel
this, but on the contrary will be deterred by it."
The First Consul. " The imagination must be powerfullv
8*
i£>4 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
affected. If there are differences between the natural and the
adoptive father, if embarked in the same boat, they are threatened
with imminent danger, the son ought to save his adoptive father.
There is nothing but the will of the sovereign that can impress
this sentiment. The Legislative Body must not pronounce in
this case as it does in questions of property, of imposts, but as the
high-priest of morality and the head of a sacred institution. The
vice of our modern legislators is to have nothing that speaks to the
imagination. It is not possible to govern man except by it; with-
out imagination he is no better than a brute-beast. If the priests
were to establish adoption, they would make an imposing cere-
mony of it. It is a mistake to govern men like machines. The
whole society must interfere here. Your system leads to the re-
vocability of adoption."
The Minister of Justice. " The Legislative Body will only
sanction ; for the consent of the parties is sufficient for the con-
tract/'"
The First Consul. " There is no contract with a minor. A
contract implies onlv geometrical obligations, it has nothing to do
with sentiment. Insert the word heir in vour law, and so let the
question rest. Heir carries along with it none but geometrical
ideas : adoption, on tin'' contrary, involves the ideas of institutions,
of morality and sentiment. Analysis leads to results the most
false and vicious. It is not tor five sous a day, for a paltry dis-
tinction, that men go to be killed ; it is by speaking to the soul
that the will is electrified. It is not the notary who will produce
this effect for the twelve francs that we pay him. The Council
do not treat the questi m properly, they make it an affair of geom-
etry : they view it as framers of the law, and not as statesmen.
'In'' imagination should consider adoption as a resource amidst
the misfortunes of life. 1 put the question to the reporter, what
diffcri nee there is between the heir and the ad >ptivo child V
B> rlii-r. "In order to reply to this question, one must first
; far approve of that deep sleep, of that solemn
rlooni, of those bright visions, and would not disturb them. It is
to no purpose to tell me that the rites of this religi in were child-
ish mummeries, that these theoretical doctrines were the wildest
absurdities — that moves me not a jot; when I see truth and phi-
FIRST SUGGESTION OF THE CONCORDAT. 163
losophy inspire the same enthusiasm and the same reverence that
it is complained were lavished on folly and superstition, then 1
shall give the preference to the former over the latter. What
does it import that in wrangling ahout the difference between real
and pretended excellence, we arrive at the object of our pursuit
and lose all feeling about it? Philosophers were so far wrong in
relinquishing the hold which the other world gave them over the
minds of the people: ever since, instead of learned ease, leisure,
dignity, they have had nothing but disputes, mortifications, and
the contempt of the vulgar. What have those gained by it who
were most active in sundering reason from authority ? Have not
those who have in fact advanced the cause of truth and discovered
any new link in the chain been uniformly exposed to the sneers
of the world and baited with the rabble's curse? Have not the
most daring and acute been exposed to the greatest obloquy ?
Have not the different sects in turn persecuted, slandered, and ex-
tirpated one another ? We have discarded Popery, but have got
nothing in its stead : or why complain of the servile submission to
the infallibility of the Pope, when every one still believes just as
much in the newspaper of the day or the libel he last read, but
without the consistency, dignity, or quiet? Reason is not yet out
of its long minority, nor has it mounted its promised throne.
Could Buonaparte therefore have restored the pristine integrity of
the Catholic church with all its accompaniments, I should have
had no objection, but the thing was in our time impossible, just as
much as it is impossible for the brain to dream waking ; faith is
founded on the sleep of reason, and he could only bring hack hy-
pocrisy, tiie abhorred alike of God and man. The only good of
the Catholic religion was the faith in it, without which it would be
like a painted sepulchre or an ill-acted play. Nay more, could
he have carried back the state of public faith and feeling to the
time preceding the Reformation, this would not have been enough
unless he could have violently suppressed all the causes then at
work to produce its overthrow, unless he could have corrected the
abuses and corruptions of Popery arising out of its very success
and unbridled power, and thus have brought its pretensions into
Question and given it a check that way; or to make it last an-
other thousand years, have thrown the world back to the bcle states, only serve to discover in those that are powerful a
mutual wish to deceive.
" France and Kngland may, by the abuse of their strength,
long defer the period of its utter exhaustion, unhappily for all
nations. But 1 will venture to sav, that the fate of all civilized
nations is concerned in the termination of a war, the flames of
which are raging throughout the whole world.
" I have the honor to he, eco.
" Buonaparte."
The style of this letter has been criticized as empirical, and as
an indecorous schooling of Majesty ; ami in all ordinary conjunc-
tures, the objection would hold good. But where the personal
character and motives of the Government were continually
cavilled at and made in this verv instance an insuperable bar to
peace, it was surely allowable for the chief magistrate to come
forward in his own person and to take a frank and decisive step,
as free as possible from official embarrassment and mystery.
Though a diplomatic license, it was at any rate a less flagrant
one than the assassination i4' ambassadors, which was the Icgiti-
matc termination of the last political negociation (that of Rastadt)
Buonaparte had been on^aimd in. If. however, his appeal to the
personal feelings of George III. was forward and overweening,
there is no want of pruderv and reserve in Lord Grenville's
reply, which reminds one of .Miss Harris's retort on her sister,
who had proposed to forget all mutual faulN. that ••she has no.
thing to charge her conscience with."' This comparison may be
thought trifling and low; and I should think so, if meanness
could not insinuate itself into cabinets nor hypocrisy mount upon
a throne. The document is a curious and instructive specimen
of the ciiithcr-htiiHl of Pitt, in which it is impossible to detect either
hemmiin;:. middle, or end. which rings the changes of pompous
and conventional phraseology on a continual vapid assumption of
the question, which defines nothing, suites nothing, proves no
MARENGO. 171
thing, but goes round and round in a circle of charges, commit-
tals, and equivocations, and in the flourishes and mazes of which
(containing a deadly purpose under a routine of hollow common-
places) England lost her liberties, her strength, herself and the
world. It is a question between two Governments, which is sin-
cere in its desire of peace ; and one of them endeavors to prove
its sincerity by saying it will be ready to make peace with the
oilier, whenever it ahull have ceased to exist. Its existence is the
avowed obstacle to peace ; which, instead of a pledge of pacific
intentions, amounts to a standing declaration of war. It is easy
to sec that that party that obstinately pronounces the other inca-
pable of making peace, is itself determined against it. Few
st, ites would carry on war, if their rivals would please to submit
to their yoke. It is as if a person should profess a cordial desire
and readiness to be reconciled to an enemy, on condition that th*
latter should hang himself in the next tree. This in private life
would he thought an irony, instead of an amicable overture.
What would have been said if Buonaparte had proposed to the
King of Great Britain to resign his crown and authority in favor
of a Republican form of Government or of the surviving branch
of the Stuarts, and that then he might make peace- with him?
Would it nave been enough to screen such an official outrage, to
have added a saving tdau.-,", that this was not an absolute sine
qua non ; though, till it was complied with, he must carry on "a
just and ''efensive war/' Oh no! This is only the language
which established governments hold to green usurpations — it
would not otherwise bis borne ; " it is the gibberish and patois of
all* cted legitimacy," which "the gorge of freedom rises at;" it
is outlawing a government under the mask of parleying with it;
or inviting an adversary to sign terms of peace with a pen, while
you, who set yourself up as both judge and executioner, strike
oil' his hand with an axe. A very little of this tone is fatal to
peace and liberty ; we had nothing else for near half a century.
"Lord GrenviXe en reply to the Minister of Foreign Relations
at Paris.
" Downing Street, January 4, 1S00.
"Sir, — I have received and laid before the King the two let
172 LIFE OF JN'APOLEON.
ters which you have transmitted to me ; and his Majesty, seeing
no reason to depart from those forms which hove long been estab-
lished in Europe for transacting business with Foreign States,
has commanded me to return, in his name, the official answer
which I send you herewith enclosed.
I have the honor to be, with high consideration,
"Sir, your most obedient, humble servant,
" Gre.wille."
" Note to the Minister cf Foreign Relations at Paris.
" The King has given frequent proofs of his sincere desire for
the re-establishment of secure and permanent tranquillity in Eu-
rope. He neither is nor has been engaged in any contest for a
vain and false glory. lie has had no other view than that of
maintaining, against all aggression, the rights and happiness of his
subjects. For these he has contended against an unprovoked at-
tack, and for the same objects he is still obliged to contend ; nor can
he hope that this necessity could be removed, by entering at the
present moment into negociations with those whom a fresh revo-
lution has so recently placed in the exercise of power in France;
since no real advantage can arise from such negociation to the
great and desirable object of general peace, until it shall appear
that those causes have ceased to operate, which originally pro-
duced the war,* and by which it has since been protracted, and
in more than one instance renewed. The same system, to the
prevalence of which France justly ascribes all her present mise-
ries, is that which has also involved the rest of Europe in a long
* That is. the manifestation of a desire for peace on the part of 'he
French Government has nothing todo with the question of war. so that their
hostility could not have been an, aig the causes that produced or prolonged
it. This is true : but instead of all this circumlocution and rotundity of
phrase, would it not have been better an 1 mire manly fi.»r his Majesty to
h.tve have been finally relinquished; but the conviction
* Thisagain is in the true character and keeping with that besotted pre-
sumption, which having been taught that it can do no wrong, sees and can
see only in the defeat of its own attempts at the destruction of others, a vio-
lent and unprovoked aggression on its absolute prerogative; and privileged
to confound its self-will with right reason, think- it an unquestionable right,
a sacred duty, to resort to every means to keep that privilege inviolate.
t A government that ran carry on war can make peace. They are con-
vertible terms. The changes in the French Government did not prevent
their keeping on the content, but they prevented us from closing if. by giving
hopes of their utter ruin. The factions did not produce the war, but the
war the factions.
t The fact of the crimes and miseries is undoubted: the cause of those
crimes and miseries is the only thing in question. Of course his Majesty,
with proper dignity, repelled any such imputation from himself and his
Allies, and the French people, by legitimate etiquette, mast pie id guilty to
the whole. I am tired of noMcintr these flimsy bubbles, that expire at a touch.
\ To wit. a certain perverse d ^termination not to uuderg) the fate of Po-
land, an example which was not thought to endanger the existence of civil
Bociety, though it fed the hope which led to all those horrors of which his
'Majesty complains.
MARENGO. 178
of such a change, however agreeable to his Majesty's wishes, can
result only from experience and the evidence of facts.*
The best and most natural pledge of its reality and permanence
would be the restoration of that line of Princes which for so many
centuries maintained the French nation in prosperity at home, and
in consideration and respect, abroad" — [and which, be it remem-
bered, carried on war for a great part of the last century to de-
throne his Majesty's family, on the very same principle that he
wishes to restore theirs] ; — " such an event would at once have re-
moved, and will at any time remove, all obstacles in the tvay of ne-
gociation or peace. It would confirm to France the unmolested
enjoyment of its ancient territory ; and it would give to all the
other nations of Europe, in tranquillity and peace, that security
which they are now compelled to seek by other means. j" But,
desirable as such an event must be both to France and to the
world, it is not to this mode exclusively that his Majesty limits the
possibility of secure and solid pacification. His Majesty makes
no claim to prescribe to France what shall be the form of her
Government, or in whose hands she shall vest the authority ne-
cessary for conducting the affairs of a great and powerful nation.:}:
His Majesty looks only to the security of his own dominions and
those of his Allies, and to the general safety of Europe. § When-
* Let us look at the reasonableness of this favorable alternative. The
change was to be effected in time of war. Was this the way to discourage
or to foment those internal dissensions which tore France in pieces, and
which canscl those crimes ami miseries which were the subject of so much
outward lamentation and secret triumph? Peace was refused; therefore
the French Government must carry on the war. If they did this without
judgment or success, this would be seized on as a motive for prosecuting it
with double vigor: if they triumphantly repelled the new Coalition, this
would In- made a pretence for crying out against fresh projects of ambition
and aggrandizement. There is no end of tins, nor of the contempt and
odium with which a future age will brand it.
1 It is with the existence of the Republic, not with its acts, that the other
Governments are at war ; why. then, charge the war upon its acts, except
as a cover to the' real motive, and confessedly a false one ?
X Except by bombarding her towns and landing expeditions ami brigands
on her coasts, to restore the exiled pretender.
§ A. mere verbal distinction, if the two things, security and interference
with others are inseparable
176 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ever he shall judge that such security can in any manner be
attained as resulting either from tiie internal situation of that
country, from whose internal situation the danger lias risen, or from
such other circumstances, of whatever nature, as may produce the
same end, his Majesty will eagerly embrace the opportunity to
concert with his Allies the means of immediate and general
pacification. Unhappily no such security* hitherto exists ; no
.sufficient evidence of the principles by which the new Govern-
ment will be directed ; no reasonable ground by which to judge
of stability. "j" In tin's situation, it can for the present only remain
for his Majesty to pursue, in conjunction with other Powers,
those exertions of just and defensive war, which his regard to the
happiness of his subjects will never permit him either to continue
beyond the necessity in which they originate, or to terminate on
any other grounds than such as may best contribute to the secure
enjoyment of their tranquillity, their Constitution, and their inde-
pendence.
' : Grenville.
"Downing street. January 4, liOOV'
The answer to this thinly-varnished declaration was Marengo.
Buonaparte was not the man to be stopped by a specious arrange-
ment of rhetorical common-places: he pierced the web of hollow
policy attempted to be woven round him with his sword. If not
peace, then war. On receiving the account, he said to Talley-
rand, " It could n »t be more favorable.'"' He had not yet struck
though lie meditated the blow, which made Mr. Put, who had ad-
vised and reckoned largely on the continuance of the war, ex-
claim — •'• Shut up the map of Europe, it will be in vain to
open it f>r twenty yi I ne !" The buttle of Marengo, bv
which Buonaparte broke the Continental Alliance, and seated him-
self firmly in power, though perhaps the worst-fought, the m -:
C ubtful and casual of all his viol irii s, was at the same time the
* No kind of security lias b>vn point!'."! out.
f One way to insure that object would be to let it alone: but this there
w ;~ no intenti . :' ■'. ing. Ii is tine :' ulinir. when you .'ire determined to
undermine or knock a thing in nieces, to compl-.in you do not know what
chance it has of stability.
MARENGO. 177
most daring in its conception and fortunate in its results. A
single half-hour's fighting changed the fate of Europe. This
was owing to the manner in which the scene of action was laid.
It was the most poetical of his battles. If Ariosto, if a magician
had planned a campaign, it could hardly have been fuller of the
romantic and incredible. He had given wings to war, hovering
like Perseus in the air with borrowed speed. lie fell upon his
adversary from the clouds, from pathless precipices — and at the
very moment of being beaten, recalled victory with a word. It
might be conceived, that by effecting a junction with Massena at
Genoa, and attacking the Austrians in front in the ordinary and
obvious course, he would have had a better chance of victory ;
but then the victory could not have been so complete as by
coming upon the enemy's rear and cutting oif his retreat, nor
would it have had the same effect in taking him by surprise.
Buonaparte, situated as lie was, had not merely to win a battle,
but to charm opinion. The very boldness of the enterprise was
an earnest of its success; the slightest reverse would in such
critical circumstances produce a panic ; and the First Consul,
where another might have given up the day as lost, held out with
confidence to the last, prepared to take advantage of every
chance. Faith has its miracles in war as well as in religion.
Nor is there quackery in this ; for it is fair to seize upon the im-
agination of others and disarm them of their presence of mind as
well as of their weapons. The only danger is, if this illusion
comes afterwards to bo dispelled by a reverse of fortune, both as
it emboldens others and disheartens the person himself; but no
one ever fought up against adversity better than Buonaparte (if
we perhaps except the first stunning effect of the disasters in Rus-
sia.) or, divorced from fortune, threw himself more manfully and
resolutely on the resources of his own genius and energy, doing
as much to retrieve his affairs as he had done to advance them.
On the 7th of January, 1800, (three days after the date of the
refusal of the British Ministry to treat for peace) a decree of the
Consuls directed the formation of an annv of reserve. All the
veteran soldiers were required to come forward and serve the
country under the command of the First Consul. A levy of
30,000 conscripts was ordered to recruit the army. General
9*
178 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Berthicr, then Minister at War, set out from Paris on the 2d of
April to head the troops ; the forms of the new Constitution not
allowing tiie First Consul to take the command nominally. No
sooner was intelligence received of the commencement of hostili-
ties and the turn which things were taking in that quarter, than
he judged it expedient to march at once to the assistance of the
Army of Italy ; hut he determined to cross by the Great St. Ber-
nard, in order to take the army of Mclas in the rear, to seize his
magazines, artillery, and hospitals, and to give him battle after
having cut him oil* from Austria. The loss of a single battle
would ensure the destruction of his whole army and the conquest
of Italy. This plan required much boldness, rapidity of execution,
and secrecy. The last was very difficult to attain ; for the move-
ment of an army cannot well be kept a secret. In order to con-
ceal his plan, the First Consul determined to divulge it himself
so openly, that the emissaries and agents of the Allies were led
upon a false scent, and ridiculed the pretended preparations as
a stratagem to draw oil* the Austrian Army, which was block-
ading Genoa. Dijon was pompously pointed out as the place of
rendezvous, and it was said that Buonaparte would proceed there
to review the troops, which he actually did, though there were
only 5000 or GOOD raw recruits and retired invalids assembled in
the town. This army became an object of general derision, and
caricatures were multiplied on the subject, one of which repre-
sented a boy of twelve years old and an invalid with a wooden
leg, under which was written " Buonaparte's Army of Reserve."
Thus atlectcd ridicule and contempt were the weapons with which
they began, and by being persevered in throughout, succeeded at
last, for greatness sustains itsell by an eilbrt, hut. sinks easily to
the level of the meanness and littleness of mankind !
.Meantime the real Army of Reserve had been firmed, and was-
readv to march. La Vendee having been pacilied under the
Consular Government, a considerable portion of the troops was
drawn without inconvenience from that, country. The regiments
composing the guard of the Directory were no longer required to
keep things quiet at Paris and went to join the army. Many of
these regiments had not served in the disastrous campaign of
V7!J9, and retained their spirit and confidence unimpaired. The
MARENGO. 178
artillery was sent piecemeal from various arsenals and garrisons.
The greater part of the provisions, necessary to an army which
had to cross barren mountains where nothing eatable was to be
met with, were forwarded to Geneva, embarked upon the Lake,
and laftded at Villeneuve, near the entrance of the valley of the
Simplon. On the 6th of May the First Consul left Paris for
Dijon, and arrived at Geneva on the 8th. He here had an in-
terview wkh the celebrated Necker, who strove to recommend
himself to his favor, but with little success. He praised the mili-
tary preparations going on much, and himself more. On the 13th
of May, Buonaparte reviewed the vanguard of the Army of Reserve
at Lausanne, commanded by General Lannes ; it consisted of
six old regiments of chosen troops, perfectly clothed, equipped, and
appointed. It moved immediately forward to St. Pierre ; the di-
visions followed in echelon, amounting in all to 30,000 fighting
men, with a park of forty guns, and under the command of Victor,
Loison, A r atrin, Boudet, Chambarlhac, Murat, and Monnier.
There is a road practicable for artillery from Lausanne to St.
Pierre, a village at the foot of the St. Bernard, and from St. Remi
to Aosta on the other side. The difficulty then lay in the ascent
and descent of the Great St. Bernard, a difficulty so great as to
appear nearly insurmountable. General Marescot had been sent
to reconnoitre ; and on his reporting that the passage seemed
barely possible, Buonaparte replied, " Let us set forward then."
The way over Mount Cenis presented the same obstacles, and the
countrv beyond was more open and exposed to the enemy. There
is only a rugged mountain-path over the St. Bernard, which often
winds over almost inaccessible precipices. The passage of the
artillery was the most arduous task. The guns had been taken
in pieces, and the carriages, the ammunition, together with the car-
tridges for the infantry and mountain-forges, werctransportedon the
backs of mules. But how get the. pieces themselves over ? For this
purpose, a number of trunks of trees, hollowed out for the recep-
tion of the guns, which were fastened into them by their trun-
nions, had been prepared beforehand; to every piece thus secured
a hundred soldiers were attached, who had to drag them up the
steeps. All this was carried into effect so promptly that the
march of the artillery caused no delay. The troops themselves
ISO LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
made it a point of honor to be foremost in this new kind of duty ;
and one entire division chose to bivouac on the summit of the
mountain in the midst of snow and excessive cold, rather than
leave their artillery behind them. Throughout the whole passage
the military bands played, and at the most difficult spots the
charge was beaten to give fresh animation to the soldiers ; while
the cry of the eagle was faintly heard, and the wild goat turned
to gaze at so unusual a sight. Field-forges were established at
the villages of St. Pierre and St. Remi for dismounting and
mounting the artillery. The army succeeded in getting a hun-
dred waggons over.
On the 10th of May the First Consul slept at the convent of
St. Maurice, and the whole army passed the St. Bernard on the
17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th of May. Buonaparte himself crossed
on the 20th, either on foot or riding a mule belonging to one of
the inhabitants of St. Pierre, which the Prior of the convent had
recommended as the most sure-footed in all the countrv. His
guide the whole way was a tall robust youth of twentv-two, who
conversed freely with him, answering the questions that were put
to him, and confiding all his troubles to the First Consul with
the simplicity of his age and situation in life. Xapolcon took no
notice of Ills distresses, hut on parting with him, gave him a notfi
to the superiors of the convent ; and the next day, he was sur-
prised to find himself in possess! >n of a house, a piece of ground,
and of all he wanted. — The First Consul rested an hour at the
convent of the Hospitallers, at the top of the Great St. Bernard,
and performed the descent on a sledge down an almost perpen-
dicular glacier. The horses had more difticultv in descending
than in ascending, though tew accidents happened. The monks
of the convent were well provided with stores of wine, bread and
cheese ; and each soldier as he passed received a large ration
from the good father-.
On the 10th General Lannes arrived with the vanguard at
Aosta, a town abounding in resources, and on the 17th reached
1 ) ' m, where he attacked and routed a corps of 4000 or 5000
Austrians, who had been stationed there for the defence of the
place. The army thought every obstacle had been surmounted ;
it was marching through a fine valley, with plenty of every
MARENGO. 181
thing, and mild weather, when all at once its progress was
stopped by the appearance of Fort Bard ; an interruption which
was quite unlooked-for, but which had liked to have proved fatal.
This fort is situated between Aosta and Ivrea upon a conical hill
and between two mountains at fifty yards distance from each
other; at its foot flows the river Doria, the valley of which it
absolutely bars; the road passes through the fortifications of the
town, which is walled, and is commanded by the fire of the fort.
The engineer-officers of the vanguard who approached to recon-
noitre, reported that there was no passage except through the
town ; and General Lannes having attempted a coup-de-main
which failed, the panic spread rapidly in the rear, and orders
were even given for stopping the passage of the artillery over the
St. Bernard. But the First Consul, who was at Aosta, immedi-
ately repaired to Fort Bard, climbed up the rock of Albaredo on
the left-hand mountain, which overlooks both the fort and the
town, and soon discovered the possibility of taking the latter.
There was no time to be lost : on the 25th at night-fall the 58th
demi-brigade, led by Dufour, scaled the wall and gained posses-
sion of the town, which is only separated from the fort by the
stream of the Doria. During the night the fort poured grape-
shot at half musket-distance upon the French, but without dis-
lodging them ; and at last the fire ceased, out of regard to the
inhabitants.
The infantry and cavalry passed one by one up the path of
the mountain, the same which the First Consul had climbed, and
which had hitherto been trod only by goatherds. On the follow-
ing night the artillery-officers and gunners took their guns
through the town, using every precaution to hide the knowledge
of the circumstances from the Commandant of the fort : the road
was covered witli litter and dung, and the pieces concealed under
brandies of trees and straw, were drawn bv men with cords in
the most profound silence. Thus was a space of several hun-
dred yards traversed, close under the batteries of the fort. The
garrison, though suspecting nothing, made occasional discharges,
which killed or wounded a number of gunners ; but did not damp
the general zeal. The fort did not surrender till the 1st of June,
the French at that time having planted several cannon on the
10
182 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Albaredo, which thundered on the batteries below. Had the
passing of the artillery been -delayed till the capture of the fort,
the chief hopes of the campaign would have been lost. Thus
do the greatest events depend on the most trifling causes; and
so little would the best-laid schemes avail without presence of
mind in the execution and ingenuity in providing for casualties
as they arise ! — The First Consul knew of the existence of Fort
Bard, but believed it to be of no importance. The Commandant
dispatched letter after letter to Melas to infirm him of the march
of a large army with cavalry by a path of steps in the rock on
his right, but assured him that not a single waggon or cannon
should follow ; and on the surrender of the fort, the officers were
surprised to learn the manner in which the whole French artil-
lery luu! passed within pistol-shot of them. Had it been imprac-
ticable to convey the artillery through the town, the First Consul
would have taken up a position at the entrance of the passes at
Ivrea (which would have forced Melas to fall back from Nice)
and there awaited the taking of the fort.
Meantime, from the 1st of Mav, Melas had been marching
troops on Turin, which he entered in person on the 22d. On the
game day the French General Turreau attacked the outposts on
Mount Cenis with 3000 men, made himself master of it and tooK
up a position between Susa and Turin, which gave the Austrian
General some uneasiness. On the 24th Lannes arrived before
Ivrea, which being defended chiefly by cavalry or the troop?
which had been beaten at Chatillon, he easily took it, the enemy
retiring behind the Chiusella to Romano, whence lie was driven two
davs after in disorder upon Turin. The advanced guard imme-
diately took po^scssi u of Chivasso, whence it intercepted the
passage of the J'", and seized a great many boats laden with pro-
is and wounded soldier-;; and where on the 2Sth Buonaparte
reviewed the vanguard, harangued and bestowed merited eulo-
giums on the corps that composed it. A feint having been made
to throw a bridge of boats over the I'm. Midas weakened his troops
covering Turin and detached a larcrc part of his forces to the
I'iirht bank of that river to oppose the constructing of the bridge.
Tins aavc the First Consul an opportunity to operate upon Milan
unmolested. An Austrian officer who was known to Buonaparte,
MARENGO. 183
came to have a parley at the outposts ; the intelligence he car-
ried back to Melas had the effect of a thunderbolt upon him. The
whole Army of Reserve, with its artillery, arrived at Ivrea on
the 26th and 27th of May. A corps of 2000 Italian refugees, un-
der General Lecchi, had on the 21st moved from Chatillon upon
the Upper Sesia, met with the legion of Rohan, which it defeated,
and taken up a position in the valley of Domo d' Ossola to se-
cure the passes of the Simplon. Murat was at Vercelli ; and
Moncey's corps with 15000 men detached from the Army of the
Rhine, reached Belinzona, on the 31st of May.
The head-quarters of the Austrian army were at Turin, but
half the forces were at Genoa, or scattered in the Col di Tende. In
these circumstances three courses were open to Buonaparte.
First, to march upon Turin, repulse Melas, join Turreau and
open a communication with France : but this would be to risk a
battle with a formidable enemy without a certain retreat, Fort
Bard not being yet taken. Secondly, he might pass the Po, and
join Massena under the walls of Genoa; but this would be liable
to the same objection without any general object. Thirdly, he
might leave Melas behind, retire upon Milan, and there join Mon-
cey, who had just debouched by the St. Gothard. The last plan
was the most eligible, and that which he fixed upon. For by
being once in possession of Milan, he could secure all the maga-
zines, depots, and hospitals of the enemy's army; give him battle
with this incalculable advantage, that if beaten, he would have
no retreat, while his own would be safe by the Simplon and St.
Gothard; or if he chose, he might let Melas pass uninterrupted,
and he would thus without striking a blow remain master of
Lombanly, Piedmont, the territory of Genoa, and raise the block-
ade of that capital. The Simplon led to the \ T alais and Sion,
whither the magazines of the French army had been forwarded.
The St. Gothard led into Switzerland, which was covered by the
Army of the Rhine then upon the Iller, and which had been for
some time in possession of the French, such precautions affording
too strong a temptation to a people that are declared to be in-
capable of maintaining the usual relations of peace and amity!
On the 31st of May the First Consul moved rapidly upon the
Ticino ; and after a sharp resistance by the Austrian strangling
184 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
troops (General Girard being; the first to pass the river) the object
was effected by the help of four small boats. He entered Milan
on the 2d of June amidst the general rejoicing of the inhabitants,
who were surprised at seeing him at the head of the troops, it
having been reported that he had perished in the Red Sea. He
remained here for six days, receiving deputations and showing
himself to the people, who welcomed him as their liberator. The
government of the Cisalpine Republic was restored ; but a con-
siderable number of the warmest Italian patriots languished in the
dungeons of Austria. How many more groan thereat present!
A proclamation was addressed to the army, promising them as the
result of their efforts ■• unclouded glory and solid peace." Gen-
eral Moncey's division came slowly up. The First Consul re-
viewed them on the 6th and 7th of June, and on the 9th set out
for Pavia, which Latinos had occupied on the 1st, as Duhesme's
division had entered Lodi and Mantua without opposition just
after. Murat surprised Placenza by a coup-de-main, and intei-
cepted a dispatch from Vienna full of the most groundless reports.
Fort Bard had fallen on the l^t.
Melas now quitted Turin and appeared to direct his march on
Alexandria to the right of the Po. The First Consul therefore
detached Lapoype's division to line the Po from Pavia to the
Doria Baltea, and to watch the side opposite Placenza ; deter.
mining himself to move on Stradella, in order to cut off Melas
from the road to Mantua and c >mpel him to receive battle with
his line of operations intersected by that river. General Lannes
passed on the Gth at Belgiojoso, opposite Pavia ; on the 8th Murat
left Placenza, defeated an Austrian corps which had come up to
attack him, and moved on Stradella, where the whole army was
uniting. In the midst of these preparations, news came of the
taking of Genoa, which had surrendered on the 4th. Besieged
bv the Austrians by land and blockaded by the English Admiral
) by sea, it had been pressed by famine; the inhabitants
gn-w impatient, and on the 2<\ of June the women assembled tu-
multu lUsly, demanding "Bread or deatli !"' Every thing was to
be apprehended from hunger and despair: and Massena pro-
mised, if he were not relieved by the approach of some of Napo-
leon's troops in twenty-four hours, to capitulate. The next day
MARENGO. 18-)
Adjutant-General Andrieux, who was sent to General Ott to
treat for the evacuation of the place, met an Austrian staff
officer in the General's ante-chamber who was the bearer of a
dispatch from Melas to raise the siege and to proceed in all haste
upon the Po. Thus critically situated, he was glad to accede to
Massena's proposals, and to let the French garrison of 10,000
men march out with their arms and baggage. Napoleon blames
him for not marching at their head to join Suchet at Voltri and
then facing about to attack the rear of the Austrians; but not
knowing the real state of affairs, he had agreed to let them pass
out without a leader, and proceeded himself with 1600 men in
vessels to Antibes. Napoleon therefore had now to trust to him-
self alone. Ott left Hohenzollern in command of Genoa, and
came up by forced marches to join the main body of the Austrian
army on the Po. This reinforcement amounted to thirty battal-
ions or about 18,000 men. Ott's grenadiers, which formed part
of it, were accounted the flower of the Austrian troops.
On the evening of the 8th, the enemy's scouts came to observe
the French bivouacs on the right bank of the Po. General Lan-
nes with the whole French vanguard routed a body of 4000 or
5000 Austrians who advanced to attack him, not supposing the
whole army to have crossed over ; and at night he took up a posi-
tion in view of the Austrian camp which occupied Montebello
and Casteggio. He had no inducement to make an attack, hav-
ing only 8000 men, and expecting reinforcements from Victor's
division which was only three leagues off; but the Austrian
General brought on the battle at day-break. The contest was
bloody. Lannes as well as the troops under him behaved with
the greatest intrepidity. About mid-day Victor came up and de-
cided the event. The field of battle was strewed with the dead.
The Austrians fought desperately, being sensible of the danger
they were in, and still bearing in mind the successes of the last
campaign. They lost a great number of killed and prisoners.
When the First Consul arrived on the ground, every thing was
over. The troops, though worn out with fatigue, were overjoyed
at their success. On the 10th, 11th, and 12th Buonaparte re-
mained at Stradella, getting his army together, and securing it?
retreat by throwing twc bridges across the Po. He sent messen
16*
1SG LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
gers to Suchet to hasten his march upon the Scrivia. There was
now nothing to hurry him, Genoa having fallen. It was dangerous
to descend into the plain of Marengo to engage the enemy, who
were greatly superior in cavalry and artillery, which could do
little against his position at Stradella, with the Po and the adjoin-
ing marshes on his right, large villages in front, and considerable
eminences to the left. During the battle of the 11th, Desaix,
who had returned from Egypt and had been performing quaran-
tine at Toulon, arrived at the head-quarters at Montebello, with
Rapp and Savary. The whole night was spent in conferences
between him and the First Consul on all that had passed in Egypt
since the latter had quitted it — the ncgociations of El-Arisch, the
composition of the Grand Vizier's army, and the battle of Helio-
polis. Uesaix burned with eagerness to distinguish himself: ho
was immediately entrusted with the command of the division oi
Boudet.
Melas had his head-quarters and his whole army at Alexandria.
He did not move, though his situation was critical and became
more so every day, with Suchet in his rear and Buonaparte oppo-
sed to him in front with an imposing force, lie might, however,
either cut his way through the First Consul's army with superior
numbers ; or reach Milan by swift marches on the left bank of
the Po, before the French could re-cross that river; or retreat
upon Genoa, join the English squadron, and regain Mantua and
the Adige by the ports of Italy. It was in providing against these
various chances (some of which probably never entered Melas's
head) that Napoleon nearly lost the buttle of Marengo as he after-
wards did that of Waterloo, by dividing his attention with over-
jealous importunity over all that was possible, instead of confining
his of Forts to the main point. When all is at stake, it is better to
guard against the worst than to aim at the utmost poinl of perfec-
tion. In consequence, General Lapoype was ordered to fall back
upon the Ticino, to intercept the enemy, should he be moving ir
that direction, and Desaix was dispatched to the extreme left
observe the high-road from Alexandria to Novi ; while Buona
parte, uneasy at Melas's inaction, crossed the Scrivia on the morn-
ing of the 13th, and marched to San Juliano in the midst of the
plain of Marengo, in vain looking for an enemy there. He slept
MARENGO. 1S7
/hat night at Torre di Garafola. Melas hearing of the advance
of the French into the plain, recalled a detachment which he had
sent against Sachet. The night of the 12th was passed in coun-
cil. The blame of their situation was thrown upon the Austrian
cabinet, who had listened to none but idle rumors ; but they de-
termined to fight their way out of it with arms in their hands.
The chances were greatly in favor of the Austrians, who were
superior in numbers and had three times as many cavalry as the
French. The latter amounted to between 23,00J and 3J,0J0
men.
On the 14th at break of day, the Austrians defded by the
bridges of the Bormida and made a furious attack on the village
of Marengo, where Victor had established himself the day before.
The resistance was obstinate for a long time. Buonaparte at the
first sound of the cannon instantly sent orders to General Desaix,
who was half a day's march to the left, to return with his troops
to San Juliano. The First Consul arrived on the field of battle
at ten in the morning, just as the Austrians had carried Marengo
and Victor's division, after a gallant defence, was giving wav in
the utmost disorder, the fugitives covering the plain, and crying
out in dismay, '• All is List !" The enemy having taken Marengo
advanced against General Lannes who was stationed in the rear
of the village, and formed in line opposite the right wing of the
French, already extending beyond it. The First Consul imme-
diately ordered 800 grenadiers of the cavalry-guard, the best
troops in the army, to station themselves a thousand yards be-
hind Lannes, inclining to the right, in a good position to keep the
enemy in check ; and directed the division of Cara St. Cvr still
farther on to Castel-Ceriolo, so as to flank the entire left of the
enemy, while he himself with the 72d demi-brigade hastened to
the support of Lannes. In the mean time, the soldiers perceiv-
ing tin' First Consul, in the midst of this immense plain, sur-
rounded by his staff and 200 horse-grenadiers with their fur caps,
the sight revived their hopes, and the fugitives of Victor's corps
rallied near San Juliano in the rear of General Lannes's left.
The latter, though attacked by the main b >dy of the enemy's force,
fought with such bravery and coolness that he took Three hours
to retreat only three quarters of a league, exposed to the grape-
IS8 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
shot of eighty pieces of cannon ; at the same time that Cara St
Cyr hy an inverse movement advanced upon the extreme rightj
and tinned the left of the Austrian line.
About three o'clock in the afternoon, the corps of Desaix came
up. On seeing the disorder of the troops, he said, "Well, it is a
buttle lost ! : ' Buonaparte replied, " I think it is a battle gained."
lie made Desaix take a position in front of San Juliano. Melas
who believed the victory decided, withdrew to Alexandria, over-
come with fatigue, and left General Zach to finish the pursuit of
the French arm v. The latter, thinking that this army was effec-
ting its retreat by the road from Tortona, directed all his efforts
to reach that place before them by carrying San Juliano at the
point of the bayonet; though, had retreat been necessary, Buona-
parte had at the commencement of the action ordered it between
Tortona and Sain, and the Tortona road was of no importance.
The division of Victor had now rallied, and showed signs of im-
patience to renew the contest. All the cavalry was collected be-
fore San Juliano. on Desaix's right and Lannes's left. Balls and
shells showered into the place ; and Zach had already gained
possession of a part of it with a column of G060 grenadiers. The
First Consul gave orders to General Desaix to charge this column
with his fresh troops. He proceeded to do so accordingly; but
as he advanced at the head of a troop of 200 men, he was shot
through the heart by a ball, and fell dead at the instant he had
given the word to charge. By his death Napoleon was deprived
of the man whom he esteemed most worthy to be his second in.
the field. He shed tears for his loss, never speaking of him after-
wards without regret; and he, was one of those who lie believed
would have remained faithful to him to the last. Ilis death did
not disconcert the troops, but inspired them with greater ardor to
avenge it. General Boudet led them on. The 9th light demi-
brigadc did indeed prove itself worthy of the title of Incomparable.
General Kellermann with 800 heavy horse at the same moment
boldly charged the middle of the left Hank of the column, cut it
in two, and in .less than half an hour these G000 grenadiers were
broken, dispersed, and put to flight. General Zach and all his
E f afF were made prisoners.
Lannes immediately charged forward. Cara St Cyr, who was
MARENGO. m
to the right and flanked the enemy's left, was nearer the bridges
of the Bormida than they were. The Austrian army was thrown
into the utmost confusion and only thought of flight. From S000
to 10,000 cavalry spread over the field, fearing St Cyr's infantry
might reach the bridge before them, retreated at full gallop, over-
turning all in their way. Victor's division made all imaginable
speed to resume its former position at the village of Marengo.
The pressure and confusion at the bridges of the Bormida was
extreme, and all who could not pass over fell into the power of
ttie victor. It would be difficult to describe the astonishment
and dismay of the Austrian army at this sudden change of for-
tune. General Melas, having no other resource, gave his troops
the whole night to rally and take some repose, and the next morn-
ing at day-break sent a flag of truce with proposals for an ar-
mistice, by which the same day Genoa and all the fortified places
in Piedmont, Lombardy, and the Legations were given up to
the French army, and by which the Austrian army obtained
leave to retire behind Mantua without being made prisoners of
war. Thus was the conquest of all Italy achieved by a single
bl6V.
Melas obtained such favorable terms from an apprehension that
in case of a refusal he might still effect his junction with the
English Army of 20,01)0 men who had just arrived off Genoa
and the Austrian garrison of 10,000 men at that place, and be-
cause the French had no strong places in Italy. General Suchet
marched upon Genoa and entered that city on the 24th of June,
which was given up to him by Prince Hohenzollern to the great
mortification of our troops who had come in sight of the port.
The Italian fortresses were successively given up to the French,
and Melas passed with his army through Strabella and Placenza
and took up a posi'non behind Mantua. Soon after the battle of
Marengo, the Italian patriots were released from the Austrian pris-
ons and returned home amidst the congratulations of their coun-
trymen and cries of ''• Long Jive the Liberator of Italy/" There
were no Italians thrown into prison in Buonaparte's time. Either
therefore the Italians must have been more favorably inclined to
the new order of things or his rule was much milder than the
Austrian. Buonaparte set out from Marengo for Milan on the
•90 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
17th; he found the city illuminated, and a scene of the most ani.
mated rejoicings at the change which had taken place. Genoa
recovered its Republican form of government. The Austrians
when in possession of Piedmont had not reinstated the King of
Sardinia on his throne, notwithstanding the expostulations of the
Russians, nor allowed him to approach Turin. The First Consul
established a provincial government in Piedmont, and appointed
General Jourdan to superintend it, in order to give him a mark
of his confidence, and efface old misunderstandings. Massena,
notwithstanding his unlucky surrender of Genoa, and as an ac-
knowledgment of his services at the battle of Zurich, was left in
the chief command of the Army of Italy.
In France the news of the battle of Marengo was at first
scarcely credited. The first account that reached Paris was
orought by a commercial express who had set out from the field
of battle between ten and twelve o'clock, and reported that the
French Army had been totally defeated. This only made the
contrast more striking, when the victory over the enemy was
made known with all its attendant advantages to the Republic.
But can it be believed (as is said) that on this mere report of a
defeat all the intriguers were in motion to displace the First Con-
sul and place Carnot at the head of the government in his stead ?
Oh ! ever prone to run before opinion, and to rivet disgrace upon
themselves by shrinking from all participation in misfortune! It
mav be supposed that Buonaparte took no slight umbrage at this
me litated dereliction, and looked gloomy on his return amidst all
the lustre which wreathed his brow, perhaps presaging future dis-
loyalty, or brooding over sweet and bitter thoughts of the curbs
which a people required! lie is said from this time to have
conceived a jeal ju-y and distaste to Carnot, which subsequent
bickerings did not diminish. They came' together at last in the
common calls', in the pass of Thermopylae . This storv however
re^ts on no good authority, though it is not improbable in itself.
The so! liers of the Army of the Rhine when they heard of the
battle of Marengo were ashamed of having done so little, and
avowed ,i n tble emulat: hi not to lav down their arms till they had
done something to match it. The battle of Ilohenlinden followed
nol 1 .'M_ r after. Moreau pursued his victory, taking possession of
MARENGO. I9i
Salzburg: Augereau, at the head of the Gallo-Batavian Army,
penetrated into Bohemia, and Macdonald passing through the
Grison country into the Valteline, formed a communication with
Massena. The peace of Luneville was the reluctant consequence,
by which Tuscany was ceded to France, and the whole left bank
of the Rhine. Each of these conditions was peculiarly galling
to the Emperor, because Tuscany belonged to his brother ; and
as to the provinces on the Rhine, he objected to giving away what
was not his to bestow. Had the question been to take what did
not belong to him, there would have been less difhcultv.
Buonaparte set out for Paris the 24th of June through Turin,
crossing .Mount Cenis, and stopped at Lyons for some time to
gratify the curiosity of the inhabitants and to lay the first stone
of the Place Bellccour, which had been pulled down in the begin-
ning of the Revolution. He arrived at Paris on the 2d of July,
unexpectedly and in the middle of the night ; but the next clay, as
soon as the news was spread abroad, every one ran to testify their
eagerness and joy ; the laboring classes left their occupations,
and the whole city thronged round the court and windows of the
Thuilleries to sec him to whom France owed another respite from
bondage with such unlooked-for triumphs. At night every house
was illuminated, even the poorest inhabitants taking part in the
general rejoicing. It was a day, like which few occur in history ;
yet in this instance how many such were crowded into the life of
a single man ! The Pillar of Victory still stands in the Place
Vendome ; and the French, reduced to their natural dimensions,
sometimes stop to wonder at it.
102 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE INFERNAL MACHINE.
Foreign war and intestine commotions having failed, recourse
was next had to assassination, to get rid of the head of a govern-
ment which promised no stability, and every truce or peace with
which was held to be a kind of profanation — or null and void,
like a forced compact with robbers. Both the Royalists and
Jacobins agreed in this as their forlorn hope ; the last seeing in
Buonaparte an immediate obstacle to the execution of their plans,
the f»rmcr seeing in him (let his acts and pretensions be what
they would) the utter extinction of the principle from which, ac-
cording to them, all power ought to flow. This coincidence
alone, had they been capable of attending to any thing but their
own headstrong will which they mistake for reason, should have
given the violent Republicans pause ; for li the children of this
world are wiser in their generation than the children of the light,"
and the satellites of power are led by an infallible instinct to
what promotes their cause, are steady and consistent, and alwavs
take the surest means to their one sole end. The friends of lib-
erty on principle (divided as they are among themselves and dis-
tracted by various theories) have only to look as a practical guide
to their conduct to the enemies of liberty on principle. Thev
cannot be far out, while they oppose the common foe face to face
and hand to hand. As long as Buonaparte remained a stumbling-
block and a bug-bear to the latter and they bent all their eilorts
of open force or secret machination against him, he should have
been still regarded as on the broadest scale, the refuge and the
rock of salvation of the popular side. They might wish to get
lid of him as a matter of taste or reasoning: in point of fact,
they could not do without him. He himself had great dread of
the Jacobins, as was but natural, and which showed the secret af.
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 19-i
finity between his cause and theirs. " 'Tis conscience that
makes cowards of us all." He knew from experience what
tncir feelings and principles were; and as the attraction was
stronger, the repugnance and struggle to disentangle himself from
them was proporiionably violent, as men hate the vices to which
they are most prone. As to the opposite pretensions, they ap-
pear to him like mere shadows or a faded pageant. He never
( n'ered into the essence of royalty, or he would not have trusted
himself to it. He might assume it as a robe, but it never made
a | art of the man. He on this account pronounced royalism to
be a disease of the skin, but Jacobinism to be " an internal dis-
order," because he felt it within himself. lie declared that
" with a company of grenadiers he would put the whole Fauxbourg
St. Germain to flight, but that the Jacobins were an incorrigible
set to deal with." It would not appear so by the event. If
the first are easily put to flight, at least they return to the charge ;
and they do so. because they are governed not by reason but by
custom, and are the creatures not of circumstances or experience,
but of implicit faith and old allegiance. The motto of legitimacy
and of all belonging to it is in a word inveterate prejudice with-
out reflection and power borrowed from accident : Buonaparte
was originally and unalterably the reverse of this, the very coun-
terpart and antidote to it ; intellect without prejudice and inhe-
rent power and greatness. He did not even seem to comprehend
the reverence due to antiquated absurdity nor the omnipotence of
eternal imbecility.
The first attempt made was by some discontented Italian patri-
ots. — Arena, brother to the deputy who was said to have aimed a
dagger at Buonaparte in the Council of Five Hundred, with
whom were united Ceracchi and Diana, two Italian refugees, To-
pino Lebrun, a painter, and two or three more enthusiasts in a
low condition of life. Italians have long been in the habit of re-
sorting to the dagger for a worse cause than that of removing a
tyrant or imitating the example of their countryman Brutus.
One of these men had been a great admirer of Buonaparte, anil
had made a statue of him during his first campaigns in Italy ;
but lie afterwards grew dissatisfied with his conduct, and deter-
mined to take his life. For this purpose, he solicited permission
vol. n. 10 1?
194 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to make another model ; but his heart failed him when the timo-
came. The conspirators then formed a plan to assassinate the
Chief Consul at the Opera-IIouse. They were betrayed by an
accomplice, and two of them, Ceracchi and Diana, were ar-
rested by the police behind the scenes, armed and prepared to
execute their design. Buonaparte spoke slightly of the attempt :
" a look," he said, " from his brave guard would have discon-
certed them." The circumstances were not made public, nor
were the conspirators brought to trial till the repetition of similar
attempts seemed to make an example necessary. Yet on such
frail threads did the hopes of cabinets at this time depend that
Talleyrand declared in the Council of State that " the affair of
Ceracchi and his associates had interrupted all diplomatic commu-
nications for a considerable time, particularly with the Emperor
of Russia, who broke oil* a treaty in consequence, and made it ne-
cessary to re-open the campaign !"
Soon after, a man of the name of Chevalier with anothci
named Yeyccr, who belonged to the old terrorist faction, con-
trived a plan to kill the First Consul by means of an Infernal
Machine, or a barrel of gunpowder stuck round with grape-shol
and pieces of old iron, and placed in such a manner as by the
assistance of a slow match to explode at the moment when the
First Consul was passing through the street. A man who had
been employed to lay caltrops, so that the carriage could not
move (Mi, told his suspicions to the police. The experiment was
tried in the outskirts of Paris, and the explosion led to the discov-
ery and arrest of the parties, so that the scheme' never came to
anything, though it was hushed up for reasons of policy. The
Royalists became acquainted with these men in prison and with
the plot they had hatched, and readily conceiving that "the sov-
ereign's! thing on earth"' was such a remedy for a desperate
cause, in their hands it had very nearly produced the effect in-
tended by it. A letter from the Count ile Lille to Buonaparte,
inviting him to restore the Crown < f France to him. having been
answered with cold politeness, and a mission of the beautiful
Duchess of Guiche to Paris to insinuate the same gracious pro-
ject having ended in her receiving orders to quit the country, it
was time to exchange those persuasive arts for stronger measures
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 195
On the evening of the 10th of October 1800, Buonaparte had
agreed to go to the Opera ; but afterwards being unwell or
fatigued by business, changed his mind and wished to stay at
home. Josephine and one or two friends who were with him per-
sisted in urging him to go, and came to a couch where he had
fallen asleep and waked him at the time. One brought him his
hat, another his sword. He was in a manner forced into his car-
riage, where he again fell fast asleep and was dreaming of pass-
ing the Tagliamento, when all of a sudden he awoke amidst noise
and (lame. He had passed this river in great peril by torch-light
thn e or four years before, when his carriage was set afloat by
the stream ; and the flashes of fire and sudden lifting up of the
carriage by the explosion on the present occasion, no doubt, pro-
duced the coincidence in his dream. The circumstances were
these. A cart bearing the barrel of gunpowder with the other
implements of destruction as described above, had been placed by
two of the conspirators, Carbon and St. Regent (who had been
Cliouan chiefs) at the corner of the Hue St. Xicaise, where the
First Consul had to pass, in such a manner as to intercept the
progress of the carriage which had hardly room to get by. St.
Regent had set fire to the match at the appointed instant; but the
coachman, who was intoxicated, driving unusually fast, the car-
riage had passed the machine a second or two before it went off,
which defeated the project. The explosion was terrible. It
readied the horse of the last man of Buonaparte's guard, shat-
tered the windows of the carriage, killed eight persons, wounded
twenty-eight (among the rest the incendiary St. Regent), and
damaged a great number of houses. The report was heard for
several miles round Paris. Buonaparte immediately exclaimed to
Lannes and Bessieres who were with him in the coach, '• We
are blown up !' ; They would have stopped the carriage, but he
ordered it to drive on, and arrived in safety at the Opera, where
the noise had been heard, and where his entrance, together with
the disordered looks of his attendants caused great agitation : but
the calm appearance of the First Consul re-assured the audience,
and the performance, winch was Haydn's Creation, went on.
Buonaparte's coachman. Ca?sar, remained the whole time insen-
sible of what had happened, and had taken the explosion for the
196 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
firing of a salute ; but a dinner having been given him by nig
brother-coachmen in honor of his escape, a hackney coachman
who was present said he knew who had played him the trick,
having seen the cart issue from a stable-yard near which lie took
up his stand : and this clue led to the discovery of the real authors
of the conspiracy.
In the mean time, Buonaparte was furious against the Jacobins
and against the Minister of Police, whom he accused of conniv-
ing at their plots and machinations. At several Councils of State
which were held upon the subject, he declaimed against the meta-
physicians, went back to the Septembriscrs, the affair of Babceuf,
the 31st of May, constantly exonerated the priests and the Roy-
alists, and charged the whole upon a handful of miscreants, who
were invariably at war with all established governments and with
the peace of society. Fouche by his sullenness and reserve did
not remove these suspicions, though he persisted in ascribing the
attempt to the Chouans and their party. The First Consul wished
for an act of summary justice against the remains of the Jaco-
bins, which after several impatient discussions and considerable
reluctance on the part of the Council of State and the Legislative
Body he obtained • and 130 of the principal agitators (men ob-
noxious from their share in the Reign of Terror, such as Chou-
dieu, Taillefer, Thirion, Talot, Felix Lepelletier, Rossignol, and
others) underwent a sentence of transportation, which was car-
ried into instant elTect, though some of them were allowed to
return at a subsequent period. An attempt was made by Ber-
ber* to save two of them, Talot and Destrem, from being pun-
ished for a crime of which it was very soon known thev had not
ih en guilty; but this met with a cold reception from the First
Consul, who said they had been condemned as enemies of the
State, and referred in proof to the act of the Legislative Body, in
which not a word was said of the lt)th of October. This was
vindicating injustice by chicanery.
\ month after the affair had happened, the Minister of Police
* At the time that Buonaparte was accused of favoring the Royalists too
much, lie addressed Madame Monge. an 1 said, '• You will he sat isfiel with
me to-day, f have appointed three Jacobin* to the Council of State."' —
" Who are they. First Consul .'"' — :: 1'o'al. "rune, and Burlier,"' was the reply.
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 197
made his report on the attempt of the Infernal Machine. He harl
the contrivers in Ills custody ; and they turned out (as he had all
along predicted) to he agents of the Royalist party. He entered
into a detailed account of the plot to assassinate the First Consul
as brought over from England by Georges Cadoudal in the
November preceding, of the landing of his accomplices Carbon,
Joyan, Lincelan, St. Regent, &c, of their intrigues, and the im
penetrable mystery which involved them. At length, the horse
which had been fastened to the Infernal Machine afforded some
traces; and led to the seizure of Carbon, who being found
secreted in the house of two nuns, Madame Goyon and Madame
de Cice, made a discovery of the whole affair. These gentle-
women, in secreting a public assassin, were doubtless influenced
by mistaken motives of piety and loyalty. St. Regent and Car-
bon were condemned, and suffered on I he scaffold, though they
were tried before the ordinary tribunals and in common course
of law ; which made the arbitrary decree which had been passed
against a number of innocent individuals appear in a more unfa-
vorable light. Nothing can excuse Buonaparte on this occasion
but the imminent peril he was in, and the previous attempts
against his life by fanatics of the same party, which had worked
up his old grudge against them to a pitch of violent irritation ;
and which having once fixed his purpose, he would not relin-
quish it when the immediate grounds were removed. It is hard
for a man to be shot at like carrion because he is not a piece of
well-preserved mummy by one party or a man of straw bv the
other ; and in the distraction of the moment, he will wreak his
vengeance on the first object that presents itself. I cannot help
entertaining some doubt, that there was from the beginning an
understanding between Fouche and Buonaparte, and that tin*
detection of the true conspirators was postponed till the blow had
been struck against the pretended ones, who were equally for-
midable to him, whether he looked to past events or future con-
tingencies. If they could not brook the First Consul, how should
tin- Emperor escape ? The silence and inaction of so complete
a double-dealer as Fouche are suspicious. The other conspira-
tors, Chevalier and Veycer, and Arena, Coracchi, and tliei''
coadjutors were soon after tried and executed. The Republican
IDS LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
faction made no more attempts of the kind. It was not till after
repeated experience that Buonaparte became convinced, that
those who act on their own impulses and from a love of liberty
and independence are less dangerous than those combinations,
where in the casting of the parts the principals are safe and re-
mote, and where the subordinate agents are merely blind and
servile instruments in the hands of their superiors. The bands
of Chauffeurs or Chouans who infested the public roads, and kept
up a daring and clandestine communication between intriguers
in the capital and foreign powers were the occasion of the ap-
pointment of a special tribunal to try such offences. No coach
could venture to leave Paris without a guard of four soldiers.
This has been considered as a stretch of ungovernable ambition
and a stride to absolute power. It was surely a measure also of
private self-defence and public safety. The Orangemen are
supposed to justify the promulgation of military law in Ireland ;
as a few spouting-clubs produced the suspension of the Habeas
Corpus in England. — When Mr. Fox was over in Paris in 1802,
he used to have frequent and warm disputes with the First Con-
sul on the subject of the Infernal Machine, the latter laying the
blame of it on the English Government, and the former vehe-
mently repelling the charge on the ground that no Englishman
would lend his countenance to assassination. This argument
showed his own patriotism and honesty ; but the feelings of a
nation change with its maxims, and these are impaired by the
cause in which you embark and the associates whom you select.
Mr. Wyndham in his love of paradox and extreme abhorrence of
the principles of Jacobinism might see the matter in a very differ-
ent li< r ht. It might br> thought a courtesy to foreign manners as
well as a compliment to foreign princes — who were franticly
calling out, <; (Jive us a tomb or a throne !' ; — adroitly to remove
the o-reat impediment to the latter; and members of the British
Cabinet might be found then as well as twenty years after to
ask, — " What is the death of General Buonaparte to us,"
whether owing to a sudden explosion or a lingering climate ?*
* For a further elucidation of a certain under-tone in English casuistry
on this subject at the period referred to. see an elaborate article on tyranni-
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 99
cide in a paper called "The Friend," by S. T. Coleridge. "The ghost is
an honest ghost," and speaks, I'll be bound, no more than was set down for
him. This shows how much the national spirit must have been altered,
and how strong the tide must have set in to the support of legitimacy by
the most unwarrantable means, when the finest intellects could not escape
the general contagion, and could only avoid general obloquy by withdraw*
imr into privacy or lending themselves to the basest prostitution.
200 LIFE OF NAPOLEON'.
CHAPTER XXX
PEACE OF AMIENS.
Buonaparte had erected Tuscany into a kingdom, and given
it to the Duke of Parma, an Infant of the House of Spain, under
the title of the King of Etruria. lie and his wife* paid a visit
to Paris in May 1-^Ul. It was on this occasion that the audience
at the theatre enthusiastically applied to Buonaparte the verse —
'• J'ai fait des rois. Madame, et n'ai pas voulu l'etre."
The Count of Leghorn (fur it was under this title that he travel-
led) turned out a very poor creature according to common report,
and it was on this account that Buonaparte had him shown osten-
tatiously about, "to let people see how a king was made. It was
enough to disgust them with royalty." There was more policy
than honesty in this proceeding. It might seem by this as if he
had not at the time a design of becoming one himself, though still
it was tampering, as it were, with the subject ; and it was obvi-
ous to infer that the diadem which he gave to another, he might
bind on his own brow. He must certainly feel that he was made
of vcrv diilbront stud' from ordinary kings. When I think of
that fine head (so unlike a crowned head.) of those Republican
bands led bv freedom to victory, and that severe and almost an-
* Maria-Louisa, si-tor nf Ferdinand VII. of Spain, since Duchess of
Lucca. The late Duchess of Lucca was universally hated f >r her avarice.
insolence, and duplii-ity. T live an instance of the manner in which these
pi [ile in . ." ii-'' nf religi n in 1 autle rity as a screen fur the most nion-
sti'nus i>r the most petty vices, -le' had ordered a costly oh mdelier to orn.a-
r priv :te cha] el ; li it the tra ! sman w] '. . i m ide it. knowing : er
utter dUre^ard of pecuniary obligations, was unwilling to part with it till
be had been paid the money. On this, she prevailed upon him to hang it
up under the pretence of seeing the eilect. ■• There!" says she, " now it ia
consecrated property ; take it down at your peri! !' ;
PEACE OF AMIENS. 201
tique simplicity of aspect which France presented as a contrast to
the Gothic frippery of her old government and the rest of Europe, I
am still willing to believe that the changes which were afterwards
carried into effect were alien to his own breast, were a concession
to those who prefer the tinsel to the gold, and were forced from
him (in sullen scorn and defiance) by the persevering determina-
tion to annul and disallow all claims (how sterling or lofty soever)
but those which are founded on external sound and show. Wo
shall see that he himself speaks with great confidence and com-
placency of the favorable impressions made on foreign Courts by
his surrounding himself with the usual paraphernalia and sym-
bols of power.
The Allies certainly reckoned on the loose and fluctuating
mass of power in France, as the great means of disuniting and
subduing it, either by want of concert in the armies or by the
collision of the different factions. The danger on this side, at
least, Buonaparte averted by taking the reins into his own hands,
and giving unity and stability to the State ; and come what would,
France thus secured the great principle of the Revolution, the
right of changing her existing government for one more congenial
to it ; like England, which had altered the succession, but retained
the forms of her established Constitution. The Continental
Powers saw the advantages which the new Government derived
from the change ; and though they did not hate it less, feared it
more : —
:: Like to a sort of steers.
'Mongst whom some beast of strange and foreign guise
Unwares has chanced, far straying from his peers; •
So did their ghastly gaze betray their hidden fears.''
The Emperor Paid alone, the most rash and splenetic amongst
them, seemed to swa'iow the bait entire ; and disappointed at tire
ill-successes of his troops under Suwarrow, and disgusted with
the exclusive maritime claims set up by the English and their
selfish conduct, made common cause with Buonaparte, and gave
himself up to his admiration of the man as a kind of infatuation,
disre^ardinir the political principle for the sake of the dramatic
effect. This soon led to his own tragic end. His new associate
10* "
202 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
did not neglect the opportunity to ingratiate himself with Paul.
The English had refused his request to give up Malta to the
Knights of St. John of Jerusalem ; Buonaparte sent him the
sword which Pope Leo X. had given to the Grand Master, L ; Ile
Adam, for his defence of Rhodes against the Turks. The Eng-
lish ministry refused to include 8000 or 10,000 Russian soldiers
taken either in Italy or in Holland under the Duke of York's
command, in an exchange of prisoners ; Buonaparte had them
collected together, clothed and equipped, and sent back to Russia.
Napoleon also sent a French actress to St. Petersburg}}.
The Queen of Naples, alarmed at the part her court had lately
taken against the French, and at the defeat of General Damas
soon after the battle of Marengo, made a journey express to Peters-
burgh to solicit the intercession of the Emperor Paul ; and at his
request Buonaparte spared Naples. The Czar was overpowered
with so many marks of courtesy and generosity. He was ready
to run his errands, to do bis bidding, to " put a girdle round about
the earth" or close U p the passage of the seas for him. He lent
a favorable ear to a project tor marching a joint army of French
and Russian troops through Persia to the Indus, and entered
heart and hand into the armed neutrality of the North. He ad-
dressed a letter to Buonaparte couched in these terms: "Citizen
Firsl Consul — I do not write to you to discuss the rights of men
or citizens : every country governs itself as it pleases. Wherever
J sec at the head of a nation a man who knows how to rule and
how to li^ht. my heart is attracted towards him. I write to ac-
quaint you with niv dissatisfacti in with England, who violates
everv artiel law of nati >ns, and lias no guide but her ego-
ti-m and interest. I wish t i unite woo y o t > put an etui to the
ngs of that g wernm-mt. 'Pins alludi s to 1
in' tits a* this time mad.' by the English in the right of
- ntvh at sea. verv neces>ary perhaps as a measure of securitv
t i give laT the uneoiitrulb d c iimnand of the sea. hut contrarv to
red es'ablish d eu-eom and to all previ ais treaties. The Ameri-
. . is'e i u It 1 1 the vi ileiiee f the [)i n :■• irv. and pr iv >\i d
• : ■ •- f T ' jieeulati /U. bad fir s ime time
■• iiii th" I'higlisli n iiie to war with Frn nee ;
i - ' iken b\' the Firs! ' ' insul res: >re I the friendlv inter-
PEACE OF AMIENS. 203
course between the two nations. Denmark, Norway, and Swe-
den, who were at peace with England, enraged at seeing their
fleets and vessels stopped on the high seas as interlopers by Eng-
lish cruisers, and dragged into English ports as felons, joined with
Russia to resist such arbitrary and unadmitted claims. The Em-
peror published an edict to seize on all British goods and subjects
in his dominions ; the three great northern fleets were to assem-
ble in the Baltic and to be prepared to act offensively in the spring
of 1801. The Danes took possession of Hamburgh, thus cutting
off the navigation of the Elbe; and Prussia, like a gaunt hound,
did not scruple to seize on Hanover (the independence of which
it was especially bound to guarantee) as a mark of the good faith
and disinterestedness of regular governments towards eacli other.
This maritime coalition was broken up by two events, by the gal-
lant and desperate attack of Nelson on the Danish fleet in the
Sound (in which he ran all the risks of bravery and genius,
though with less than his wonted success) ; and by the death of
the Emperor Paul, who was assassinated in the night of the 23d
of March, 1801, by those of his own household. His son suc-
ceeded him. The death of a sovereign seemed to cost little, so
that the sovereigntv survived ; the historic Muse did not put on
mourning for the occasion, nor did Europe talk of waging eternal
war against those who had thus staggered the person of an anoint-
ed king. The ashes of a monarch are no more than common
dust, unless when the tree of liberty rises out of them ; as regi-
cide, sacrilege, treason, arc words of slight import, provided they
arc not coupled with the rights and happiness of millions. It is
then that both princes and people stand aghast, and (strange as it
may seem) league together for mutual safety and support ! On
the arrival of the news in London, instead of the Russian Ambas-
sador receiving his passports, Lord St. Helen's proceeded forth-
with to Petersburgh. Buonaparte, who might think they would
us" little ceremony with him, if they turned round in this manner
on one of their own clique, was the only person who seemed
shocked at it ; and his ministers had some difficulty in recalling
to his mind that it was no more than the common mode of dispos-
ing of arbitrary sovereigns in despotic countries. Paul's succes-
sor, not willing to afford a similar triumph to the zealots of reli-
204 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
gion and social order, hearkened to the counsels of his father's
murderers. 'I lie Northern Powers acquiesced (perforce) in the
maritime claims advanced by England ; Denmark gave up Ham-
burgh, Prussia let go its grasp on Hanover, and things remained
much on the same footing as before on that side of the Continent.
Soon after, in June, 1801, Buonaparte, in concert with Spain,
marched an army into Portugal, took Olivenza and Almeida, and
forced the Prince-Regent of Portugal (who was son-in-law to the
King of Spain, and the close and strenuous ally of England) to
conclude a separate peace and shut its ports against the English.
In the mean time, Malta had surrendered to the English fleet ;
and the French forces in Egypt, attacked and beaten by the Brit-
ish army under Sir Ralph Abercrombie, who was killed in mak-
ing good his landing in March, 1801, were compelled to capitu-
late and return to France in June the same year. Thus the
English remained masters at sea, the French by land ; each na-
tion had pushed its advantages to the utmost : and this state of
equilibrium and uncertainty what farther to attempt, if not an ar-
gument for peace (considering the objects at stake and the irrita-
tion of political feeling), was at least a favorable opportunity for
taking breath and collecting all their strength for the meditated
blow, before this unnatural struggle was renewed to the complete
triumph or absolute destruction of one or the other party. France
fought for its own existence or for the continuance of the new
order of things, and in this object it had triumphed ; England
fought confessedly (or with a purpose, if only darkly avowed, not
the less fixed and rooted) for the re-establishment of the ancient
order of things or of what was called social order, which could
not be effected without the total subjection of France. In this
object it had failed ; and therefore it was easy to foresee (accord-
in" to the common course of events and operations of men's pas-
sions) on which side the temptation with the watchful desire to
renew the contest would li< — on theirs who had secured the ob-
ject for which they took up arms, or on theirs who had been
baffled in their attempts to dictate a government to another coun-
try on the plea of just and necessary defence, which plea could
never be waiving while a hope remained or an opportunity offered
for overturning the independence and government of the rival
PEACE OF AMIENS. 205
Stale. There was time enough for bringing this great and mighty
question to an issue ; and there was no danger that the motives
for recurring to it would cease with intermission or reflection.
The sense of disappointed revenge does not rankle less in the
breast of monarchs for being long brooded over ; and peace or war
is always in their own hands. It is easy to make or find the pre-
texts. Besides, new ones were wanted, the old ones not only
having failed of success, but being the least palatable possible.
The Peace of Amiens, therefore, was acceded to after some re-
luctance and " face-making," not to prevent future animosities
and effect a true reconciliation, but it was a sponge to wipe out
old scores and begin the game over again on a new ground. —
Some threats were indeed thrown out, and some preparations
were made after the evacuation of Egypt for an invasion of Eng-
land ; but these were neither serious nor formidable, and ended
in nothing but Lord Nelson's scouring the Channel so that not an
enemy's fishing-boat could appear in it and blockading the French
flotilla in the harbor of Boulogne. The preliminaries of peace
were signed 10th October, 1801, to the general joy of the people
of Great Britain ; but so much did the swallowing of this bittei
pill go against the stomach of the higher authorities, that it took
five months, till the March of the following year, to adjust the
particulars of the treaty. .Mr. Pitt went out of office on the occa-
sion, and Mr. Addington succeeded to keep his place warm for
him on his return to it. The colonies which the English had
taken during the war (which was all they had got by it) were for
the most part restored ; Malta was to be given up under a gene-
ral guarantee to the Knights of St. John : and it was the refusal
to comply with this stipulation that was the immediate cause of
tho renewal of the war a twelvemonth after. — To resume the ac-
count of one or two other points.
Buonaparte, soon after his accession to the management of af-
fairs, proposed to strike from the list of emigrants all but those
who had held an important rank or taken a distinguished part in
foreign armies or in the bands of insurgent royalists; or those
among the clergy who refused to take tho oaths of allegiance to
tho government. In consequence, they presented themselves in
crowds and of all classes, and nearly all the members of the First
13
206 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Constituent Assembly, who had fled, returned to France. Du-
ring the absence of the First Consul in Italy, at the time of the
battle of Marengo, Cambaceres had gone beyond his instructions
in enlarging the list of exceptions : on his return Napoleon found
among the number of those who were allowed to come back,
several great names that had borne arms against France. lie
testified considerable dissatisfaction and chagrin at this. Pie con-
sulted with Berlier whether these erasures could not be recalled,
as having been procured by false certificates of civism. " There
are five or six thousand emigrants," he said, " whom it is at all
events necessary to prevent from returning to the country to
trouble its repose, unless they pass over our dead bodies. Bui
out of a hundred thousand persons wandering in exile, the most
dangerous and hostile have contrived to return because they
could afford to bribe the police; a duke could get himself struck
off the list, while a poor man remained on it. : ' On an objection
being made to the unpopularity of some part of the laws respect-
ing emigration, the First Consul replied, " What signifies the
opinion of the saloons and busy-bodies ? There is only one
opinion that I care for, that of the common peasants." Not long
after, to show the temper and views of the class of persons thus
readmitted (as it were on their parole) to the bosom of their coun-
try, Buonaparte was at the theatre to witness a play, called " Ed-
ward in Scotland," in which the emigrants and royalists made
constant applications of different passages to the Bourbons, and
found a parallel between the Consular Government and the suc-
cessiot) of the House of Hanover; and it was observed that the
most violent and continued interruption proceeded from a box di-
rectly opposite the Firs) Consul's, belonging to the Duke i :
sen', one of the emigrants who had been shipwrecked at Calais
some years before, and whom Buonaparte had released from prison.
The piece was suppressed, and the emigrants and royalists ex-
claimed bitterly against the tyranny of the First Consul.* Such
the difficulties and straits to which he was reduced bv the
-• I >u]».-itcl. the author of a piece c die 1 ■■ The Three Valets." and which
W;:- erroneously suppose! to reflect on the three consuls, had every amends
made him by Napoleon for the first ebullition 0/ his resentment, as soon as
ihe mistake was discovered.
PEACE OF AMIENS. 207
attempt to reconcile different prejudices and parties, the safety of
the State with humanity towards individuals, the foundations of
liberty with the exercise of power. It would have been easy for
Buonaparte to have lent himself to either extreme of old preju-
dices or new principles, but to combine and hold the balance be-
tween them was not so easy. He might have brought back the
Bourbons or the Revolutionary Tribunals ; or he might have per-
mitted the uncontrolled liberty of the press and been covered with
the imputation of crimes like a leprosy; or have suppressed the
police and laid his breast bare to the assassin's knife; or suffered
the Allies to overrun France without striking a blow ; or have
retired into private life with the bonlwmmic and self-denial of a
simple citizen ; and he would have pleased many people. But
how to enforce authority in the midst of party rage without being
accused of tyranny; how to repel the aggressions of all Europe
without being railed at as a conqueror; how to secure the peace
and tranquillity without infringing on the freedom of the country,
how to conciliate religious scruples without bringing back the
spirit of intolerance and superstition ; how to avail himself of
powerful interests and great bodies in the State without attacking
liberal institutions and the rights of all ; these were problems which
it was beyond the power of the strictest logic or the giddiest ro-
mance to answer. Had he tried to hold the balance less even
between the conflicting interests, or had he inclined, whenever
there was a doubt, to the right instead of the expedient, I do not
say he would have succeeded better, but I think he would have
deserved to succeed better. Being himself new, he should have
taken his stand on what was new; and all public acts and insti-
tutions having a prospective operation, instead of cleaving to an-
tiquity, should make an advance to futurity, for that is the direc-
tion in which the world moves, not backwards but forwards. O-
what was temporary, and arising out of actual emergencies, migh'
have been arbitrary ; what was permanent, ought to have been
just and liberal. It is not true, however, that he owed his ruin
to his running counter to the liberal maxims and spirit of the age.;
these indeed failed him when he needed their support, and they
his ; — had he appealed to them sooner, they would perhaps have
sooner betrayed or compromised him by their imbecility or vio-
208 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
lence. The only obstacle he found fatal or insurmountable wa«
the besotted bigotry of Spain, or the barbarous attachment of the
Russians to the soil on which they are serfs. It will hardly be
insisted that the opposition of England would have been disarmed
by Ins making nearer approaches to the standard of modern phi-
losophy. He himself said, that " it had been wished for him to
have been a Washington ; but that had Washigton been in hi
place, surrounded with discord within and invasion without, he
would have defied him to have done as he did." In the discus-
sions of the Council of State, Cambaceres was considered as re-
presenting the opinions of the old aristocracy, Lebrun those of
the modern republicans: Buonaparte was called the consolidated
third; and in acting as umpire between the two and listening to
their arguments, had not the less difficulty in mastering both.
The Concordat, though a favorite and long meditated scheme,
was attended with many difficulties in the execution and unpleas-
ant consequences in the sequel. After the battle of Marengo,
Napoleon had ordered Murat, who had marched against the Nea-
politan troops, to spare Rome, and had restored his temporal do-
minions to the Pope ; in return for which he was to give to France
her old religion and a new sovereign. The treaty was signed
the 1-th of September, 1301. A proclamation of the Consuls
notified the re-establishment of the Catholic worship some time
afier ; and on Easter Sunday (1S02,) the new ordonnance was
solemnly carried into effect at Paris. All the great bodies of the
state, the civil authorities, and the Consuls repaired with great
pomp and ceremony to the Church of Notre-Dame. As a proof
how little regular progress had been made in etiquette, there were
stiil several hackney-coaches in the procession. It was on this
occasion for the first time that the household of the First Consul
put on livery. An invitation had been addressed to the public
functionaries and members of the diplomatic body to follow the
example. Mass was performed with pontifical magnificence bv
Cardinal Caprara. The new bish ps took the oath of allegiance
to the Republic. After a discourse delivered by M. de Bois^e-
lin, Archbishop of Tours (the same who had preached the sermon
on the coronation of Louis the XVI.) a Te Deum for the general
peace and the re-establishrnent of the church concluded this reli-
PEACE OP AMIENS. 209
gious ceremony, with which every kind of military pomp was
mingled, and which was announced to the capital in the morning
hy discharges of artillery. At night there was an illumination
and concert in the garden of the Thuilleries. The peace of
Amiens and the Concordat became the favorite subjects of the
French artists. The Exhibition of that year was resplendent with
allegorical cars of victory and triumphal arches of peace, as fine
and as evanescent as the rainbow !
The military had a great repugnance to the now arrangement,
and there was some art used in getting them to attend the cere-
mony at Notre-dame. Berthier invited the principal to breakfast
with him, whence he took thorn to the First Consul's levee, so
that they could not excuse themselves from accompanying him.
On their return, Buonaparte asked Delmas what he thought of
the ceremony 1 He replied, " It was an admirable capucinade.
All that was wanting to complete it was a million of men who
have sacrificed their lives to overturn what you are trying to re-
establish !" This' sarcasm did not go unpunished. Rapp, who
was privileged to say what he pleased, being asked if he should
go to mass, answered the First Consul in the negative ; but
added he had no objection to the priests, " provided he did not
make them his aides-de-camp or his cooks." In fact, from the
little esteem in which they are held, the French priests to this
day look like fellows who have stolen something. In Italy, they
have none of this dejected, sneaking look ! After the Concordat
the decade was regularly exchanged for the week, and the
public offices were shut on Sundays. The adoption of the new
system cost Napoleon more uneasiness and trouble than was sus-
pected. The refractory priests gave themselves great airs upon
H : the Fope became more untractable than before. The clergy
were constantly urging claims inconsistent with the existing laws
and manners of society; and with any other man than Buona-
parte, would certainly have resumed their ancient preponderance
or brought new calamities on themselves. Scandalous scene
ensued. The curate of the church of St. Roeh having refused
to read the funeral service over the remains of a Mademoiselle
Chameroi, a female opera-dancer, the populace were near ston-
ing him ; and Monge said dryly, " It was a dispute of one se
is*
210 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of actors against another." The First Consul put a stop to these
proceedings ; but was it possible to suppress the spirit in which
they originated, and which lurked under tiie cowl and surplice,
like the plague in tainted robes ?
The affairs of St. Domingo were another rock on which this
double policy split. What was he to make of that gigantic group
of black heads ranged round the standard of revolt 1 Was he to
proclaim their unqualified enfranchisement and natural indepen-
dence and to extend to them all the benefits of the Declaration
of flights, in disregard of circumstances and consequences ?
This cosmopolite philanthropy would be contrary to all his max-
ims and principles of government. Was he to resolve on their
absolute subjugation or indiscriminate slaughter? This would
be equally repugnant to humanity and prudence. What then
was he to do ? After considering whether he could not play off
tne men of color against them (like chess-men on a board) he
resolved with great justice and moderation to adopt a middle
course, that is, to maintain the system which Toussaint Louver-
ture had established, to disarm the men of color, to extend
Toussaint's authority over the whole colony, to appoint him
commander-in-chief of St. Domingo, and to confirm his regu-
lations respecting the civil liberty and voluntary labor of the
blacks.
All now went on well for two years (1800 and 1801.) But
Toussaint himself defeated the friendly intentions of the First
Consul and the prospects of his countrymen, instigated, according
to Buonaparte, hv the English, who foresaw the ruin of their own
system, should the blacks restrain themselves within the bounds
of moderation and propriety in submission to the mother-country.
Toussaint threw off his dependence and set up for himself. It is
curious to hear Buonaparte's complaints on this occasion. He
savs, " To give an idea of the indignation which the First Consul
must have felt, it may suffice to mention that Toussaint not oidy
assumed authority over the colony during his life, but invested
himself with the right of naming his successor; and pretended
to hold his authority not from the mother-country, but from a soi-
disant, colonial assembl} which he had created." Recourse was
therefore had to the former scheme of joining with the men of co-
PEACE OF AMIENS. 211
iOr against the blacks, and General Le Clcrc was sent out with a
considerable armament for this purpose. The expedition was at
first successful, and Toussaint surrendered himself and was suf-
fered lo remain in the island ; but being afterwards detected in a
clandestine correspondence with the English, he was seized and
sent a prisoner to France, where he died in consequence of his
confinement. The war after his departure broke out afresh ; the
most shocking excesses were committed on both sides ; and Le
(Merc with a great part of his troops having fallen victims to the
yellow fever, the negroes remained in possession of the govern-
ment of the island. To show the severity of Buonaparte's char-
acter in public affairs, he compelled his sister Pauline (the wife
of General Le Clerc) to accompany him on this hazardous expe-
dition, in order to lessen the dread which was entertained of it.
The behavior of Buonaparte to the colonists has been violently
censured both by friends and foes. His conduct was not cer-
tainly modelled on the maxim — Fiat, justitia, ruat cce.lv.ni; it was
not that of a romantic and impassioned enthusiast in the cause of
negro emancipation ; neither was it (as has been pretended) that
of a fiend, but a great deal too much of an ordinary statesman
and man of the world. His detractors might learn, with a little
self-reflection, from their censures of him to form a juster esti-
mate of their own idols. The worst of his actions are only on a
par (a degrading one, I own) with the best of theirs. A similar
treatment of a revolted colony of ours would make a brilliant
episode in the life of a Lord Melville or a Lord Bathurst. Buona-
parte at first showed every consideration for the blacks ; and he
only grew moody and exasperated when he found her chief colony
torn from France and in danger of being thrown into the hands
of England. His jealousy on that head instantly turned the
scab 1 . Alas ! the way to outstrip us would have been in the
race of generosity and magnanimity, and not by trying to be
foremost in that of selfish policy or unfeeling cruelty ! The death
of Toussaint-Louverture was one of those topics on which the
tropes and figures of political rhetoric at one time delighted to
dwell. As it took place in a castle in Franche-Compte and not
m the streets of London, no one could say how it had happened ;
dark hints were thrown out, and it became a painful mysterj,
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
over which imagination drew its worst colors, and malice and
prejudice left no doubt of the truth ! After so many stories of
the kind have been proved to be equally groundless and im-
probable, one might suppose that this would have been discarded
with the rest, as a lawyer flings up a shameless brief; but there
are some minds that seem eaten up with the measles of servility,
and whom neither the height of genius nor universal fame can
raise above that low pitch of moral thinking that is to be found at
the second tables of the great. — Buonaparte had some qualms on
the subject of making the blacks of St. Domingo free, and leaving
those of Martinique and other islands in slavery, which inconse-
quentially he, proposes to remedy by a law declaring that "the
blacks shall be slaves at Martinique and at the Isles of France
and Bourbon ; and they shall be i'vcc at St. Domingo, Guada-
loupe, and Cayenne:'' as if this geographical separation could
stifle the pulse of liberty when it had once begun to beat, or the
fitness of Lhe blacks for slavery or freedom could be dependent
on positive enactments. Napoleon labors hard at the point of
amalgamating the blacks and the whites by the medium of poly-
gamy, and states that he had held several conferences with theo-
logians on the subject. But this expedient would degrade mai
riage instead of raising the blacks, as long as the whites con-
tinued masters at home. Would Buonaparte marry a French
piiucess to a black chieftain? No: but till then, his system
would have no relation to the polygamy of the Fast.
Thr establishment of the Polytechnic and other schools on the
mo.st extensive and best-digested plans, carried instruction and
improvement to everv part of France. Buonaparte beasts of
his munilieeiic" and exertions in this respect, ami justlv remarks
that none but a bad government need fear the information of the
people, lb' merely strove to keep the direction of this power-
ful engine of public opinion (by giving to the government the
choice and payment of the teachers) as much as possible in his
own hands :— it' he had not, there were plenty of other hand- into
which it would soon have fallen. The Institute had been founded
by the Convention; and contained nearly all the talent and sci-
ence of France. Some surviving members of the old French
Academy, who regarded themselves as the fine gentlemen of let-
PEACE OF AMIENS. 2i3
ters and affected to look upon the Institute as a society of me-
chanics and revolutionists, undertook to set up an opposition to the
latter under the auspices of Lucien Buonaparte, who was partial
to this sort of pedantry and tinsel, during the absence of his
brother at Marengo ; but soon after, the lofty pretensions of the
Academicians were quashed, and they were admitted as the se-
cond class of the Institute. In France science was associated
with the period of the Revolution, as poetry and the belles-lettres
were referred to the age of Louis XIV. In England, on the con-
trary, science is patronized in the fashionable circles as proving
nothing; while elegant literature and the study of humanity are
studiously banished from or barely tolerated in our polite lecture-
rooms, whatever appeals to sentiment and imagination being
thought dangerous. The Fine Arts were courted and encour-
aged under the Consulate. Admired pictures were purchased by
the government ; and distinguished or promising young artists
had splendid apartments assigned them in the Louvre. A colos-
sal bronze statue of Nicolas Poussin was cast in compliment to
French art. Josephine had a real taste and relish for works of
art, which her husband had not ; but whenever she contrived to pro-
cure any precious chef-d'oeuvre for her private collection, Buona-
parte said he felt himself robbed of it, because it no longer belonged
to the public and to France. To show his sense of the value of
men of genius, he declared at a later period that had Corneille
lived in his time he would have made him a prince. He did not
disdain to be the personal friend of Talma ; nor did Talma ever
repay this distinction with ingratitude or baseness. Equal atten-
tion and encouragement were given to the fine and the mechanic
arts, to agriculture, manufactures and commerce. In consider-
ing the relative value of the three last, Napoleon gave the prece-
dence to agriculture, which raises the means of subsistence ; se-
c >nd, to manufactures or handicrafts, which produce the conve-
niences and ornaments of life ; third, to commerce, which ex-
jes what is superfluous for what is deficient in these. M ith
respect to foreign commerce, he decided with his usual keen and
comprehensive glance in favor of the principles of free trade
against monopolies. The correctness and soundness of his views
are indeed acknowledged on all hands, with the sole exception of
814 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
what related to his own personal power and ambition ; but there,
it should be remembered, others did not leave him a free choice.
Bridges were constructed, roads were laid out, canals dug, which
extended the inland navigation from the south to the north of
France, from Marseilles to Amsterdam, harbors scooped out or se-
cured, forests planted, new products in cultivation imported, the
brewed of different kinds of cattle improved. The roads over
Mount Cenis and the Simplon were projected and begun, the
noblest ever executed by the hand of man ; and public monu-
ments, buildings, and embellishments were scattered through the
capital and the principal towns in France with a prodigal and be-
nevolent hand. The finances were at the same time kept in the
greatest order; public peculators and jobbers were discounte-
nanced and punished ; every general plan, almost every indi-
vidual detail was submitted to Buonaparte's immediate notice j
and in his own household the strictest economy was combined
with the utmost magnificence. lie examined the accounts, kept
an eye on the purveyors; and descending to the minutest details,
was like some other princes who have nothing else to do, his own
butler, steward, and upholsterer. On one occasion, thinking the
charge for some silk-hangings with gold buttons extravagant, he
took one of the buttons in his pocket and walked out into one of
the streets in Paris to ask the price of it. The affairs of Europe,
the army, the police, the administration of justice, prisons, the press,
public works wore all undm - his constant inspection and control.
Often, after laboring all day in overlooking papers or comparing
plans, dispatches came, and he sat up all night to read and an-
swer them, llis secretaries were worn out with tin 1 fatigue,
lie went through all this accumulation of labor himself with so
little effort and so little need of anv stimulus but the importunate
activity of his own mind, that he \in was capable, be wished
' > e iiiceutrate more and more within himself, and to make the
portentous responsibility hereditary. The only fault of all that
lie did 1'ir France was, that though it rocived the sanction of
the general opinion, it emanated almost solely from himself, and
there was no provision to check the abuse of discretionary power
PEACE OF AMIENS. J>J5
or to secure the continuance of its beneficial tendency. To be
sure, there was no danger that the pride in creating should be
joined with rapacity in appropriating ; and a score of well-in-
formed men, who were Buonaparte's confidential advisers in all
cases and who had risen from the people, might be supposed in
the immediate circumstances to represent the people, as a bucket
of water taken from the ocean is the same everywhere. There
were at this time no distinct classes with peculiar advantages and
privileges, always prepared to vindicate their own rights, and to
impede the public good. Buonaparte clearly identified the for-
tunes, well-being and glory of France with ids own ; and it was
only by straining the point to the utmost (and by chance) that the
bubble burst and relieved the world from paying the penalty of
the full chastisement they had so richly merited.
What Buonaparte himself laid the most stress on, and regarded
as the sheet-anchor of his fame, was his code of laws. This was
a work of great labor, judgment and utility. It reduced the
chaos of the ancient contradictory and arbitrary laws of France
into one just and simple plan. Mr. Landor, though a declared
enemy of Buonaparte, owns that he has left the best system of
laws in Europe. The gainer of so many laurels surprised those
about him more by his insight into jurisprudence than he had
done by his knowledge of government or his achievements in war.
His coadjutors in preparing and framing the Code jSapoleon were
Tronchet, Rcederer, Portalis, Thibaudeau, and others. The First
Consul presided at the greater number of the meetings of the
Council of State where the subject was debated, and took a ver^
active part in the discussions, which he himself provoked, sus-
tained, directed, and re-animated. Unlike certain orators of his
Council, lie did not seek to shine by the roundness of his periods,
the choice of his expressions, or the mode of his delivery. He
spoke without preparation, without embarrassment or pretension,
with the freedom and case of conversation, growing warmer with
the effects of opposition and the developement of various ideas on
the subject. He was inferior to none of the Council; he was
equal to the ablest of them in the readiness with which he seized
on the point of the question in the justness of his remarks, and
the force of his reasonings. He surpassed them all in the happi-
216 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ness and originality of his expressions. Many persons pretended
to believe (for mankind like to resolve the great into the little)
that Loere, the secretary, had given a certain coloring to the style,
but it is shown in the admirable " Memoirs of the Consulate" by
Thibaudeau, that he uniformly weakened and impaired it. The
First Consul was as frank and candid as he was strong in debate.
" It is important," he said, "that what men like the citizen*
Tronchet say should be accurately reported, for it will carry an
authority with it. As to us, men of the sword or finance, who
are not jurists, it signifies little what wo think. I have said things
in the heat of discussion of which I have seen the error a quarter
of an hour afterwards ; but I do not wish to pass for better than I
am.'' Napoleon thus characterizes some of ins fellow-laborers in
the Council. "Tronchet is a man possessed of a vast fund of in-
formation and an extremely sound judgment for his age. I find
Rcederer feeble. Portalis would be the most imposing and elo-
quent speaker, if he knew when to have done. Thibaudeau is
not adapted for this kind of discussion ; like Lucien, he requires
the tribune, where he can give himself full scope. Cambaceres
is the advocate-general ; he states both sides. The most difficult
of all is the summing up, but in tiiis Lebrun leaves every one
behind."
We have a striking account of wdiat passed in the interior of
the Thuilleries and of Buonaparte's own mind on the two great
points of his advancement to power and the renewal of the war
in the same 'authentic and impartial work. The particulars are
too important and characteristic to be omitted here. Josephine
appears to have been kept in continual alarm by the projects in
agitation respecting the establishment of hereditary succession
and her own divorce as connected with it. As fir back as the
explosion of the Infernal Machine, she said to Rcederer, who was
attacking Fouche, •' Those are Buonaparte's worst enemies who
wish to inspire him with ideas of hereditary succession and di-
vorce." On the appointment of Bu n parte Consul for life with
* T!ii- t'-:-;:i h:i'l not ] -' its value at the time. One of the most ani-
mated altercations in the Tribunate was in consequence of the substitution
of the term suljccts fur that of citizens, in the treaty of Russia some time
before
PEACE OF AMIENS. 217
the power of naming his successor (I Oth August, 1802) the fol,
lowing conversation took place on the subject at Malmaison.
whither the Counsellor of State N had gone on particular
business.
The First Consul. " Well, what is there new at Paris ?"
N. " Nothing that you do not know."
B. < ; What is it they say ?"
N. " They talk much of the decree of the Senate."
B. " Aye : and what is the general opinion V
N. " Some are for, others against it."
B. " And what is your own opinion ?"
N. " It is a question tried and judged."
B. " And lost ? Is it not so?"
K. " It is not dilTicult for you to guess my meaning."
B. " I do not find fault with you for it, I know you are an
honest man. But my good friend, you will be cured of your
reveries : we cannot go on as we have done. France will not be
the less free, and she will be the first power."
N. " Do von think then that a decree of the Senate and a vote
of the people* a ,- e such sure guarantees, and that you could not
have remained ' Consul without it ?"
B. " I am aw are that it is a feeble security for the interior ; but
it has a good efiect on foreign states. I am from this moment on
a level with ot'.'cr sovereigns; for by a just reckoning they are
only what they are for life. They and their ministers will respect
me more. It is, not fit that the authority of a man who takes the
lead in the ut^jirs of Europe should be precarious, or should at
least seem so."f
IV. ! ' The opinion of foreigners is of much less importance than
thai: of France."
B . " With the exception of a few madmen who only wish for
disorder, and of some well-meaning enthusiasts who dream of the
* Tli? people had voted for the Consulship for life by a majority of three
millions to a few hundred discontented voices. Carnot had protested
against it : and La Fayette had only consented to it, ou condition that the
First Consul would allow the liberty of the press.
\ This seems a fair practical answer to the doubt of stability in Lord
Grenville's Note.
VOL. IT. 11 10
21S LIFE OF XAPOLEOZN.
republic of Sparta, France is desirous of stability and strength in
the government.'"'
N. " There is a greater number of persons than you think,
who dream not of the republic of Sparta, but of the French Re-
public. The impression of the Revolution is still quite fresh,
and the transition to another order of things and ideas somewhat
sudden."
B. " The men of the Revolution have nothing to fear; I am
their best guarantee."
-V. ; - What will become of the men, when the tiling shall have
erased to exist ?" Then passing to the subject of the
designation of his successor, he approved, or pretended to approve
of X.'s opposition to the measure, who observed that four or five
of them had looked upon it in the light of an alienation of the
sovereignty of the people.
B. (interrupting him warmly) " It was Roederer who of-
ficiously brought forward this question. When 1 was told what
had passed. I said, ' Who is it you would have me choose ? One
of my brothers V The nation has indeed consented to be gov-
erned by me, because I had acquired a high degree of glory and
rendered it signal services ; but it will say that it has not for that
reason sold itself to my family. As to my successor, I know no
one who has the necessary qualifications, and whom the nation
would approve. Is it Joseph or Lucien who was supposed to
have urged this measure ?"
N. " Lucien, and that excited some apprehension : in short,
the expectation of" I know not what changes spreads inquietude
and alarm everywhere.'''
B. " What would von have ? I hear a talk of guarantees for
the nation, nf great bodies composed of the great proprietors for
life, or even hereditary."
A. "This is the j'mrth Constitution in twelve years; if we
change this, where shall we stop ?"
B. " It is b"t!er to environ the one we have with proper con
sidi rati >n. And as to these irrand c n-ps that they talk of. what
w iild tl v turn o U t when we had Hi sen thorn? Something
quite diiierent from what was proposed. They are the men of
91, who wish to come in under this imposing designation, Rcede-
PEACE OF AMIENS. 219
,- er, Mounier, La Fayette, Latour-.Maubourg, and all the rest.
Judge now, what we could expect from these men, who are
always mounted on their metaphysics of 89. The two last have
written to me to say that they would give their assent to the Con-
sulship for life, on the condition that I would re-establish the
liberty of the press. The liberty of the press indeed ! I should
no sooner have established it, than I should have thirty royalist
journals and a proportionable number of Jacobin ones start up
against me. I should have to govern once more with a minority,
a faction, and to recommence the Revolution, while all my efforts
have been directed to govern with the nation. And then again,
the opinion of these Messieurs, these grand proprietaries, would
be against the Revolution ; they have all of them suffered more
or less by it and hold it and all that belongs to it in horror. See,
I have at this moment in my hands a memorial from six sugar,
refiners. Well ! a-propos of sugar; it is nothing but a continued
diatribe against the Revolution, by which they think to pay their
court to me. Suppose, then, I have to propose to these grand
corps thus constituted, a conscription, contributions; they will
resist, they will allege the interests of the people. Let me stand
in need of strong measures in difficult circumstances; they will
be alarmed, they will abandon me through pusillanimity. If I
provoke an opposition on revolutionary principles, the nation will
not trouble itself about it. Let these grand corps organize a
counter-revolutionary opposition, and they will carry a good part
of the nation with them. It is indispensable that the Government
should iemain in the hands of the men of the Revolution ; that is
their only chance. In a word, these gentlemen would cry out
against the arbitrary conduct of Government, and not leave me a
single minister. As it is. 1 do not mind them. Not that a gov-
ernment is to be unjust, but it cannot avoid some arbitrarv acts.
1 have two hundred Chouans detained in prison ; were I to have
them brought to trial, they would be acquitted."
.V. •■ You may believe that I enter into all you have said on
lis last questior. I do not justify all the men of the Revolution ;
I speak of then in a mass; and it is only they who can defend
heir own work and the change which it has produced in the
ideas of Franco ind Europe. I: is n me but they who are your
220 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
true friends ; for you are theirs, and their surest safeguard. As
to the privileged classes, they are irreconcileable. They will
accept of places, they ask nothing better; they will dissemble,
bend, and crouch, it is their trade ; but let a catastrophe approach,
they will come out in their natural colors, and will sacrifice you
to their ancient idols. They will never really regard you as one
of themselves."
B. " I know it well ; these persons and the foreign cabinets
hate me worse than Robespierre."
N. " With respect to national guarantees, T can understand
but one — a good representative system, by which the public
wants and public opinion may be fully manifested, so as to direct,
without weakening, the action of the Government. With this,
the rest would come in time.-''
B. " Sieycs spoilt all with his ridiculous constitutions; I let
him have his way too much. You will let me hear your further
ideas.'"'
JY. (i If I am allowed to be frank. 1 '
B. (i That is understood without a word said."
Really in these circumstances, with this inertness in the peo-
ple, with this proneness to defection in the chief's, surrounded by
flatterers, forced on by the Allies, with his good sword and his
ambition in carve out his way for him. though I might wish that
another course had been pursued, yet I do not see how it could
be heiped ; and I and others who have not bowed the knee to idols
nor eaten of the unclean thing, have this at least to thank him
fjr — that fiir fifteen years, if he did not restore the vital spirit of
liberty, lie turned its tomb in - i a citadel to keep its old and dea 11 y
foes fr mi in-ukin^ over its corse, and bv being a scourge and a
terror to tyrants, could not hut save 'lie principle oi tin.' lb
t: n, while he saved himself.
While these discissions wore ponding, J s phine fluttered ah »ut,
ding with appreliensi n. listening to everv breath, and utter-
ing her dissatisfaction and doubts to all whim she e ail I interest
in her b-dialf. She seeni"d ! i shrink instinctively from this new
and pathless career, of which she only saw the danger, held Buo-
naparte back from it as from the edge of a precipice, and might
be thought to have foreseen the time when siie and her daughter
PEACE OF AMIENS. 22
would each have to lean on the arm of the Emperor Alexander,
while her Cid (hers once more in misfortune') was led away hv
barbarous and ruthless foes. She ran to me-. ' N as soon
as he retired from his audience with Buonaparte, took turn to
walk with her in the park, and looking anxiously round, began
to complain bitterly of Lucien, Talleyrand, and others. Shortly
after, she renewed the conversation. "Be sure, ; ' she said, "tney
have not given up their project of hereditary succession, and thai
it v.T.l take place sooner or later. They are desirous that the
First Consul should have offspring, by no matter wnom, and that
1 should afterwards adopt it ; for they are sensible how much
Buonaparte would do himself wrong, were he 10 put away a wife
who was attached to him at a time when he was without power,
and to whose daughter he has married his brother. But never, I
have told him. would 1 lend myself to such infamy. Besides, it
is a mistake to imagine the people would allow a spurious off-
spring to succeed. 1 cannot help thinking that in that case Lu-
cien would try to enforce his pretensions. They will begin by
doing all they can to alienate Buonaparte from me. They have
hinted at a handsome allowance, if he \v>tc to divorce me; but 1
replied, that if that were to happen, I would take n thing from
him. I would dispose of my diamonds and purchase a country-
house, where I could live happily enough, would they only let
me do so. It is only within these fvw days that poor Ilortense
has felt some slight illness, though she is in her ninth mouth: 1
tremble at the thought, in consequence of the infamous rep rts
which have been spread abroad. When I said so to Buonaparte,
he replied, 'These rumors have been credited by the public or.lv
because the nation wished me to have a child.' I told him he
deceived himself greatly, if he supposed these stories had any
such motive, and that it was his enemies who circulated such
calumnies. But this answer of Buonaparte's will let you see
what are his intentions, and the blindness in which he is jLmgi d
by his schemes of grandeur. lie is more feeble and more easily
led than people believe; for it is not possible to account in any
other wav for the influence which Lucien exercises ever 1 hu.
He is acquainted with all that Lucien has said and wi.Lten about
him, and yet he suffers himself to be guided by him. To see
19*
222 LIFE OF NAPOLEON".
him at home in his family one would say he was a good man, and
in fact he is so. Fortunately he has a strong sense of justice,
since without that they would make him do much worse things,
lie one day asked me: 'What are my faults?' I replied, 'I
know of two, want of firmness, and indiscretion ; you suffer
yourself to be governed by those who seek only your ruin, and
are so fond of disputing that you divulge your secrets.' lie
folded me in hie arms and owned that it was true. When I point
out to him the dangers of ambition, he answers, 'It is also on thy
account and that of thy family, for if I was to die, thou wouldst
he sacrificed ! : Hut what a pity that a young man who possesses
so many claims to glory and to the homage of his age and of pos-
terity, should be spoiled by flatterers!" — Josephine was inclined,
from her affection for her husband, to throw the blame on others;
but no one is ruined but by his own connivance or from inevita-
ble circumstances.*
On the question of the duration of peace or probable renewal
of hostilities, the following particulars are well worth giving, as
throwing a new and intimate light on the views and dispositions
of the First Consul.
" In England, the peace of Amiens, though popular, was in
* Thibaudcau observes here, that (; the ideas of the unity and stability
of government were so much in vogue, that it they had dared, or if the
First Consul had wished it. they would have heaped all power on his single
he.-al. The intriguers would have exploded every trace of democracy.
They wished to pon -out ate all authority from that of the < 'onsul f r life,
down to the mayor of the must obscure village, and to wean the attention
of the citizens, by degrees, from public atiairs. in order that ia the e d
they might be altogether estranged from them. It was the fashion to cite
the ancient ih>' n.< of province-; as na dels of administration, and the old
parliaments as pattern- for courts of justice. There was m t a single in-ti-
deerird for its intolerable abase-; and proscribed by the voice of the
nation, that .lid not then find apologi.-ts and defenders.' 1 How ridiculous
aiel o'liou-- k11 this — ais. ; I In \ ! t of ant i'piity and the sanction of
; '•■•jadice raid tradition on its side! Our /,'■/>■. ('/••.«•. the declaimers against
toe ex ere;-", but dupes - ■ ■;• r.iry power, thought it best,
instead of letting any such patehi 1 - u ; . system fall in pieces from sheer
antipathy to itself, or when no h : _o r -up] -rod by the hand that rinsed it
■ a ay warrant but his momentary will, to have it io oci ct d in the rock
of age:., at- -I vested as a sacred right in a privileged race !
PEACE OF AMIENS. 22-
he opinion of politicians of all parties little better than a compul-
sory step, and consequently a mere truce, which could not last
long. This conclusion resulted from all the discussions which
took place in parliament, and from the countenance which the
English Ministry afforded to the clandestine intrigues kept up in
London against the Consular Government. Had the First Con-
sul himself entertained a different opinion of the peace of Amiens,
he would not have been deserving of the high place which he
held, nor of his great renown. He had made peace, not from
necessity, but because the French people loudly called for it ;
because it was glorious to France, and because, on the part of
her most inveterate enemy, it was a recognition of the form of
government which she had chosen to adopt. In a conversation
with one of his Counsellors of State, Buonaparte expressed his
opinion as follows :
The First Consul. " Well, Citizen , what think you of
my peace with England V
Counsellor of State. " I think, Citizen Consul, that it does
much honor to your government, and gives great satisfaction to
\he French."
First Consul " Do you think it will last long?"
Counsellor. " I should be very desirous for it to last four or
five years, at least, to give us time to recruit our navv ; but I
doubt much whether it will extend to this period."
First Consul. " I do not believe it neither. England fears
us, the Continental Powers are hostile to us ; how then, if so,
hope for a solid peace ? Moreover, do you imagine that a peace
of five years or more would suit the form or the circumstances
of our Government ?"
Counsellor. " I think that this repose would be very desirable
for France, after ten vears of war."
First Consul. " You do not comprehend me ; I do not make
!■ a question whether a sincere and solid peace is an advantage
:o a well-settled state ; but I ask whether ours is sufficiently so,
not to stand in need of further victories ?"
Counsellor. '• I have not reflected sufficientlv on so important
u question, to give a categorical answer ; all that [ can say, 01
224 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
rather what I feel, is that a state that can only maintain itself by
war is most unfortunately circumstanced."
First Consul. " The greatest misfortune of all would be not
to judge rightly of our position, for when we know what it is we
may provide against it. Answer me, then, whether you do not
apprehend the persevering hostility of these Governments, whieh
have nevertheless signed peace with us ?"
Counsellor. " I should find it a hard matter not to distrust
them/'
First Consul. " Well then, draw the consequence. If these
Governments always have war in petto, if they are determined
to renew it one day, it is best that this should he sooner rather
than later; since every day weakens the impression of their late
defeats on their minds, and tends to diminish in us the confidence
inspired by our late victories ; thus all the advantage of delay is
on their side."'
Counsellor. " But, Citizen Consul, do you reckon as nothing
the opportunity you will derive from the peace for the interna'
organization of the country ?"
First Con.su I. " 1 was coming to that. Assuredly, this impor-
tant consideration did not escape my attention ; and I have given
proofs, even in the midst of war, of my not neglecting what con-
cerned the institutions and the prosperity of the interior. 1 shall
not stop there, there is still much more to do ; hut is not military
success even more necessary to dazzle and keep this interior in
order ? Be well assured that a First Consul has no resemblance
to those kings by the grace of Cod. who regard their dominions
as an inheritance. Their power has old habits to strengthen it ;
with us. on ihe contrary, all these old habits are stumbling-blocks.
The French Government, at the present moment, is like nothing
thai surrounds it. Hated by its neighbors, obliged to keep down
various descriptions of malcontents in its own bosom, it has need,
in order to overawe so many enemies, of brilliant achievements,
and consequently of vs ar.
Counsellor. "] own. Citizen Consul, that you have much
more to do to establish your gov eminent, than the kings our
neighbors have to maintain rneirs; but on the one hand, Furope
is convinced that you know how to conquer, and to recollect this
PEACE OF AMIENS. 22-5
truth, it is not necessary that you should furnish new proofs of it
every year ; on the other hand, the occupations of peace are not
without their lustre too, and you will know how to rivet admira-
tion by noble undertakings."
First Consul. " Former victories, seen at a distance, do not
strike much ; and the labors of art only make a strong impression
on those who witness them, which is the smallest number. My
intention is to multiply and encourage these labors, posterity perhaps
will make more account of them than of my victories; but for the
present, there is nothing that carries such a sound with it as
military successes. This is my conviction ; it is the misfortune
of our situation. A new government, sucn us ours requires, I re-
peat it, to dazzle and astonish in order to maintain itself."
Counsel/or. " Your government, Citizen Consul, is not quite,
as it appears to me, a nurseling. It has put on the manly robe
since Marengo : directed by a powerful head and sustained by the
arms of thirty millions of inhabitants, it holds a distinguished place
among European governments."
First Consul. "Do you conceive then, my good friend that this
is enough ? No, it is necessary that it should be the Jirst of all or
be overpowered.'''
Counsellor. " And to obtain this result, you see no other means
than war 1"
Firs! Consul. " Yes, Citizen , I will maintain peace if
our neighbors are disposed to keep it ; but should they oblige me
to take up arms again before we are enervated by ease and a long
inaction, I shall consider it as an advantage."
Counsellor. " Citizen Consul, what period do you then assign to
this state of anxiety, which in the bosom even of peace should
make us regret war ?"
First Consul. " My friend, I am not sufficiently enlightened as
to the future to reply to your question ; but I ire] that in order
to hope for more solidity and good faith in treaties of peace, it is
requisite either that the form of the surrounding governments
should approximate nearer to ours, or that our political institu-
tions should be a little more in harmonv v/ith theirs. There is al-
ways a spirit of animosity between old monarchies and a new re-
public. This is the root of our European discords."
11*
2*6 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
Counsellor. " But cannot this hostile spirit he repressed by tne
smart of recent recollections, or he arrested in its progress by the
imposing attitude which you might assume ]"'
First Consul. •■Palliatives are not cures: in our circumstances,
I consider every peace as a short-lived truce, and the ten vears
of mv Consul-hip as doomed to war almost without intermission.
Mv successors will do as they can. [This was previous to his
being chosen Consul for life.] As to the rest, be on your guard
against believing that I wish to break off the peace : no. I shall
not act the part of the aggressor. I have too strong an interest
in leaving it to foreign powers to strike the first blow. I know
them well : they will be the first to take up arms, or to furnish
me with just grounds to do so. I shall hold myself in readiness
fur all events."
Counsellor. " Thus then, Citizen Consul, it appears that what I
feared a few months ago is precisely what you wish."
First Consul. •• 1 wait to see ; and my principle is that war is
to be preferred to an ephemeral peace: we shall see how this will
turn out. At present it is of the utmost importance to us. It af-
fixes its seal to the acknowledgment of mv government by that
p iwer which has held out the longest against it. This is the
chief point gained. The rest, that is the future, must depend on
circumstances. :
According to this account, as it relates to the grounds of
Buonaparte's fon ign policy, the supposed hatred of kings to the
principles of popular government has cost France and Europe
dear. Whether that policy was sound and justifiable or not. de-
pends on this other question whether that hatred was real or sup-
posed : and this question d »es not, I think, admit of a doubt. To
contend with any chance uf sueei - ■ against the arnn d pn
pride, and power of Europe, something more than men
. ... iti n. ami n h .. '.' in external professions was ne.
. . ■■.■. .' ver miirht he the danger or the inconveniences on
,;:<• o;ipo-ite side, instead of fastidious scruph s or (Quaker moralitv,
i; required the very genius of heroic daring and loftv ambition
'•• lad all in proof." or a champion like Talus, the Iron Man in
h' '"-';>' -r. to make hi .-• it. Evorv one will oil iw that
Buonaparte ;ame uu to tie \ .-: j am not vcrv anxious
PEACE OF AMIENS. 22/
to deny that he perhaps exceeded them. — What I like least in the
foregoing conversation is the hint thrown out of an approximation
to the form of the old governments. " Farthest from them was
best." It was too much to conquer and to imitate them too. But
the one left an opening to the First Consul's schemes of personal
aggrandizement as the other did of martial glory. The splendor
with which he proposed to dazzle the enemies of the Republic,
seemed already to contract his brows into a frown. Even this,
though an unlooked-for and the least favorable issue to the ques-
tion, was not without its moral use. A people were denied the
right to be free and a mark set upon them as unworthy of the
rank of men, and one man stepped forth from amongst them who
wiped out the stain with his sword, and set his foot upon the
necks of kings, and humbled their pride and pretensions with the
dust by placing himself on an equality with them : a whole people
were taunted with their incapacity to maintain the relations of peace
and amity for want of a head, and they chose one man among
them to lead them forth to universal conquest. This was at least
one way of asserting the cause of the people, and of answering
the claim of natural and indefeasible superiority over them. If
not the triumph of the best principles, neither was it the complete
and final triumph of the worst. In a battle, all those on the same
side claim the honor of the victory, though the general has the
greatest share; so free-men can hardly complain if to triumph
over their unrelenting task-masters they have to surrender the
chief power into the hands of the ablest among them. As to
France, it is at all events better to be stopped by a robber than
sold for a slave; and as to the Continent, the war was never a
national quarrel, but a struggle between the different classes and
races of men, whether one should be considered as an inferior
order of beings to the other. If it were a question between the
black's and whites, the color would at once decide the point ; to
the mind's eye the complexion of the dispute, the real gist of the
argument is no less clear between the natural rights and the
hereditary and lasting bondage of the people. Passion and power
never lost sight of tins distinction : reason was more easily stag-
gered and thrown off its guard. There are some who think the
slightest flaw, a single error fatal to their own side of the question
22S LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
as opposed to the pretended right to inflict every wrong with im.
punity: in my opinion this claim alone cancels a million of faults
committed against it. Anything short of the re-admission of such
a principle is virtually "deliverance to mankind." If however a
nobler and wiser (because more consistent and disinterested)"
course lay open to Buonaparte, he did not want a Mentor in one
who had every title to be so, both from his own obligations to him
and from Ins well-known attachment to the cause of liberty. At
the time of his being chosen Consul for life, Fayette addressed
the following letter to him.
;, La Grange. 1st of Prairial. year X (1S02).
" General,
." When a man, penetrated with the gratitude that he owes you,
and too sensible of glory not to sympathize with yours, has added
restrictions to his suffrage, they are the less to be suspected, as
no one will rejoice more than he to see you first magistrate for
life of a free Republic. The 1-th of Brumaire has saved France,
and 1 found myself recalled by the liberal professions to which
you had pl< dged your honor. We have seen since in the con-
sular [tower that repairing system which under the auspices of
your genius has done such great things ; less grand however than
the restoration of liberty will be. It is impossible that you, Gen-
eral, the first of that order of beings, who to appreciate themselves
and to take their proper rank must embrace all aires, should wish
that such a revolution, that so many victories with so much I
so manv misf rtum s and prodigies should have for the world and
for V'Hiis"]f no other result than an arbitrary government. The
Fivnch nation has to i well known its rights to have f :■_■ " n
them entirely; but perhaps it is more in a state at present, than
in its first effervesceni e, I ■ c ver 1 A' ; and \
the force of your character and the public e mlidence. bv the su-
ritv of vour talt'iits. of y . . ' \ ur fortune, ma v,
in re-e>tahlishin"; liberty. ina.-t''i' all dami'Ts and allay all inqui-
I } iers nal in
fir wishing you in this view- • - . .- : .:;,u a perma-
nent ma^i>tracv as an addition to } iur glory. But I owe it to
the principles, the engagements, arid to the actions of my whole
PEACE OF AMIENS. 229
»ife, to be assured, before I give it my vote, that it is founded on
bases worthy of the nation and of yourself.
" I trust you will be satisfied, General, on this as on former
occasions, that to an adherence to my political opinions are joined
sincere good wishes for your welfare, and a profound sense of mj
obligations to you.
" Health and respect.
" La Fayette."
Every day the irritation and dissatisfaction of the two govern-
ments that had just concluded peace became greater, the one try.
ing to maintain its temper and a friendly appearance, the other to
provoke an open rupture by every species of secret calumny or
vulgar taunt. The English journals were filled with gross md
studied insults to the person of the First Consul, and he com-
plained that " it was in vain for him to reckon upon peace, while
every gale that blew breathed hatred and contempt from Eng-
land."' in spite of all this, people still trusted to the continuance
of peace, and the English flocked over in crowds to Paris. They
had been debarred of this privilege for nearly ten years, and they
were devoured with eager curiosity to see the effects of the Revo-
lution as well as the extraordinary man whom victory had placed
at the head of affairs. They expected to find the country ex-
hausted, agriculture annihilated, and the people miserable. They
were astonished and not a little scandalized at the national pros-
perity, the splendor of the capital, and the magnificence of the
court. Paris was into\e. uvea wan ttie presence of so many
strangers. Every attention was paid them, every preference
was given them. French vanity and politeness seemed to do-
light in soothing and flattering English pride and jealousy
The only question was, who should give them the most wel-
come reception : all Paris was on tiptoe to make a few thousand
English eat, drink, dance, and look pleased. The women wcni
prodigal of their fascinations ; and the hospitality and courtesy
which were carried to a ridiculous excess, were repaid wi 4 h char
acteristic sullenncss and scorn — the English thinking there must
he a design in so much ostentatious complaisance, and carrying
back their personal obligations as an uneasy make-weight to throw
20
230 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
into the scale of a new war! The summer of that year was,
however, bright and serene ; most of our countrymen who could
afford it passed it under cloudless sides, and the hope of peace
was a satisfaction to all. The thoughtless and the well-disposed
believed firmly in its continuance because they wished it, as well
as for the following reasons. 1. War is an unnatural state
and cannot last forever, so that the imagination always looks
forward to and can only repose in the enjoyment of peace.
"J. If war were a benefit and not a curse (as has been pretended
before now) we should go to war with our friends, and not with
our enemies. Therefore men's wishes point at peace if their
passions do not disturb it. 3. The French had gained the object
which was at stake — the acknowledgment of the Republic ; and
numbers of the English were more ashamed of the cause in which
we had been engaged than mortified at its want of success. The
real grounds of the war were not the pretended ones, and could
not be suspected except by those who were in the secret. And
Jastlv, it was believed that Buonaparte, who was the soul of the
war. and who had put an end to it by the fame of his exploits, was
both solicitous and qualified to reap an equal glory by the arts of
peace.
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 23j
CHAPTER XXXI.
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS.
Of my object in writing the Life here offered to the public,
and of the general tone that pervades it, it may be proper that I
should render some account (before proceeding farther) in order
to- prevent mistakes and false applications. It is true, I admired
the man ; but what chiefly attached me to him, was his being, as
he had been long ago designated, " the child and champion of the
Revolution." Of this character he could not divest himself, even
though he wished it. He was nothing, he could be nothing but
what he owed to himself and to his triumphs over those who
claimed mankind as their inheritance by a divine right ; and as
long as he was a thorn in the side of kings and kept them at bay,
his cause rose out of the ruins and defeat of their pride and hopes
of revenge. He stood (and he alone stood) between them and
their natural prey. He kept off that last indignity and wrong
offered to a whole people (and through them to the rest of the
world) of beins handed over like a herd of cattle, to a particular
family, and chained to the foot of a legitimate throne. This was
the chief point at issue — this was the great question, compared
with which all others were tame and insignificant — Whether
mankind were, from the beginning to the end of time, born slaves
or not ? As long as he remained, his acts, his very existence
gave a proud and full answer to this question. As long as he in-
terposed a barrier, a gauntlet, and an arm of steel between us and
them who alone could set up the plea of old, indefeasible rinht
over us, no increase of power could be too great that tended to
shatter this claim to pieces : even his abuse of power and aping
the style and title of the imaginary (>'><]> of the earth only laughed
their pretensions the more to scorn. He did main' things wrong
and foolish ; but they were individual acts, and recoiled upon the
232 LIFE OF NAPOLEOX.
head of ihe doer. They stood upon the ground of their own
merits, and could not urge in their vindication Ci the right divine
of kings to govern wrong ;"' they were not precedents ; they
were not exempt from public censure or opinion : they were not
softened by prescription, nor screened by prejudice, nor sanctioned
bv superstition, nor rendered formidable by a principle that im-
posed them as sacred obligations on all future generations: either
they were state-necessities extorted by the circumstances of the
time, or violent acts of the will, that carried their own condemna-
tion in their bosom. Whatever fault might be found with them,
they did not proceed upon the avowed principle, that " millions
were made for one," but one for millions: and as long as this
distinction was kept in view, liberty was saved, and the [{.evolu-
tion was untouched ; for it was to establish it that the Revolution
was commenced, and to overturn it that the enemies of liberty
waded through seas of blood, and at last succeeded. It is the
practice of the partisans of the old school to cry Vive le Hoi,
quand meme ! Why do not the people learn to imitate the ex.
ample ? Till they do, they will be sure to be foiled in the end
by their adversaries, since half-measures and principles can never
prevail against whole ones. In fact. Buonaparte was not strictly
a free agent, lie could hardly do otherwise than he did. ambi-
tion apart, and merely to preserve himself and the country ho
ruled. France was in a state of siege ; a citadel in which Free-
dom had hoisted the (lag of revolt against the threat of hereditary
servitude; and that in the midst of distracti n and convulsions
consequent on the sentence of ban and anathema passed upon it
bv the vc<\ >>{' Kuropc f>r having engaged in this noble struggle,
required a military dictator to repress internal treachery and
headstrong factions, and repel external force. Who then shall
blame Fmonaparto fir having taken the n ins of Government and
Hiii v. it i it tight hand ! The Kngli ■ ::. v, h i having set the
. xample of lib -rty to the World, di 1 all they c mid to stiflo it !
( )r the C tiu"tital Sovereigns, who were only acquainted with
iiiciph's bv their fear and hatred of them ? Or the Immi-
grant:-, traitors to the name of men as well as Frenchmen ' * *r
tin' Jacobins, who made the tree of liberty spout nothing but
blood ? Or its paper advocates, who reduce it to a harmles'
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 233
.heory ? Or its true friends, who would sacrifice all for its sake ?
The last, who alone have the right to call him to a severe account,
will not ; for they know that, being but a handful or scattered,
they had not the power to effect themselves what they might have
recommended to him ; and that there was but one alternative be-
iween him and that slavery, which kills both the bodies and the
souls of men ! There were two other feelings that influenced me
on this subject ; a love of glory, when it did not interfere with
other things, and the wish to see personal merit prevail over ex-
ternal rank and circumstance. I felt pride (not envy) to think
that there was one reputation in modern times equal to the an-
cients, and at seeing one man greater than the throne he sat
upon. —
The former war with France was put an end to, in the first
place, because it was unsuccessful ; and secondly, because it was
unpopular with a considerable party in the nation, who were
favorable to the French Revolution. Before embarking finally
in a struggle which was felt to be of vital importance, and which
was meant to terminate only in the destruction of one or other of
the contending powers, it was thought advisable to interpose a
hollow peevish truce, which could be broken off at pleasure ; and
which would give those who had hitherto disapproved the attempt
to overturn the French Republic as an unprincipled aggression
on the rights and liberties of mankind, but who were grown luke-
warm in the cause, or were tired out with opposition, a plausible
pretext to change sides, and to come over, with, loud clamor and
tardy repentance, to the views of their King and Country. " It
Mas a consummation devoutly to be wished''" — None can tell how
devoutly but those who have known what it is to suffer the priva-
tion of public sympathy, the constancy of the irritation, the fruit-
lessness of perseverance, the bar it is to business or pleasure, the
handle it affords to enemies, the coldness it throws on friendship •
so that the first opening was eagerly caught at towards a recon-
ciliation between the Opposition and the Government, the ardoi
of which (on one side at least) was in proportion to their long es-
trangement. The Minority had thus redeemed their literal pledge
of consistency in the original Revolutionary quarrel, and migh'
now join heart and hand in the new crusade against the encrcacn-
20*
234 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ments and ambition of Franco. As long as the first war contin-
ued, they could not well do so without seeming to acknowledge
themselves in the wrong ; but by making peace, the government
ostensibly took this responsibility upon itself; and with a new
war. gave them the option of new opinions, so that they must in
courtesy return the compliment by taking part against themselves.
The peace of Amiens therefore just left a short interval or breath-
ing-space enough fortius compromise of principle, and marshall-
ing of public opinion against the common enemv. upon distinct
grounds indeed, but with the old grudge at bottom. The formal
suspension of hostilities, however, and the commencing again on
fresh and incidental causes of provocation gave immense ad.
ditional power to the government, and an impetus that carried it
forward to the proposed end either of destruction or conquest : for
it flung the whole practical weight of public opinion in England
into the war-scab', without any drawback or diversion from con-
tending parties or feelings. The feeble opposition that was left
chiefly served to win t and sharpen, instead of blunting the edge
of deadly animositv : and many of the new converts who had
hurled up the n d-cap of liberty with most vi donee in the air,
and whose suffrages it was an object to gain, were now foremost
in raising the war-whoop and in cheering the combatants.
The British Government and Public at this period might be
divided into three parties. The first and really preponderating
party consisted of those who thought that no peace ought to be
concluded with a regicide Republic; and that it was nothing
sh rt of national degradation and signing a bond of voluntary in-
famv to enter into truce or treaty with the traitors and miscreants
wh i bad usurped the reins of G ivernmont in France, as much as
with a den of robbers and murderers whom the laws of God and
man made it equallv a duty to pursue * i x\< n dilation or uncon-
diti mal surrender. This was the lu'irh Tory party, the school of
I i-'iurke and Wvndham. and more particularly including the Kind's
t'vM;d-. But this party lj»-iiT_r too weak both in numbers and in
-'■:/■(•(-< t') i-arrv their point openly and with a hiirh hand, they
..■:•<• obliged to yield to another more moderate or more politic
one. who undertook to manaL r »' the s in e thing f r th> m by under-
hand means, that is. by professing a willingness and a desire to
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. i 6
make peace, and throwing the blame of the renewal of hostilities
on the enemy. Tins party was the cat's-paw of the first ; and
tin- true agents and promoters of the secret aims of power, con-
sisting of such men as Pitt, Addington, &c. the more knowing
diplomatists, the gi'eater part of the public press, and the decent
and 1 ss violent Church-and-King men. The third were the
dupes of the two first, being composed of the great mass of the
p 'ople, and the friends of peace and liberty, who believed that
D ac ' had been concluded in the spirit of peace, and that if his
Majesty's .Ministers were compelled to break it oil', it was tor the
causes which they themselves chose to assign as just and 'awful
one-. Tii'' earliest of these which wrve brought forward io give
the alarm, were stories of armaments in the ports of Prance;
secondly, Sebastiana seen creeping like a rat along the coasts of
tii" Adriatic, which portended the speedy loss of Egypt ; thirdly,
the stipulated retention of Malta in the hands of the Knights of
St. John, which the French would convert into a stepping-stone
to our possessions in India ; and last! v. the meditated conquest of
the world by the French Consul. All these pretexts are at pres-
ent given up as vague and frivolous by the most staunch and able
advocates of the late war, who lament that no mention wa.s made
by our statesmen of the day of the occupation of Switzerland and
tlie' Confederation of Lombard v as the true grounds of the refusal
to execute the treatv of Amiens. Neither was any mention made
ot another equally convincing and cogent argument against
p ace, that the throne of France was not as vet occupied by the
Bourbons. But our Ministers being determined, in pursuance of
this last object, to risk the existence and welfare of the country
on the issue of an unprincipled and hypocritical war. could bring
fu'ward no excuses tor incurring this responsibility and balancing
this evil, but such as implied (however absurdly and falsely),
that the same risk was to be apprehended every moment from
the insatiable and restless ambition of Buonaparte.
in order to prepare the wav for this desirable turn to the ne-
g ooiati ais (for so it was considered bv the furiously loyal and
patriotic) no pains had been spared. During the short interval
of peace, every mode of irritation, recrimination, and inv-c't-e
had been industriously resorted to and tacitlv encouraged. When
236 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
the most revolting charges were complained of, it was answered
that they could not be suppressed without tampering with the
liberty of the press, though it was well known that the slightest
breath from authority would have stilled them ; and a celebrated
advocate on the trial of Peltier is supposed to have been sent over
by Government not long before (but on a sleeveless errand) to
iiiid new fuel for the flame and to extract new poison for the to >th
of calumny to feed upon. Buonaparte in his public and private
character was uniformly held up as a monster of ambition, cruelty,
arid lust. Every body knows that it is only necessary to raise
a bugbear before the English imagination in order to govern it
at will. Whatever they hate or fear, they implicitly believe in,
merely from the scope it gives to these passions; and what they
once believe in, they proceed to art upon, and rush blindly on their
own destruction or that of others, without pausing to inquire into
causes or consequences. Their own fury supplies them with
resolution: the judgment of their betters directs the application
to their cost. Gloomy, sullen, suspicious, brooding always on
the worst side of things, indignant at every appearance of in-
tstice, except when it is committed bv themselves, and then
scornfully resenting the imputation or turning round and boldly
justifying it ; quarrelling with and maligning one another till
their attention is roused by a common foe, their union being in-
cri ased and cemented through the jarring elements of which it is
composed j never satisfied but when they have some object of
jealousy or dislike to wreak their vengeance upon, they are the
. ipr-s i : \vh ii ver can take advantau : I r u;;L r ■ \ ' * - r n -
abb', headstrong humors; mistake the strength of their passions
and prejudices for the soundness of their reason and the fjood-
iif-ss of their cause ; run from artificial terrors into real dangers ;
have a sort of unconscious obtusono-s and honlwmmic even in
their most flagrant acts of self-will, which thev conceive all the
. must admire ; show the same blindfold rage in the pur-
suit : ' ■'.■_ lit or \\ r r its neutrality could be fbund : hot
when this guarantee u;i< p -inted out bv providing a garrison of
ins and Itus-iaiH. instead of Xe;ip limns, that also was
refused of course. Any terms of peace Were acceptable, but
' cable ! \» * [he f irs of Malta b>-iiig heivaftei
k."i/.' d upon bv the Fi'.-neh as the key t > Firvpt and our Eastern
a ss' ss :;-, 1 o ■ . I : that :...;. - . -h apj re hi nsi ms were
M-riou.-ly entertained, or weighed so much as a feather in the
Balance ; but even if the-*, re was a jealousy on the
;;art of our merchants or statesmen that the French might possibly
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 239
at some distant period wrest their acquisition to this purpose, yet
no such plea is admissible in sound policy on this plain and broad
principle, that there is no providing by any artifice or precautions
against all possible contingencies, and that if oui selfish and
grasping passions were as long-sighted and speculative as they
are gross and narrow-minded, there could not be a moment's
peace or security for the world, and we must be always at war,
to prevent the possibility of any advantage being taken of us in
time to come. We seize on and plunder distant continents, and
then keep the world in amazement and dread with our disinter-
ested denunciations against the ambitious and unprincipled pro-
jects of others, that they may at some time or other rob us of our
ill-gotten and uncertain booty. The First Consul, uneasy at the
delays of the British Ministry, and at the increasing tone of ex-
asperation on both side?, so early as the 11th of February, 1S03,
had an interview with Lord Whitworth (our ambassador.) in
which for the space of nearly two hours he set forth the various
causes of his dissatisfaction with the English Government in firm
and animated language, rising in fervor as he proceeded, but
without failing in the usual tone of courtesy due to an ambas-
sador.
He first complained of the delay of the British in evacuating
Alexandria and Malta ; cutting short all discussion on the latter
subject by declaring he would as soon agree to Great Britain's
possessing the suburb of St. Antoine, as that island. lie then
referred to the abuse poured upon him by the English papers, but
more especially by the French journals published in London. He
affirmed that Georges and other Chouan chiefs, whom he accused
of designs against his life, received relief and shelter in England;
and that two assassins had been apprehended in Normandy sent
over by the French emigrants to murder him. This, he said,
would be publicly proved in a court of justice, as was afterwards
done at the trial of Pichegru and others. From this point he di-
gressed to Egypt, of which he affirmed he could make himself
master whenever lie chose ; but that he considered it trio paltry a
st. ike to renew the war for. At the same time he contended that
Egypt must sooner or later belong to France, either by the falling
to pieces of the Turkish Empire, or in consequence of some agree-
240 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
merit with the Porte. In evidence of his peaceable intentions,
he asked, what he should gain by going to war, since he had no
means of acting offensively against England, except by a descent,
of which he acknowledged the hazard in the strongest terms.
The chances, he said with his usual pointed frankness, were a
hundred to one against him ; and yet he declared that the attempt
should be made if he were now obliged to go to war. He extolled
the power of both countries. The army of France, he said,
should bo soon recruited to four hundred and eighty thousand
men ; and the fleets of England were such as he could not pro-
pose to match within the space of ten years at least. United,
the two countries might govern the world, would they but under-
stand each other. Had he found the least cordiality on the part
of England, she should have had indemnities assigned her upon
the Continent, treaties of commerce, all that she could ask or
desire. But he confessed that his irritation increased daily,
"since every gale that blew from England brought nothing but
enmity and hatred against him." In the final result, he demanded
the instant fulfilment of the treaty of Amiens, and the suppression
of the abuse in the English newspapers. "W ar was the alterna-
tive. To an allusion by Lord Whitworth to the changes in Pied-
mont and Switzerland as obstacles to peace, Buonaparte replied
that those were trifles which must have been foreseen while the
treaty was pending, and it was a mere pretext to recur to them
now. Besides, the delivering up of Malta to the English would
not remedy them. They parted with mutual civilitv ; and Lord
Whitworth expressed himself pcrfectlv satisfied with his audience,
but soon after sent over a long account of it to the Ministers,
tending to inflame the quarrel and to remove the hope of an ad-
justment of differences to a greater distance. In a word, it was
obvious that the First Consul was benl upon peace; and the more
anxious he was fur it, the more' the English Cabinet grew alarmed
and di termined to break it oil". Thev hated the man ; and it was
otilv in a war that thev could hope ; > destroy him and the Re-
public. The duplicity and misrepresentation of which Buona-
parte was the object on this occasion, made him determine in
fumre to recur to the common forms of diplomacy and communi-
cate his sentiments through his Ministers, to whom he could hi
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS 241
hat case appeal as evidence in his justification. The former
method was, however more suited to the genius of the man and to
his situation as the head of a free state, who having no sentiments
or interests but those of the community to express, expressed
them openly, manfully, and with the degree of energy and warmth
they infused into his breast ; and that by a republican boldness and
simplicity presented a marked contrast to those state-puppets, who
being actuated only by their pride and passions while they profess
to aim at the public good, should always explain themselves by
proxy, that there may be no clue to their real feelings and inten-
tions, and as little connection between their lips and the sentiments
of their hearts, as there is between their interests and those of the
people.
On the 8th of March, a speech from the Throne recommended
to the British Parliament the seconding the Government in com-
pleting all the measures of defence which circumstances might
appear to render necessary for the honor of the Crown and the
essential interests of the People. These precautions were to be
grounded on considerable preparations said to be making in the
ports of France and Holland, and on differences of a high impor-
tance which existed between his Majesty and the French Gov-
ernment. Buonaparte had been just reading this notable mes-
sage in a dispatch which he had received from London, when he
had to enter the drawing-room at the Thuilleries where the For-
eign Ambassadors were collected, and stopping short before the
English Ambassador, he put the following hurried questions to
him in a tone of surprise and impatience : — " What does your
Cabinet mean ? What is the motive for raising these rumors of
armaments in our harbors? How is it possible to impose in this
manner on the credulity of the nation, or to be so ignorant of our
real intentions? If the actual state of things be known, it must be
evident to all that there are only two armaments lilting out for St.
Domingo ; that this island engrosses all our disposable means. \Y by
then these complaints ? Can peace be already considered as a bur-
V>
00(1
den to be shaken off? Is Europe to be again deluged with hi
He then addressed Count Marcoff and the Chevalier A/.ara — " The
English wish for war ; but if they draw the sword first, 1 will be
the last to return it to the scabbard. They do not respect treaties,
VOL. II. 12 21
2*2 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
which henceforth we must cover with black crape." He then agu«i
turned to Lord Whitworth : " To what purpose is this pretended
alarm ? Against whom do you take these measures of precaution ?
I have not a single ship of the line in any port in France. But if
you arm, I will arm too ; if you fight, I will fight. You may de-
stroy France, but you cannot intimidate her.'"' Lord Whitworth
bowed and made no reply. The First Consul left that part oft e
saloon, and, without going the usual round, retired soon after.
The rest of the company followed, except the English and Russian
Ambassadors, who withdrew tc the recess of a window, and were
seen conversing together long after. Such is the amount of a
scene in which Buonaparte's temper and language were repre-
sented to have risen to such a height, that Lord Whitworth every
moment expected he would strike him. and was prepared to have
run his sword through his body if lie had ! And the English na-
tion gloried tor many a year in the notion of the rage into which
Buonaparte was thrown by our not making peace with him, and
of the signal revenge which our Ambassador would have taken
on the spot, had he not contained himself within certain limits !
To fables and caricatures of this kind did the Tory party think
it necessarv to resort to rouse the passions and prejudices of the
multitude to a pitch of madness. The principles of the Revo-
lution in themselves wearing a seductive and popular aspect, the
onlv chance its opponents had was to divert attention from them,
bv vilifying the persons of tho.se who defended them, and holding
them up alternately a- bjects of terror and ridicule. Thev did
every thing to provoke Buonaparte beyond the bounds of patience,
and then made a merit of having succeeded, representing it as a
new ground of war : as if he who had n ccivi d, n it those who
had oil* red the insults and provoeafi ins. was the airirressor. and
he was a man of that violence and irritability of temper, that no
peace could be kept with him. livfi'v thing being thus referred
t i p rsonal prejudice and rancor, the fairest oilers were treated as
in.-idious, the plainest proofs were answered bv a volley of abuse,
or bv a sneer of contempt. Buonaparte, bv his flaws and starts
of temper, showed that he was M of the pi opde, and resp m-
Siible to them fur the issue of affairs. lie was naturally mortified
at the vain professions of peace by which he had been amused,
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 243
and disgusted at the barefaced imposture by whicn they were
broken oil*. He was not one of that favored race of mortals who
can do no wrong ; who are invulnerable to opinion, accountable
to none but themselves, and who preserve the same equanim-
ity because they receive the same obedience and outward homage
whether they ruin or save — alike indifferent to the execration or
the gratitude of their country. Persecution drives men beside
themselves ; the withholding of the best-founded claims makes
them set up unreasonable ones. We cannot be surprised, if Buo-
naparte, to shield himself in some degree from the annoyance of
vulgar ribaldry and the supercilious airs of power, seriously be-
thought himself of borrowing an armor of proof, which the Pope
helped to buckle on for him, and of binding the laurel-wreath of
victory (as it was not to be that of peace also) with the golden
circlet of an imperial crown.
The First Consul did nut, however, all at once throw away
the hope of an accommodation, as the following speech in the
Council of State just after will testify: — "It is asked if the
present political juncture will not be unfavorable to the establish
ment of a national bank. The Romans, when besieged, sent an
army into Africa. If we should have war, which is not to be
presumed, it would diminish the imposts by thirty millions. We
should live in Europe, in Hanover. Italy would furnish us with
fortv millions, instead of twenty ; Holland with thirty millions,
instead of nothing, which it actually contributes. I told the En-
glish Ambassador, 'You may indeed kill Frenchmen, but not in-
timidate them. 5 I am unable to conceive the motives of the
King's message. There arc two points : first, the armaments ;
this reduces itself to the expedition to Louisiana, two thousand
men detained by the frost, and three avisos at Dunkirk, which set
sail for St. Domingo the very day of the message. The English
Ministers cannot pretend ignorance of that ; it is sufficiently pub-
lic. Otherwise, if they had demanded explanations, they might
have been made easy on that head. Secondly, there are the dis-
cussions on the treats. But 1 am not aware of any such; there
are none. Do they mean to allude to Malta, or to keep it? Uuf
treaties must be executed, and France cannot recede on that point
without r. ceding on all the rest. It would be contrary to honor.
244 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
A nation ought never to do any tiling contrary to its honor; for
in this case it would be the lowest of all ; it were better to per-
ish. If we gave up this point, they would next demand to have
a commissary at Dunkirk. These" times are past ; we are no
longer what we were. We will not become the vassals of Eng-
land. They well-nigh threatened me with war eight or nine
Months ago, if I did not conclude a treaty of commerce. 1 re-
filled : ' All in good time ; 1 will not have a treaty of commerce ;
1 wish to establish a tariff., which will suit us best.' Neverthe-
less, it was in this manner that they forced a treaty upon M. de
Vergennes ; though he knew well enough that it was injurious.
If they mean to speak of Malta and intend to keep it, war is in-
evitable, though Malta belongs to the sea, and it was to receive a
garrison of Neapolitans, who are well known not to be very fa-
vorable to us: but then our honor! The English are it) the
habit of disturbing the Continent, and from the little resistance
thev in general meet with, are exceedingly sensible to it ; so
much the worse fir them ! Would it not seem tiiat we have it in
view to invade England? We ask nothing from her; all that
we require is the execution of treaties. If the message has a
reference to the exterior, it can only be to Malta. If it has to do
with domestic affairs, its object may be to put on board their ves-
sels five or six thousand individuals, who give them cause of un-
easiness, in consequence of what has taken place at the funeral
of Colonel Despard, or for some other end of which I am igno-
rant, and am at a loss to divine. For in general, when the En-
glish are resolved on war, thev begin by issuing secret orders,
five or six months beforehand, to capture all merchant-vessels;
and lliev give notice to the Exchange. On the contrarv, this
message has fallen as if from the clouds ; they knew nothing of
it the evening before. The King was following the chase ; the
Exchange was not apprised of it. S i that it has had an effect
which was never before known in England; the funds have
fallen from 12 to 62. It is, then, an inexplicable caprice, and all
for nothing. For what says the message ] It calls for neither
men nor money : it only says that it hopes the Commons will
show themselves if we inviulc ■Kii«lun(L and the Commons reply,
that thev will. Behold a niiuhtv discoverv ! Besides, all this
RUPTURE OF THE PEAfiE OF AMIENS. 245
does more harm to England than to us, for she exists only by her
credit. All her merchantmen have orders not to stir. War
would oblige her to incur e.xpences, and make her sustain losses
forty times greater than those which we should have to suffer
It would be without object."
The whole proceeding, of which Buonaparte makes a political
mystery, is an obvious moral truism. The English Cabinet had
determined all along never to conclude peace, and it could no
longer put it off without an abrupt declaration of war. The ex-
cesses of the French Revolution had shocked and terrified the
upper classes ; the glory and the growing prosperity of the Re-
public under its new leader, galled their pride still more. No
sacrifices, no risks, no breach of faith was too great to avoid set-
ting the seal to a system which affronted and gave the lie to all
their boasted pretensions and maxims. But in order to prevent
the scandal of a sudden rupture (the true reasons of which would
not bear disclosure.) it was brought forward as if quite unawares,
and from a momentary panic at imaginary armaments in the
ports of France. The fears and anger of the country being thus
exeited by an object which had no existence, might then be easily
directed to any object the Government pleased. It would be a
pitv that such a stock of patriotism and loyalty should be collect-
ed by the most approved conduit (the King's speech,) and in the
grand reservoir of public opinion (the breast of the Commons of
Great Britain) in vain. Our passions would not be the less in-
flamed by finding that we had been duped into them. The blow
once struck, we should not stop to inquire into the grounds of the
quarrel, but be readv to commit ourselves to destruction in order
to avoid it. Such is the web of which loyalty and patriotism are
vulgarly composed ; and in this manner was the war of 1803
got up by a paltrv stratagem, and bv disseminating a false alarm
of an invasion which only war could bring about.
The reports of war soon gained ground, and the First Consul
spoke out more plainly on the subject. Of the tone and spirit in
which he met these first hostile demonstrations on the part of
Great Britain, the following observations delivered at an audience
(the 11th Floreal,) convey a remarkable specimen : — " Since the
English (he said, after the Foreign Ambassadors were gone) wish
246 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to force us to leap the ditch, we will leap it. They may take
some of our frigates or our colonies ; but 1 will carry terror into
the streets of London, and I give them warning, that they will
bewail the end of this war with tears of blood. The Ministers
have made the King of England tell a lie in the face of Europe.
There were no armaments going on in France; there has been
no negociation. They have not transmitted to me a single note :
Lord VVbitworth could not help acknowledging it. And yet it is
by the aid of such vile insinuations, that a Government seeks to
excite the passions. Fur the last two months I have endured all
sorts of insults from the English Government. I have let them
fill up the measure of their offences ; they have construed that
into feebleness, and have redoubled their presumption to the point
of making their Ambassador say: Do so and so, or I shall de-
part in St-vcn days. Is it thus that they address a great nation ?
He was told to write, and that his notes would be laid before the
eyes of Government. No, was the reply, J hare orders to com-
municate, only verbally. Is not this an unheard of form of ne-
gotiating ? Does it not show a marked determination to shuffle,
equivocate, play at fast and loose as they please, and leave no
proof against themselves ? But if they falsify facts, what faith
can be placed in their sincerity in other respects? They are de-
ceived if they think fo dictate laws to forty millions of people.
They have been led to believe that I dreaded war, lest it should
shake my authority. I will raise two millions of men, if it be
necessary. The result of the first war has been to aggrandize
France by the addition of Belgium and Piedmont. The result
of this will be to consolidate our federative system still more
firmly. The bond of union between two great nations can be no
other than justice and the observation of treaties. The one to-
wards which they are violated, cannot, oujjht not to suffer it tin-
tier pain of degradation. Let her but once give way. and she is
lost. It would be better for the French people to bend to the
yoke, and erect the throne of the King of England in Paris,
than to submit to the caprices and arbitrary pretensions of her
Government. One day they will demand the salute from our
vessels; another they will forbid our navigators to pass beyond
such a latitude. Already even they observe with jealousy that
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 24?
we were clearing out our harbors, and re-establishing our mu-
rine. They complain of it ; they demand guarantees. A short
while ago the Vice-Admiral Lesseigues touched at Malta ; he
had two ships with him ; he found fifteen English ones there.
They wanted him to fire a salute ; Lesseigues refused : some
words passed. If he had yielded, I would have had him carried
in procession on an ass; which is a mode of punishment more
ignominious than the guillotine. I flatter myself that when our
conduct shall be made known, there is not a corner of Europe m
which it will not meet with approbation. When England con-
sented to a peace, she thought that we should tear one another to
pieces in the interior, that the Generals would give France
trouble. The English have done all they could ; but their in-
trigues of every kind have been in vain. Every one has occu-
pied himself only in repairing his losses. A little sooner, a little
later, we must have had war. It is best to have it at once, be-
fore our maritime commerce is restored."
There were some Members of the Senate present on this occa-
sion; amongst others, Laplace and Bougainville, who talked of
the facility of a descent upon England. All is easy to French
imagination : it costs only words. After some vain altercations
and atl'ected concessions, which came to nothing, and were meant
to come to nothing. Lord Whitworth took his departure. On
occasion of this circumstance being communicated to the Legisla-
tive Body, the orator Fontaine made a speech, not like Buona-
parte, laying down facts one by one, like the pieces of a mosaic-
pavement, clear at once and solid, but running into extravagant
assumptions and false sentiment. " If the' English."' he said,
'• should dare to combat us. be it so! France is readv to cover
herself once more with those arms which have conquered Europe.
It is not France that will declare war ; but she will accept the
nge without fear, and will know how to maintain it with
energy. Our country is become anew the centre of civilized
Europe. England can no longer say that she is defending the
indispensable principles of society, menaced to its foundations: it
is we who may hold this language, if war is rekindled : it is we
who shall then have to avenge the rights of nations and the cause
of humanity, in repelling the unjust attack of a Government thai
24S LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
negociates to deceive, that asks for peace to prepare for war, and
that sinus treaties only to break them. It' the signal is once
given, France will rally by an unanimous movement round the
hero she admires. All the parties whom he keeps in order near
him will only dispute who shall manifest most zeal and courage.
All fee! the want of his genius, and acknowledge that he alone can
sustain the weight and grandeur of our new destinies. The
exiles newly recalled to their country will be foremost to defend
it,'"' 6cc. We have here some of the first flashy indications of
that vain-glorious and overweening spirit, which, turning the
grand question into a national quarrel, and affecting obliquely to
disclaim the principles of freedom out of which it arose and
which sanctified it, substituted the effervescence of French con-
ceit for the old leaven of Jacobinism, looked round with gaping
credulity for universal admiration, when it could only take a
stern defensive attitude and submit with firm resignation to an
honorable stigma ; made so many enemies, lost so many friends,
and while it set no bounds to the arrogance of its pretensions,
struck at the principle which had hitherto supported them, and
to which they must return to make a fatal stand.
Great Britain declared war against France the 15th of -May,
lr03. Peri id ever fatal and mem irable — the commencement of
another Iliad of woes not to be forgotten while the world shall
hist ! The former war had failed, and the object of this was to
make another desperate effort to put down, bv force of arms and
at every risk, the example of a revolution which had overturned
a hateful hut long-established tvrannv, anil had hitherto been
successful river everv attempt to crush it bv externa! or internal
means. The other causes assigned at different periods and ac-
cording to the emergency were mere masks t - c ver this, which
was the true, the constant, and sole-moving one in all circum-
stances and in ail fortunes : thr u: h li d re] rt and evil n ] ;'!.
m victorv or defeat, in the abyss of despair or the plenitude' of
sue;.'--, in every stavro an : phasis of its commencement, progress,
or d uble termination. 'Fheiv mi^hl have been a doubt on this
subject atone period (though none to a sober and dispassionate
judgment:) but th - '•• \ thoruise at this time of day,
an 1 after the catastrophe, are n >t to be believed. Whether that
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIES S. £49
object was just or not, is a different question ; and there may be
two opinions upon the subject, that of the free or of the slave.
Of all the fictions that were made use of to cloak this crying
iniquity, the pleas of justice and humanity were the most falla-
cious. No very great ceremony was employed on the present
occasion, but rather a cavalier and peremptory tone was en
:ouraged. Malta was a merely nominal pretext. The encroach-
ments of France, and the extension of its influence since the con-
clusion of the treaty, were said to endanger our possessions in
India, and to require Malta as an additional security. But had
not we extended our conquests in India in the mean time ? Or
would this have been held a valid plea, if the French had broken
oil* the treaty on that ground ? But we ourselves are always
exceptions to the rules we impose so magisterially on others.
Ju.-tice is not an attribute of the sea; conquests on the Continent
of Asia are very different things from conquests on the Continent
of Europe. Morality is one thing between the tropics, and an-
other nearer to the pole, and so on. As to the domineering spirit
and ambitious projects ascribed to France, it is true she had come
off victor in the late contest, which was a great crime, no doubt,
and an outrage on all proper decorum. In war, however, one
of the two parties must have the best of it ; and it is not usual
for the conquering party to give up its advantages. If you attack
an adversary, and he strikes you down, your returning to the
charge in despair or revenge does not prove that you are in the
right. Bathed malice is not justice ; nor does it become so by a
repetition of the offence, nor by any quantity of mischief' it inflicts
on itself or others. The federative system which Buonaparte
talked of strengthening was calculated to barricado France
against the successive Coalitions and the formidable lines of cir-
cumvallation which both now and afterwards the Allied Sover.
ei_rns (}vi'\v around it. Lombardy was not independent, but had
been wrested by France from its unwilling subjection to Austria
Let the facts speak, whose sway was mildest or best. If legiti
mate Princes expect, after losing the game of war, to receive
back the stakes, they do not practise the precepts which they
preach. They would play long enough at the game on these
terms. As to Buonaparte's making himself master of Switzc
12* "
250 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
land, it was not defacing the shrine of liberty, but stopping up a
door in a wall, through which a hireling assassin stole to destroy
it. Buonaparte did not shed the blood of the Swiss, but prevented
them from shedding it themselves in a useless quarrel. William
Tell could not come to life again to defend the neutrality of his
country j or if he had, would hardly have sided with its old op-
pressors (though there is no saying.) Buonaparte left the Swiss
in possession of their ancient laws and franchises; and only
claimed so much influence over them or management in their
e meerns, as to prevent their territory from becoming the rendez-
vous of foreign cabals and conspiracies against the French
Republic, or a thoroughfare for the hordes of slaves and barba-
rians to march to their long-promised prey. The old Republic
was jealous of the new one; and the country-places from sim-
plicitv and custom, the towns from a mixture of aristocratic pride
were averse to change. The plan which Buonaparte chalked
out for them was. for the most part, a model of moderation and good
sense. He wished t i preserve the right uf voting for their rep re-
ives in the democratic Cantons and pastoral districts; con-
tinued the grabcau or right of calling their Magistrates to account
i verv two vears ; extended the privilege of exercising the funo-
ti »ns of G iverntnent to a gn ater number of families in the
aristocratic Cantons; kept the independence of the Cantons dis-
tinct ; told tii" patriot Reding that the sun would return from the
WV.-t t i the Ivisl before the Valais w mid return under the v ike
oligarchy of Berne, and kept the Valtelinc out of the
clutches of the Grisons. Still it was treading on ticklish and
. ground. ll ga\ e a ban lie to the p iets and jurists
human tin lersi indiiur. the e injunc-
ti 01 of which is ominous. lie did u >t enough regard the real
-ei'-!;_eii and th>' in- >ch - ol Kngland. lie said if the Kng-
lid Cabinet had sh >\\ n •'. 1 n-t di>p -it; in to interf re. he
. : hive made d'.- .,' L>i/i'lt/ur/i'iii. In the same spirit he
e cri'.'i d liial •■ 1 d ■ i _ i . i : ; 1 c ,!d Hot e ..o ud single. hand d against
P.-rh ips not. it' K i been lashed to
'.. ■ C ' i' :.' : but as this was :, ' ' e e. t < :;oooi. [ do not see
Inat we w re t i g i I i w ir : " an idle uat ioual vaunt.
Jo ..rder to put lurselv..-.- to judg' impartially in
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS. 25i
this case, and to see on which side the impediments to maintaining
the relations of peace and amity lay, let us for a moment reverse the
picture, and turn the tables the other way. Let us suppose that
from the first cessation of hostilities a system of unqualified abuse
and unsparing ribaldry had commenced on the other side of the
water against the English nation and government ; that his Majesty
King George III. had been daily accused of the most shocking
public and private vices, and his name unblushingly coupled with
epithets that cannot be repeated ; that the females of the Royal
Family had been held up to opprobrium and contempt, as engaged
in the grossest and most scandalous intrigues ; that on application
being made to put a stop to the evil, the only redress that could
be obtained was an appeal to a Court of Justice, where all the
charges were insisted on with double relish and acrimony, amidst
a shout of exultation and jubilee from the whole venal press; let
us suppose that the ruling Monarch of this country had been,
without the intermission of a day, taunted with the mention of his
constitutional malady, and with his being the descendant of a
petty German Elector : let us suppose the surviving branches of
the Stuart family to be maintained in France at the public ex-
pense, and their pretensions to the throne of England sometimes
broadly insinuated, never clearly disavowed, but kept in a doubt-
ful state, to be brought forward at a moment's warning ; that
bands of organized rebels and assassins, in the pay of these
Princes, hovered constantly on the English coast to excite insur-
rection, and glided even into the Royal palaces ; that they had
several times attempted the life of the King, but that they were
still in the same favor and kept up a clandestine intercourse with
the Republican Government ; let us suppose that, remonstrances
were made against these proceedings, which were received with
official coldness and contempt ; but let us suppose it to have been
considered as a mark of want of zeal and devotion to the person
and government of the First Consul for any Frenchman to visit
England, or to be introduced at the English Court ; let us sup-
pose every advance towards confidence or cordiality to be care-
fully shunned, every handle for recrimination or distrust to be
eagerly seized on ; that, the articles of the pretended treaty of
peace were executed slowly, one by one ; that the reluctance to
852 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
conclude it evidently increased in proportion to the delays that
had taken place ; that at last, when the farce could he kept up
no longer, it was suddenly put an ena to by a flat refusal to exe-
cute one of the stipulations, and by forged rumors of preparations
in the ports of England to invade France — who would have
asked in that case on which side the bar to peace lay, or which
Government harbored a runted and rancorous desire for the re-
newal of the war ? But it may be said that there was a differ-
ence between Napoleon Buonaparte and George III. Yes, it
was on that difference that the whole question turned. It was
the sense of degradation, and of the compromise of the kingly
dignity in condescending to make peace on a friendly and equal
footing with an individual who had risen from the people, and
who had no power over them but from trie services he had ren-
dered them, that produced a repugnance, amounting to loath-
ing, to a peace with the Republic (like the touch of the lep-
r isv, like embracing an infectious body), thai plunged us into
all the hormrs and calamities of war, and brought us back in
the end to the arms and to the blessings of Legitimate Govern-
ment ! — Persons who are fond of dwelling on the work of retri-
bution, might perhaps trace its finger here. The Monarch sur-
vived the ace implishment of all his wishes, but without knowing
that they had been ace .mplished. To those who long aflei
passed that wav, at whatever hour of the night, a light shone
from one of t the watch-towers of Windsor Castle — it was from
ti.i <■ !!:.'•■■; •' l\ '. .. . ' ':■■!.: :'■■:': ><:' iva- •:!. '• wi:b duU-
b!<' d irkn r 'ss b mnd r: of body and mind ; nor was that film ever
removed, nor those eyes or that understanding rest red. to fail
the sacred triumph of Kir.irs over mankind : but the light
streamed and streamed iting no dawn within) for lovm
vears tion of that day which gladdened the
ts of Monarchs and of menial nations, and through that
. I ni^ht of slavery which succeeded — -the work of a single
L>o ; st, which it had dearly ae : h d in darkness, in self-ob-
livion, and in more than kinulv solitude !
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XXXII.
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND.
The English, previously to any formal declaration of war, had
seized on all the French shipping in their ports ; and Buonaparte,
provoked beyond measure by the infraction of the treaty, and by
this new outrage, made severe and perhaps unwarrantable repris-
als, by detaining all the English residing in France as prisoners
of war. Nothing could certainly excuse the extremity of this
mode of retaliation, both on account of the extent of the injury
and the description of persons on whom it chiefly fell, but that it
might serve as a lesson to a people who preached lofty maxims
of morality to others and thought their own will a sufficient law
to themselves, that justice and courtesy are reciprocal among na-
tions, and that if one of them chooses to indulge its enmity with-
out cause and without bounds, it at least cannot do so with
impunity. He never expressed any regret on this subject, but
rather his concern that he had nut made the regulations more rig-
orous, in revenue fur our having degraded the French prisoners
of war by sending them on board the hulks. We had met with
our match fur once ; and were like spoiled children, who hail cut
their fingers in playing with edged tools. Buonaparte's spirit
and firmness were often carried into obstinacy ; or it would have
been more to his credit if he had relaxed from this arbitrary de-
termination after the first ebullition of impatience and resentment
was over ; and probably he would have dune so, but for fresh and
aggravated provocations. Repeated landings of Chouans and
brigands on tin- French coast might not tend to improv*
per. or to make him sensible of what was due to the generosity
and magnanimity of the English character, fife indeed after-
wards otlered to compromise the matter, by including tiie detenus
in an exchange of prisoners; but the English Government stoud
254 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
out upon a political punctilio, disregarding- the prolonged distresses
of their countrymen over which they affected to make such pathetic
lamentations, hut which they would not go an inch out of their
way, or abate a jot of their sullen- scorn and defiance to alleviate.
Why then should Buonaparte ? A few exceptions were occa-
sionally made in favor of literary and scientific men, or those
who were considered as something more than mere Englishmen.
The rest were condemned to linger out a long and painful cap-
tivity, which was equally without dignity or even the sting of dis-
grace, and as hopeless in the prospect of its termination as it was
unaccountable in its commencement. It is not too much to con-
jecture that the Tory Ministry felt no very acute sympathy, nor
took a very active interest in their sufferings. They had been
rightly served, and had been caught in the trap thai had been
prepared for them by their idle curiosity and ridiculous Gallo-
mania /* Their harsh treatment affixed an odium on the French
government and nation ; and it was of little consequence by what
means the popular mind on this side the channel was gangrened
and inflamed. It was immaterial what ingredients were thrown
into the boiling cauldron of national hate, or employed to make
the charm of loyalty '' thick and slab.'"' Whatever swelled the
war-whoop or cut off the chance of reconciliation, pleased. The
seizure of Hanover (as belonging to the King of England, though
at peace with France) was in the same point of view regarded as
no mTpropTtious omen; and the occcupation of Tarentum and
other sea-ports of the kingdom of Naples bv the French, soon
after the breaking out of hostilities, was cited as a proof of the
justice and expediency of the war, and as disclosing in the clear-
est light their real character and previous intentions, together
wi'h the unprincipled and perfidious policv of their leader. The
latter -'-■in- at least to have been determined that if he could not
have peace, he would make other countries support the expenses
<;f war. Buonaparte was all along treated like an outlaw, which
* "When n young artist at this prrioil was questioned whether he had
been over to France, and he answeivl that he had not. nor ha advance into Hanover. The
management of this expedition was entrusted to General Mortiej,
who commanded ihe first military division. The Hanoverian
army, under the Duke of Cambridge and General Walmoden,
withdrew at the approach of the French, and successively occu-
pied different positions; but were at length compelled to disband,
after giviiv up their arms, horses, and ammunition. The regi-
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND. 237
ments of French cavalry were now sent to Hanover to be re-
mounted, as they had formerly been sent into Normandy ; and
the Electorate furnished considerable military stores of all kinds.
If the English were justified in keeping possession of Malta (in
the teeth of treaties) lest it should at some future time be made a
means of annoying us in India, were not the French at least
equally justified in taking possession of a country whose Sove-
reign was at war with them, and whose resources would be in-
stantly turned against them with the first occasion, in spite of the
provisions of the Germanic Constitution ? This was the answer
given to Prussia and Austria, who, being in the true secret of the
war, gave themselves little trouble about the diplomatic glosses on
either side. The Prince-Royal of Denmark was the only Sove-
reign who protested against the informality of the measure, and
raised an army of thirty thousand men in Ilolstein ; but being
unsupported by any other power, he soon laid aside the offensive
attitude which he had assumed.
The First Consul had lung intended to visit the Netherlands ;
he took the occasion of the rupture with England to fulfil this in-
tention, and at the same time to inspect the coast and harbors of
the Channel. lie set out from St. Cloud with Madame Buonaparte
''who accompanied him in almost all his journey*) and dined at
Compiegne. He went to visit the palace, which had been turned
into a school of arts and manufactures, and where no fitter spot
could be found, for serving the dinner than the landing-place of
tin- great stair-ease. Buonaparte expressed a feeling of regret at
beholding the dilapidated condition of so noble a building, and
that same evening wrote to the Minister of the Interior to give
orders for the repair of this majestic pile. The school of arts was
re mi ived to Chalons. It was right not to have the school and work-
shops there ; but perhaps it would have; been better to have left
the ruin standing as a memento of the past, a warning for the
future. Ho might in that ease have been himself still standing,
but for the affectation of restoring decayed palaces and obsolete
institutions ! He was received at Amiens with an enthusiastic
welcome. He staved some days here, visiting the several estab-
lishments and manufactories, in the company of Citizens Monge,
Chaptal, and Berthollet. He next passed through Montreuil,
•25S LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Etaplcs, Boulogne, Amblctcuso, Vimereux, Calais, and Dunkirk,
ordering the most skilful engineers at those several places to fall
in with his suite, and asking questions of every person he met.
From Dunkirk he proceeded through the principal fortified towns
and sea-ports to Antwerp, which remained in the condition in
which he had received it back ; but where, after its condition had
been thoroughly examined, those important works were under-
taken which were in the sequel carried into effect.
A Naval Council was assembled for the purpose of deliberating
on the means the Chief Consul possessed of grappling with the
power of Kngland at sea ; and he became soon convinced that
the resources at his actual disposal were wholly inadequate to
the object which he had in contemplation. The Council was
unanimously of opinion that the fleet oi' men of war afforded no
chance of success. The only chance that remained of contend-
ing with England on an equal footing was to attempt a descent,
which could not be effoci'ed without the aid of a flotilla. Decres,
the .Minister of .Marine, was against the plan, saving that if the
French constructed a flotilla, the English would, raise one also,
and come out to meet them. Admiral Bruix was for it, and his
opinion prevailed. The First Consul immediately gave orders to
the civil and naval engineers to draw up plans and estimates of
the expenses of the works in each department of the service, and
to present models of the vessels which they deemed best calcu-
lated for the undertaking. lie then proceeded to Brussels, where
he was received with the most lively acclamations, and returned
to I'aris bv way of Liege, Civet, Sedan, llheims, and Soissous.
He did n it pass through a single town that was famed for anv
particular branch of industr\ without visiting its works] ops and
manufactories, and without constantly manifsting his regret at
hi ;ng obliged so s ion to withdraw Ins attention from the sources
of national prosperity to obji cts of u very different nature. Im-
mediately after his return to l\tn<. on comparing the various re
p irts that had been sent in, lie issued directions f >r constructing a
vast number of gun-boa's, (latdiottoined boa's, and other craft, to
the amount of some thousands. Kaeh considerable citv had voted
money for the building of a man of war; the less wealthy ami
populous made the same offer of gun-boats or flat-bottomed boats.
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE EXGLAXD. 259
These offers were accepted ; and in order to lose no time, and not
to interfere with the ships of war which were on the stocks,
t lie keels were laid along the hanks of navigable rivers, where
the carpenters and other workmen were assembled from the ad-
jacent districts; and when finished they were floated down to the
mouths of the rivers running into the sea between Harfleur and
Flushing, and being collected into little squadrons and sent forth
from their retreats, crept close along the shore, favored by the
breezes or protected by the batteries erected on the capes and
promontories, to their place of rendezvous. Holland likewise
furnished her own flotilla on the same plan.
While the French navy (if this Lilliputian armament can be
called so) was displaying such unwonted activity, the army was not
idle. The regiments, the greater part of which were composed
of conscripts, quitted their garrisons, and proceeded to form
camps which extended from Utrecht to the mouth of the Somme.
The camp of Utrecht was commanded by General Marmont, who
had been succeeded as inspector of artillery by General Songis.
This and Mortier's formed the first and second corps. The others,
under the orders of Davoust, Soult, XVy, Lannes, and Junot, with
the regiments of dragoons and chasseurs, lined the coast from the
Scheldt to the mouths of the Oise and of the Aisne. The troops
thus distributed were employed and exercised in the manner of
the Romans ; they laid down the musket to take up the mattock,
and the mattock to resume the musket ; and, to complete the
omen derived from this similarity, a Roman battle-axe was re-
ported to have been dug up near Boulogne, at the same time that
medals of William the Conqueror were also said to be found under
the spot where Buonaparte's tents had been fixed. The engi-
neers projected immense works, which were all executed in this
manner by the troops. They scooped out the harbor of Boulogne,
which had been selected as the centre of the intended operations ;
they constructed a pier, built a bridge, opened a sluice, and dug a
basin capable of holding two thousand of the vessels of the flotilla.
It was resolved to form a port at Vimeri six, which was to be raised
fifteen feet above the surface of the sea in the highest tides. The
troops acord'ngly fell to work, and in less than a year they had
260 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
excavated and lined with masonry a basin fit to receive two hun-
dred gun-boats.
At Ambleteuse the works which had been left unfinished in
the time of Louis XVI. were recommenced. The bed of the river
was so obstructed that the water would not run off, but covered
several thousand acres of land in high cultivation, thereby redu-
cing numbers of families to poverty, and generating unwholesome
effluvia and noxious distempers in the neighborhood. All this
was in a short time remedied. A sluice was formed ; and the
river returning within its channel, gave back to agriculture the
land which it had overflowed, and to the adjacent country the
salubrity which it had lost. Thus in time of war did Buonaparte
contrive and execute the works of peace ! The troops who were
employed in these various and arduous labors were paid ; they
proceeded in them with alacrity, and only left off when they were
compelled by the tide, and then they resumed their firelocks and
went to exercise. It was the same at Boulogne, where all the
works and establishments of a great naval arsenal sprung upas
if by magic. Magazines were firmed, ships built, cannon founded,
sails and cordage made, biscuit baked, and the army, which was
busv in all these tasks, trained at the same time. Various
manoeuvres were performed by night, and the soldiers were
practised in embarking and disembarking with celerity. The
superintendance of so many undertakings might be said to sur-
pass human powers ; and yet the Chief Consul (as if he had been
onlv aniusinir himself with a licet of cockle-shells) found time to
attend to the vast concerns of France and Italy. No wonder it
was called ambition : it was power, and so far to be' flared ! He
had hired near Boulogne a small mansion called. Pont de Briqur,
on the Paris road. lie usually arrived there when the soldiers
least expected him. immediately mounted his horse, rede- through
the camps, and was back again at St. Cloud when lie was sup-
posed to b" still in the midst '.ft!)'' troops ; — or he visited the har-
bor, spoke to the men. and went down into the basins to ascertain
with his own eyes to what depth they had dug since lie had been
last there. He often took back' to dine with him at seven or
eight in the evening Admiral IJruix, General Soult, Sganzin,
superintendant uf the works, Fuultrier, inspector of die artillery,
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND. 281
and the commissary charged with the supply of provisions ; so
that before he retired to bed, he knew more of what was going
forward than if he had read whole volumes of reports. The
coolness of his head. seemed to keep pace with the hurry of his
movements, and the clearness of his views with the complication
of affairs and interests he had to attend to. It was at this period
that the army was first divided into separate corps ; M. de la
Bouillerie, a friend of General Moreau, was appointed paymaster-
general. Buonaparte placed great confidence in him, which he
afterwards repaid, as so many others did.
\\ "hile Buonaparte's projected expedition was viewed with
various sentiments at home, and was ridiculed by many as child-
ish and extravagant, from a comparison of the gun-boats with the
size of British men-of-war, it caused a great deal of bustle and
alarm (serious or affected) on this side of the Channel. All our
fleets were put into requisition from the Baltic to the Tagus, from
the Tagus to the coasts of Sicily. Not a fishing-boat but seemed
to have new life put into it, and to prepare for the conflict. Up-
wards of five hundred ships of war, of various descriptions and
sizes, scoured the ocean in different directions. English squad-
rons blockaded every port in the Channel or Mediterranean ; and
our cruisers were either seen scudding over the waters, like sea-
gulls dallying with their native element and hovering near their
prey, or stood in and insulted the enemy on his own shores, cut-
ting,out his vessels or dismantling his forts. By land, the hubbub
and consternation was not less. Britain armed from one end to
the other to repel the threatened invasion. An army of volun-
teers sprung up like grasshoppers. Every hill had its horseman:
every bush or brake its sharp-shooter. The preparations were
not the least active at the greatest distance from the scene of
danger. Petitions were put into our liturgy to deliver us from
an insolent and merciless foe, who '-was about to swallow us up
quick; 1 ' nor was there a church-door in the remotest corner of
Croat Britain on which was not posted a call on high and low,
rich and poor, to bestir themselves in the common defence, pro-
ceeding from Mr. Cobbett's powerful pen, which roused the
hopes and fears of the meanest rustic into a flame of martial en-
thusiasm.
262 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
; - Victorque sinon mcendia miscet
lnsultans."
There never was a time in which John Bull felt his zeal or cou-
rage greater, or felt it so with less expence of real danger. We
had all the trappings, the finery, the boastings, and the imaginary
triumphs of war, without the tragic accompaniments which were
left for others to bear: our spirit of martyrdom was never put to
the proof, we had become a nation of heroes without shedding a
drop of our blood, and the bug-bear which had made such a noise
drew off without a blow being struck on British ground. What
a difference between that period and the present ! France seem,
ed then to rear up and enlarge its vaunted power, as if it would
fall upon and crush us : the Revolutionary hydra haunted and
took sleep from our eyes ; now we can scarcely find its faded form
in the map, it is like a cloud in the horizon, or no more to us than
if it had never existed, or than if the waters of the Channel had
rolled their briny ooze over it ! France would have troubled us
no more then than now, if we could but have been persuaded to
let it alone.
This state of things continued for nearly two years, which were
passed in idle menaces on one side and vulgar bravado on the
other, keeping alive the spirit of rancor and hostility, and in-
flaming old wounds or opening new ones, till the chance of any
cordial reconciliation became as hopeless as any good to be de-
rived from the contest. The new Continental Coalition towards
the beginning of l-i)o broke up the war of words and defiance,
bv diverting Buonaparte's attention to a qu irry more within his
grasp : and the battle of Trafalgar put the finishing stroke to the
plan of a descent upon our coasts. Buonaparte has been some-
times accused of rashness and extravagance in dreaming of the
invasion at all. and at ot!n r» charged with duplicity in pretending
that he ever seriously meditated it. He did not, however, it is
clear, trust t i his I] it-b ;t urn d ie f r off cting his object.
They were nieivlv intended in the last resort to transport the
troops, after lie had gained the command of the Channel for a f'rw
davs, bv collecting there a la |] et of French men-of-war than
any the English could bring ag dust him at a moment's notice.
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND. 263
This event was to be brought about by putting into motion an im-
mense and precarious system of naval tactics and manoeuvres,
which by their very complexity, secresy, and the uncertainty of
the elements, which must concur in their punctual execution,
were almost sure to miscarry. His plan was for the diffeient
fleets he could muster (to the amount of fifty or sixty vessels in
all) to get out of the harbors where they were blockaded by the
English, to rendezvous at Martinique, and the English ships being
dispersed in pursuit of them, to set sail back again all at once,
and form a junction (together with the Spanish fleet who were by
this time at war with England) off Brest or in Boulogne harbor,
so as to make Buonaparte master of the Straits of Dover for thr< e
or four days, and thus to enable him to effect the landing of one
hundred and sixty thousand men in two thousand flat-bottomed
boats prepared for the purpose, and to march immediately to
London and take possession of the capital. In fact, in pursuance
of an infinite variety of orders, details, and contrivances, the Tou-
lon and Rochefort squadrons under Villeneuve and Miciessy, the
one with twenty, the other with six ships made their escape,
rallied at Martinique, and returned to Europe after an action with
Admiral Calder, and some delay in consequence of it. The
English squadrons before Ferrol and Rochefort finding the enemy
had escaped left those stations, and proceeded to join the Chan-
nel fleet before Brest, which then became superior to Admiral
Gantheaume's fleet of twenty-one ships, who could not quit the
reads of Bertheaume and Brest in order to effect his union with
Admiral Villeneuve. The latter at a loss what to do in these
new circumstances, and always taking the feeblest course, instead
of making direct for Brest according to Napoleon's latest instruc-
tions and his o\tfn declarations, put into Corunna and afterwards
into Ferrol, whence he proceeded to get himself blockaded in
Cadiz harbor. This was in the latter end of the summer of 1305.
He only went there to tight the well-known battle of Trafalgar,
which destroyed the French and Spanish navies, and completely
prostrated the reputation of their unfledged commanders before
that of the English. In the meantime the delay of Villeneuve in
arriving off the mouth of the Channel, and tin- failure of so many
intricate combinations, proved ruinous to the projected expedition
264 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
against England. It was a vast and unwieldy machine, made
up of a number of minute parts and problematical movements,
the derangement of any one of which must be nearly fatal to the
whole. It must be confessed that this was the weak side of
Buonaparte's character (for the excess of strength always inclines
to a degree of weakness) that he sometimes seemed disposed to
mistake the number and extent of the means that he called into
existence and the clearness and comprehension with which he ar-
ranged them, as far as it was possible beforehand, for the final
success of the measure, and that his own energy and resolution,
both from natural temperament and the confidence of habitual
success, made him put the will for the deed ! The very bold-
ness and strength of will which are necessary to great actions,
must often defeat them ; for a high spirit does not easily bend to
circumstance or stoop to prudence. Whatever were his own re-
sources, lie could not always command the co-operation of others ;
yet his plans were on too large a scale not to require it. Neither
was he wrong in attributing his failure to the elements: he was
onlv wrong in building sanguine hopes on schemes which de-
pended on their favorable guidance, or in placing himself at their
mercy. I; is however likely that he had never much stomach for
the invasion of tins country ; he perhaps thought where nothing
could be done, it was as well to make a proportionable display of
preparations and an ostentatious career of evasions; and he turned
from it twice, first to venture on his Egyptian expedition, and the
second time to hail the sun of Austerlitz.
N< /her can I think s > po >rly of my countrymen (with all mv
dissatisfaction with them) as to suppose that even if Buonaparte
Lad miid'- good his landinir, it would have been all over with us.
II-- might have le\ I i : Loud >n with the dust, but he must have
covered the face of the country with heaps and tumuli of the
slain, bi fore this mixed breed .,!' .V.rman and Saxon blood would
have submitted t > a s< c nd N >rman e iifjuest. Whatever may
be mv opinion of the wisdom of the people, or the honesty of their
-. I never denied tin > r obstinacy. Thev do not
give in the sooner in a > r having provoked it. They
would not receive a foreign invasion as a visit of courtesy ; nor
bubmit 10 be conquered like a nation of women, hardly complain-
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND. 265
ing of the rudeness. The French alone have arrived at that
point of politeness and effeminacy. The English are not a suffi-
ciently theatrical people to disguise the fact of having been beaten,
if they had ; and are too sensible of disgrace not to resent it to the
death. I cannot pretend to say, to what point of resistance their
love of their king or country might carry them ; but they have
too much hatred of the French ever to submit to them as masters.
Buonaparte's hopes of a favorable reception, or of no very de-
termined resistance in Ireland, were better founded ; and one of
the alternatives proposed to Villeneuve was to touch on the West-
ern coast of Ireland, and leave a detachment of troops there as a
cover to the attempts upon England. That country was disaf-
fected to the English Government, and torn in pieces by reli-
gious and civil discords ; and worse usage was resorted to in
order to regain its affections than that by which they had been
alienated. It had been lately united to England, and its legisla-
tive independence abolished by a breach of faith and a mockery
of justice, which seemed the order of the day with the British
Ministry, of which Mr. Pitt was become once more the presiding
genius. Two sanguinary rebellions (the issue of which was
each time nearly doubtful) had broken out and been crushed by
force of arms and the most odious system of civil treachery and
espionage. Instead of a desire to heal and remedy what was
amiss, there was n > wish but to irritate and degrade — to aggra-
vate the injustice and punish the resistance to it — to consider the
nation as enemies and subjects at the same time. Ireland was
always treated as a conquered province, to be kept in submis-
sion by fear and harshness ; an illiberal and narrow-minded po-
licy denied it agricultural and commercial advantages, and the
difference of faith added religious intolerance to civil persecu-
tion. No pains were take!) to instruct or improve ; to diffuse
comfort or to open the channels for industry, but rather to
obstruct them. England was the step-mother of Ireland. That
wretched, short-sighted, malevolent system was pursued, which
sed that every advantage gained bv Ireland, and ev< ry
advance she made in civilization and prosperitv, was a loss and
an injury done to England ; instead of that true and enlight-
ened one, equally approved by reason and humanity, which
vol. II. 13 23
266 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
knows and which feels that one state cultivating its natural and
peculiar advantages to the utmost can never be a detriment, but
must be a benefit to another, while they are united by friendly
intercourse and by the bond of a common government. As well
might one county of England think to prosper by ruining the
husbandry of the adjoining county. Religious differences height-
ened and Inflamed the original grievance ; doubled the burdens
of the poor • jaundiced their minds, and by throwing them into
the hands of the Popish clergy, fostered their ignorance and made
the evil hopeless. Sloth, poverty, and a sense of debasement
rendered them reckless of consequences, unable to see their way
out of them, except by violence and bloodshed ; and thus a whole
people, by mismanagement and mischievous prejudices, were
daily plunged deeper into civil strife or a state of merely animal
existence. The example of other countries, and " envy of hap-
pier lands," that had asserted their independence, gave the last
temptation to their disloyalty ; and Ireland about this time hung
trembling in the balance between her wavering allegiance to
Great Britain and her inclination to accept the overtures to aid
her in the recovery of her disputed rights. Buonaparte wished
that she should throw herself into the arms of France ; but to
this the leaders of that parly who were desirous to separate Ire-
land from her union with England, would never consent ; and
on that understanding, they finally parted.*
It was in the interval here spoken of, immediately after the break,
ing off of the Treaty of Amiens, and while [monaparte was strength-
ening and enlarging the foundations of his power, that this & mntry
(strange to say) was inundated with theories and elaborate trea-
tises to prove the nullity of all attempts at liberty and the bless-
ings of absolute monarchy. Mr. Malthus's celebrated Essay on
Population, which got into great vogue just at this time, stilled
the voice of humanity; and by representing the perfectibility of
social institutions as the greatest evil that could happen from the
* ••When the Catholic (juesiion was first seriously agitated." said Napo-
leon . " I would hive given fifty millions to he assured, that it would not he
grantee] ; for it would have entirely ruined my projects upon Ireland, as the
Catholics, it' you emancipate them, would become as loyal subjects as the
Protestants." — f/Meara. vol. i. p. 'i'M.
PREPARATIONS TO INVADE ENGLAND. 267
overwhelming population that would rush in when the restraints
of vice and misery were taken away, effectually served to make
every gradation towards improvement and approach to liberty and
happiness suspected and to he viewed with an instinctive horror
and distrust. Dr. Bisset at great length went into the flourishing
state of the Romans and the happiness of the world under the
latter Emperors ; and Mr. Mitford in his History of Greece fully
exposes the mischiefs of Republics. And all this at a period
when the press, the pulpit, the taverns, and the theatre resounded
with patriotic appeals and invectives against the strides of the
French Usurper towards universal dominion. One would have
thought these studied ami systematic apologies for the evils of
war, ambition, and arbitrary government were intended to flatter
him and smooth his path to power. Far from it: they were
meant to aid and exasperate the popular and party watch-words
of the day. For power and prejudice knew full well with that
consistent truth and keeping that belongs to them and that shames
the faltering ami misguided friends of freedom, that his strongest
pretensions and his hold on power were rooted in the illusions of
liberty and the progress of liberal principles ; and that by blight-
ing these which were the supports of the new system, they lent
the most effectual aid to the antagonist system they wanted to prop
up, and by stopping the current of enthusiasm and the hope of
public good, let public opinion drift back again unseen but irre-
vocably to that sink of apathy, corruption, and inveterate abuse,
which was the haven of their desires, and the bourn from whic/t
slavery never returns.
•26S LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXXIII
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, AND OTHERS.
It should seem that the contest in which England had em.
barked to restore the Bourbons and overturn the popular Govern-
incut of France, had not only involved a sacrifice of the political
principles which had hitherto distinguished us from the rest of the
world, but also, as the cause became desperate, led to a change
in the moral sentiments of the country. In our fits of revenge
and disappointment, we hud worked ourselves up to regard the
enemy opposed to us in mortal strife as wretches,, outlaws, traitors,
rebels, who were to be got rid of at any price, and we did not
scruple to snatch at any means which were calculated to attain
so worthy an end, and which were daubed over with the colors of
loyalty and patriotism by the passions winch suggested them.
Mr. Fox had been unwilling to allow that the British Cabinet
knew any thing of the Infernal Machine: perhaps the number
and description of persons (some of them the very same) that now
continually crossed the Channel, and were landed from English
cutter.- on the c ast of France, might have staggered him in his
opinion, had he had to d di-nd it anew with the First Consul. If
in our habitual language and feelings we are determined to con-
sider anv une as n i better than a mad dig or a wild beast, we
shall beloi'e long let our actions slide into the same train. 1 should
i it - uti r inl i r insist m this vii w of lb ' subj'-ct. but that a hol-
1 ;W tone of liMi'al purity has b ■ n made the [m e-xt fn' u
mining the foundations uf every spoils of political liberty, and
tn.it 1 e niceive the exin me tin i>ui'i - ' i u inch Fnirlan 1 res rt< d
at this period, and the llagrant departure I'r mi the blunt and strait-
tiirward character t > whicii sii" laid claim, proved to a demonstra-
ti 'ii that there was a radic d c . .._•■ in lier c unsels, an I that the
war had a tar deeper and deadlier obj< ct at stake- (beyond the pro-
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 269
fessed and immediate one) rankling in the hear'.s of its leaders,
and urging them on in a course of infatuation and dishonor.
The original object of the war, whether this were overturning
the new form of Government or checking the political ascendency
of France, was still as far or farther than ever from its accom-
plishment. Neither peace nor war seemed to dissolve the power
nor to influence the good fortune of the French Ruler. We had
made peace with him, flunking that he was a mere soldier: find-
ing that he applied himself with equal zeal and success to advan-
cing the prosperity and glory of the Republic in peace, and des-
pairing of ruining him that way, we made war upon him again.
We had gained nothing more by this step than to be able to repel
and set at defiance the threat of invasion, and we did not talk as
vet of returning the compliment. One sign of success, however,
is a blind adherence to our purpose in the midst of failure, and a
determination not to turn back, though we have not the most dis-
tant prospect of ever coming to our journey's end. Though we
could not carry the war with broad and open front into France,
yet the rupture of the Peace of Amiens gave us the opportunity
of insinuating plots and conspiracies, and disseminating civil war,
by the intervention of flights of emissaries sent over from Eng-
land, and their intrigues with the swarms of emigrants that Buo-
naparte (after he was chosen Consul) had called home, as if for
the very purpose. There was more in it than this. Buonaparte
had become the direct obstacle of peace, that is, to the projects
of the old Governments; he was the main prop of the Colossus
that was said to threaten the extinction of the civilized world: the
power and genius of Republican France were centered in his
single person. What scheme then so feasible or so effectual as to
cut short the ramifications and intricate knots of conspiracy with
the dagger, and to get rid of the obnoxious individual at whom
they all pointed, by a side-blow or the chance-medley of assassi-
nation, which it would be easy to lay on the uncontrollable fury
of the opposing factions and the desperate designs and characters
of the different agents; from the complexion and well-known his
tory of most of these (rubbers, outlaws, incendiaries) it is evident
that such a catastrophe was likely to happen ; and at any rate, it
was not the result the least thought of or the most carefully
!270 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
guarded against. Indeed, the dissolute character and reckless
fanaticism of these men, who were sent over at imminent risk of
their lives, and concealed with the profbundest mystery, so that
they could only strike some dark and deadly blow which they
would consider as an act of devoted heroism, was the only chance
or hope the conspiracy had of success: it had no other means or
strength, nor were any risings to be effected in the West nor the
French Princes to come forward till the decisive blow had been
struck. Mr. Drake and Mr. Spencer Smith, our envoys at Mu-
nich and Stuttgard, were busy in carrying on an intrigue with
some pretended Jacobin insurgents, offering them money from
the English Government (who else could give it ?) and always
pointing out Buonaparte as the great obstacle to success; the
Duke D'Enghien was at Ettenheim waiting the event; Pichegru
went over from London (where he had been lurking) to sound
Moreau, and to gain over the disaffected among the military; and
Georges Cadoudal, and other Yendean Chiefs, were brought to
Paris and had frequent interviews with the Polignacs, Do La
Reviercs, and some' of the most distinguished emigrants in Paris,
to forward the like chivalrous and spirited designs.
Indistinct rumors were for some time afloat as if to prepare t lie
public mind for a great change ; and letters were received from
London, confidently stating that the First Consul would shortly be
arrested in his career. Alarming intelligence was also received
of meetings and discourses hold by peasants in La Vendee. The
First Consul grew nneasv, and determined to search the matter to
the bottom. lie is said to have had a remarkable tart for judging
when he was upon a volcano; but this is n >t wond rful in one
(even of less sagacity) who had a knowb dge of every circum-
stance that was passing, and so deep an interest in the event.
Then; was at this time (the beginning of ISO 1) no Ministry or
Police, that office havinir been abolished soon alter the peace at
the siiLTLi'esti in of Tal 1 e v rand . as useless and odious, and partly to
eel rid of the troublesome influence of Fouche, to whom the
M i istor for Foreign Affairs was bv no means friendly. A
■ 11 ir of State (M. Real) had the superintendancc of every
thing of this sort, in cone rt with the Grand-Judge. Trials by
councils of war had of late been rare ; but there were a number
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES. PICIIEGRU, ETC. 271
of persons detained in prison as spies or for other political offences.
Buonaparte had a list of these laid before him. Among them
was a man named Picot, and another named Le Bourgeois, who
had been apprehended the foregoing year at Pont-Audener in
Normandy, as coming from England with intent to assassinate the
First Consul. They had hitherto been merely kept in prison.
They and three others were now ordered to be brought before a
commission to be tried. The t\*;o first-mentioned refused to an-
swer, and were condemned and shot without making the slightest
discovery. They persisted in declaring that the Republic would
not survive the war. Their obduracy lessened the pity of the
spectators; but not a step had been gained. The other trials
were postponed. A disclosure of the intrigues and manoeuvres
of the English resident at the court of Wirtemberg took place
about this time. The First Consul became very anxious ; and
one night, looking over the list of prisoners, saw the name of
Querel, who was described as a native of Bas Bretagne, and as
having served as a surgeon in the rebel army. He had come to
Paris about two months before ; a creditor whom he was unable
to pay had given information against him. "This man," said
Buonaparte, " is not actuated by enthusiasm, but by the hope of
gain, and he, will be more likely to confess than the others." Ho
was accordingly tried the next day as h Chouan, and condemned
to death ; but as he was led to execution, he demanded to be
heard and promised to make important disclosures. lie was con-
ducted back to prison, where he made his declarations. He in
fact confessed that he had come from England, and had been
landed on the coast from Captain \Y right's ship in company with
Georges, in August 1803. Indifferent nights of August, Sep-
tember, and December 1803, and January 1801, Wright had
landed Georges, Piohegru, Riviere, Coster, St. Victor, La Have,
Si. llilaire, and others, at Beville in Normandy. The fburlast-
! 'lined had been accomplices in the affair of the Infernal Machine ;
;md most of the rest were well known to be Chouan chiefs.
They remained during the day at a little farm-house near the
place where they had landed ; the proprietor of which had been
oribed to assist them. They travelled only by night, pretending
to be smugglers, concealing themselves in the day-time in lodf-
272 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ings which had been previously procured for them. They enter-
ed Paris singly, where they never went out or showed themselves
but when summoned for some particular purpose, and where
Georges also lay hid. They had all been landed from an Eng-
lish cutter at the same spot, at the foot of the cliff of Bevilie
iear Dieppe, which they ascended by means of the Smuggler's
Hope, and were met by a man from Eu or T report, called
Troche, the son of a watch-maker, who was an old emissary of
the party. Savary, with some police-ollicers, was instantly dis-
patched to the spot, where he found all the particulars to corres-
pond with the previous statement, and saw an English cutter near
the shore, (as it was said, with an illustrious personage on board)
but which, on some alarm being given, sin ered oil*.
At the same time an emigrant, named Bouvet de Lozier. was
also arrested. After ho had been confined for some weeks, he
became desperate, and hung himself in the prison one morning.
The gaoler hearing an unusual noise in the room, ran in and cut
him down in time.* While he was recovering his senses, he
broke out into incoherent exclamations that Morcau had brought
Pichegru from London, that he was a traitor and had persuaded
*hi'in (the emigrants) that the army were all for him. and that he
would prove the cause of their destruction. This excited fresh
suspicions. The police knew that a brother of Pichegru, who
had been a monk, lived in Paris. lie was discovered in an ob-
scure lodging, ami being interrogated, owned that he had seen
his brother within a \'r\v davs, and asked " W it wi're a crime ?"
.Morcau was arrested on his wav from Gros-Bois, (his countrv-
house) and large rewards were ollbivd for the apprehension of
Pichegru and Georges. Pichegru was betrayed bv one of his
old friends with whom he lived, and who came to the police and
otiercd to deliver him up for a hundred thousand francs paid on
the spot. Piclc'LO'ii had been received, and was secreted in this
man - li iii.-' soi new here near the barrier id" Xeuillv, whence he
had - -lie to his di lib rent interviews with M ran. I Je was a
large, powerful man. and the p ,]](_■<■ had s mu 1 diliiculty in si i/.ing
him; they rushed upon him while he was ash'ep, struck out a
* I Ltd In; suei:i."''l>"l in tin' aitcaijit. it wuiiH probably have been attribu-
ted to Buonaoarte. and recorded L..],^ at'ter anion;' " Lis other atrocities."
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 273
light which was burning by his bedside, and overturned a table
on which his pistol lay. He was carried before the Grand-
Judge, and at first persisted in an absolute denial of any know-
ledge of the conspiracy, till he had been successively confronted
with such of Georges's accomplices as had already been arrested.
Georges himself still continued to elude the vigilance of the po-
lice. Paris was surrounded with a cordon of troops, and the barriers
were closed night and day, and only opened for the market-people to
pass and repass. The cavalry of the guard and of the garrison
furnished guard posts on the outer Boulevards, and had videttes
round the wall inclosing the capital. Continually moving from
one towards the other, the latter formed permanent patroles,
having orders to apprehend' every one who should seek to gain
the country by scaling the walls.
Paris remained in this state of gloomy alarm, presenting the
aspect of a city in a state of siege, for nearly three weeks. At
the end of that period, Georges was betrayed and taken, having
first shot one of the men employed to arrest him. He was dis-
covered in a cabriolet, in which after being driven from hiding-
place to hiding-place, and shunned by all his associates, he had
passed the last two days in riding about Paris, and meant to have
attempted his eseape from it, just as he was seized. Such is the
state of harassing anxiety and desperation to which these men
were led in the first instance by a strong principle of party-spirit,
which had no other support or encouragement to carry it through
to the very jaws of agony and death than t lie love of violent ex-
citement, and the sense of the depth of the stake that was played
fir ! It was in itself no very enviable situation for Georges to be
in, to be an object of execration and vengeance to a whole city ;
what then hardened him against compunction or remorse ? It
was the reflection that he had been able to throw a whole city into
consternation, and might yet bailie his pursuers. The resolution
of such men is strengthened instead of being weakened by the
mischief they have done, even though it has recoiled upon them-
selves ; the mind is happily relieved from the sense of insignifi
cance ; nor can they be bribed, by any temptation, to keep their
hands oil* the wires and pulleys tiiat move such might.}- levers,
and lead to the convulsion of states. Georges is described as a
13*
274 LIFE OF XAPOLFOX.
man of great courage and activity, brutal and ignorant, and deaf
to every thing but his own rooted prejudices. Buonaparte, after
the establishment of the Consulship, tried to win him over, but in
vain. He told him, that even if he succeeded in restoring the
Bourbons, they would only look upon him as a peasant, a miller's
son. Georges probably thought himself that he was only a mil-
ler's son. The fanatic bows down before his idol, without asking
what the object of his homage thinks of him ! Georges then went
over to England, where he became a confidential spy and agent
of tiie Bourbons. He and his confederates underwent a public
trial in the month of* May. (180-1) before the tribunal of the de-
partment of the Seine, and in the presence of all the Foreign
Ambassadors. Georges, Polignac, Riviere, Coster, and sixteen or
seventeen others were found guilty, on the clearest evidence, and
by the confession of several among them, of having conspired
against the life of the First Consul and the safety of the Republic,
and were c aidemned to death. Georges and Coster, with seven
or eight more, were executed. Riviere was pardoned a; the par-
ticular instigati in of Murat. \vh an he repai i h ith ingratitude, and
is said in 181o to have set a price upon his head. Buonaparte
pan! inn] some of the others, partieularlv the Marquis Pulignac,
at the instance of his wife. Moreau was c ind'-mncd to two vears'
imprisonment, which was commuted to banishment to America.
M. Jules de Pulignac, confidant of the Count (FArtuis, and some
I'.hei's, wire a'..- 1 sentenced to imprisonment. Pichc^ru killed
him- . : . . '■■ u. u hi!e the trials wmv g ilwj on.
The ubj'-cl 'if this conspiracv. which had excited so much ex-
[)i 1" itiuu. widen hail set so many engines at u irk, ami the' crush-
iuLT of which se lie e i ; . have put an en ; to >imilar atlempts from
iii" - me ijiiarter. appeai-s to have Ij ■■ .1 tirsl : 1 tamper with and
iriiii over the- ; K-aiis of the di-aih-cteil LTenerals ; and
lii 11. ;, :i'i .. il rid of F. naparte by u coiip-'b-muin. which
. :. ; v • i.'o>t 11 jt i 1 i 11 ir 1 ''.,■;.-• stirring m 1 tru>t-
- it u as judici uslv cast '
brai t 1 march w ith them to Paris and
ie P, uirb ins. This 11 rahm scheuie, <p ■•::': >n t > its wi Ida ess and prolligacv,
fa ile ! (as it was just ripe' for execution) thru ugh the indecision or
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 275
dormant ambition of Moreau, whose " half- faced fellowship" was
the pivot on which it turned. He had long been a malcontent ;
and was marked out by temperament and circumstances to figure
as a marplot. The soundness of his principles had been more
than doubted ever since the defection of Pichegru in 1797, whose
correspondence with the enemy he kept a secret for several
months, (when his silence might have been fatal to his country)
and afterwards, when the correspondence was discovered by other
means, affected to denounce and set it in the most glaring light,
thus showing an equal disregard to public or private obligation.
Nothing saved Moreau from general reprobation and contempt for
his conduct on this occasion but the natural mildness and indo-
lence of his disposition, it not being sufficiently considered that
men without bad or mischievous passions themselves are often
made the easiest and most dangerous tools of the sinister designs
of others. He never relished Buonaparte. This was natural
enough, both from the competition between them as to military
reputation and from the opposition of their characters. Moreau
had no pretensions out of the field of battle ; and he hated and
affected to condemn Buonaparte for having pushed on in a career,
for which he himself possessed neither talents, acquirements, nor
inclination. During the whole of the Consulate, his conduct was
that of the dog in the fable. His cynical affectation of simplicity
was wounded pride ; and there was too much of petty spleen and
sullen mortification in the expression of his dissent not to be at-
tributed to personal pique and disappointment rather than to
manly reason or public principle. Diogenes was said to trample
on Plato's pride with greater pride. Moreau was one of those
common-place characters who do not see beyond themselves or
bevond certain vague generalities, who have not vigor enough to
understand the departure from approved forms required on great
occasions, or magnanimity enough to applaud the success, tie
had not sufficient attachment to the rule to reconcile him to the
exception. He could sooner pardon those who had ruined the
country by technical imbecility, than those who had saved it by
boldness and decision. He could not adopt the words of the poet
in addressing one who resembled the warrior and statesman who
fir^t suiiirested them —
276 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
" Still as you rise, the state exalted too,
Finds no distemper while 'tis changed by you :"
Ho would more willingly have it run to waste by incapacity or
trampled in the dust by the opposite party, than that one of his
own should have the glory of delivering or reconstructing it. It
was not the advancement or depression of the common weal that
lie cared ahout, but his own share in the event, or whether lie oc-
cupied the top-most round in fortune's ladder. This is the case
with the Moderates and Precisians in all times and places. They
had endured Robespierre, because he had not shocked their self-
love ; and on the other hand, that he did so, was with them
Buonaparte's sin against the Holy Ghost. Moreau lent his assist-
ance to the General of Italy on the 18th of Brumaire ; but seemed
soon sick of the success of that enterprise. His spleen broke out
in spite of himself. On one occasion, Carnot had made the First
Consul a present of a pair of pistols richly mounted : Moreau en.
tered the room soon after, when Buonaparte said, ''This is well;
for here comes .Moreau. who w ill honor me by accepting them."
Moreau too]; them sullenly, and without a word of acknowledg-
ment. Napoleon asked him to the public dinners, which he de-
clined attending ; so that at last the First Consul desisted from the
attempt: "He has refused me twice,'"'' he said, "he shall not do
so a third time. He will one of these davs run his head against
the pillars of the Thuilleries ; but 1 wash my hands of him."
When the Legion of Honor was established, and it was proposed
to extend it beyond the military to men of science and merit of
every description, Moreau said with a sneer, "Then I will pro-
pose mv cook as a candidate ; for he is very skilful and a person
of great merit in the science of cookery ' — thus by his very petu-
lance and the narrowness of his views showing his unfitness to
censure others. lie was led away by his wife (a Mademoiselle
I lull in), a Creole, whom he had married at the recommendati m
of' Josephine. Her mother (Madame I [ulliii) gave herself such
airs affefw ards, that Talleyrand was once actually obliged to
interfere to prevent her taking precedence of Madame Buona-
parte ; and she used to sav that the wife of the First Consul ought
to have been a woman like her daughter and not a ganon like
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 277
Josephine. It was a misfortune to Moreau, as Buonaparte
shrewdly observed, to be governed in this manner ; for in that
case a man is neither himself nor his wife, but nothing. But she
and her mother were violent Royalists, full of intrigue, which
they carried on with that fool-hardiness, which in woman arises
from a mixture of vanity, feebleness, and a sense of impunity.
Independently of this circumstance, it may seem strange that
Moreau, who quarrelled with Buonaparte for not being sufficiently
republican, should have gone over to the Royalist side in revenge.
But the truth is, that Royalist or Republican often signifies nothing
more than the necessity of belonging to some party that has strong
prejudices and large numbers to support it; and that the mind
veers from one side to the other, according to circumstances, to
save thought and exertion.
Moreau had for some time lived retired at his estate of Gros-
Bois, which was the rendezvous of the discontented military or
of intriguing royalists. He affected to hold himself aloof from
the actual government, but did not set up any particular claims
of his own. It is however difficult for a man to remain long neu-
ter who is courted by one party, and who is averse to the other.
It was thought that he could give a turn to the sentiments of the
military at the present juncture; and it was also conceived,
that lie and Pichegru could not better patch up their old friend-
ship, which had been broken off by the untimely discovery of a
former plot, than by concerting a new treason. Lajolais, an aide-
de-camp and private secretary of Moreau at the time of Pichegru's
correspondence with Kinglin, was made the go-between. He
went to London with various overtures, where he saw the Count
I) Artois at Pichegru's lodgings. Pichegru came over some time
after. He had several meetings with Moreau by stealth and with
considerable backwardness on the part of the latter. The first
time was on the Boulevards. He went one evening in a hack-
nev-coach with Georges, accompanied by Lajolais, and Picot, a
trusty servant of Georges, to the Boulevard de la Madelaine,
where Lajolais alighted, and went to fetch General Moreau from
his house in the Rue d'Anjou close by; Pichegru and Georges
then alighted and walked about with General Moreau fa' some
time, while Pieot and Lajolais waited in the coach. As they re
2t
278 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
turned to the coach. Gcorges's servant heard Pichegru observe to
his master, speaking of Moreau — "It seems that fellow has ambi-
tion too !" This account which was at first given by Picot was
confirmed by Lajolais. Georges's servant did not know who La-
jolais or Pichegru was. It came out on the earliest examination
of Georges's associates, that a tall, respectable-looking man. whom
they did not know, bald and of the middle age, attended their
meetings, that he was received uncovered, and treated with the
greatest respect. It was conjectured that this must be one of the
French Princes; and as from the a::e it could neither be the
Count d'Artois nor the Duke of Berri, suspicion fell upon the
Duke d'Enghien, who was on the nearest frontier, and whom
other depositions stated to be busily occupied with similar trans-
actions. This led to his arrest and death. The mysterious
stranger afterwards turned out to be Pichegru, who was not
known to Georges's people, fr nn his having been landed at a
different period and having come to Paris with Lajolais alone.
In the interview with .Moreau above described, it appeared the
latter had agreed that the first thing to be done was to remove the
First Consul ; that after this something might be done with the
army : but instead of wishing to restore the Bourbons, lie talked
of bringing hack the Republican party and placing himself at the
if it. This enraged Georges, who said 'hat '■ Blue for blue*
he would prefer the one. who was already at the head of the gov-
ernment. 5 ' Georges declared that his plan was ripe, and that he
would take off the Chief Consul bv such a dav ; but he would
ordv do so as a preliminary step to the proclaiming of Louis
XYlll. Moreau upon this hroke off the conference, and told
Pichegru "he would have no more to do with that brute/" The
instinct of the savage seemed in this instance truer than the rea-
gs of the renegade. \\ hen qucsti med on the trial as to the
■s of their meeting. G rges c nstantlv answered — "I
ri n't ki w what vou mean." and Moreau denied having ever
( >< irges. It was the death of Pichegru, whose evidence
«\is wanted to prove i:\v was struck : a Bour-
bon fell ; thev found themselves vulnerable through the double
fence of pride and prejudice ; their dread of the repetition of any
similar attempt upon themselves was as strong as their disregard
of every other tie : and from that time the annual flight of these
bands of harpies, screaming and preparing to pounce upon their
destined prey, ceased. The affair proceeded (il is true) under a
cloud which has never hern rightly cleared up, as to the degree
or nature of the [hike's participate n in (leorges's conspi
(! : >r those who are involved in such sinisti r trans ieti< ns cannot
expect all the bein lit of liidit) : but the sentence rested up m a
no less ! f;v though tiiddv height of justice and puliev, and vindi-
cated itself bv the event. It was contrary to forms, I grant;
il .. . nns had been previ u>ly and iv>' >ri usly dispensed with
; . the npp ■-''■■ partv, and an appeal shami h .-sly made to mero
. fraud, and tern >r.
( ii I'Lfes was :'■■.> . . wn to be merely a principal instru-
v a' lat >■ 1. one veai 1 .! «iip]m.-i' he had s o j > • r i : . : e ; . I . • • 1 the execution in person,
and was actuated by personal prejudice against the man.
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, P1CHEGRU. ETC. 283
meat in the plot, its hand, not its head : and the question was, for
whom or in whose name he would have acted the day following
that on which he should have dispatched the First Consul. It
was naturally concluded that a more important person was con-
cealed somewhere, and waiting for the blow to be struck before
he made himself known. Search was made everywhere, but in
vain. At length, two of Georges's people being interrogated, (as
\vc have already seen,) declared that every ten or twelve days
there came to their master a gentleman whose name they did not
know, about thirty-four or thirty-five years of age, with light hair,
bald forehead, of a good height, and rather corpulent. They
stated that he was always well dressed, and concluded him to be
a person of consequence, as their master always went to the door
to receive him ; when he was in the room, every body, Messrs.
de Polignac* and Riviere as well as the others, rose and did not
sit down again till he had retired ; and whenever he came to see
Georges, they went together into a cabinet, where they remained
alone till he went away, and then Georges attended him to the
door. This afterwards turned out to be Pichegru ; but nobody
suspected him at the time. Curiosity and anxiety were raised to
the highest pitch to learn who this stranger could be whom
Georges and his accomplices treated with such respect. It was
imagined it could be no other than one of the Princes. The
search was renewed with redoubled ardor, and inquiries set on
foot whether any scouring and cleaning were going forward in
anv of the apartments with gilt ceilings in the hotels of the Marais
or the Fauxbourg St. Germain, which had long been uninhabited ;
but nothing was discovered. The description given answered
neither to the age of the Count d'Artois nor with the person of
the Duke of Bern', whom, besides, Georges's people knew. The
Duke d : Angouleme was at Mittau with the Pretender ; the Duke
of Bourbon in London. There remained only the Duke' d'En-
ghien ; and on him the bolt fell. The First Consul scarcely
* It appear* by this that the Polignacs (the confidential friends of Count
d'Artois; were in the constant habit of seeing Georges at his own house;
yet neither the Count d'Artois nor tin? English ministry (it is said) who
I: . 1 sent then over, knew any thing of the designs of this gang of cut-threats*
ind banditti !
2S4 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
recollected the name When it was mentioned ; but he was known
to be a prince of daring and resolution, not likely to be inactive
when " the chase" of kingdoms " was a-foot." He had been for
some time residing at Ettenheim, on the right bank of the Rhine,
whither since the late events numbers of emigrants had repaired
daily. It was alleged that he went every week to the theatre at
Strasburg, though he would hardly risk his life without some fur-
ther object than a play ; and it was calculated that he could just
go and come to Paris and back again to his place of retreo', in the
interval between the appearance and re-appearance of the stranger
who visited Georges. This coincidence determined the First
Consul. He immediately signed and issued the orders for the
seizure of the Duke. " This," he said, " is beyond a jest. To
come from Ettenheim to Paris to plot an assassination, and to
fancy one's-self safe because one is behind the Rhine! 1 should
be a fool to sutler it." The step was determined on in a Council
where the two other Consuls, the .Minister for Foreign Affairs,
Fouche, and the Grand-Judge were present, and where Camhd-
ceres opposed the forcible seizure in a neutral territory (that of
Baden) saying it would be better to wait till the Duke repeated
bis alleged visits to the capital ; but this objection was overruled
by Talleyrand.
A long conversation ensued, in which the First Consul collected
the voices which had supported the opinion of the Minister for
Foreign Affairs; and leaving the Council, went to his cabinet,
where he dictated the necessary orders to his secretary (Maret.)
for the apprehension of the Duke d'Fnghien. The Minister at
War in consequence ordered General Ordener to go to Xew
Brisae ; and on his arrival there, with the irrivlarmeric to be
placed at his disposal, and a detachment of cavalry belonging to
the (rarrison, to cross the Rhine at the ferry of Rinnan, to proceed
cxpi ditiouslv to the residence of the Duke d'Enghien at Etten-
heim, to take him prisoner,* and to send him to Paris with all his
papers, in hopes of finding amongst them some positive informa-
ti in concerning his c the present conspiracy. The
order (which was dated the 10th of March) was forthwith punctu-
allv executed ; and to meet the. remonstrances which the Elector
* The order included Dumourier, who was supposed to le with him.
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 233
of Baden was likely to make, it was briefly intimated to him by
Talleyrand that he must remove that band of emigrants which
had once more made its appearance on the banks of the Rhine.
The Duke d'Enghien was seized on the loth of March, 1804,
and carried the same day to the citadel of Strasburg, where he
remained till the 13th, when he set out for Paris under the escort
of the gendarmerie. There he arrived on the 20th of March
about eleven in the forenoon : his carriage, after being detained
at the barrier till four o'clock, was driven by the outer Boule-
vards to Vincennes, where the Prince was Kept prisoner. The
Commission appointed to try him met that same evening. It con-
sisted of seven Officers of regiments of the garrison of Paris, with
the commandant General Ilullin as their President, who were no
otherwise prejudiced against the prisoner than from the general
indignation which they felt in common with others against the
late conspiracy and all those who might be supposed to have in-
stigated or to be concerned in it. The Commission assembled late
in the evening 'n one of the large rooms of the inhabited part of
the castle, whic 1 was mostly in ruins, viz. the building over the
gate of entrance on the side next the park. The trial was not
secret, as has bee.i pretended ; it was open to all who could come
at that hour of the night, and Savary, who was there to take com-
mand of the troops, remarks that there were many persons
present, as he could with difficulty get through the crowd. He
had in the morning received a letter addressed by Napoleon to
Murat (the governor of Paris) who gave him the necessary order
to collect the detachments of infantry and cavalry of the garrison
at Vincennes.
At the time that Savary entered, the reading of the examina-
tion was finished : the discussion upon it had begun and was very
warm. The Duke d'Enghien had already answered so sharply
that it was clear he had no notion of the danger in which he
stood. "Sir," said the President to him, " you seem not to be
aware of your situation : or you are determined not to answer the
questions which I put to you. You shut yourself up in your high
birth, of which you take good care to remind us; you had better
adopt a diri'erent line of defence. I will not take an undue advan-
tage of your situation, but observe that I ask you positive ques-
LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
tians, and that instead of answering, you talk to me about some-
thing else. Take care, this might become serious. How could
you hope to persuade us that you were so completely ignorant as
you pretend to be of what was passing in France, when not only
the country in which you resided, but the whole world is inform-
ed of it 1 And how could you persuade me that with your birth
you were indifferent to events, all the consequences of which
were to he in your favor ? There is too much improbability in
this for me to pass it over without observation: I beg you to reflect
up >n it, t.'iat you may have recourse to other means of defence."
Tiie Duke' d ; Enghien replied in a grave tone, -Sir, I perfectly
comprehend you : it was not my intention to have remained in-
different to them. I had applied to England for an appointment
in her armies, and she had returned for answer that she had none
to give me, but that I was to remain upon the Rhine, where I
should soon have a part to act, and fur that I was waiting. I
have nothing more to tell you, Sir/'
The Duke d'Enghien was tried and found guilty of the three
several charges preferred against him; 1. of having served in
the armies of the Prince de Conde (his grandfather) and other
foreign corps against France'; 'J. of having been and being still
in the pay of England ; '3. of being privy to and waiting to avail
himself of the success of the present conspiracy against the gov-
ernment and th" life of the First Consul. The two first were
proved by his confe.-sion, and wvvc indeed notorious : of the third
and last charge, though nothing showed the contrary, there was
not suliieient proof; and indeed the chief ground on which it bad
rested fell to the ground when it was discovered soon after that
the indi ho visited ( Je< rges. and who had been imagined
to b ■ th" Prince, was Pichcgni. pelbre signing the paper con-
taiuiiig his sentence. he eann -:1\ rest immediate] v after it was
na>>.- i ; he was -':, it i:i ' . i b at \ incennes, about six
in tin: in irning if th' '.' 1 -' .
Tiicre appears :> •, something mv-t"rious, hurried,
and as it were \>\ in t ," mann' r of his death. It is not
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. JV. !
improbable that Buonaparte would have pardoned him, wl haj
received his letter in time ; or had care been taken to infon 1 him
of the exact circumstances of the case. It is certain thai the
seizure of his person had been made under a strong impression
that he was an active and prime-mover in the meetings and plans
of the Chouans for taking the First Consul's life : and had this
been proved to be the case, assuredly not twenty neutralities of
Baden nor his being twenty times a Bourbon ought to have
screened or saved him. Otherwise, a robber is safe who has
escaped into a neighbor's garden ; or if I see an assassin aiming
at me from an opposite window, I am not to fire at him lest I
should damage my neighbor's house. It is the more probable
that an active and important share in the conspiracy (supposing
the first stop to have succeeded) was allotted to him, because the
Duke of Berri was expected to land with Georges's crew just
before, and the same fate was prepared for him. But what in
the former case was a dictate of natural and universal justice
superior to forms or calculations, became without this a matter
of state-policy and hard necessity. If the Duke had merely
served in the former wars against France, that was an old story ;
or if he was about to engage in new attempts upon her soil, and
these were to be carried on by the regular and approved modes
of warfare, then there would have been no sufficient ground for
Buonaparte to go out of his way to seek satisfaction from an
enemy whom he could meet on equal and honorable terms else-
where. But the persons with whom the Duke was confessedly
still in league resorted to other means than those of open hostility,
and he had no method of defending himself against them, or of
wresting these unfair weapons from their hands, but by making
reprisals and setting a dreadful example to show that such un-
principled conduct would come home to themselves. Not to re-
taliate when he could was to encourage them and give them im-
punity in the foulest practices ; he had a hostage within his
reach and in his hands, and to make him pay the forfeit of in-
sulted honor and faith and restore in so far the balance of both,
was not a murder but a sacrifice. The Duke was of illustrious
blood, it is true, or he would not have been a Bourbon ; he was
said to be gallant and brave, but he was connected by a common
iS8 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
cause and by the ties of near relationship with those who did no*
scruple to call the bandit and the assassin to their aid : the blow
was not aimed at him, but at pretensions which assumed a haughty
paramountship to the laws both of nature and nations ; and though
the example might be a lamentable one, yet the guilt did not lie
at the door of those who exacted the penalty, but of his own party,
who had rendered it necessary by keeping no measures with those
whom they chose to regard as outlaws and rebels. Y\ hy, if the
Prince knew nothing of the secret machinations that were going
on, or was not ready to avail himself of the catastrophe, was he
found hovering on the borders, as it were dallying with tempta-
tion and danger ? It will be said that it was a natural yearning
to be near his native soil, as some have returned from banish-
ment to lay down their heads on the block from an unutterable
fondness for the place of their birth. It may be answered that
the same desire to be near his country at the risk of his life might
make him willing to return to it with the loss of personal honor
as well as of his country's independence. The question seems to
lie in a small compass and may be made clearer by being brought
back to ourselves. A man is found lurking near a house while
a gang of robbers, of whom he is one of the chiefs, enter it by
stealth and are proceeding to murder the inmates. What does
he dc there ? Is his saying that he is a gentleman by birth, bold,
or thru he disapproves entirely of what is passing, to shelter him ?
Or is his having escaped into the adjoining premises to make him
safe from pursuit I If 1 am attacked by main force, it is said I
must appeal to the law; but if the law is not at hand to protect
me, 1 take it into my own hands, and shoot a highwayman
or housebreaker. Lastly, in all cases of reprisal, it is not the
individual who is culpable or supposed to approve the original
provocation ; but he is made answerable for his party as the only
wav of putting a stop to the continuance of some flagrant injus-
tice. There was an objection t'> the mixture of violence and law
in the case, which gave a doubtful complexion to it; but the
trial was of little other use than to identify the prisoner and take
the public responsibility of the act. It was an extreme and delib-
erate exercise of a vigor beyond the law. It should be remera.
Dered also that this example was made while die examination of
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES. PICHEGRU, ETC. 2S9
the conspirators was pending, and while the chiefs of the plot.
Georges and Pichegru, were yet undiscovered. Terror and
doubt hung over the decision ; nor is it improbable that the dis-
may it excited and the energy it displayed prevented the blow
which Buonaparte directed against the Duke d'Enghien from fall
ii.g on his own head.
The death of the Duke d'Enghien caused a great sensation in
Paris and Europe. Though it might require strength of mind
and iron nerves to withstand the first shock and the long-con-
tinued reverberations of calumny and misrepresentation, yet this
was so far from being a reason against the measure, that it was
its main object to dispel that very prejudice on which this outcry
was founded, and which did not arise because the blood of a
Prince had been shed unjustly, but because the blood of a Prince
had been shed. It was necessary to " make these odds even" in
the struggle which was at issue, or to give it up altogether. It
was one among the few answers which have been given to th
idle and insolent pretension that the blood of common men
puddle, and that of nobles and princes a richer flood, which can-
not be weighed against the former any more than wine agaif-
water. Those who were principally interested in holding i^
this distinction, and had till now acted upon it to the most unlim
ited extent, finding it no longer avail them, took the hint anw
were more cautious in guarding so precious a deposit from being
let out from noble veins. The Emperor Alexander, fimont,
others, assumed a lofty tone on the occasion, which was brought
down by Talleyrand's asking him in an official note, " Whether
if a set of English assassins had been hired to effect his father's
:leath, the Russian Cabinet would not have thought itself audio*
lzed to seize and punish them though they had been lurking four
leagues from the Russian territory V This home-thrust was
never parried either by Alexander or by the standing retainers
on that side of the question. Finally, let us hear what Buona-
parte hiniself says on the point. The following appeal is frank
and cogent.
■• If I iiad not had in mv favor the laws of my country to pun-
ish the culprit, I should still have had the right of the law of na-
ture, of legitimate self-defence. The Duke and his party had
VOL. IT. 14 2.5
■i'iQ LIFE OF XAPOLEOX
constantly but one object in view, that of taking away my life : I
was assailed on all sides and at every instant ; air-guns, infernal
machines, plots, ambuscades of every kind, were resorted to for
that purpose. At last I grew weary and took an opportunity of
striking them with terror in their turn in London ; I succeeded,
and from that moment there was an end to all conspiracies. Who
can blame me for having acted so ? What ! Blows threatening
my existence are aimed at me day after day, from a distance of
one hundred and fifty leagues ; no power on earth, no tribunal
can afford me redress ; and I am not to be allowed to use the
right of nature and return war for war ! What man, unbiassed
by party-feeling, possessing the smallest share of judgment or
justice, can take upon him to condemn me ? On what side will
he not throw blame, odium, and criminal accusations ? Blood for
blood ; such is the natural, the inevitable, and infallible law of
retaliation : woe to him who provokes it ! Those who foment
civil dissensions pv excite political emotions expose themselves to
become the victims of them. It would bo a pr i if of imbecility
or madness to imagine and pretend that a whole family should
have the strange privilege to threaten my existence, day after
day, without giving me the right of retaliation; they could not
reasonably protend to bo above til'' law to destroy others, and
claim the benefit of it fa - their own preservation : the chances
must be equal. I had never personally • trended any of them ; a
great nation had chosen mo to govern them; almost all Eur pe
had sanctioned their choice : my blood, after all. was not ditch-
wat^r; it wa- time to place it on a par with theirs. And what
if I had carrii i i'i taliatii m further ? 1 uiiirhl 1 v. e d o t : the
al of their destiny, the heads of every one of them, fro in
the highest to the lowest, were more than once off-rod me ; but 1
posal w i lb i i \ • • ' . . • 1 1 1 1 u g ht it
• fir me to consent to it in the situation to which
they had reduced me ; but 1 frit so p iwerful, I thought myself so
;re, i it I hi, ild - . t base and g rat u it nis a< t
f e ■'■ a rd ice. Mv gr«'iii maxim i\> h ■ :i that in war as
Cali
a ei immal.
; in politics, every evil action, even if legal, can only be
d in case of absolute necessity; whatever goes bevond that
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES. PICHEGRIT, ETC. 2S1
" It would have been ridiculous in those who violated so openly
tne law of nations, to appeal to it themselves. The violation of
the territory of Baden, of which so much has been said, is en-
tirely foreign to the main point of the question. The law of the
inviolability of territory has not been devised for the benefit of
the guilty, but merely for the preservation of the independence
of nations and of the dignity of the sovereign. It was therefore
for the Elector of Baden, and for him alone, to complain, and lie
did not ; he yielded, no doubt, to violence and to the sense of his
political inferiority ; but even then, what has that to do with the
merits of the plots and outrages of which I had been the object,
and of which 1 had every right to be revenged?" And he con-
cluded that the real authors of the painful catastrophe, the per-
sons who alone were responsible for it, were those who had
favored and excited from abroad the plots formed against the life
of the First Consul. For, said he, either they had implicated the
unfortunate Prince in them, and had thus scaled his doom; or by
neglecting to give him information of what was goinn forward,
they had suffered him to slumber imprudently on the brink of the
precipice, and to be so near the frontiers at the moment when so
great a blow was going to be struck in the name and for the in-
terest of his family.
" To us, in the intimacy of private conversation, the Emperor
would say, that the blame in France might be ascribed to an ex-
cess of zeal in those who surrounded him, or to dark intrigues or
private views ; that ho had been precipitately urged on in the
affair; that they had as it were taken his mind unawares, and
that his measures had been hastened and their result anticipated.
I was one dav alone, said he ; I recollect it well ; I was taking
mv coffee, half-seated on the table on which. I had just dined ;
when sudden information is brought me that a new conspiracy is
discovered. I am warmly urged to put an end to these enormi-
ties ; they represent to me that it is time at hist to give a lesson
to those who have been day by day conspiring against my lite ;
that this end can only be attained by shedding the blood of one
of them ; and that the Duke d'Enghien, who might now be con-
victed of forming part of this new conspiracy, and taken in the
very act, should ! e that one. k was added thai lie had been seen
292 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
at Strasburg; that it was even believed that he had been in Paris;
and that the plan was that he should enter France by the East,
at the moment of the explosion, while the Duke de Berri was
disembarking in the West. I should tell you, observed the Em-
peror, that I did not even know precisely who the Duke d'Enghien
was (the Revolution having broken out when 1 was yet a very
young man, and I having never been at court) ; and that I was
quite in the dark as to where he was at that moment. Having
been informed on these points, I exclaimed, that if such was the
case, the Duke ought to be arrested, and that orders should be
given to that effect. Everything had been foreseen and pre-
pared : : ' : the different orders were already drawn up, nothing re-
mained but to sign them, and the fate of the young Prince was
thus decided. He had been residing for some time past, at a dis-
tance of about three leagues from the Rhine, in the States of
Baden. Had I been sooner aware of this fact, and of its impor-
tance, I should have taken umbrage at it, and should not have
suffered the Prince to remain so near the frontiers of France ; and
that circumstance, had it happened, would have saved his life.
As for the assertions that were advanced at the time, that 1 had
been strenuously opposed in this affair, and that numerous solici-
tations had been made to me, they are utterly false, and were
onlv invented to make me appear in a more odious light. The
same thing may be said of the various motives that have been
ascribed to me; these motives may have existed in the bosoms
of those who acted an inferior part on that occasion and may
have !_ r uided them in their private views ; but my conduct was
influenced only by the nature of the fact itself and the er.er<£v
of iii v disposition. I nd mbtedly, if 1 had boon iufbrmed in time
of certain circumstances respecting the opinions of the Prince
and his disposition, if. above all. 1 had seen the letter which he
to ni". and which. 'I d kn nvs fbr what reason, was onlv
delivered to me after his (bath. 1 should certainly have forgiven
him. It wns easv for us to pi reave that these expressions of
i ■■ I '. ,,o on- were dictated b\ Ins hi irt and by natural feeling,
a.d 'hat tlifv were only intended ibr us ; fbr he would have felt
h'm.-mf much humbled, had he supposed that anv bodv could
* This account differ- a '.'.::'.•■ i'miu Js'avarv'^. snven above.
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, P1CIIEGRU, ETC. 293
think for a moment that he endeavored to shift the blame upon
some other person ; or that he condescended to justify himself.
And this feeling was carried so far that when he was speaking to
strangers or dictating on that subject for the public eye, he con-
fined himself to saying that if he had seen the Prince's letter, he
should perhaps have forgiven him on account of the great polit-
ical advantages that he might have derived from so doing; and in
tracing with his own hand his last thoughts which he concluded
will he recorded in the present age and reach posterity, he still
pronounces on the subject, which he is aware will be considered
as the most delicate for his memory, that if he were again placed
in the same circumstances, he should again act in the same man-
ner ! Such was the man, such the stamp of his mind and the
turn of his disposition.
" Napoleon one day said to me, with reference to the same
subject, ' If I occasioned a general consternation by that melan-
choly event, what an universal feeling of horror would have been
produced by another spectacle with which 1 might have surprised
the world ! I have frequently been offered the
lives of those whose place I filled on the throne, at the price of
one million a head. They were seen to be my competitors, and
it was supposed that I thirsted after their blood ; but even if my
disposition had been different from what it was, had I been formed
to commit crimes, 1 should have repelled all thoughts of the crime
thus proposed to me as seeming altogether gratuitous. I was then
so powerful, so firmly seated ; and they seemed so little to be
feared ! Revert to the periods of Tilsit and Wagram ; to my
marriage with Maria Louisa; to the state and attitude of Europe !
However, in the midst of the crisis of the affairs of Georges and
Pichegru, when I was assailed by murderers, the moment was
thought favorable to tempt me, and the oiler was renewed, having
for its object the individual, whom public opinion in England as
well a*, in France pointed out. as the chief mover of all these
horrible conspiracies. 1 was at Boulogne, where the bearer of
these offers arrived : I took it into my head to ascertain personally
the truth and the nature of the proposal. 1 ordered him to bo
brought before me — ' Well, sir !' said I, when he appeared. —
' Yes, First Consul, we will give him up to you for one million.'
2;> *
294 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
— ' Sir. I will give you two millions ; but on condition that you
will bring him alive.' — 'Ah ! that I could not promise,' said the
man hesitating, and much disconcerted at the tone of my voice
and the expression of my looks at that moment. — •!)•> you then
take me fur a mere assassin ? Know, Sir, that though 1 may
think it necessary to inflict a punishment or make a great exam-
ple, I am not disposed to encourage the perfidy of an ambus
cade :' and I drove him from my presence. Indeed his mere
presence was already too great a contamination/' — Las Cases,
vol. iv., p. "2~i~.
Such were the real sentiments and line of conduct held by one
who has been accused of nourishing a thirst for the blood of this
unfortunate race, from the time that one of them refused (in
answer to a pri tended proposal to that effect) to waive their
hereditary claims upon the throne of France : — a contrary sup-
position is more likely that his life was aimed at from the moment
he had declined, in answer to a formal application to that effect,
to proclaim Louis XVIII. as king. Talleyrand is roundly ac-
cused by Buonaparte and others of having instigated the designs
again.-*; the Bourb >ns, and particularly of having had a principal
hand in the seizure of the Duke d'Enghien and the holding back
of his letter to the First Consul, from a desire to embroil him
fatally wiiii that family, whose return Talleyrand dreaded, lie
was met bv Savary the morning of the Duke's arrival earlier
than usual goin^ to inform Buonaparte of the circumstance ; and
again he stumbled up m him the same evening coming out of
Murat's door. IVwsibly i; had been discovered while the Prince
was detained in his carriage at the harrier that he was nut
Geonjcs's visitor: and the trial hail been bunded forward to pre-
vent the chance of Buonaparte's relenting, when this particular
should become known. Talleyrand is at present desirous of
having the matter hushed up. or i f ex nerating himself bv cast-
inir a d ublo limn >n thers. !1 need not be alarmed, lie
would so'. nor be forgiven for having been accessorv to the death
of twentv B airbons than for having spared the life of one id' them
when in his power. He never made royalty look little by great
actions or elevated views ; and that is the onlv crime which
■ ourts never pass over !
CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES, PICHEGRU, ETC. 294
Buonaparte has himself chalked out the best line of conduct
for him on this occasion, and which would have left no rubs or
flaws in the work. " If I had acted right," he has been heard to
say, •• I should have followed the example of Cromwell, who on the
discovery of the first attempt made to assassinate him, the plot
of which had been hatched in France, caused it to be signified to
the French king, that if the like occurred again, he, by way of
reprisal, would order assassins to be lured to murder him and a
Smart. Now I ought to have publicly signified that on the next
aitempt at assassination, I would cause the same to be made upon
the Bourbon princes, to accomplish which last indeed I had only
to say that I would not punish the projectors/' This bluff, down-
right, plain-spoken Rowland for an Oliver of old Noll's was after
all the best and safest footing to put the question upon, free from
tdl affectation of legal forms or diplomatic jinesse, which in such
circumstances give either a false bias or prove impediments in
the course of even-handed justice.
TV
296 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXXIY.
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE.
There is something in the form of monarchy that seems vastly
adapted to the constitution and weaknesses of human nature. It
as it were puts a stop by a specific barrier to the tormenting
strife and restless importunity of the passions in individuals, and
at the same time happily discharges the understanding of all the
labors and turmoil of its concern for the public good. The
crown, the emblem of precedence and sovereignty, for which all
are contending, is snatched ,-Vom the reach of all to be placed on
the brow of a baby vet unborn ; the troublesome differences of
right and wrong, which produce such infinite agitation of opinion
and convulse the bosom of states, are set at rest by the maxim
that the king can do no wrong; and a [tower whose origin is
lost in the distance of time and that acts upon no other warrant
than its own will, seems in a manner self-existent, and baffles
alike resistance or censure. Once substitute the lineal distinc-
tions of legit imacv and illegitimacy fir these of rhrht and wr ing :
and the world, instead of being turned upside down, runs on in a
smooth and invariable course. That a thinir is, is much easier
to determine than whether // is geo'/ or bad ; and the first ques-
tion is the nnlv one at stake in a m >narchy ; it is the last i
alwavs pen iiiiir in r . I it makes them - i difficult
of establishment and so S'>;ii unhinges them. Lr Hoi 7r rnit
stops all nr nit hs : and if we only admit that whatever is. is riim - .
there is iMihinir more i > be done, neither n-,,,,,1 nor harm ; tli \\\<• suff red. A i
a pre j m iice. a. custom aie things : the inquiry after
truth and ^ - ■■ 1 is •• 1 ■:;:'. ■• ' . ■. nd inlini: ■>.'' It' a ray of
lie-;:* break., in ntion it. it d - - :. ' p -m t rate the mass of ignorance
and follv : or it' liie |] m.e :' ][], rtv is km bed. it is extinguishe."?
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 297
by the sword. A hundred freemen only differ with and defeat
one another ; ninety-nine slaves follow one tyrant, and act all
together. Whatever is great and good is seated on a steep as r
cent ; the base and selfish is placed on an inclined plane below. If
in this disadvantage of the ground on which the cause of improve-
ment and emancipation rests, we can keep it suspended half-way
down or from being precipitated with scorn and loud imprecations
into the abyss, it is doing something.
Let any one look at those four men in the last chapter, the first
of them one of the earliest defenders and earliest betrayers of the
Republic, the second who had formerly denounced him now
courted by him to league with a third, an assassin, outlaw, and
desperado in the Royal cause, whose ignorance and incapacity to
conceive of any thing else made him true to his first engage-
ments, against a fourth who excited the envy and resentment of
the two first for having outstripped them in the career of popu-
larity and power, and was obnoxious to the hatred and vengeance
of the third for being a main obstacle to the return of the Bour-
bons. And then I would ask, in this state of things, when rea-
son and patriotism was divided against itself and torn in a thou-
sand pieces, when the blindfold and furious bigot was alone faith-
ful, and when the great principle of the Revolution found its
firmest support and most unflinching ally in personal aggrandize-
ment and soaring ambition, that preferred grasping at the supreme
authority itself sooner than let it revert into the old, impure chan-
nels : I would ask in this state of things what better could be hoped
bv the most sanguine than to gain time, to hurl back and set at
defiance to the uttermost that abomination of abominations, the
evils of an endless struggle with which had almost made the
tiling itself seem endurable, and to make a drawn battle for the
present, a compromise between the establishment of a great prin-
ciple in theory and the imperfect adherence to it in practice ?
Those who are most sincerely and unalterably attached to the
rule will not be most apt to take umbrage at the departure from
it, for still it was in the nature of an exception, and not the ad-
mission of the opposite doctrine. " Entire affection scorneth
nicer hands." Mr. Landor, whom I conceive to be capable of all
.he fervor and steadiness of the love of liberty and hatred of
14*
298 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
tyranny, says, that "the two worst crimes of the Revolution were
the death of Malesherbes and the coronation of Buonaparte." 1
do not see that point with his eyes. I have nowhere in any thing
1 may have written declared myself to be a Republican ; nor
should I think it worth while to be a martyr and a confessor to
any form or mode of government. But what I have staked
Health and wealth, name and fame upon, and am ready to do so
again ami to the last gasp, is this, that there is a power in the
people to change its government and its governors. That is, 1
am a Revolutionist : for otherwise, I must allow that mankind
are but a herd of slaves, the property of thrones, that no tyranny
or insult can lawfully goad them to a resistance to a particular fa-
mily, or impair in any possible degree the sacred and inalienable
right of insolent, unmitigated control over them : — and it is not in
the p iwcr of mortal man to bring me to that acknowledgment on
tiie part of myself and my fellows. This is the only remedy
mankind have against oppression : it' tins is not enough, vet I am
contented with it. While this riirht remains in force, not written
indeed in the preambles of acts of parliament but engraved in a
nations history, pYoved in the heraldry of its kings, a country
may call itself free. The French changed tr nn a m marchv to a
republic, and from a republic to the empire, but they changed in
case ; nor was tin' breach made in tin' doctrine of passive
hereditary right any m ire h< ah d or soldered up by
this means, than it' at the time of the ! ■ of Louis X\ I.
i hey had s"tit to a iv-lv German Fleet >r or to the Princi f
Orange t i succod him with the sain ■ title and with certain con-
is of thi ir own. It' the new- dvnastv ever be cam" a race of
r Ivi - a - i ':. jure and m ilest
th p ■ ijde. tiiey would have the ;. ._ . < c\ . pie M , ritv tc
e\pel and overturn them. Trie cdiati'_ r '' ot' 1 tic form of goveru-
m n! niinht ir' considered as an advance towards an ace mnnoda-
;' n w ith tiie -Id ii ri.-l Tici - : but thev did n t n ci ive it so
■ ': at first at la>t. Un the e >ntr;i ■-, . if the r< inn of t ror
• \ it ! th'dr f -ai's an ".the e>; it f the L
under lin-napai't" s-emeil even it irreati-r a:iV nit and eneroaeh-
ment on tii"ir [iride and pri * i!e<_r,.s : and so far from b'dng an
Btoneini ul : r tiie ravage- i : .1 ic binism, was the seal and con
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 5>99
summation of them. The fellowship between him and the Allies
was that between the panther and the wolf. If they did not con-
sider him as the legitimate successor of Louis XVI. and as
having stopped up the volcano of the French Revolution, neither
can I : if they still looked upon him as one of the people raised
by their choice or who had usurped that power, so must I ; for it
was only by their triumph over him that the image of the " di-
vine and human majesty" joined together and hallowed by preju-
dice and superstition could be restored, of which no efforts of his
could produce more than a splendid and mortifying counterfeit — •
if mortifying to republican stoicism, how much more so to royal
fortitude ! The balance of the account, if not quite on our side,
was not quite and forever closed against us.
The repeated attempts made against the life of the First Consul
gave a handle for following up the design which had been for
some time agitated of raising him to the imperial throne and mak-
ing the dignity hereditary in his family. Not that indeed this
would secure him from personal danger, though it is true that
" there's a divinity doth hedge a king ;" but it lessened the
temptation to the enterprise and allayed a part of the public dis-
quietude by providing a successor. All or the greater part were
satisfied (either from reason, indolence, or the fear of worse) with
what had been gained by the Revolution ; and did not wish to
see it launch out again from the port in which it had taken shel-
ter to seek the perils of new storms and quicksands. If prudence
had some share in this measure, there can be little doubt that
vanity and cowardice had theirs also — or that there was a lurk-
ing desire to conform to the Gothic dialect of civilized Europe in
forms of speech and titles, and to adorn the steel arm of the Re-
public with embroidered drapery and gold-tissue. The imitation,
though probably not without its effect, v would look more like a
burlesque to those whom it was intended to please, and could
hardly Hatter the just pride of those by whom it was undertaken.
The old Republican party made some stand : the Emigrants
showed great zeal for it, partly real, partly affected. Fouche
canvassed the Senate and the men of the Revolution, and was
* For instance, would the Emperor of Austria have married his daughter
to Buonaparte if he had been only First Consul 1
300 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
soon placed in consequence at the head of the police, which was
restored, as it was thought that fresh intrigues might break out on
the occasion. The army gave the first impulse, as was but natu-
ral ; to them the change of style from Imperator to Emperor was
but slight. All ranks and classes followed when the example
was once set : the most obscure hamlets joined in the addresses ;
the First Consul received waggon-loads of them. A register for
the reception of votes for or against the question was opened in
every parish in France ; from Antwerp to Perpignan. from Brest
to Mount Cenis. The proces-verbal of all these votes was laid
up in the archives of the Senate, who went in a body from Paris
to St. Cloud to present it to the First Consul. The Second Con-
sul Cambacercs read a speech, concluding with a summary of the
number of votes ; whereupon he in aloud voice proclaimed Na-
poleon Buonaparte Emperor of the French. The senators, placed
in a line facing him, vied with each other in repeating Vive
F Empcreur .' and returned with all the outward signs of joy to
Paris, where people were already writing epitaphs on the Repub-
lic* Happy thev whom epitaphs on the dead console for the loss
of them ! Tiiis was the time, if ever, when they ought to have
opposed him. and prescribed limits to his power and ambition, and
not when he returned weather-beaten and winter-flawed from
Russia. But it was more in character for these persons to cringe
when spirit was wanted, and to show it wh< n it was fatal to him
and 1 1 themselves.
Thus th''ti the First Consul became Emperor by a majority of
two milli us some hundred thousand votes to a few hundreds.
The uumher of \ ,• e.s is complained of by some persons as too
small. Probably tln'V mav thi ' I it' the same number had
been against the measure instead of being fjr it, this would have
con fern d a right as being in opp isition to and in e inti mpt of the
ch 'ice of the pe iple. \V lial other < . ■• that « uld
have got a hundred ? What other eompi tit >v c uld in li d have
come forward on the score of merit ! Drtur optima. Birth
was not : but birth supers' ■"!• s both choice and merit. The day
alter the mamniratr n. Bu maparte received the constituted bodies,
* M. Camb.io n- was said to be the first ■■ pn cira (Sir lea bottts de Buo
rutpart'. )" — grease i his hoots ur Sire; him.
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 301
the learned corporations, &c. The only strife was who should
bow the knee the lowest to the new-risen sun. The troops
while taking the oath rent the air with shouts of enthusiasm.
The succeeding 'lavs witnessed the nomination of the new dicni-
taries, marshals, and all the usual appendages of a throne, as well
with reference to the military appointments as to the high offices
of the crown. On the 14th of July the first distribution of the
cross's of the Legion of Honor took place; and Napoleon set out
for Boulogne to review the troops stationed in the neighborhood
and distribute the decorations of the Legion of Honor among them,
which thenceforth were substituted for weapons of honor, which
had been previously awarded ever since the first war in Italy.
The Emperor arrogated nothing to himself in consequence of
the change in his situation. He had assumed the mock-majesty
of kings, and had taken his station among the lords of the earth ;
but he was still himself, and his throne still stood afar off in the
field of battle. He appeared little more conscious of his regal style
and title, than if he had put on a masquerade-dress the evening
before, of which if he was not ashamed (as it was a thing of cus-
tom) he had no reason to be proud ; and he applied himself to his
different avocations with the same zeal and activity as if nothing
extraordinary had happened. He thought much less, it was evi-
dent, of all these now honors than of the prosecution of his opera-
tions at Boulogne, on which he labored incessantly. The remote-
ness or doubtfulness of success did not relax his efforts ; having
once determined on the attempt, all the intermediate exertions be-
tween the will and its accomplishment with him went for nothing,
anv more than so much holiday recreation. Something more of
the vis incrlicB would have allayed this inordinate importunity of
voluntarv power, and led to greater security and repose.
From Boulogne the Emperor went a second time to Belgium,
where the' Empress joined him; they occupied the palace of
Lacken near Brussels, which had formerly belonged t > the Arch-
duke Charles. He this time extended his journey to the Rhine:
and from Mentz h" di.~pateh.ed general CaiFarelli to Km.'." to ar-
range the visit of the Pone to Paris. It was from Men!/, likewise
he sent orders for the departure of lie- Toulon and Roeheiort
B'piadrons as a first step towards carrying into effect the invasion
302 LIFE O.F NAPOLEON.
of England : but owing to unforeseen circumstances, it was win-
tcr before they sailed.
Buonaparte returned from this tour at the end of October; nis
attention was engaged during the month of November with the
preparations for the Coronation, the Pope having set out from
Rome for the purpose of performing the ceremony. The court
was ordered to Fontainebleau to receive him. the palace there
which had fallen into ruins having been repaired and newly fitted
up by Napoleon. He went to meet the Pope at Nemours; ami
to avoid formality, the pretext of a hunting-party was made use of,
the Emperor coining on horseback and in a hunting-dress, with
his retinue, to the top of the hill, where the meeting took place.
The Pope's carriage drawing up. he got out at the left door in his
white costume : the ground was dirty, and lie did not like to tread
upon it with his white silk shoes, but he was at last obliged to do
so. Napoleon alighted from his horse to receive him. The v
embraced. The emperor's carriage had been driven up and ad-
vanced a few paces, as if by accident; but men were posted to
hold the two doors open, and at the moment of getting in, the
Emperor took the right door, and an officer of the court handed
the Pope to the left, so that they entered the carriage by the two
doors at the same moment. The Emperor naturally seated him-
self on the right ; and this first step decided with it i
upon the etiquette to be observed during the whole time of the
Pope's stay in Paris. This interview and Buonaparte's behavi r
was the very highest act and acme of audacity. It is comparable
to nothing but the meeting of Priam and Achilles: or a joining
of hand- between the youth and the old age of the world. If
Pope Pius \ II. represented the decay of ancient superstiti >n,
II , lapartr represented the high and palmy state of modern opin-
ion ; vet not insulting over but propping the fall of the first.
There were «■ mci ~- : ais on b ith sides, from the oldest p aver on
earth To the newest, which in its turn asserted precedence for the
res'. Iii p iut f birth there was no dhTbronco. for theocracy
[is to the ( ].-.-_r< of earth, a- dem >cracv springs (Van it: but
the p, ,>>,. I, ,u ,.,] his head f .' - f the 1 .niresf.i stablished
ami 'itv in Christendom. Ibi naparte had himself raised the plat-
form af personal elevation im which he stood *" meet him. To
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 303
us the condescension may seem all on one side, the presumption
on the other ; but history is a long and gradual ascent, where
great actions and characters in time leave borrowed pomp behind
and at an immeasurable distance below them ! — After resting at
Fontainebleau, the Emperor returned to Paris ; the Pope, who
set out first and was received with sovereign honors on the road,
was escorted to the Thuilleries and was treated the whole time of
his residence there as if at home. The novelty of his situation
and appearance at Paris excited general interest and curiosity;
and his deportment, besides its flowing from the natural mildness
of his character, was marked by that fine tact and sense of pro-
priety which the air of the ancient mistress of the world is known
to inspire. Manners have there half maintained the empire which
opinion had lost. The Pope was flattered by his reception and
the sentiments of respect and good-will his presence seemed eve-
rywhere to create, and gave very gracious audiences to the reli-
gious corporations which were presented to him, and which were
at this time but few in number. To meet this imposing display
of pomp and ceremony, Buonaparte was in a manner obliged to
oppose a host of ecclesiastics, of old and new nobility, and to draw
the lines of form and etiquette closer round him, so as to make
the access of old friends and opinions less easy. This effect of
the new forms and ceremonies was at least complained of; but if
they thus early kept out his friends, they did not in' the end
keep out his enemies.
The day fixed for the Coronation arrived. It was the 2d of
December, 1804. Notwithstanding the unfavorableness of the
weather, the assemblage of the deputations from all the Depart-
ments, from all the chief towns, and of all the regiments of the
armv, joined to all the public functionaries of France, to all the
generals, and to the whole population of the capital, presented a
fine and imposing sight. The interior of the church of Xetre-
Dame had been magnificently embellished ; galleries and pews
erected for the occasion were thronged with a prodigious concourse
of spectators. The imperial throne was placed at one end of the
nave, on a very elevated platform: that of the Pope was in the
choir, beside the high-altar. I am not averse to be thus particu-
\ar in preserving " the memory of what has been, and never more
304 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
will be." If these were false triumphs and false pomps of that
cause which was ever next my heart (since a little child I knelt
and lifted up my hands in prayer for it) thev were better than the
total ruin and grinning infamy that afterwards befel it. The
Pope (who was made the antic of the day) set out from the Thuil-
laries, preceded by his chamberlain on an ass (which there was
some difficulty in procuring at the moment.) and who kept his
countenance with an admirable gravity through the crowds of
observers that lined the streets. The Pope arriving at the archi-
episcopal palace, repaired to the choir of the cathedral by a pri-
vate entrance.
The Emperor set out with the Empress by the Carrousel. In
getting into the carriage, which was open all round and without
panels, they at first seated themselves with their backs to the
horses — a mistake which though instantly rectified, was remarked
as ominous ; and it had all the ominousness which hangs ovel
new power or custom. The procession passed along the Hue St.
Ilonore to that of the Lombards, then to the Pont au Change, the
Palace of Justice, the court of Notrc-Dame, and the entrance to
the archiepiscopal palace. Here rooms were prepared for tho
whole of the attendants, some of whom appeared dressed in their
civil costumes, others in full uniform. On the outside of the
church had been erected a long wooden gallery from the arch-
bishop's palace to the entrance of the church. By this gallery
came the Kmperor's retinue, which presented a truly magnificent
sight. They had taunted us with our simplicity and homeliness :
well then ! here was the answer to it. 'Hit; procession was led
by the already numerous body of courtiers; next came the
marshals of the Empire, wearing their badges of honor ; then the
dignitaries and high officers of the crown; and lastly, the Empe-
ror, in a gorgeous slate-dress. At the moment of his entering tho
cathedral, there was a simultaneous shout, which resembled one
vast explosion of Vive i ''' J'lmpereur. The immense quantity of
figures to be seen on each side of so vast an edifice formed a
tapestrv of the most striking kind. The- procession passed along
the middle of the nave, and arrived at the choir facing the high-
altar. This part of the spectacle was not the least imposing: the
galleries round the choir were filled with the handsomest women
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 305
which France could boast, and most of whom surpassed in the
lustre of their beauty that of the rich jewels with which they
were adorned.
His Holiness then went to meet the Emperor at a desk, which
had been placed in the middle of the choir ; there was another on
one side for the Empress. After saying a short prayer there,
they returned, and seated themselves on the throne at the end of
the church lacing the choir: there they heard mass, which was
said by the Pope. 'I hey went to make the offering, and came
back ; they then descended from the platform of the throne, and
walked in procession to receive the holy unction. The Emperor
and Empress, on reaching the choir, replaced themselves at their
desks, where the Pope performed the ceremony. He presented
the crown to the Emperor, who received it, put it himself upon
his own head, took it off, placed it on that of the Empress, re-
moved it again, and laid it on the cushion where it was at first.
A smaller crown was immediately put upon the head of the Em-
press ; who being surrounded by her ladies, every thing was done
so quickly that nobody was aware of the substitution that had
taken place. The procession moved back to the platform. There
the Emperor heard TeDeuin: the Pope himself went thither at
the conclusion of the service, as if to say, lie, fiu'ssa est! The
Testament was presented to the Emperor, who took off his glove,
and pronounced the oath with his hand upon the sacred book.
He went back to the episcopal palace the same way that he had
come, and entered his carriage. The ceremony was long; the
day cold and wet; the Emperor seemed impatient and uneasy a
great part of the time ; and it was dusk before the cavalcade
reached the Thuilleries, whither it returned by the Rue St. Mar-
tin, the Boulevards, the Place de la Concorde and the Pont-Tour-
nant. The distribution of the eagles took place some days after-
wards. Though the weather was still unfavorable, the throng
was prodigious, and the enthusiasm at its height ; the citizens as
well as the soldiers burst into long and repeated acclamations, as
those warlike bands received from the hands of their renowned
l"'\d''r (not less a soldier for being a king) the pledges of many a
well-fought field.
The Cisalpine Republic at the same time underwent a change
■S06 LIFE OE XAPOLEOX.
which was easily managed. The Emperor was surrounded by
men, who spared him the trouble of expressing the same wish
twice, though many of them afterwards pretended that they had
sturdily disputed every word and syllable of it, opposing a shadow
of resistance to fallen power instead of the substance to the abuse
of it ; and finding no medium between factious divisions and ser-
vile adulation. Lombardy was erected into a kingdom, and the
Emperor put the Iron Crown of Charlemagne upon his head.
Those who look upon this as a violent usurpation seem wilfully
to ibrget all the intermediate steps which led to it, as though it
were an effect without a cause. A crown resting on merit alone
appears ridiculous, because there is no necessary connection be-
tween the two things ; a crown worn without any merit in the
wearer seems natural and in order, because no reason is even
pretended to be assigned for it. If such things are to be at all,
who so worthy of the distinction as those who achieve them as
tokens of what they have done and are to do — if they are not to
be at all, I am still better satisfied. The Pope, who had done all
that was required of him, expected something in return: he
asked for the restoration of Avignon in France, of Bologna and
Fcrrara in Italy, to the Holy See. The Emperor turned a deaf
ear; and on the Pope's insisting, gave a flat refusal. Tins was
the beginning of a groat deal of petty disagreement and annoy-
ance that was creditable to neither party. His Holiness went
away not in the best humor, though Buonaparte made him
magnificent presents of every thing but what ho wanted. They
bid farewell to each other, the Ihnpei'or leaving the Pope at Paris
to set out f-w particulars of Napoleon's private
habits and m ide of lifi at this period of hi.- history.
Every morning at nine o'el >ck regularly (when he was at home)
the Emperor came nut of the interior of his apartments, dressed
fhr the day. The officers of the household were the first ad-
mitted. Napoleon gave them his orders for the daw Imme-
diately after, the grand rntrirs were introduced, consisting of per-
sons of the highest rank, who were entitled to this privilege
either bv their functions or bv special favor. This privilege was
at that time considered a- the highest possible distinction. Na-
poleon addressed each person in turn, and listened good-naturedlv
hat was said to him. The round being made, he bowed
and every one withdrew. S inn timi s th> se who had anv particu-
lar request to make remained al me with him a few moments after
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 309
the others. At half an hour after nine the breakfast was served.
The prefect of the palace* went to apprise him of it and to go be-
fore him into the saloon where he was to breakfast, and there
waited on him alone, assisted by the first maiire-d/ hotel, who per-
formed all the details of the duty. Napoleon breakfasted on a
small mahogany stand covered with a napkin. The prefect of
the palace was in attendance, his hat under his arm, standing
near the little table. Temperate as ever man was, the breakfast
of the Emperor often lasted not more than eight or ten minutes.
But when he felt an inclination to close the doors, as he said
sometimes laughing, the breakfast lasted long enough, and then
nothing could surpass the easy gaiety and grace of his conversa-
tion. His expressions were rapid, pointed, and picturesque.
Those who had the good fortune to be about his person found
these the most agreeable hours of their lives. He often received
during breakfast-time a few individuals in whose society he had
the greatest pleasure, among whom might be mentioned particu-
larly the names of Monge, Bertholet, Costaz, Uenon, Corvisart his
physician, and the celebrated David, Gerard, Isabey, Talma, and
others. The satisfaction of all parties was mutual and complete.
Endowed with abundant resources, a superior understanding and
extraordinary quickness, it was in moments of the most un-
guarded confidence and intimacy that Napoleon, by the common
consent of all who knew him, shone the most.
Having returned to his cabinet, Napoleon applied himself to
business, and received the Ministers and Directors-General, who
atti nded with their port-folios ; these different occupations lasted
till six in the evening, and were never broken in upon, except on
the days of the Councils of the Ministers or the Councils of Slate.
The dinner was regularly served up at six o'clock. At the
Thuilleries or at St. Cloud, their Majesties dined alone, except
on Sundays, when the whole of the Imperial family were admitted
to the banquet : the Emperor, the Empress, and the Emperor's
mother were seated in elbow-chairs, the rest had common chairs.
The dinner consisted but of one course, prolonged bv the dessert;
the simplest dishes were those which Napoleon preferred. The
only wine he drank was Chambertin, and he seldom drank it
* At that time M. de Bausset. who jrives the above account
310 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
pure. The attendants were the pages, the mailres-d'hdlel, and
other servants out of livery. The dinner lasted ordinarily from
a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes. Buonaparte never
tasted spirits or liqueurs. lie usually took two eups of coffee
pure, one in "the morning after breakfast, and the other directly
after dinner. All that has been said of his abuse of this beverage
was at that time false and ridiculous.
Having gone back to the drawing-room, a page presented to
the Emperor a silver-gilt waiter on which were a cup and a
sugar-basin. The principal servant pound out the coffee ; the
Empress then took the cup from the Emperor; the page and the
head-servant withdrew, the prefect of the palace still remaining
till the Empress had poured the coffee into the saucer and handed
it to Napoleon. It happened so often that this prince forgot to
take it at the proper time, that the Empress Josephine and after
her the Empress Maria-Louisa had hit upon so complaisant a
mode of remedying this slight inconvenience. Shortly after, the
Emperor returned into his cabinet to resume his labors, for rarely
(as he observed) he put riff till to-morrow what he could do to-dau.
The' Empress descended to her apartments by a private stair,
which had a communicati >n with b ith suites of rooms : on enter-
ing the drawing-room, she there found the ladies of honor in
attendance, some other privileged ladies, and the officers of her
house-hold : card-tables were set out for firm's sake and to break
the constraint of a circle. Napoleon sometimes came there
through the Empress's apartments, and talked with as much
simplicity as freedom with the ladies of the court or the rest of
the company. Rut in general he stayed only o sh rt time. The
odicrs on duty prepared to attend the evening leve>\ and to re-
ceive their orders for the next day. Such was the life habitually
1" I bv the Emper n- a" the s. Its uniformity was
interrupted only wh"ii there was a concert, a play, or by the
chase. During his >tay at St. Cloud, the manner of living was
t!i" same, with the e.v : • o | the time employed, in tine
r. in rides in I ;b rh !. The Council of .Minis-
tei's was held every \\ cdne-day : the members were always in-
nner. \ ' I :.' neb'eau, llamb uillet, or Com-
• '■ r r ' Nap ile n wi nt l ■ hunt, there was always a tent
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 311
set up in the forest for breakfast, to which all the party was
invited: the ladies followed the chase in their carriages. It was
usual for eight or ten persons to be asked to dine. Napoleon's
mode of life when he was with the army or on a journey of
course varied according to the nature of the circumstances. The
whole economy of the household was regulated with the exactest
care by the Grand-Marshal Duroc (Duke of Frioul) under the
superintendance of the Emperor himself. Nevertheless, we are
not to suppose that there was an appearance of any thing mean
or niggardly. Napoleon's own tastes were simple and modest ;
but he liked to see display and magnificence around him. His
court was always brilliant and in the best taste. There was
order and not waste.
It sometimes happened that Napoleon pre-occupied with affairs
of state, rose from breakfast or dinner for days together without a
word having been said. But such occurrences, it is to be noted,
were rare ; and even when his brow was serious and his lips
silent, he still showed himself just, polite, and kind. Few persons
(according to the best testimony) have in private possessed more
equability of temper, and greater gentleness of manners. In po-
litical discussions indeed he did not willingly give ground; but
even when his features were kindled into warmth and his expres-
sions betraved anger, he had often too much reason for it ; and
his indignation was more than once roused by ingratitude, which
sprang up in the very height of his prosperity. Two instances
may be given here to explain the difference of the tone of senti-
ment and etiquette in the new and the old court. M. Victor deCar-
aman (since the return of the Bourbons Ambassador to the Court
of Vienna) had been arrested and put in prison in the time of the
Consulate. His wife, encouraged by the Empress Josephine,
whose extreme goodness was known to all France, had the bold-
ness to make her way through the guard and mount on the steps
of Napoleon's carriage to make an affecting appeal in behalf of
her husband. She was listened to with attention and without any
marks of impatience ; but she did not obtain a favorable answer.
In her hurry and distress, Madame de Caraman forgot her work-
bag in the carriage, which was sent to her the next morning.
On seeing it, she expected to find her husband's pardon in the
312 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
work-bag. It is certain that in the days of romantic chivalry, or
in a case less grave, this trait of gallantry might have suggested
itself. Josephine declared that the Emperor was at first tempted
to do so ; but that he fancied the oversight had been voluntary
and premeditated, and then he altered his mind, the statesman
getting the better of the courtier. Some months afterwards, M.
de Caraman was sent to reside at Ivrea in Piedmont, under the eye
of the police. Another illustration to the purpose is the circum-
stance that at a later period it was debated whether the Emperor
should not dine in public as the Princes of the House of Bour-
bon had formerly done ; but this was negatived on the ground
that the mere act of eating or drinking was on" that concerned
t;ii- individual alone ; and though it was proper and of a piece to
make a state ceremony of this with regard to the former family,
as all that they did was for their own sakrs. and supposed by that
alone to be worthy of the homage and wonder of the people, vet
in the new dynasty and upon modern principles it was a paralo-
gism and an impertinence to obtrude the Imperial family upon
general notice, except as servants of the public, and in cases
where the latter were primarily and ostensibly interested. This
distinction, which was not merely in words, but acted upon at
the time,* is worth volumes as a comment on the character and
use> of the two governments.
About the period at which we have arrived, the Abbe de Pradt,
Cardinal Maury, the old academician La Ilarpe, and Chateau-
briand,, became a sort of app' ndages to the Imperial Court. Buo-
naparte's youngest brother, Jerome, was out of favor with him
for having married an Ann rican ladv, whom he n fusi d t !i-
vorce in order to wed a continental princess. !!•■ afterwarls
yielded to his brother's solicitations. Madame de Staol (who had
banished to ( emeva on account of her eloquence and in-
t:.'- 1 : s) had just udven new unionise by her declamations a
the (.'at i: 'lie religion, in her i I) ■ , and v
all ved to come to Pa ris to enj \ ' . succ - - of it. Bu uapar"
is aceusf 'I of havinir intermeddled too much and too harshly with
literature; hut not till it ha 1 (:.-' o. Idled with him. lie was
fond of the theatre and ofo-n r:r:::o:.-« : the new pieces that came
* In the •:. .. ' \1 ria Louisa.
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EMPIRE. 313
out (some of them of a political tendency) with the spirit of a
statesman and the aeuteness of a philosopher. Some persons
have complained that he criticised the plan and style of a tragedy
with the same confidence as if it had been the order of a battle.
Surely, he who had overcome and seemingly reconciled all par-
ties (besides being a mere soldier) must be allowed to have pos-
sessed some knowledge of mankind, as he who had risen to the
summit of power could not be altogether a stranger to aspiring
and lofty sentiments. The Cid of modern Europe had earned a
right to admire Corneille.
vol. II. 15 27
Ill LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XXXV
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ.
Towards the end of 1804 a memorial by one of the Austrian
Ministers roused Mr. Pitt from the state of inaction, in which ho
had so long remained supine but writhing under the sense of dis-
appointment, to dream once more of Coalitions winch had hitherto
been and were still to be formed during his lifetime only to be
broken in pieces again. Marengo had staggered, Austerlitz gave
the finishing blow to the schemes of pride and arrogance which
filled up the whole measure of his perverted capacity. In the
month of January, 1805, he gave orders to the English legation
to feel the pulse of the Cabinet of St. Petersburg; and on the
11th of April following, the treaty of concert was signed between
England, Austria, and Russia, the two latter powers engaging to
bring large armies into the field, while England was to furnish
proportionable subsidies, in prosecution of the old nefarious object.
Austria, being the nearest was in the field first, and commenced
operations according to the legitimate privilege by an attack on
Bavaria, a neutral power, in order to force her into the Coalition ;
but the tide of war soon turned, and Bavaria became the ally of
France. In the June of the same year, Baron Vincent, the Aus-
trian (ieneral, had gone out of his way to visit Napoleon at Ve-
rona, and had paid him sovereign honors by a salute of artillery.
_\o declaration of war was issued, and Count Cobentzel, the Aus-
trian Plenipotentiary, still remained at Paris, so that every tiling
( incurred to lull Buonaparte into a false security ; but a spark
was sufficient to rouse him into action, and the thunderbolt fell on
t'iose who thought to take him by surprise. lie was so little ap-
prehensive on the subject at first, that he would not for some time
rr (111 the rumors of a rupture with Austria, and scut Savary to
b'rankfort-on-the-Maine to learn the truth of the matter, and to
TATTLE OF AUST-ERLITZ. 315
buy the best maps of the German Empire. Certain news, how-
ever, soon came of the advance of General Mack upon Munich,
and of the arrival of the Russians in the Austrian territory. The
Emperor now lost no time in raising the camp at Boulogne and in
pushing the troops forward by the shortest routes to the banks of
the Rhine, so that they might arrive there by the time that the
Austrian army reached the Danube.
General Marmont received orders to make the best of his way
from Holland. Bernadotte, who was in Hanover, had to cross
part of the territory of Prussia, with whom France was at peace,
and the sovereigns of the two countries had only lately exchanged
honorary distinctions. At the same time, therefore, that the Em-
peror sent Bernadotte orders to march, he dispatched the Grand-
Marshal Duroc to Berlin to apprise the king of Prussia of the
critical situation in which he was placed by an attack without
any previous declaration of war, to express his extreme regret at
being obliged on the sudden to march his troops over certain por-
tions of the Prussian dominions, and to excuse himself on the
ground of absolute necessity alone. Duroc's reception was not
so cordial as it had been on a former occasion. The King said
little, digested the affront inwardly as well as he could ; but long
after his chagrin broke out on more than one occasion, when he
could only resort to complaints, saying to Xapoleon — " But why
did you violate my neutrality of Anspach and Bareuth ?" Baron
llardenbcrg spoke out more plainly in an official note on the sub-
ject, and there is little doubt that a war would have been the re-
sult, had it not been for the battle of Austerlitz. Prussia had
just about the same time refused a passage through Polish Prus-
sia to the Russian army, which was however consented to in con-
sequence of the dissatisfaction of the court with Bernadotte's
movement ; and the Emperor Alexander soon after came to Ber-
lin, under pretence of a visit to his sister, the hereditary Princess
of Saxe-Weimar, but in truth to draw over Prussia to the Coali-
tion.
Napoleon ha<\ already made all his calculations. The maps
of England had disappeared, and given place to those of Germany,
which was more debateable ground. Not sorry to exchange his
bridge of boats for firm land, he made those about him follow the
316 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
intended march of the troops, and explained his own designs in
these words: " if the enemy."' he said, "comes to meet me, I
will destroy him before he has regained the Danube: if lie waits
lor me, I will surprise him between Augsburg and Ulm." Ami
so it happened. lie issued his last orders, and set out for Paris;
where having arrived, he repaired to the Senate, informed them
of the circumstances which led him to give a new destination to
the troops and to call for fresh supplies, and proceeded next day
to Strasburg. lie reached that city while the French army was
passing the Rhine at Kehl, Lauterburg, Spires, and Manheim.
He inspected the establishments of the fortress, and gave orders
for the reconstruction of the fort of Kehl. He had sent propo.
sals to the Prince of Baden and to the Landgrave of Ilesse-
Darmstadt to join him: the first did so a little before the battle of
Austerlitz; the other thought it best to wait till it was over. On
the approach of the different troops to the foot of the mountains
situated in the country of YVurtemberg, the Duke had drawn up
his little army near Ludwijjsburg, his summer-residence, and was
preparing to make a formal resistance, when the Emperor's aide-
de-camp appeared to request permission to pass. This mark of
courtesy satisfied him : and the Emperor met a magnificent re-
ception from the court of Wurtembeig. sleeping two nights at
the palace of Ludwigsburg. It was on this occasion the Princess-
Roval of England (who had been married to the Duke of Wur-
temberg) sent home word to express her surprise at finding Buo-
naparte so polite and agreeable a person and not at all the hideous
"lire he h;id been held up in this country, lest John Bull
should not he sufficiently terrified to answer the purposes of those
who wanted to goad him to madness. I>!irin:_ r his stav here, hos-
tilities commenced on the road from Stutgard to I lm between
Martial Xey's corps and the Austrian*; commanded bv the Arch-
duke Ferdinand and Field-Marshal Mack. Buonaparte directed
Marshal Xey to debouch by the high Stiitgard road, making the
enemy believe that the whole army were following him, when ho
suddenly wheeled round with the rapidity of lightning to Xordlin-
gen. where shortly after arrived the c >rps of Davoust from Man-
heim by the valley of the Xecker. that of Soult from Spires bv
Heilbron, and lastly, that of Marshal Lannes who reached Dona-
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 317
wort just in time to prevent an Austrian battalion, who had ap-
peared on the right bank of the Danube, from destroying the
bridge, and drove them back to the other side of the river.
The Emperor then caused the country to be scoured as far as
the Lech; and placed nimself in communication with General
Marmont, who had passed the Danube at Neuburg, and also with
the Bavarian army which was leaving Ingolstadt to join him.
He ordered Augsburg to be occupied, which is forty miles in the
rear of Ulm, where the Austrian head-quarters were ; and sent
Soult forward to blockade Memmingen, a small town to the south
of Ulm, which was the only line of retreat the enemy had left,
and into which they had thrown six thousand men. He then
went and fixed his head-quarters at Augsburg to observe what
course the Austrian army was about to take, round whom he had
drawn a circle by the movement he had made in advance with
his different corps, as completely as with the foot of a pair of
compasses. From Augsburg lie proceeded to Zumnershausen,
and caused Ulm to be hemmed in on all sides. It was difficult to
understand why the Austrian generals had remained here so long
(as if spell-bound) in the midst of all these complicated prepara-
tions to surround them, neither attempting to escape nor offering
battle to the French. At length, as the Emperor approached by
Guntzburg within sight of Ulm, he learned that a strong detach-
ment under the Archduke Ferdinand had escaped from the place,
and was making its way into the mountains of Bohemia in spite
of the attempt of one of Marshal Ney's divisions to stop it. The
same day a second column left the place, but was met by another
division of Ney's corps and driven back into Ulm. The corps of
Marshal Lannes was ordered to support that of Marshal Xey, and
that same evening the two corps slept on the heights which over-
look Ulm on the left bank of the Danube, while Marmont ap-
proached it on the right. The Emperor took post at Elchingen,
which was the key of Bohemia. Ulm was closely invested, and
its outposts driven in.
The Austrians remained in this situation four days without
making any overture. In the mean time, Memmingen had sur-
rendered with its garrison of six thousand men. the news of which
was brought the Emperor in a wretched bivouac where it was
318 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
necessary to procure a plank for him lo keep his feet out of the
water. He had just received the capitulation, when Prince Mau-
rice Lichtenstein came with a flag of truce from Marshal Mack,
lie was led forward on horseback with his eyes bandaged. When
he was presented to the Emperor, his look showed that he did not
expect to find him there. Mack, not suspecting his presence, had
sent to treat for the evacuation of Ulm and for permission for the
army which occupied it to return to Austria. The French them-
selves allow that it was the constant practice of the enemy's gen-
erals to attempt to outwit their own, whenever Buonaparte was
not on the spot. The Emperor could not help smiling at the
proposal, and said, " What reason have I to comply with this de-
mand ? In a week you will be in my power without conditions.
You expect the advance of the Russian army, which is scarcely
in Bohemia yet; and besides, if 1 let you go, what guarantee
have I that your troops will not he made to serve when once they
are united with the Russians ? I have not forgotten Marengo. I
suffered M. de Melas to go ; and Moreau had to fight his troops
at the end of two months, in spite of the most solemn promises to
conclude peace * There are no laws of war to appeal to, after
such conduct as that of your government towards me. Most
assuredly, I have not sought, you ; and then again I cannot rely
on any engagements into which your General might enter with
me, because it will depend on himself alone to keep his word. It
would he ii ditleronl tiling if you had one of your Princes in Ulm,
and he were to hind himself; but I believe the Archduke is cjone."
Prince Maurice replied in the best manner he could, and pro-
tested that the army would not leave the place without the con-
ditions he demanded. '• 1 shall not grant them.' 7 rejoined the
Emperor ; "there is the capitulation of your General who com-
manded at Mommingon ; carry il to Marshal Mack, and tell him
I will grant no other terms. Besides, 1 am in no hurry; the
longer he delays, the worse he u ill render his situation and that
of you all. for the rest, I shall have the corps which took
Memmingen here to-morrow, and we shall then sec."
* This was -what was called ambition in Buonaparte; because he had to
put down these continual breaches of faith and ever-springing hopes of the
subjugation of France.
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 319
Prince Liechtenstein was conducted back to Ulm. The same
evening General Mack wrote a letter to the Emperor, in which
he plainly stated that the only consolation which was left him in
his misfortunes was his being obliged to treat with him ; that no
other person should have made him accept such mortifying con-
ditions ; but since fortune would have it so, he awaited his orders.
Next morning Bcrthier went to Ulm and returned in the evening
with the capitulation, by which the whole army surrendered. It
was to march out with the honors of war, file off before the French
army, lay down its arms, and set out for France, with the excep-
tion of the generals and officers, who had permission to return
home on condition of not serving till a complete exchange. For
eight days that the French troops had passed before Ulm, it had
rained incessantly ; all at once the rain ceased, and the Austrian
army filed oil* in the finest weather imaginable. That was a day
glorious to France, and that threw back once more to a perilous dis-
tance the ever-returning, undismayed hope of tyrants to set their
feet once for all upon the necks of mankind ! Mack has been
loudly accused of treachery on this occasion, without any positive
grounds. He was probably under the influence of that species
of fascination which takes place in the intellectual as well as the
physical world from an apprehension of superior power ; and
which rendered him incapable of summoning resolution to moot
the danger when it came, as it had before deprived him of the
faculty of locomotion to avoid it. The outrageous revilers of
Mack will hardly include the Archduke Ferdinand in the same
censure, who yet suffered the Austrian force to be cooped up in
this precarious position from the same want of decision, and left
it to its fate a few days before. Mack was. however, guilt'.- of a
greater offence than even the surrender of Ulm : he paid Buona
parte a visit after the signature of the capitulation at the Abbe\
of Flchingen, who drew from him (as men are communicative in
calamity) the secrets of the Allies, as it respected their new engage-
ments and ulterior objects. Mack was afterwards confined in an
Austrian dungeon : where it was not known for a long time' what
became of him. General Mathieu Dumas had it in charge tc
accompany him back to Ulm and to make the necessary disposi-
lions for the ceremony of the following day. The French armv
320 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
was drawn up in order of buttle on the neighboring heights ; the
dress and accoutrements of the soldiers being put into the best
state that circumstances would admit. The drums beat — the
bands played ; the gates of Him opened ; the Austrian army
advanced in silence, filed eff slowly, and went, corps by corps,
to lay down its anus at a certain spot which had been previously
agreed upon. This day put into the power of the French thirty-
six thousand men ; six thousand had been taken at Memmingen.
and about two thousand at the battle of Wertingen ; so that the
total loss of the Austrians could be estimated at little short of
fifty thousand men, with seventy pieces of cannon and about
three thousand five hundred horses, which served to mount a
division of dragoons, which had come from Boulogne on foot.
The ceremony lasted the whole day. The Emperor (who flung
more glory into one day then, than would fill up whole years
now) was posted on a little hill in front of the centre of his army ;
a large fire had been lighted, and by this fire he received the
Austrian generals to the number of seventeen. lie complained
of the iniquitous proceeding of their Government " in coining
without any declaration of war to seize him by the throat ;" and
said that •• the Aulic Council would have done better if instead
of mixing up Asiatic hordes in European quarrels it had joined
with him to repel Ru.->sian encroachment." Tims early did the
dread of Russian power haunt him ; and so clearly did he think
it the poliev of the other Continental states to make head against
it. But it was not the irruption of barbarism winch the}- feared,
but t!i-' progress of light and civilization! A trilling circum-
stance occurred during this interview, which sets Buonaparte's
character in a just light. An officer more remarkable for his
petulance than his wit, repeated aloud an expression as coining
from one of the soldiers, tending to throw ridicule on the vau-
aui-died. Napoleon, whose ear caught up every tiling, was
highlv displeased; an! si-nt one of his aidede-camps to tell
thai general oftic r to ivtire. saving to those near him, ■• !!•
must have' little respect 1 >r hims If \vh > insults men in misfor-
tu if !"
The Emperor slept ;i* Elchingen, and set out next day for
Augsburg, where he 1 < !_:> d at the Bishop's palace. lie stayed
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 3»1
there only time enough to arrange a new set of marches for the
troops and then departed. He had learned fresh particulars of
the approach of the Russians. Travellers from Lintz had seen
the first troops of that nation enter the town, and place themselves
in carts and waggons collected beforehand, hastening forward to
the Rhine. The news of the capture of Ulm soon after reached
their commander-in-chief, Kutusow, and made a change in his
plans. These same Russians who were now pressing on in the
full confidence of their brutality and ignorance to the frontiers of
France (like a herd of filthy swine snuffing another Poland) and
for the third time compelled to turn back, made a sad outcry
when some years after the French returned the intended compli-
ment — they revenged it too by accident — God knows not by right,
unless failure in wrong constitutes a right ! — From Augsburg
Buonaparte set forward for Munich, where, though the Elector
had not yet returned, he was well received by the Bavarians ;
and the city was illuminated. The French army now crossed
the Iserovcr all the bridges from that of Munich to that of Plading,
and approached the Inn. The Emperor, with a large portion of
the army, took the road to Miihldorf, where the Russians had
just been. Beyond this, there was not a single bridge which
they had not burned, thus giving a foretaste of their dexterity
at the work of devastation and an intelligible warning what sort
of customers they were. From Miihldorf the Emperor proceeded
to Burkhausen and thence to Brannau. A garrison of two thou-
sand Russians left in the latter place would have occasioned
considerable inconvenience and delay, but they had only burned
the bridge over the Inn. The bridge at Lintz was also burned :
the troops here crossed to the left bank of the Danube, and were
pushed forward by slow and cautious marches into Bohemia, fol-
lowing the track of the Russians. At Lintz Buonaparte received
a visit from the Elector of Bavaria and his son ; and Duroc, who
bad been dispatched on a mission to Berlin, rejoined him in that
town. He brought back nothing satisfactory : it appeared pretty
certain that the conduct of Prussia would be governed by events,
or in other words that Napoleon would have to reckon that power
too among his enemies, should fortune prove unfavorable to him.
lie seems to have drawn the natural inference that should fortune
15*
322 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
prove favorable to him, this would give him at least an equal right
to use his discretion with respect to Prussia — an inference (un-
avoidable as it is] which has been aggravated into the most wanton
cruelty and injustice !
At Lintz also the Emperor received accounts of the army of
Italy and of the retreat of the Archduke Charles towards Vienna,
after a sanguinary but indecisive action with Massena. General
G Inlay, one of the officers included in the capitulation of I dm,
came with a flag of truce to propose an armistice; but as the ob-
ject evidently was to gain time and to allow the Archduke and
the Russians to form a junction at Yi< una, which might save the
Austrian monarch}" from the danger which threatened it, Buona-
parte would not listen to it, and said they might fight and treat at
the same time, lie also observed that General Giulay had no
power to treat for the Russians; and sent him back, if bis inten-
tions were serious, to have them included its parties in the armis-
tice. Buonaparte therefore set out fir Vienna and arrived at St.
Pollen, where he was detained a day or two 'bv a severe check
which one of Marshal M irtier's divisi >ns bad received from the
Russians. This with the loss of three eagles vexed the Emperor ;
and by no means put him into a better humor for agreeing to
General Giulav's proposals, which were renewed here. On the
contrary, the troops were urged on to Vienna, and Marshals
Lannes and Murat entered that capital by a stratagem of war
which showed a good deal of spirit and adroitness. General
. was -till witli the Empi i'i>r, and for the last fortnight there
had b'f-n much talk of an armi>tice. so that tli" usual strictness
i :' liscipline «'ii> f'dax • d. The Au.-tri ins. placed > n the 1 ■:'; bank
of tii" Danube, |i; M ] huwevi i' made the necessary disp isitions lor
f the Tabor, ai . rely e vi red i: by a
p ;us to save
; : ;;< m-aus of < rtant to the a rmv. \vi nt
th ms' lvi - ace mpanied by a f-\v otnecrs. to the Austrian papist ;
c i!ivi-rsa".ioii u on the nun irs i it' an :
t;ee , iii l- 1 w nil" th"ir atti'til : >n was thus d rawn oil', a (.•ohiiiii) of
Lann . i :.• ■ ihci r. advanced
!;i: ■ ,._:i the suburbs > f Vienna in the island of the Prater, trained
the bri . ;m ! after throwing into the water
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. ZW
all the fire-works prepared for blowing it up, seized upon the can.
non, and established themselves on the opposite bank of the river.
This surprise, which was executed in a moment, was of the utmost
consequence, as it prevented the junction of the Archduke with
the Russians, and put Vienna with all its stores and the advan-
tages it possessed into the hands of Napoleon. He was much'
pleased with the success of this bold stroke, and fixed his head-
quarters at the palace of Schonbrunn, where he prepared to
manoeuvre with all his forces, (which were pouring into Vienna
from every quarter) either upon the Russians or the Archduke
Charles, according as either one or the other should be most with-
in his reach.
The army of General Kutusow, which had recrossed the Dan-
ube at Stein (and which if it had proceeded in the first instance
to Vienna might have given a different turn to affairs) was march-
ing by Znaim to rejoin the main Russian army at Olmutz, where
the Emperor Alexander was. The Archduke Charles, instead
of advancing to protect the capital, was obliged to turn to the
right so as to gain Hungary, and troops were instantly marched
upon Presburg, to remove still further off the possibility of his
effecting a junction with the Russians. Mortier and Marmont
outside the walls of Vienna watched the roads to Italy and Hun-
gary. Xey was still in the country of Saltzburg before KufK,
stein, which had a strong garrison. Napoleon was somewhat
dissatisfied that Massena had not come up in time to join mm
before lie gave battle to the Russians. He set out for Znaim ;
and on the day of his departure, the advance-guard overtook the
Russian rear-guard under Prince Bagration, and had a severe
action with it at Hollabrunn. Both parties behaved like men, and
General Oudinot was wounded. Buonaparte in consequence
gave tin 1 command of the grenadiers to Duroc, being desirous that
he should distinguish himself during the campaign. The French
picked up a number of stragglers and sick in the rear of the
Russian inarch. They appear to have imbibed thus early an
overweening contempt for their doughty antagonists from the stu-
pidity of their countenances. But stupidity lias its advantages as
well as wit. If a man strikes his hand against a piece of wood
c*~ sU^o, he will be the sufferer. — At Znaim the Emperor was
324 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
informed that the Russians had marched by the road to Brunn ;
and he made the army take the same road. In that city he was
joined by Bernadotte's four regiments of light cavalry under
Kellermann ; they had come by the Budweis road, and had left
Bernadotte and his corps with the Bavarian cavalry under General
Wrcde (which was worn out with fatigue in its pursuit of the
Archduke Ferdinand) at Iglau in Bohemia. On his arrival at
Brunn, Buonaparte found the citadel evacuated and the magazines
full of stores, as if a friend had just quitted the place ; and pushed
on that same evening with all the cavalry to Olmutz. At the
first post they fell in with the enemy's rear-guard, and a sharp
action ensued, in which the horse-grenadiers of the guard suc-
ceeded in cutting the Russian line in two. — It was dark before this
smart affair was over. The Emperor returned to Brunn, and
came next day upon the ground, where it had occurred to him to
place his army, which was coming up in different directions. Pie
moved on the cavalry of the advance-guard to Yichau ; went
thither himself, and on his return walked his horse over all the
sinuosities and inequalities of the ground in front of the position
which he had ordered to be taken. He paused at every height,
had the distances measured, and frequently said to his attendants,
"Gentlemen, examine the ground well ; you will have a part to
act upon it. ;r It was the same on which the battle of Austerlitz
was fought, and which was occupied bv the Russians before the
battle. He passed the whole day on horseback, inspected the
p isiti m of each of the corps of his army, and remarked on the
left of Gi neral Suchot's divisi m, a single hillock overlooking the
whole front of that division. The Centon was there, as if for the
express purpose : herein; had brought the same night fourteen
Austrian pieces of cannon, part of those found at Brunn. As
caissms could not he placed there, two hundred charges of pow-
der were piled up behind each of them; the foot of the G u1 :;
was then cut away as an e>oarpment, so as to secure it fr
sault. The Kmper ir returned to sleep at Brunn.
Ah>r the occupation of Vienna nod the affair of Hollabrunn.
j\ap >leou was strongly .- ilicited by all about him to make peace.
The difficulty was. after lie had made it. to make others keep it.
Lie was nevertheless himself disposed to it; but the Russians
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 325
Were in his presence, and it was first requisite to measure his
strength with them. Two envoys arrived from the Emperor of
Austria, M. Stadion and another, announcing the arrival of a
third from the Emperor Alexander ; but the Emperor contented
himself with referring them to M. Talleyrand, who was expected
at Vienna, of which General Clarke had just been appointed
governor. It was at this period that Buonaparte received the
news of the battle of Trafalgar, with which Nelson closed the
career of his triumphs and his life. The French fleet, though
superior in force, was not only beaten but destroyed by the coin-
age of the English sailors and the skill of their daring and high-
spirited commander ; and lias remained from that time a mere
wreck of itself. The Spanish Admiral Gravina, who was
wounded in the fight, died in consequence ; and Villencuve soon
after put an end to himself, unable to bear the disgrace of so
many defeats and disasters. This event took place on the 21st
of October, 1805. Buonaparte seeing all his hopes of naval vic-
tory thus at once " in the deep bosom of the ocean buried," pro-
bably thought it necessary to do something to parry the blow, and
immediately set himself about it.
He had been several days at Brunn, when he ordered the corps
of Bernadotte to draw nearer. This augured the approach of
something decisive : but he wished first to try the effect or to gain
the credit of an act of courtesy. He sent for one of his aide-de-
camps (Savary, afterwards Duke of Rovigo) at day-break : he had
passed the night over his maps : his candles were burnt down to
the sockets ; he held a letter in his hand, and after being silent
some moments, he abruptly said. " Set out to Olmutz ; deliver
this letter to the Emperor of Russia, and tell him that having
heard of his arrival in his army, 1 have sent you to salute him in
my name. [\ he questions you,"' added he," you know what an-
swer to give under such circumstances." — Savary left the Emperor
and proceeded to the French advanced posts at Vichau, where he
took a trumpeter, and so repaired to those of the Russians, onlv
about a league distant on the road to Olmutz. He was detained
at the first post of Cossacks, till notice could be given to Prince
Bagration, who sent him on to Olmutz to Ivutusow, the com.
matider-in-chief : this journey was performed through the whole
.■528 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Russian army, which he saw assembling and taking arms, as
the morning rose. Kutusow asked him for the dispatch which
he had brought for the Emperor ; observing that he slept in the
fortress, and that the gates could not he opened at present. lie
went away, leaving Savary with an officer belonging to the Rus-
sian staff, among whom were a great many young men who
crowded round and talked loudly of the ambition of France and
n[ the means of curbing it. At ten in the forenoon a bustle took
place in the street, and on inquiring the cause of it, the aide-de-
camp was told, " It is the Emperor." He had but just time to
throw off his cloak, and take his dispatch out of his pocket-book,
when Alexander entered the room where the envoy had been
waiting. Me made a motion for all present to retire, and they
were left alone. Savary was struck with the nobleness of the
Czar's figure : he was at this time six-and-twenty. He was
already hard of hearing with lus left ear. ami turned the right to
hear what was said to him. lie spoke in broken sentences, slowly,
and laying a stress upon the last syllables, but in the best French,
without any accent. After hearing Savary's message and taking
the letter, he said, " I duly appreciate the proceeding of your
master : it is with regret that 1 have armed against him, and 1
shall seize with great pleasure the first opportunity of giving him
that assurance. lie has long been the object of my admiration."
Then changing the subject, lie said, " I will go and peruse this
letter, and bring you an answer to it." In half an hour Alexander
returned ; and holding his answer with the address turned down-
wards, entered into a long conversation with Savary, in which he
laid it down in a dictatorial but go -d-hum in d tone, that France
to -how her moderation and good faith could do no less than
e all she had been lighting for during the last ten years,
being C' ititcnted with th . i :' ting the Allies, who w uld
itii that time (as thev could lose nothing in the endj stand
in the same awe of her i ncr achments an i ambiti n. \\ hen this
■ i ti n was ■ ver. the Kmperor gave Savary bis answer to
Iter be had brought from Xap h-on. still holding the a idress
r| r\\ n wards, and adding — •• lb n- is mv answer : the address does
i. : express the title he has >>1 late assumed. 1 attach no impor-
tune* to such trilles ;' — the address was — "To tin- Chief of the
I5ATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 327
Flench Government." Nevertheless, it was for such trifles that
Europe had been at war for the last ten years, and continued so
for the next ten. — Savary was then conducted back to the ad-
vanced posts ; and on his way saw the Russian guards pass by,
which had just come from St. Petersburg to join the army. They
were composed of men of great stature, and who seemed insensi-
ble to fatigue. M. de Novosilzow wished to accompany the
French aide-de-camp back to Brunn, as he had particular busi-
ness with M. de Haugwitz, who was expected there from Berlin,
but this wheedling proposal M. Savary declined. He found Na-
poleon at the post-house at Posorzitz, three quarters of a mile
from the last out-posts, and gave him the letter and an account
of all that had passed. He appeared thoughtful for some time,
connecting what he now heard with the hints which Mack had
dropped at Ulm and with the reported defection of Prussia. At
length, he desired Savary to return with all speed and propose an
interview with the Emperor Alexander for the morrow. He did
so accordingly, and the Russian Emperor seemed disposed to
grant it ; but on a report that the French were retreating, Napo-
leon having fallen back purposely to the position he had previ-
ously chosen for the battle, Alexander was persuaded to send
Prince Dolgorouki in his stead. When Buonaparte heard of
his arrival, he was walking in the bivouacs of the infantry,
where he had slept upon some straw. Such was his desire for
peace, that scarce hearing the message, he mounted his horse,
and hastened to the spot, his piquet being hardly able to keep up
with him. He alighted, walked alone with Prince Dolgorouki on
the high road ; but the latter gave some offence by what he said,
for Buonaparte replied sharply — " If that is what you have to sav
to me, go and tell the Emperor Alexander that I had no notion of
these expectations when I asked to sec him ; I would only have
shown him my army, and referred to his equitv for the conditions
of a peace : if lie will have it so. we must light : 1 wash my hands
of it." The Prince then took leave, and when he was [rone, the
Emperor made his aide-de-camp repeat over and over all that had
passed, exclaiming at every pause— " But those people must be
mad to insist on my giving up Italy, when it is impossible for
them to take Vienna from me. What plans had ihey then, and
328 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
what would they have done with France, if I had been beaten ?
Let it end as God pleases ; but by my faith, before eight-and-
forty hours are over, I shall have given them a sound drub-
bing !"
While thus speaking, he returned on foot to the first post of in-
fantry of the army ; it was the carbineers of the 17th. The
Emperor was irritated, and he vented his impatience by striking
with his switch the lumps of earth lying on the road. The sen-
tinel, an old soldier, overheard him ; and having placed himself
at ease, he had his gun between his knees, and was filling his
pipe. Napoleon as he passed close by, looked at him and said.
" Those Russians fancy they have nothing to do but to swallow
us up !" The old soldier immediately joining in the conversa-
tion — " Oho !" replied he, " that won't be such an easy job — ■
we ; ll stick ourselves right across !" This sally made the Empe-
ror laugh ; and resuming his composure, he mounted his horse,
and returned to head-quarters.
lie now thought of nothing but preparations for the battle,
which he resolved to put off no longer. Bernadotte had joined
him with two divisions of infantry ; Souk had three ; Lannes
two; the grenadiers formed a strong one; the foot-guards one.
Marshal Davoust had one within reach ; the Emperor, besides the
light cavalry, had three divisions of dragoons, two of cuirassiers,
and the two regiments of carbineers, with the horse-guards. He
caused abundance of provisions and ammunition of all kinds to
be brought upon the ground from I'runn. it was the last day of
November, l s 0.~> ; the next day, the 1st of December, lie himself
stationed all the divisions of the army, seeming to know the
ground as well as the environs of Paris. Marshal Davoust occu-
pied the extreme right, being in communication between Brunn
and Vienna. One of his divisions was commanded by General
Friant. Marshal Davoust was separated by ponds and long nar-
row defdes from Marshal Soult, who was opposed to the left of
tin 1 Russian nruiv, the division of General Legrand forming his
right, with thai of St. Ililairo to the left of Legrand's, and Van-
damme's division to the left of St. Ililaire's. In the second
line, behind Marshal Soult, was the division of grenadiers, and on
their left were Bernadotte's two divisions. On the left of Soult,
BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 329
Lannes was posted with his two corps on a ground rather in ad-
vance on the road to Olmutz, near the Centon. The light cav-
alry were placed between Lannes and Soult, with an open ground
in front, the dragoons behind, and the cuirassiers with the horse-
guards at a short distance. The Emperor passed the whole day
on horseback, speaking to the soldiers, viewing the artillery, ana
inspecting all the appurtenances of the war. He dined at his bi-
vouac, where he was met by all the marshals, to whom he en-
larged on what might happen the next day. The Russian army
was seen arriving the whole afternoon, and taking up a position
to the right about a quarter of a mile off.
In the evening of the 1st of December there was an irregu
lar firing of small arms to the right, which was kept up so late as
to give the Emperor some uneasiness. He sent to see what it
was ; and it turned out to be a skirmish between General Le-
grand's advanced-guard and the Russians, who wished to gain
possession of a village at the foot of their position for the purpose
of attacking the right of the French army the next day. The
moon at first shone bright ; but the night becoming overcast, they
desisted, and merely collected their force together on that point.
The aide-de-camp who had been sent to reconnoitre, on his re-
turn found the Emperor lying on some straw in a hut which the
soldiers had made for him, and so fast asleep that he was obliged
to shake him in order to awake him. When he had heard the
report, he desired it to be repeated ; sent for Marshal Soult and
mounted his horse to go himself and inspect his whole line and
see this movement of the Russians on his right : he approached
as near to it as possible. On his return through the bivouacs, he
was recognized by the soldiers, who spontaneously lighted torches
of straw : this spread from one end of the army to the other;
ui a moment there was a general illumination, and the air was
rent with shouts of Vive V Empcrcur ! It was very late before he
returned ; and though he continued to take repose, it was not un-
interrupted by uneasiness as to what might be the object of the
movement on his right on the following day. He was awake and
stirring by day-break, to get the whole of the troops under arms
in silence.
There was a thick fog which enveloped all the bivouacs, so
28 *
530 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
that it was impossible to distinguish objects at any distance.
This was an advantage to the French, and gave them time to
form their ranks. As it grew light, the fog seemed disposed to
clear off. An unbroken silence prevailed to the very extremity
of the horizon : no one would have suspected that there were so
many men and so many noisy engines of destruction crowded to-
gether in so small a space. Buonaparte sent again to reconnoitre
the position of the Russians to the right: they were already in
motion; but the remains of the fog made it difficult to distin-
guish what they were about. It was scarcely seven in the morn-
ing: at length, the fog cleared off, and the sun rose in splendor.
The two armies appeared almost close upon one another.
The Emperor saw his whole army, infantry and cavalry,
formed into columns. lie was surrounded by his marshals, who
teased him to begin : but he resisted their importunities till the fire
of the Russians on the right became brisker; he then dismissed
all the marshals and ordered them to commence the attack. The
onset of the whole army at once had something appalling in it:
you might hear the words of command of the different officers.
It marched, as if to exercise, to the very foot of the Russian po-
sition, halting at times to rectify its distances and direction.
General St. Ililaire attacked the front of the Russian position,
called in the language of the country the hill of the Pral/.er.
lie there sustained fir two hours a tremendous tire of musketry,
which might have staggered any one but himself: he had not a
battalion thai was not engaged in the thickest of the fight. Van-
damme, who had more space to traverse, came up at this point of
time, attacked anil overthrew the eiiemv's columns, and became
master of their position and artillery. The Emperor immediately
marched one of I>ernadotte\s divisions and a part of the grena-
diers to the aid of \ andamme and St. Ililaire. while he ordered
Marshal Lannes to lose no time ju falling upon tin 1 right of the
Russians, that they might not (Mine to the relief of their left, who
were wholly occupied in defending themselves. They would
have fallen back, and re-ascended the Pratzer ; but were followed
so closelv hv General Leerand and bv briant's division (detached
from Marshal Davoust) that they were obliged to stand at bay,
neither advancing nor retiring. General Vandamme then, under
BATTLE OF AUSTERL1TZ. 331
the superintendance of Soult and supported by a division of Ber-
nadotte's, made a sudden change of direction by the right flank
for the purpose of turning and enclosing all the troops engaged
with St. Hilaire's division. This movement succeeded ; and the
two divisions, united on the Pratzer itself by this manoeuvre,
made a second change of direction still wheeling to their right,
and descended from the Pratzer to attack in the rear all the troops
opposed to General Legrand, thus following the steps of the Rus-
sians the night before and making a complete semicircle. Buo-
naparte seeing how things went, ordered up the rest of the grena-
diers and the foot-guards, to complete the enemy's disorder, and
thus decided the battle. He instantly dispatched his aide-de-
camp, Lebrun, to Paris with the news, and sent off messengers to
the Electors of Bavaria and Wurtemberg.
General Vandamme had received a check at the commence-
ment of his first change of direction, the fourth regiment of the
line losing one of its eagles in a charge of Russian cavalry ; but
the accident had no bad consequences from the timely succor of
the chasseurs of the Guard and the grenadiers on duty about the
Emperor. He had ordered Bernadotte's division, instead of turn-
ing round upon the enemy with Vandamme's the second time, to
go right forward upon the infantry of the Russian guard. It did
so ; broke it, and drove it fighting a full league ; but it returned
back, no body knew why, to its first position, where to his gruat
astonishment Buonaparte found it in the evening. The left of
the French army under Lannes, and the cavalry of Murat had
in the meantime broken and put to flight the whole right of the
[iussian army, which at night-fall took the road to Austerlitz, to
join the relics of that part with which Marshal Soult had been
engaged. Had Bernadotte's division continued marching in the
direction prescribed to it, instead of falling back, it would have
been posted across the road from Austerlitz to Hollitsch, by which
lie Russian army was retreating, and thus have completed its'
destruction. Bernadotte's want of good-will to the work began
about this time to lead him into repeated blunders ; and probably
his blunders helped to increase his ill-will. All the Russian
troops that had descended from the Pratzer were taken prisoners
on the spot. There were left on the field of battle one hundred
332 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
pieces of cannon, with forty-three thousand prisoners of war, ex-
clusively of the wounded and slain who remained on the ground.
This was one of Buonaparte's great battles. No wonder if in the
end he became swoln and as it were choked up with victories !
lie came back in the evening along the whole line, where the
different regiments had fought. It was already dark : he recom-
mended silence to those who accompanied him that he might hear
the cries of the wounded ; he immediately went to the spot where
they were, alighted himself, and ordered a glass of brandy to be
given them. In this manner, he remained till very late upon the
held of battle; his escort passed the whole night upon it, taking
the cloaks from the Russian dead to cover the wounded with
them. He himself ordered a large fire to be kindled near each
of them, sent for a muster-master, and did not retire till he ar-
rived ; and having left him a picket of his own men, enjoined
him not to quit the wounded till they were lodged in the hospital.
These brave men loaded him with blessings, which found the way
to his heart much better than all the flatteries of courtiers. He
thus won the affection of his soldiers, who knew that when they
suffered it was not his fault, and who therefore never spared
themselves in his service. It was so late when they arrived at
Brunn, that there was only time to issue the order to Marshal
Uavoust to collect his corps and pursue the Russians the foilow.
ing day.
TREATY OF PRESBURG. 333
CHATTER XXXVI
THE TREATY OF PRESBURG.
Ox the 3d of December, the day following the battle, Prince
John of Lichtenstein arrived at the castle of Austerlitz charged
with a message from his master to solicit an interview with Na-
poleon, to which the latter assented. The Emperors both of
Austria and Russia were in a precarious situation, there being no
escape left for their troops in the line of retreat on which they
had been driven but the bridge of Goding at Hollitsch, to which
the corps of Davoust was nearer than the wrecks of the Russian
and Austrian army. Napoleon alone knew that Davoust was in.
ferior in numbers to the Allies, and that they might therefore still
force their way through him ; he also apprehended the accession
of Prussia to the Coalition, and had just learned by intercepted
dispatches from M. Stadion, that the Archduke Charles had ar-
rived on the Danube, while Massena was still on the other side of
the Julian Alps, lie therefore granted the interview which had
been solicited, in the hone of concluding peace and avoiding fresh
hazards.
On the 4th, at nine in the morning, the Emperor set out with
his suite and guards, and proceeded along the high-road of Hol-
litsch to a mill in front of the advanced posts of Bcrnadotle, about
three leagues from Austerlitz. Napoleo^. arrived first, and or-
dered two fires tn be made ; the horseguurds were drawn up in
order of battle, two hundred paces in the rear. It was not long
before the Emperor of Austria was announced. He came in a
landau, accompanied by Princes John and .Maurice Lichtenstein,
the Prince of Wurtemberg, Prince Schwartzenberg, Generals
Kienmayer, Bubna, and Stutterheim, and two superior officers ot
Ilulans. There was with the Emperor of Austria an escort of
Hungarian cavalry, which halted, as the French had done, abcut
334 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
two hundred paces from the spot where the interview was held.
The Emperor Napoleon, who was on foot, went to meet the Em-
peror of Austria from the place where the fire was as far as tho
carriage, and embraced as he accosted him. Prince John of
Liechtenstein alighted from the same carriage, and followed the
Emperor of Austria to the Emperor's fire: there he remained
during the whole interview, as did Marshal Berthier near the
Emperor. All the other persons in the suite of the two Sove-
reigns were together at one and the 'same fire, which was sepa-
rated only by the high-road from that of the Emperors. The con-
versation here turned on the events of the battle, the French
studying to say nothing that might be galling to the feelings of
their adversaries ; but no one could make out what was passing
at the other fire. At any rate, the parties seemed to be in excel-
lent humor; they laughed, which was construed into a favora-
ble omen, and accordingly in about an hour the two Sovereigns
separated after a mutual embrace. The attendants then ran to
do their duty, and as they approached. Napoleon said to the Em-
peror of Austria, " I agree to it; but your Majesty must promise
not to make war upon me again." — " No, I promise you I will
not." replied the Emperor of Austria, " and I will keep my word."
lie did so — after the manner of princes!
The day was drawing to a close, when the two Emperors
parted, and took the road to their respective armies. Napoleon
rode his horse at a foot-pace, musing on what had just been said
and on what he meant to do. He called to General Savarv, and
said, '-linn alter the Emperor of Austria: tell him that I have
desired vou to go and wait at his head-quarters for the adhesion
of the Emperor of Russia, as far as he is concerned, to what has
just been concluded between us. When vou are in possession
of this adhesion, proceed to the corps d'armcc of Marshal Davoust,
stop his movement, and tell him what has happened." But the
. Tartar had taken the all'air into his own hands. Savarv,
According to the instructions of the Austrian Emperor, found
Alexander at (Iodine the uexi morning, where though it was
onlv fou" or five o'clock, he was alivadv up; and his sappers
were buseph (whom he had left at Paris to preside over the
Council of Ministers in his absence) to t obtain his consent. If the brazen column built of the
cannon won by victory excited admiration, the sixty-five fountains
which in the same year first poured their waters through the cap-
ital, inspired the public :rratitu je, and proved beyond dispute that
the Chief of the State was much more occupied in setting on foot
works of public utility than those of a vain iflorv. \\\ the course
of his administration, all that was really err. at and useful came
from himself; while what appertained to luxury and outward
show, was the indirect result of the powerful impulse that had
been eriven to the Pine Art-, and of the passionate admiration
due to one who had achieved so many victories and so many titles
to renown.*
* The cannon taken at Austerlitz were not all mfi'le use of to erect the
column in th>> Pl;a V>-/r;6;n". M. Gau'lin. Minister of Finance, came ono
day to Napoleon to demand a score of these camion for his own use. "What
'-Leu '.'" exclaimed the emperor, ■■is our minister of Finance going to make
TREATY OF PRESBURG. 343
In the spring of 1806, Russia had made no declaration of her
intentions ; Austria had hut ill executed the conditions of the
treaty ; Prussia was restless and uneasy, and England was at her
old work. The Emperor, uncertain of the future, sought to
strengthen his interests in the East, and sent General Sebastiani,
who was just recovered of a severe wound received at the hattle
of Austerlitz, as his ambassador to Constantinople. In the be-
ginning of that year, however, Mr. Pitt died, and Mr. Fox suc-
ceeded him, which gave a short deceitful gleam of hope to the
world. While Mr. Pitt lived, war was certain ; his death oifered
a bare chance of peace. lie had long been the mouth-piece of
the war-party, and the darling of that part of the aristocracy who
wished to subdue the popular spirit of English freedom, to get the
whole power of the country into the hands of a few borough-
mongers, and of course to crush and stifle the example and the
rising flame of liberty everywhere else. The perverse schemes
of this party, the rooted instinct of power in the hearts of kings,
Mr. Pitt clothed with a drapery of words, an everlasting tissue
of rhetorical common-places, not to express, but to disguise them,
and to make it impossible ever to disentangle them from the dark
recesses of pride and passion in which they lurked. Without a
heart or natural affections, without a head to conceive of good or
a hand to execute even the had he meditated, this parliamentary
automaton was a sort of lay-figure to hang a waving tapestry of
gaudy phrases upon, so as to screen the designs of Ministers and
baffle Opposition. Engaged in a quarrel that was never to have
an end, and for an object that must be kept in the back-ground, it
u as necessary to have a set of plausible excuses always ready,
;hat applied to everything because they really meant nothing, and
to fmd out an orator to ring the changes on them in measured and
lofty periods, to whom no fact, feeling, or image' in his own breast
war upon as.'" — "No," replied the Duke do Gaota. "not upon you. but on
some villainous old machines that kill the workmen in the mint : and if your
Majesty will give me twenty of these cannon to reconstruct the beams of
the engines. I will have the name of Austerlitz engraved upon them."' This
appeal prevailed ; M. Gaudiu had the cannon placed at his disposal: and
these engines are still used to stamp the heads on the coin of the present
kiu^s of France !
344 LIFE OF JS'APOLEON.
ever suggested the reality of anything but words, and to whom the
shriek of death or the erics of despair were lost in the sound of
his own voice. If we were at war, it was for " the existence of
social order," a term that included between its extremes the high-
est liberty or the worst despotism : if we did not make; peace, it
was because "existing circumstances" would not permit us —
no matter whether those; circumstances were prosperous or ad-
verse, whether it was we who would not make peace with the
enemy or the enemy who would not make peace with us. It
was impossible to drive the Minister out of his routine of ver-
biage or to force an explanation from him that admitted of being
either verified or disproved ; and with these and a few more
phrases of the same stamp be served the ends of his employers,
deluded Parliament, and brought the country to the brink of ruin.
He died when the power, which Ik; bad pledged himself to de-
stroy or to be destroyed by it, bad nearly attained its utmost
height; and the best tiling that can be said for him is that the
defeat of all bis plans and predictions, either from pride or shame,
probably caused his death.
Mr. Fox would no doubt have tried to save both countries from
the alternative to which -Mr. Pitt's policy wished to force them,
hut with what success or degree of firmness is not so certain. He
had always been Mr. Pitt's ablest and most strenuous antagonist
in that ruthless career of ambition and servility to which his rival
lent himself; and the debates between them on the question of
peace or war, (particularly in IT'JT and 17!H, before Mr. Pitt
went out of office) were some of the most equallv sustained, the
most animated and characteristic in the records of our parliament-
ary eloquence. The great leader of Opposition was a man of
impulse and feeling, generous and sociable to a fault, sanguine in
tee cause of libertv and truth, and a man of a plain, strait- for ward,
but strong and well-stored understanding. He had not been the
dupe of Mr. liurke's romantic and fanciful view of the French
Revolution, with bis hire the en i of the year, which had witnessed the
diss 'lution of the hist. This time it was Prussia and Russia that
leagued against France, and Kugland as usual that was to
pay th ' C '.st.
During the late e >nf n nci -. Bu naj arte had i n leavored to
bribe the 1'higlish Government to peace bv otfTmg to restore
Hanover. This was resented as a deep ind '•-. bv Prussia,
hi piigh she professedly held llauovr only a< a pi edge ad interim ;
and by her doubh -dealing w ith b >t 1 1 parties, gave each a right t i
make ber the scapegoat. Wheti the <■ inferences were broken r *i 1*
ii jwi ver. this pr >j -i, f-11 to th • gr iimd ; but Prussia, though she
hep* Hani. ver. ; 1 1 - ■ > kept hi r ill h i n <:. This did not previ nt i
cordial uni • 1 1 and a thor iiigh go i understanding -hortlv after be-
tween Fngland and Prussi i : ' tiiere are stronger ties between
nrinces than r.n re interest or territ >n' — mutual hatred of the un-
TREATY OF PRESBURG. 347
authorized intruders on their power. Prussia indeed stood in an
awkward situation, and was bound to do something to recover her
character. She had neither the pride of success nor the dignity
of misfortune. Her hand had been arrested, as she had prepared
to strike an insidious blow : she had followed the war hitherto
only as a sutler to pick up what she could get; and from the
mercenary, she had to pass suddenly to the chivalrous and heroic
part. Perhaps some disjointed recollections of manifestos and
marches in the year 1792 haunted her dreams; nor was that old
wound well healed. There was a great deal of ill-blood from a
sense of provocation given, but without any blow struck ; the fer-
ment became extreme throughout the country, and assumed a
very melo-dramatic appearance indeed. It was reported from
Paris that France held Prussia cheap, and this gave birth to the
most tragic scenes of loyalty and patriotism. The example of
Frederic the Great was held up to the imitation of the King, and
he was reminded of the battle of Rosbach. The Queen and
Prince Louis of Prussia did all they could to fan the flame.
Letters were circulated tilled with invectives against the French.
It was said that the Prussian cavalry had sharpened their sabres
on the threshold of the French Ambassador. Some young men
at Berlin had indeed thrown stones at his windows ; and there
was no insult or offensive allusion of which he had not been made
the object.
In the mean time, the war-party at Paris were not idle in
fomenting the quarrel. They were exceedingly pleased at the
rupture of the negociations with England. Murat, whose new
honors bad turned his head, was the leader of this party, and let
slip no opportunity of instigating Buonaparte to war, and of giving
him an unfavorable opinion of Talleyrand and all those who in-
clined to peace. This Minister (whose sagacity was not far be-
hind his want of principle) contended that the Emperor's power
could only be consolidated by peace, and that "all his victories
could only be designated by an algebraic series, of which the first
term was a and the last y or zero/' The Grand-Duke of Berg,
on the contrary, was for carrying things with a high hand, and
thought he had nothing to do but to march from battle to battle,
from possession to possession, like the leader of a band of Condot-
348 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
tieri, consulting only his arrogance and his personal prowess, hia
plume of feathers and his sword being the only ideas in his head.
Having been just created Grand-Duke of Berg, he intimated his
design of taking possession of the three abbeys of Etten, Essen,
and Werden, in the county of March. The Prussians resisted ;
high words passed, and a few musket-shots were exchanged.
The Princess Caroline also, not satisfied with her husband's good
fortune or her brother's renown, wished with the petulance be-
longing to her sex and youth, to make conquests of her own, and
to fire the ambition of all those who had to endure her caprices.
There soon appeared on the scene therefore a troop of young ad-
miring courtiers, eager to march to new fields of glory, and to
humble still more the insolent pretensions of the clownish Prus-
sians before the accomplished cavaliers of the saloons of Paris.
Thus the desire of place and distinction, the moment it is attained,
uses its power only for its own private gratification, and plays the
game of vanity or interest witli equal temerity and forgetfulncss.
Then 1 is something too in the tone of French assumption and de-
fiance peculiarly offensive to other nations. We can bear pride
in a superior, for then 1 is something serious and dignified in it;
but self-conceit (to those in misfortune) jars through every fibre
of the frame. French impertinence has perhaps done more than
the horrors of the Revolution or Buonaparte's strides to power to
rivet the chains of Europe. It was that air of making light of
their enemies, which whetted so many daggers against them,
more than any other given cause, and which till they get rid of it
(which they will do when they get rid of the air they breathe)
will never allow them to be respected in adversity nor safe in the
lap of conquest. Buonaparte was us little swayed as possible bv
these petty cabals and idle boastings or by any thing but the ne-
cessity of the case or his own views of policy ; but they had a
tendency to inflame the irritation between the two countries and
to precipitate the war. The ultimatum of the cabinet of Berlin
was a challenge rather than an expostulation ; and Worthier wrote
from Munich to express his apprehensions that the Prussians would
commence h islilities, without any previous declaration, as had been
done in i -e|.">.
The Emperor quitted Paris on the 21st of September, 1800 ;
TREATY OF PRESBURG. 349
to which he had returned on the 26th of the preceding January.
The Empress accompanied him as far as Mentz. The Imperial
Guard which had returned to Paris after the battle of Austerlitz
(and where Buonaparte in his simplicity had promised they should
stay in future) once more began its march. Orders were sent.
to Strasburg for embarking on the Rhine all the troops from that
fortress and the neighborhood, and to Holland to direct that the
Dutch army should without delay enter Minister and advance
towards the Weser. After receiving the visits of several German
princes, the Emperor continued his journey through Aschaffen-
burg to Wurtzburg, where he arrived in the evening of the same-
day on which he left Mentz. lie stopped at the palace of the
Grand-Duke, and here he waited news of the enemy. The
different corps of the French army were assembled at their respec-
tive positions, and approached the frontiers of Saxony. This
was the first error of the Prussians, who having the start in point
of time ought to have attacked the scattered corps of the French
before they had time to effect a concentration of their force ; or at
least have come to dispute the more difficult passages of the Oder
and the Elbe with them ; instead of which (as men not knowing
what to do) they remained motionless at their positions at Erfurt
and Weimar, suffering the invading army to debouch by Saal-
field, where Marshal Lannes defeated the corps of Prince Louis
of Prussia, who was killed in the action. The Emperor himself
marched by the valley of the Maine, having with him the corps
of Bernadotte and Nov, and being flanked on his right by Soult
and Davoust. Having passed the Saale at Saalburg, he learned
the day after that the enemy had abandoned his position at Erfurt
and was coming to the Saale to meet him. He also learned from
a Saxon convoy that part of the Prussians were gone to Xaum-
burg and from the letters captured at the post-office at Gera that
er part was still at Weimar. The Emperor then formed his
resolution, which was to march on Jena with the corps of Lannes,
Nev, and Soult ; the rest of the army he ordered to continue its
march on Xaumburg and to attack the encmv if they were found
at Weimar. By this movement the Emperor turned the Prussian
armv, having arrived by a road which they should have taken to
meet him, while they were advancing to force the passage of tho
.150 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Saale by a road into which they should have driven the French,
had they manoeuvred with more skill. On the 13th of October, a
little before sunset, the Emperor arrived at Jena, with Marshal
Lannes and the foot-guards. He was near Marshals Soult and
Ney, whom he ordered to join him. Bernadotte, Davoust, and
the Gra-.I-Duke of Berg had on their part also arrived at Naum
bu'g.
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 351
CHAPTER XXXVIT
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN.
The Emperor had sent forward from Gera one of his orderly
officers, M. Eugene Montesquieu, as the hearer of a letter to the
king of Prussia, which he gave into the hands of the first Prus-
sian troops whom he encountered about a league above Jena.
On entering Jena, the French had certain news of the Prussian
army. It had left Weimar in two great corps ; the largest, un-
der the immediate command of the King and of the Duke of
Brunswick, had taken the road from Weimar to Naumburg ; the
other under the orders of the Prince of Hohenloe, had directed its
marcn on Jena. In fact, the advanced-guard of the French had
no sooner reached the summit of the hill which looks back upon
Jena, dian they discovered the enemy's line almost in front of
them. The Emperor alighted from his horse and went to recon-
noitre The sun had not quite set ; and he advanced till some
musket-shots were fired at him. He returned to hasten the
march of the columns to their positions, which he recommended
to the generals not to take up till it was dark. He slept in the
bivouac amidst the troops, having made all the generals sup with
him. Before he lay down to sleep, he descended the hill towards
Jena on foot to see that nothing was left behind, when to his" sur-
prise he found the whole of Marshal Lannes's artillery which was
to begin the fight next day, sticking fast in a ravine which in the
obscurity of the night had been mistaken for a road. He was
exceedingly vexed ; but instead of wasting time in reproaches,
he set to work himself to do the duty of an artillery -officer. He
collected the men, made them take their park-tools, and light the
lanterns, one of which he held himself for the convenience of
those whose labors he directed. In this manner the ravine was
sufficiently widened, and the extremities of the axle-trees cleared
352 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of the rocks. The Emperor did not leave the spot till the first
waggon had passed through, winch was late at night. He did
not return to his bivouac till he had issued fresh orders. There
was a hoar frost upon the ground, accompanied with fog, which
prevented the dense masses of the French troops, crowded toge-
ther on the top of the hill, from being distinguished by the en-
emy, or they might have annoyed them with their tire.
The French were under arms by day-break ; but the fog was
still so thick, that advancing towards the enemy on an open
ground in front, they missed their way. and came upon a Wuod
where the Prussian left was posted. At nine, the fog cleared
up, the sun shone out, the two armies tbund themselves close
together, and the cannonade commenced in the centre, with
the greatest sharpness on the Prussian side. Ney, who was on
the right of Marshal Lannes. attacked the extreme left of the Prus-
sians, repeatedly taking and being driven from a village where
it was lodged : and would have lost a great number of his men,
had not a division of Soult's coming up at the time (though fa-
tigued after a long march) joined in the action, turned the Prus-
sian left, and compelled them to evacuate the village. The Em-
peror blamed Ney, though gently, for persisting in his attack,
instead of waiting for the expected reinforcement. While this
movement was operating on their left, Marshal Lannes made a
vigorous attack on the Prussian centre. The boldness of his ad-
vance made them shift their whole position. The action then
recommenced, and a now incident decided the fortune of the day.
The Emperor had left Marshal Auirereau at Mentz to collect the
regiments which had been sent back from Austerlitz to France,
and to fid! 'A' with what hn>\f he could. lie made such good
sp i d thai he arrive ! at Jena while the battle was going on. lie
did not pause a in iinent, but advanced through a lir-wo id in such
iner as to appear in the rear of the Prussian riirht, at the
iu>taut that Lannes was attacking it in front, e >mmencing a dis-
charge of muskotry b : "■ ■ the Prussians had time to n com
Buonaparte's columns seemed to meet together at tiie scene of
action as we sometimes see the clouds assembling from the differ-
cut points of heaven befjre a thunder-storm. This attack being
as determined as it was unexpected made the enemy's line waver.
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 311
The Emperor had but few cavalry with him, the main body be-
ing on the road to Naumburg ; but as soon as the oscillation was
observed in the Prussian ranks, they were sent forward and
ordered to charge with desperation. This movement succeeded
in preventing the Prussian army from rallying ; and the head of
Murat's cavalry just then coming up completed the disorder, and
united with the rest in pursuing the routed enemy on the road to
Weimar, along which they were escaping.
The Emperor from the spot where he stood, saw the flight of
the Prussians, and the French cavalry taking them by thousands.
Night was approaching ; and here, as at Austerlitz, he rode
round the field of battle. He often alighted from his horse to
give a little brandy to the wounded ; or placed his hand on the
breast of a soldier to feel if his heart beat or there was any
chance of life. His joy on such occasions was only checked by
the recollection of those he could not succor. If he found a
greater number of dead in one part of the field than another, he
looked at the buttons to ascertain the number of the regiment ;
and afterwards at the first review lie would question the men as to
the manner in which they had been attacked, and how the loss
had happened. He returned to pass the night at Jena, where he
received the professors of the University and rewarded the vicar
of that place for the attention he had shown to the sick and
wounded.
On the same day (the 14th of October) on which Napoleon
overthrew the Prince of Hohenloe in front of Jena, Davoust and
Bernadotte, in pursuance of their instructions, marched from
Naumburg by the Weimar road, on which the Prussian army
under the command of the King was advancing. Davoust was
in a great measure ignorant of the position of the enemy, but lie
had no sooner reached the summit of the hill, which if is neces-
sary to ascend after passing the stone-bridge over the Saale,
about a league from Naumbur«;, than he descried the Prussian
armv below. He immediately dispatched a messenger to Ber-
nadotte who was close behind him, and requested he would sup-
port him. Bernadotte insisted on taking the lead; and this not
being acceded to by the other, contrived not to act at all, pre-
tending to be in search of a passage somewhere higher up the
"30*
3M LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
river. Marshal Davoust attacked with an inferiority in numbers
of one to four. Scarcely was his Hue formed when he was as-
sailed by a cannonade and discharge of musquetry, which were
the mure furiously maintained, as the enemy thought they were
sure of destroying him : had it not been for his great courage and
firmness under lire, his troops must have been completely dis-
heartened. By three o'clock in the afternoon he had lost one-
third of his force, lie could only retain his men in the held by
showing himself everywhere. In vain his aide-de-camps hurried
to and fro to Bernadotte to urge him to move : he spent the whole
day in seeking a passage where none was to be found, and would
thus have allowed Davoust to be crushed, ila also contrived to
keep back the cavalry, over which he had no right of control.
Davoust was indebted to his great valor and to the confidence
placed in him by has troops, tor the glory he won on this day,
which was to him the most honorable that could be. Notwith-
standing the loss which he sustained, he took from the enemy
seventy pieces of cannon, and compelled him to a retreat. Had
he been supported by a body of cavalry, he might have taken a
great number of prisoners ; but that he had been able to keep
the field under such disadvantages, obtained him the admiration
of the whole army. The loss of the Prussians was considerable.
The Duke of Brunswick who was wounded, hastily retired to
Alt ma, where he soon after died. The King, on learning what
had befallen the Duke, made a movement to regain the Oder •
nor could Davoust from the want of cavalrv, obstruct the mo-
narch's retreat. Adjutant-General Romceuf, who brought the
report of the ati'air to the Kmperor at Jena, said nothing f the
absence of the cavalry nor of Bernadntte : s refusal to participate
in the action. \\ hen he had don<~ , ) Buonaparte asked him what
those troops had been doing during the conflict. Receiving no
explanation, he bit his lips, and was at no 1 >ss to understand that
something was amiss. \ et after this he made this man a sove-
reign. It would seem that as the \\ rid goes, magnanimity eon
tains the I its destrueti m in its own b i.som !
Prisoners poured into Jena the whole of the night; and among
them was almost the whole of the Saxon infautrv with several
generals. The Emperor had the officers assembled in a hail of
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 353
the University, and thus addressed them hy his interpreter :
" Saxons ! I am not your enemy, nor the enemy of your Elector.
I know that he has been obliged to aid the designs of Prussia.
You have fought ; and ill fortune has deprived you of your
liberty. If you have sincerely espoused the interests of Prussia,
you must share her fate ; but if you can assure me that your
sovereign has been constrained to take up arms against me, and
that he will seize this opportunity of resuming his natural policy,
1 will overlook the past, and will henceforth live on friendly terms
with him.'"' M. Pfuhl, a Saxon officer, undertook to go to Dres-
den with this proposal, and to bring an answer in two days; and
on receiving an assurance that it would be favorable, Buonaparte
gave the Saxon prisoners their liberty, who immediately set out
home by way of Leipsic. The Emperor then departed in an
open carriage for Weimar ; and at the top of the mountain,
called the. Snail, met a Prussian officer bearing a letter from the
King with a proposal for an armistice. This offer was not com-
plied with, because its only object was to remove the war from
his dominions into those of the allies of the French. Either from
the date of the King's letter, or by some other means, the French
general learned the situation of the Prussian army, and directly
ordered Bernadotte to force the passage of the Essen defended by
the Prince of Wurtemberg, and made Lannes march upon Er-
furt where the Prinee of Orange commanded, which shortly after
capitulated with a garrison of eighteen thousand men. This
town was also of importance, as it was a thoroughfare from the
army to Mentz. While at Weimar, the Emperor had an inter-
view with the Prussian general, Schmettau, an old aide-de-camp
of Frederic 1!. who had been wounded in the late battle, and
died in coti-equence soon after.
At Xaumburg Buonaparte learned from Davoust (with whom
he (.expressed his high satisfaction) the whole extent of Bernadotte's
misconduct just before. lie said, "If I were to bring him to a
court-martial, it would be equivalent to ordering him to be shot.
The best way is to overlook it. I do not think him so devoid of
honor as not to feel the shamefulness of his behavior, respecting
which I shall not fail to let him know my mind."' Buonaparte
could hardly have been a physiognomist to trust Bernadotte twice ;
356 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
for he must have seen him with stealthy eyes looking over his
high-arched nose, watching his own opportunities, and equally in-
diiierent to principle or sentiment ! On the road between Naum-
burg and Halle, the Emperor passed over the field of Rosbach.
He knew the ground so well that on approaching Rosbach, he
said to one of his aide-de-camps, pointing with his hand, " Gallop
on in that direction, and half a league off you will see the column
which the Prussians erected in commemoration of their victory
over us." When the whole of Europe was spread out in this man-
ner before Napoleon as in a map, it is not surprising he thought he
could lay his hands on it so easily. Tlie column was where he
had pointed it out, but no higher than a common-sized door-post;
and the' next thing was to order up some of Suchet's sappers to
have it conveyed on carriages to Paris. The whole army was
now approaching the Elbe. The bridge at Dessau had been
burnt by the Prince of Wurtemberg, whom Bernadotte was pur-
suing. The Emperor thought it possible to repair it; but finding
it would be a work of time, preferred crossing at Wittenberg, by
which a day was lost.
Half-way between Dessau and Wittenberg, Duroc who had
been sent on a secret mission to the King of Prussia, came to
meet the Emperor. The latter remained at Wittenberg two days,
while the' French effected the passage of the Elbe ; which they
did before the Prussians. Ney was charged with the blockade
of Magdeburg. Napoleon with the rest of the army advanced
towards Berlin by the Potsdam road, in order to dispute the pas-
sage of the Spree with the enemy, who were one or two marches
behind. It was about one in the afternoon when the army left
Wittenberg; and in passing through the suburbs, a storm of hail
came on. The Emperor alighted to obtain shelter, and entered
a house belonging to the keeper of the forests. He thought lie
was not known; and regarded merely as ordinary civility the
respectful manner in which he was received by two young women
in the apartment where he was. They appeared much surprised
and embarrassed, and one of them exclaimed aside, "Heavens!
it is the Emperor. 1 ' On inquiry, it turned out that she was the
widow of an officer who had been killed in Egypt, and that siie
recollected Buonaparte perfectly well, as he was not much altered,
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 357
as well as General Savary and General Berthier, who were with
him. She had been left with one son ; and in answer to a ques-
tion put to her on the subject, she ran upstairs and brought down
her marriage-contract. The Emperor was much pleased, and
exclaimed, " Par Dim! this is a curious meeting." He then
ordered Berthier to take down the names both of the mother and
the son. The storm being now over and the Emperor about to
depart, he said, " Well, Madame, as a memorial of this day, I
grant you an annual pension of 1200 francs, with the reversion
to your son." He then mounted his horse and setoff; and in the
evening signed the order for the widow's pension.
Napoleon passed the night within a short march of Potsdam.
He here learned that the Prussians had re-crossed the Elbe and
were making every exertion to regain the Oder towards Stettin.
He ordered Soult and Bernadotte to give them no rest. Ney
remained on the left bank of the Elbe to watch Mairdeburij, and
to see that the enemy, pressed hard by Soult and Bernadotte, did
not turn short that way. Spandau surrendered to Marshal Lannes
at the first summons; so that his corps, being left disposable, was
sent forward to the other side of the Spree. The Emperor
arrived at Potsdam in broad day, and went immediately to visit
the two palaces of Sans-Souci. He admired the beauty of the
larger palace and made some remarks on the site chosen for it,
which is so bleak and ungenial that the growth of every thing is
stunted. The little palace of Sans-Souci greatly interested him.
He examined the apartment of Frederic the Great, which is kept
with religious care. None of the furniture had been displaced;
and certainly splendor constituted no part of its value. The wri-
ting-table resembled those which may yet be seen in the offices
of tin 1 old French notaries : the inkstand and pens were still upon
it. Buonaparte opened several of the books which Frederic was
fond of reading, and which contained marginal notes in the king's
own hand, apparently written in no very good humor. lie or-
dered the d ior to be opened by which Frederic used to go down
to the terrace in the garden ; and also that which he passed
through, when he went to review his troops on the great sandy
plain near the palace. Every thing about this monarch appears to
have been dry and arid. He returned to Potsdam for the night..
oftS LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
where he forbade any one to occupy the private apartments be-
longing to the Queen. At Charlottenburg they found in a drawer
in one of her dressing-rooms a memorial drawn up by Dumouriez
for subduing the power of France. Certainly, there is no contain-
ing the French character within bounds, except by mixing it up
with the caput mortuum of legitimacy !
On the 21st of October, a month after his departure from Paris
Buonaparte entered Berlin. lie was on horseback, accompanied
by the guard and the whole of Davoust's corps, whom he chose
to be the first to enter the Prussian capital. The weather was
fine. Almost all the inhabitants of the city seemed to be out of
doors; and the windows were filled with ladies, who, though they
evinced considerable curiosity on the occasion, yet expressed the
profoundest grief in their countenances, and many were bathed
in tears. Pride, passion, patriotism, loyalty, all are human, and
have tears for their dearest loss : truth and freedom alone see
theirs with dry eves ! The Emperor alighted at the King's palace,
where he took up his abode. The troops were stationed on the
Custrin and Stettin roads, with the exception of the guard which
was quartered in Berlin. Buonaparte was up at four in the
morning, sending out scouts and parties of skirmishers in every
direction. One of these panics captured a flag of truce, from
whom it was discovered that he had loft Prince Ilohenloe at
New-Rupin preparing to depart for Prontzlau. on which the
Emperor directed the dragoons and the corps of Lannes to pro-
coed thither by forced inarches up the Havel. They reached
the bridge at Prentzlau a few hours before the head of the Prus-
sian column appeared on the opposite bank of the river. Botli
sides being very much fatitnied, a parley ensued. The Prussian
troop which was most in advance was a regiment belonging to
the King's guard, which supposing all lust, was very glad to
return to Berlin. An arrangement was proposed and concluded
on the spot. Prince Ilohenloe surrendered with all the troops
thai were with bin:, transferring to General Blucher the com-
mand of those which wen- too distant to be included in the capitu-
lation. The others were sent buck to Berlin. Prince Charles
of Mecklenburg, a younger hi': .'her of the Queen, having been
laken prisoner at Strelitz, was dismissed on his parole. Blucher
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 359
had rallied the wrecks of the Prince of Ilohcnloe's corps, and
added them to what remained of the army that fought against
Davoust. The King had withdrawn from this army, as soon as
the armistice had been refused. He took Magdeburg in his way
to Berlin, and thence directed his course to the Oder and after-
wards to Graudentz, where he ordered the bridge of boats over
the Vistula to be removed. He here learnt the surrender of his
army at Lubeck. Blucher had manoeuvred so as to draw Soult
and Bernadotte from Berlin ; and afterwards succeeded in giving
them the slip from the field of Wharen. He escaped from them
so completely that they did not reach till evening the positions
he had quitted in the morning. He passed through Schwerin
and gained Lubeck. He would have defended the bridge of
that place, but was overpowered. Driven to the last extremity
and destitute of ammunition, he at last capitulated and surren-
dered his troops prisoners of war.
On the arrival of the French at Berlin, possession was immedi-
ately taken of the post-office. The examination of the intercepted
correspondence was so skilfully managed that at first no suspicion
was entertained of the circumstance. In this way, a letter for-
warded to the care of the postmaster and addressed to the King,
was stopped. This letter was written and signed by the Prince of
Hatzfield, who had remained at Berlin. It contained a detailed
account of every thing which had occurred in the capital since the
King's departure, with a minute description of the French force,
corps by corps. As the letter was written by a prince, it was
laid before the Emperor, who appointed a court-martial to be
held to try the writer on a charge of giving secret information to
the Pruss : an government. On the order for the court-martial
being issued, the Prince was arrested. The court-martial met ;
but as the Emperor had not returned the original letter, the only
document on which the charge was founded, an application was
made for it through the major-general in the usual way. It so
happened that the Emperor had gone to some distance from Ber
hn to review one of Davoust's divisions. It was another fortunate
circumstance that on his return he stopped to pay a visit to the
old Prince Ferdinand, brother to Frederic II., so that it was late
before he cot home. These lucky incidents afforded the Princcaa
360 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of Hatzfield time to see Marshal Duroc, whom she had known
during his former visits to Berlin. The Marshal knew nothing
of the business ; and not being able to leave the palace, sent
General Savary to learn the particulars. He hastened back to
inform Marshal Duroc, that the life of the Prince was at stake,
and that it was necessary to procure the Princess an immediate
audience of the Emperor. lie had just then returned, and
meeting Duroc at the top of the stair-case with the Princess (who
had never quitted the spot) holding by Ids arm, he said. " \\ hat,
has something new occurred, Grand-Marshal V' — " Yes Sire."
said Duroc, and followed the Emperor into his cabinet. lie soon
came out and introduced the Princess. She knew not why her
husband had been arrested ; and in the simplicity of her dispo-
sition demanded justice of the Emperor fir the wrongs which she
supposed was done him. When she had finished, lie handed her
the letter written by her husband. Having run it over, she stood
motionless, and looked as if she had lost all sensation, but uttered
not a word. The Emperor said. •• Well Madam, is this a cal-
umny ? I leave you to judge.'"' The Princess, more dead than
alive, was going to answer with her tears, when Buonaparte took
the letter from her and said, •• Were it not for this letter, there
would be no proof against your husband." — "That is very true,"'
she replied. " but 1 cannot deny that it is his writing." — '• Well,"
said the Emperor, '• there is nothing to be done but to burn it ;"
and threw the letter into the fire. The Princess of Hatzfield
knew not what to do or say; but she spoke more feelingly by
her silence than the most eloquent orator could have done. Siie
retired quite happv, and soon saw her husband who was set at
libertv. The Emperor, sav those who knew him best, was on
this day as happy as the Princess of Hatzfield. Such was the
man. whose character venal writers labored to cover with the
slime and poison of their pen-;, in order to sink a cause which he
upheld bv the sword, and f was unassailable.
Prince Paul of Wurtemberg had joined the Prussians without
his father's consent : and was mad" a general and a prisoner al-
most at the same instant. Buonaparte took no oilier revenue of
him than not to receive him, and to send him back to Stuttgard.
Custrin and Stettin surrendered, as if they had fallen down be-
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 361
fore a name ; and at the same lime Magdeburg with a garrison
of iwonty-lhree thousand men, commanded by General Kleist,
surrendered to Ney, whose force was not much larger. It was
only in Silesia that a Prussian corps kept the field, where it was
opposed by Prince Jerome, to whom Buonaparte having been
lately reconciled with him had given the command of an army-
corps of Bavarians, Wurtemburghers, and other Confederate
troops. The diplomatic body (locked to Berlin, in the train of
victory ; but did little to bring about a peace. M. Talleyrand
in particular by a note which he presented (in which he took a
lively bird's-eye view of the whole political horizon) offended the
King of Prussia by requiring him to do what was not in his
power, namely, to compel England and Russia to make peace.
As men often grow desperate in desperate circumstances, the
more imperious the necessity became for coming to terms with
Napoleon, the more he seemed to shrink from it ; and when Du-
roc found him at Osteroele on the other side of the Vistula, he re-
jected the idea of an armistice altogether, alleging that " it was
now too late, and that he had thrown himself into the arms of the
Emperor of Russia, who had offered him his support." Buona-
parte gave up all further attempts at negociation, and forthwith
put himself into a condition to seek peace wherever he could find
the Russians. While at Berlin, the Emperor received a deputa-
tion from the French Senate, complimenting him on his astonish-
ing success, but recommending him to put a period to his victories
by a peace. This vexed him : and he returned for answer that
before they recommended him to make peace, they might at least
have inquired on which side the obstacles to it lay, or have sent
the means along with the flattering hope of forcing the Prussians
or the Russians, with whom the former had now leagued, to con-
clude it with him. This was the first manifestation of that spirit
of idle cavilling or of what Buonaparte afterwards denounced as
the spirit of ideology, which began to take a surfeit of success
in which it. did not play a principal part, and which was looking
at abstract principles when it should have been attending to cir-
cumstances, and at circumstances when it should have been
guided by abstract principles. The Emperor had sent to Itaiv
for the Polish general Dombrouski to join him at Potsdam J;
vol. n. 17 31
362 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
was not till after the refusal of Prussia to sign the armistice, that
he thought seriously of creating a diversion in his favor in Po-
land. Fresh troops arrived from France, with which Marshal
Mortier marched against the Hanse-towns ; and was master of
the sh»" Q s of the Baltic before the Emperor was ready to com-
mence operations in Lithuania. The two remaining fortresses of
Ilameln and Nieuburg also fell into the hands of the French by
a kind of giddiness or vertigo, by which strong-places at this
lime took it into their heads to surrender almost at discretion, and
without striking a single blow. The commanders have been ac-
cused of treachery and collusion, without attending to the effect
which a general panic and course of disaster has on the mind.
A great authority has said, " Men's judgments are a parcel of
their fortunes ;" and the example of cities surrendering, armies
beaten, and kings flying from their capitals, might relax the si-
news of war into a very ague-fit, even in a veteran soldier,
without the imputation of bribery, indifference, or premeditated
treachery. Cowardice is epidemic as well as courage ; and the
spark of patriotism is either kindled or extinguished by common
consent. In Ilameln were found fifteen stand of colors embroid-
ered by the fairest hands that Prussia could boast, adorned with
martial emblems, and presented to their lovers in the hope of a
different fate. Have the women in France no embroidering
frames ? Neither lovers nor a country ?
Buonaparte was on this occasion longer absent from Paris than
on any other since his return from Fgypt (being detained by the
two campaigns, first with Prussia in 180G and then with Russia
:""i ISO?) — and it may not he an improper place to describe his
inner of life when with the army. It was simple and without
.now. Every individual, of whatever rank, had permission to
approach and speak to him of his affairs. He listened, questioned,
H-iid gave an answer on the spot : if it was a refusal, there was a
.--usni) assigned for it, and it was done in a way to soften the pain
• > a dmial. It was a sp%:tacle to excite the highest admiration
■ see the common soldier quit the ranks, when his regiment was
drawn out before the Emperor, and advancing with a grave mea-
sured step, and presenting arms, come close up to him. Napo-
eon never failed to take his petition, read it through, and grant
BATTLE OF JENA AND ENTRANCE INTO BERLIN. 363
its just demands. This noble privilege which he afforded to fidel-
ity and courage gave each soldier a strong sense of his rights and
of his duties, while it served as a curb to check the humors of the
superior officers who might be tempted to abuse their trust. Th**
simplicity of the maimers and character of the Emperor wae
chiefly remarkable on these marching days when the cannon
were for a short time silent. Constantly on horseback in the
midst of his generals and of his aide-de-camps, of the officers of his
household, or of the youthful and valiant elite of the officers of
artillery, his gaiety and goo 1-humor had an influence on all around
him. Often he gave directions to halt, and would seat himself
under a tree by the road-side with the Prince of Neufchatel.
The provisions for the march were spread out before him ; and
every one, from the page to the highest officers, found by one
means or other what was necessary for his refreshment. It was
a sort of fete for the whole party. Napoleon by banishing from
his private concerns any shadow of intrigue, and bv judging al-
ways for himscif, had inspired all those belonging to him with
sentiments of affection, of union, and zeal in his service which
rendered their intercourse extremely agreeable. Such was the
frugality of Napoleon that he gave the preference by choice to
the simplest viands and to those which were least highly seasoned
— as for example : eggs au miroir, beans dressed as a salad.
Either of these two dishes, with a small quantity of Parmesan
cheese, was what his breakfast generally consisted of. At dinner
lie ate little, seldom tasting made-dishes, and always choosing the
w'nolesoinest. lie used to repeat that " however small a quantity
of food we took, we always took more than enough." Bv this
means, his head was always clear, and his work easy to him,
even alter rising from table. Gifted by nature with a sound and
excellent stomach, his nights were calm as those of an infant;
and his constitution agreed so well with his situation, that a single
hour of sleep repaired the exhaustion occasioned bv four-and-
twentv hours of fatigue. In the midst of emergencies the most
critical and urgent, he had tin: power of going to sleep volun-
tarily ; and his mind recovered the most perfect calm, from the
instant that the measures which the' actual circumstances re-
nuked were determined on. All the hours oi' the dav were devoted
5M LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to employment, even when lie was with the army. Did he cease
for a moment to consult his maps, to meditate the plan of his
battles, and to study the immense combinations which it was neces-
sary to arrange in order to put in motion (with mathematical pre-
cision) masses of four or five hundred thousand men, then he busied
himself with the interior administration of the Empire. Several
times in the week an auditor from the Council of State arrived at
head quarters, charged with the portfolios of the different .Minis-
ters : never was the labor deferred till the morrow ; in the course
of the same day the whole was examined, signed, and sent oiF:
every thing marched abreast. The days that followed a battle
were devoted to receiving the reports of the different corps of the
army, connecting together the detached circumstances, allotting
to every one the share of glory to which he was entitled, and
drawing up those masterly bulletins which are a model of military
eloquence. It was singular enough that these bulletins, sent to
Paris to be published, were read and admired by all France, be-
fore they reached the army, who knew nothing of their contents
till the arrival of the newspapers from the capital. They have
been accused of exaggeration : but events sufficiently proved their
truth. Armies do not fly nor cities fall down before the columns
of a gazette. The personalities against the queen of Prussia have
been complained of as showing a want of gallantry ; but the pro-
vocation was extreme, and the opportunity not to be missed for
paying off the abuse and contumely of which Buonaparte was him-
self the unceasing butt for twentv years. Still it would have
been better, had he abstained from recriminating, in a moment of
victory, on a woman and a queen — a handsome and spirited one
too ; but perhaps the air of the palaces of Potsdam and Berlin was
not very favorable to sentiments of gallantry.
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC., AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 365
CHAPTER XXX V II I.
BATTLES OF EYLAU AND FRIEDLAND, AND PEACE OF TILSIT.
It was from Berlin that Buonaparte dated the famous decrees
of the 21st of November, 180G, interdicting all commerce be-
tween Great Britain and the rest of Europe, which was the com-
mencement of the well-known Continental System, which he re-
sorted to as the only means of crushing the power and hostility
of England, and the attempt to enforce which (almost as it were
against the nature of things) in the end proved fatal to himself.
Buonaparte reasoned in this manner with himself — that it was
incumbent on him to destroy the power and influence of Great
Britain — that there was no other way of doing it but by excluding
her completely from the ports of the Continent — and that there-
fore this was the means to which it was necessary to have re-
course in order to arrive at the indispensable object. But noth-
ing is necessary in human affairs that is not possible; and to
attempt a remedy for that which is placed out of our reach by
fortune, is only to make bad worse. Nothing could alter the
moral condition of England but the striking at her physical re-
sources ; and these from her insular situation were invulnerable
in the ordinary course of events. There, however. England was
in the map; and there let her remain to do all the mischief she
could! If his armies could not march across the sea. neither
could her fleets come upon the land. This was enough ; any
thing beyond was will, not reason. If he could get all the .-tales
of Europe to come into his system, and only one hell out, that
would be sufficient to defeat it; if they all could be prevailed
on to come into it (which would be difficult considering the pri-
vations and losses it must occasion), would they all keep to it?
Even if this were the case with the governments, no advance
would be made towards the grand object: a single harbor, a
31 *
3G8 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
smuggler s cave, a creek, a crevice would serve to let in so
subtle a thing as commerce, just as the smallest leak lets the
water into the hold of a vessel. The means were disproportioned
to the end. The whole power and resources of France must be
strained to their utmost pitch, and called forth not against an im-
posing mass and once for all, but must be brought to bear at
every moment, and in every point of the compass, against the
most petty, harassing, and evanescent opposition, Af.er throw-
ing the net of his policy and the ramifications of his vast system
of restraint and exclusion over the Lion of British commerce, a
mouse, a Norway rat would bite the curds in two. It was only
his immense influence, his prodigious energy, and a resolution
steeled against remonstrance or disappointment, that could have
made his scheme at all feasible or formidable to others : yet. in
spite of these, it failed. Nothing short of absolute power could
have carried it into practical effect ; and with respect to moral
or political causes, absolute power is a mere name. As to the
complaints urged by the French ruler against the encroachments,
the insolence, and rapacity of England as a maritime power,
nothing could be more just; but they need not have excited any
surprise, except in contrast with the high character which we
give of ourselves, and which makes others a little sore and impa-
tient when they find out the truth. On the other hand, with re-
spect to the inconsistencies between the maritime and military
cedes of warfare, though glaring and revolting they seem in a
great measure to arise out of the nature of the service itself (the
one having to do with fixed masses, the other with floating frag-
ments) though not altogether so. Thus there seems no reason
whv a merchant-vessel in an enemy's harbor should be confis-
cated the instant war is declared, while a convoy of merchan-
dise bv land is suffered to go free and return to enrich that very
enemv. The property here is not fixed and at any time accessi-
ble, but moveable, as in the other case. Again, if the property
of the private citizen at sea is mad- lawful spoil, as the only
means which the stronger party has of gaining an advantage over
the weaker, yet there is no reason why the unarmed citizen
should be made prisoner in his own person, which can only be
prejudicial to himself, except under tiie idea of his being held to
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT 36",
ransom, according to the obsolete custom of barbarous warfare.
If it be with a view to exchange the peaceful prisoner with the
soldier taken in battle, then there is the same ground for detain-
ing travellers in a country, or others whom we have in our power,
to increase the number of hostages. There is no doubt that the
state of the maritime code (which either for good or bad reasons
approaches nearer the usages of barbarous times than the mili-
tary) might admit of revision and amelioration in many respects ;
and if Buonaparte may be supposed from circumstances or pecu-
liar irritation to have taken a prejudiced view of the subject,
we can hardly set ourselves up as impartial judges of the
question.
Hamburgh was the first place that felt by anticipation the blow
that was about to be aimed at British commerce. Marshal Mor-
tier, towards the middle of November, formally re-occupied Han-
over; and marching upon Hamburgh, took possession of that
ancient free-town, so long the emporium of the commerce of the
north of Europe. The strictest search was made for British
commodities and property, which were declared the lawful sub-
ject of confiscation — with what success it is difficult to make out
between the outcries of the English merchants at the meditated
injury (as if they were the most aggrieved set of people upon
earth) and their subsequent boastings of having outwitted their
adversaries. Hcsse-Cassel was taken from the Elector, who was
known to be decidedly hostile to France ; and with various pro-
vinces of Prussia and the conquered territories of the Duke of
Br mswiek was erected into the kingdom of Westphalia, and
given to Jerome Buonaparte. Much lias been said of Buona-
parte's treatment of the Duke of Brunswick, who died about this
tini" at Altona : and it seems to have been agreed by certain
writers that the French bullets ought to have spared him ; first
because he was the father-in-law of the heir-apparent of the
British crown ; and secondly, as being the author of the memor-
able Manifesto against the French nation in the year lT'J'i. On
the contrary, if there was any one reproach, any one indignity
more galling than another that could be heaped upon his tomb or
on his death-bed. that one ought to have been heaped upon it. Oh
no! let not the outrage and contumely be all on one side — the for-
3G8 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
giveness and forbearance all on the other. What! we are to >e
treated with the cold, defecated malice of fiends, and we are to
return it with nothing but the milk of human kindness and the
pitying smiles of angels. Those who have cherished but ona
feeling all their lives, that of hunting down the liberties and hap-
piness of mankind, cannot come with their latest breath to beg
a little charity and mercy. To give no quarter to human nature
is to expect none from it. But Ins son never forgave his father's
death, and revenged it by the Black Brunswickers in 1815. But
his father was not the only one by many millions who fell victims
in that ruthh ss struggle which the Duke of Brunswick's Mani-
festo proclaimed to the world, and to the spirit that animated it.
Buonaparte is blamed for having alluded to this. lie would have
been a dastard if he had not. So! 1806 was to be paid home,
but 1792 forgotten. There is no equality in that. Let the circle
of revenge go round : only let it be; understood that the hatred is
reciprocal, deadly, and implacable on both sides!
Buonaparte had a fine opportunity at this time of rebutting
the odium and cavils to which he exposed himself by his treat-
ment of the petty princes of German , and of establishing his
popularity, had he made common cause with Poland. That
name " pleaded trumpet-tongued : ' against the iniquity of the
old governments of Europe, and laughed to scorn all their
alleeted appeals to moderation and justice. A light went before
it. a (lame followed after it ; from which Buonaparte shrunk, as
the one pointed out and the other embraced consequences of
which he could hardly control the issues. lie hesitated to lay
his hands on that engine of power which was contained in the
degradation and oppression of Poland, and to give it full scope,
because though it was a means to crush bis antagonists, it mighl
in the end recoil upon himself. Honesty would probably here, as
in so many cases, have been the best policy : and the broad prin-
ciples of liberty and justice the safest ground for him to tread
upon. But Buonaparte was fonder of organizing than of enian-
cinatiii'i : and even if lie bad restored to Poland the inheritance
of freedom, would have liked to retain the management of it in
his own hands. I lis lukewarmness or circumspection cost him
dear, bill it was not his mo.-t prominent characteristic to truat
BATTLE'S OF E x'^AU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 369
with implicit faith to those moral tendencies which act by their
own spontaneous and expansive force ; or in other words, the
greatness of Ins capacity consisted rather in combining num-
berless positive means to the same end than in wielding the
simplest elements to the production of the most widely-extended
results. Besides, he was implicated with Austria on one side,
and averse to provoke the lasting enmity of Russia on the
other; and all he did was to erect Prussian Poland into a sort of
independence under the title of the Duchy of Warsaw with the
newly-created King of Saxony at its head, and to talk from time
to time of the liberation of the Poles.
" The partition of this fine kingdom by its powerful neigh-
bors" (says a great and admired writer, whose testimony in be-
half of liberty is the more to be valued as it is rare) " was
the first open and audacious transgression of the law of nations
which disgraced the annals of civilized Europe. It was executed
by a combination of three of the most powerful states of Eu-
rope against one too unhappy in the nature of its constitution,
and too much divided by factions, to offer any eifcctual resis-
tance. The kingdom subjected to this aggression had appealed
in vain to the code of nations for protection against an out-
rage, to which, after a desultory and uncombiv,ed and there-
lore a vain defence, she saw herself under a necessity of sub-
mitting. The Poles retained too a secret sense of their fruit-
less attempt to recover freedom in 1791, and an animated recol-
lection of the violence by which it had been suppressed by the
Russian arms. They waited with hope and exultation the ap-
proach of the French armies; and candor must allow, that un-
lawfully subjected as they had been to a foreign yoke, they had a
right to avail themselves of the assistance not only of Napoleon,
but of Mahomet or of Satan himself, had he proposed to aid them
in regaining the independence of which they had been oppress-
ivelv and unjustly deprived." This, if not elegant, is full and
plain, and goes to prove that if the Poles had a right to call in
Buonaparte for the recovery or maintenance u? their indeper
deuce, the French must at all times have had a still greater right
to do so.
Buonaparte had obtained by a decree of the Senate in the month
" 17*
370 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of October 1800, a new levy of eighty thousand men ; and wad
in a condition to push the war with vigor, and to a decisive ter-
mination. The French, having made themselves masters of the
Prussian provinces to the east of the Oder, had laid siege to the
fortresses of Glogau, Breslau, and Graudentz, and were advan-
cing to occupy Poland. The Russian General, Benigsen, had on
nis side come as far as Warsaw in the hope of aiding the Prus-
sians ; hut finding that they had scarcely the remnant of an army
to bring into the field, he had recrossed the Vistula, leaving the
capital of Poland to be entered on the 28th of November by
Murat at the head of the French vanguard. About the same
time, Napoleon leaving Berlin had fixed his head-quarters at
Posen, a centrical town in Poland, which country was beginning
to manifest considerable agitation. The Poles in many instances
resumed their ancient national dress and manners, and sent dep-
uties to urge the decision of Buonaparte in their favor. The
language in which they entreated his interposition, resembled that
of Oriental idolatry. '• The Polish nation," said Count Radyi-
minski, the Palatine of Gnesna, " presents itself before your Ma-
jesty, groaning still under the German yoke, and hails with the
purest joy the regenerator of their beloved country, the legislator
of the universe. Full of submission to your will, they oiler you
their homage, and repose on you with confidence all their hopes,
as upon him who has the power of raising empires and of destroy-
ing them and of humbling the proud." The address of the Pre-
sident of the Council-Chamber of the Regency of Poland was
equally sanguine and high-flown. " Already," he said. " we see
our dear country saved ; for in your person we revere the most
just and most, profound Solon. We commit our fate and our
hopes into your hands ; and we implore the mighty protection of
the most auioist Ciesar." Napoleon received these hyperbolical
compliments, which Freedom poured forth in its anguish and in
its abject state, with complacency ; but they drew from him no
direct or explicit declaration of his final intentions. For my own
pari, his equivocal and calculating policy with regard to Poland
gives me a worse opinion of him than all he did to Spain. The
■>ne indicated a want of virtue or of any love for freedom ; the
other only showed a contempt for vice and for the dotage of sl»
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. A2S D PEACE OF TILSIT. 37 1
very and superstition. The last might be pardonable in the phi-
losopher and the politician ; the first was neither consistent with
the character of the philanthropist nor the sage.
Meanwhile, Warsaw was put into a state of defence ; and *-h<»
auxiliary troops of Saxony and the new confederates of the Rhinr
were brought up by regular marches, while repeated reinforce-
ments from France repaired the losses of the former part of the
campaign. The French army at length advanced in full strength,
and crossed successively the Vistula and the Bug. Benigsen,
whose object it was not to give battle to numbers superior to his
own, retreated behind the Wkra, where he was joined by the
troops of Generals Buxhowden and Kaminskoi, the latter of whom,
a contemporary of Suwarrow, assumed the chief command. On
the 25th of December, 1806, the army of Benigsen took up a
position behind Pultusk ; their left, commanded by Count Oster-
mann, resting upon the town which stands on the river Narew,
the bridge of which was well defended. The right under Bar-
clay de Tolly, was strongly posted in a wood ; the centre was
under the orders of General Z:.chen. A plain between the town
of Pultusk and the wood was filled with cavalry. On the 20th,
the Russian position was attacked by the divisions of Lanncs and
Davoust, together with all the French guards. After skirmishing
for some time, the French assembling in great force on their left
made a determined effort to overwhelm the Prussians by turning
their right wing. Barclay de Tolly was obliged to fall back on
his reserve, while the French seized upon the wood and took sev-
eral guns. Benigsen, however, in spite of Kaminskoi's order to
retreat, resolved to abide the brunt of the battle ; for which pur-
pose, desiring Barclay de Tolly to continue his retreat, he suf-
fered the French to advance in pursuit, till the cavalry, who had
covered the manoeuvre, suddenly withdrawing, a battery of a
hundred and twenty guns, extending along the whole Russian
front, played on the advancing columns of the French. The
Russian line now coming forward occupied the ground from
which they had been before driven. The approach of night
ended the combat, which was both obstinate and bloody. Great
numbers were killed on both sides: Marshal Lannes was wounded
'.n the action.
372 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
The battle of Pultu.sk raised the reputation of Benigsen and
the spirits of the Russians, who thought it a great thing to have
checked the advance of the French. Both Benigsen, however,
and Prince Galitzin, who had fought the same day at Golyrnin,
were compelled to unite their forces and fall back on Ostrolcnka,
for fear of being surrounded. Kaminskoi, whose conduct had for
some time been capricious and unaccountable, now showed evi-
dent signs of derangement, and was superseded by Benigsen.
This general made a demonstration towards Graudentz and Kon-
igsberg, where the King of Prussia was cooped up and menaced
with the gradual approaches of Ncy and Bcrnadotte. He suc-
ceeded so far by tins diversion as to enable the Prussian general
L'Estocq to throw reinforcements and provisions into the former
place. On the 25th of January, 1807, Buonaparte left his winter-
quarters at Warsaw, and collected his army at Willenburg, in
the rear of Benigsen's corps, who was then at Mohringen, watched
by Bernadotte on the other side, to whom Buonaparte had sent
orders to bring him to action and draw him on to the Vistula, thus
intending to turn the Russians here as he had done the Austrians
at Ulm and the Prussians at Jena. Napoleon was advancing
close upon the Russian rear, when a dispatch intercepted by a
troop of Cossacks betrayed his design ; and Benigsen, alarmed in
time, fell back precipitately upon Allenstein, which place he
evacuated at night to .avoid a battle, tie then proceeded by Dep-
peu and Landsberg to Preuss-Eylau, where he arrived after
various skirmishes on the evening of the 7th of February, and
where he waited on the outside of the town to give the French
army battle the next day. Jt was intended by the Russian gene-
ral to leave a guard to occupy the town; but this having been
neglected, it was resolved to scud a detachment to drive the
French from it. who wore come up by this time, and in whose
possession after a severe and doubtful conflict it. remained fir the
night. Barclay de Tolly was wounded while leading his troops
to the assault.
The position of the two armies the next day may be described
as follows : — The Russian troops occupied a space of uneven
ground, about two miles in length and a mile in depth, with the
village of Serpallen on their left : they were in front of the towy
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TiLSIT. 373
of Preuss-Eylau, situated in a hollow and in possession of the
French. Napoleon had fixed his head-quarters- here. Davoust
with the third corps had proceeded three leagues to the right lo
engage a Russian column which was on the Alio, and to turn the
left of the enemy's line. The fourth corps bivouacked in advance
to the right and left of the town : — the Guard in the second line,
the seventh corps under Augereau and the reserves of heavy cav-
alry in the third line. The space between the two armies was
open and fiat, and intersected with frozen lakes, on which the
watch-lights threw their pale gleams the whole of the preceding
night. On the following day (the 8th) at day-break, the Rus-
sians commenced the attack on the French centre, by endeavor-
ing to carry Eylau ; but were repulsed with a dreadful carnage
on both sides. The Guard maintained its position and kept up an
unabated lire during the day. About noon, a heavy storm of
snow began to fall, which the wind drove right in the faces of the
Russians, and which added to the obscurity caused by the smoke
of the burning village of Serpallen. Buonaparte was on the top
of the church of Eylau ; and amidst a shower of grape and balls
that fell on every side, ordered Augereau to advance with the
seventh corps, which it did by taking a diverging direction, and
was close upon the enemy before it was perceived, owing to the
thickness of the atmosphere. Benigsen brought up his reserves
in person to oppose it, when a sanguinary conflict ensued, in
which Augercau's troops suffered more that day than all the rest
of the army. At this time the third corps, commanded by Da-
voust, came up (following a Russian column that had retreated
fighting all the way from the Alle) and formed nearly at right
angles with Benigsen's troops. On the arrival of Davoust, that
general commenced his retreat, though in good order, and aban-
doned the field of battle, which the third corps occupied about five
in the evening. Ney was not in the engagement, but about two
leagues off. at the village of Sloditten, on the road to Konigsberg
Both lie and Bernadotte came up in the course of the night, a' d
were ready to have taken part in the battle, had the Russian Gen-
eral boon disposed to renew it the next dav. A council of war
was held to deliboate on the point without dismounting from their
norses ; the mote sanguine among the leaders, Tolstov and the
374 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Prussian L'Estocq who had come up with reinforcements towards
the close of the jay, were for attacking the French again on trie
morrow: hut Benigsen did not think himself warranted in risking
a second action with an army diminished hy twenty thousand
men in killed or wounded, short of ammunition and totally desti-
tute of provisions. The Russians accordingly that very night
commenced their retreat on Konigsberg, where the King of Prus-I
sia was. Buonaparte did not move after them : his own loss was
enough to give him pause, which he estimates at eighteen thou-
sand men. The Russians had certainly made the utmost resist-
ance that unshrinking hardihood could oppose to skill and valor
united. It was a new kind of warfare, and they had shown that
they were only to he beaten, by being hewn in pieces like logs
of wood. The victor had triumphed over the civilized part of
Europe : he had now to consider what obstacles barbarism had in
store for him. An army that had the power of inflicting all the
mischiefs of war on others, hut was utterly insensible to them
itself, regarding neither suffering, danger, nor death, must he
very formidable; and to this description the Russian troops ap-
proached as nearly as could well be desired. This first encoun-
ter with them might have taught greater caution : but the reasons
for caution, as they thwart the will, are often only motives to
temerity. To show that Buonaparte was aware of the new diffi-
culties he had to grapple with, in his next battle (that of Fried-
land) he used all his resources of art and stratagem to secure the
advantage to himself before he commenced it.
The battle of Prouss-Eylau was claimed as a victory by both
parties, though it was only comparatively that it was not a defeat
to the Itussians. Buonaparte remained for eight days on the
field of battle, in the course of which he dispatched a messenger
to the King of Prussia, proposing an armistice on terms more
favorable than had been ollered after the battle of Jena. But
favorable terms were not those to which the sovereigns of Europe
were disposed to accede : they could only be compelled to sign
the inosl desperate ones, in circumstances the most desperate.
The King therefore remained firm to his ally, the Emperor of
tlussia : and refusing to listen to any oilers of a separate peace,
■ietormined once more to try his fortune to the utmost. On the
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 375
19th of February, Napoleon evacuated Preuss-Eylau, and retired
upon the Vistula. The first thing he did, preparatory to a new
campaign, was to order the siege of Dantzic, from whence very
dangerous operations might take place in his rear, should he again
advance into Poland without reducing it. The siege was there-
fore formed without delay. The place was defended by General
Kalkreuth to the last extremity. After many unsuccessful at-
tempts to relieve it, Dantzic finally surrendered towards the end
of May, 1807, trenches having been opened before it for fifty-two
days. This event enabled Buonaparte to unite the besieging
troops, twenty-five thousand strong, to his main army, and to pre-
pare, Lo summer advanced, to resume offensive operations. He
also raised the siege of Colberg, drew the greater part of his forces
out of Silesia, ordered a new levy in Switzerland, urged the
march of bodies of troops from Italy ; and to complete his means,
demanded a new conscription for the year 1803, which was in-
stantly complied with by the Senate. A large levy of Poles was
made at the same time ; and they, with other light troops of the
French, were employed in making bold excursions, often ex-
changing blows with straggling parlies of Cossacks. The Rus-
sian army had, in the mean time, received reinforcements, though
they were still deficient in numerical force, their whole strength
not amounting to more than ninety thousand men ; while Buona-
parte, by unparalleled exertions, had assembled upwards of two
hundred thousand between the Vistula and Memel. This negli-
gence on the part of the Russian government to recruit its force
is said to have been owing to the poverty of its finances ; and
(what is still more remarkable) to the refusal of the British Min-
istry to negociate a loan of six millions, and advance one million
to account, thereby giving great offence to the Emperor Alex-
ander.
The Russians were the assailants, making a combined move-
ment on Ney's division, which was stationed near Gustadt. They
pursued him as far as Deppen ; but upon the 8th of June, Na-
poleon advanced in person to extricate his Marshal, and Benigsen
was obliged to retreat in his turn. As to the share which the
Cossacks had in these skirmishes it was as yet very trilling. The
Russian army fell back upon Hedsberg, where concentrating
376 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
their force, they made a very desperate stand. A very hard-
fought action here took place, the battle continuing till the ap-
proach of midnight ; and when the morning dawned, the space
of ground between the Russian and French lines was not merely
strewed, but literally choked up with the bodies of the dead and
wounded. The Russians retired unmolested after the battle of
Ilcilsberg ; and crossing the river Aller, placed the barrier be-
tween them and the army of Buonaparte, which though it had
suffered considerable losses, had been less atfected by them than
the Russian army. On the 13th Benigsen with his Russians
arrived opposite Friedland, a large town on the west side of the
Aller, communicating with the eastern or right bank of the river
by a long wooden bridge. It was the object of Napoleon to in-
duce the Russian general to pass by this narrow bridge to the
left bank, and then to draw him into a general action, in a posi-
tion where the difficulty of defiling through the town and over the
bridge must render retreat almost impracticable. For this pur-
pose he showed such a proportion only of his forces as induced
General Benigsen to believe that the French troops consisted
chiefly of Oudinot's division, which had been severely handled in
the battle of Ileilsberg, and which he now hoped altogether to de-
stroy. Under this deception he ordered a Russian division to
pass the bridge, defile through the town, and march to the as-
sault. The French took care to offer no such resistance as
should intimate their real strength. Benigsen was thus led to re-
inforce the first division with another — the battle thickened, and
the Russian general at leng-h transported all his army, one divi-
sion excepted, to tli" loft, bank of the Aller, by means of the
wooden bridge and three pontoons, and drew them up in front of
the town of Friedland, to overwhelm, as he supposed, the crip-
pled division of the French, to which alone Ik; conceived him-
self opposed.
Hut no sooner had he taken this irretrievable step than the
mask was dropped. The French skirmishers advanced in force,
heavy columns of infantry began to show themselves from a
wood that had hitherto conceded them ; batteries of cannon
were got into position ; and all circumstances concurred, with
the report of prisoners, to assure Benigsen that he with his en-
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 37"
feebled troops was in presence of the whole French army. His
nosition, a sort of plain, surrounded by woods and rising grounds,
was difficult to defend: with the town and a large river in the
rear, it was dangerous to attempt a retreat, and to advance was
out of the question from the inferiority of his force. Benig-
sen now became anxious to resume his communication with Weh-
lau. a town on the Pregel, which was his original point of retreat,
and where he hoped to join the Prussians under General L'Es-
toeq. To secure this object, he found himself obliged to d ;
minish his forces still more by sending six thousand men to de
fend the bridge at Allerberg, some miles lower down the river,
and with what he had left, resolved as well as he could to main
tain his position till night. The French advanced to the attack
about ten in the forenoon. The broken and woody country which
they occupied, enabled them to continue or renew their efforts at
pleasure, while the Russians, in their confined situation, could
not make the slightest movement without being observed. Yet
they fought with the most determined bravery, insomuch that to-
wards noun the French seemed sickening of the combat and about
to retire. But this was only a feint, to repose such of their
troops as had been most warmly engaged and to bring up fresh
succors. The cannonade continued till about half-past four, when
Buonaparte brought up his full force in person for the purpose of
one of those desperate and overwhelming efforts to which he was
wont to trust the decision of a doubtful day. Columns of enor-
mous power and extensive depth appeared partly visible amona
the openings of the wooded country ; and seen from the town of
Friedland, the hapless Russian army looked as if surrounded bv
a deep semi-circle of glittering steel. The attack upon the whole
line, with cavalry, infantry, and artillery, was general and simul-
taneous, the French moving on witli shouts of assured victory :
while the Russians, weakened by the loss of not less than twelve
thousand killed and wounded, were obliged to attempt that most
dispiriting ami hazardous of all movements — a retreat through en-
cumbered defiles in front of a victorious army. The principal
attack was directed on the left wing, where the Russian positior
was again forced. The troops which composed it streamed i rite
he town, and crowded the bridge and pont > ns ; the enemy thurj
S78 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
dered on their roar; and it was only the desperation with which
the soldiers of the Russian Imperial Guard turned and charged at
the point of the bayonet the corps of Ney, which led the French
van guard, that prevented the total destruction of the left wing.
At the same' time, the bridge and pontoons were set on lire to
prevent the French who had made their way into the town from
taking possession of them. The smoke rolling over the combat-
ants increased the horror and confusion of the scene ; vet a con-
siderable part of the Russian infantry escaped by a ford close to
the town, which was discovered at the moment of defeat. The
Russian centre and right, which remained on the west bank of the
Aller, effected a retreat by a circuitous route, leaving the town
of Friedland on their right, and passing the Aller by a ford a
good way lower down the river. The two divisions of the Rus-
sian army which bad been separated were thus enabled to unite
once more on the right of the Aller, and pursue their disastrous
flight towards Wehlau. Either the destruction of the bridge or
perhaps motives of policy prevented Buonaparte from pursuing
the remains' of the Russian army.
The most important consequences resulted from this victory,
not less decisive in the event than admirable in its conception.
Konigsberg was evacuated by the King of Prussia and Ids forces,
as it was evidently no longer tenable. Benigson retreated to Til-
sit on the Russian frontier. But what was the object most desired
by Xapoloon, it had the effect of disposing the Fmperor Alexander
to peace. A door to reconciliation had been studiously kept open
by Xapoloon between the (V.ar and himself, towards whom he ab-
stained from every kind of indiscreet porsonalifv, throwing out
more than one hint that a peace which should divide the world
between them, was at anv time at Alexander's option. The time
had at last arrived wh-n the hitter seemed inclined to listen to
t'Tins of accommodation with Franco. ffe had boon previously
dissatisfied with his allies, who were either fe bio or unfortunate.
I in si m iiiarchs to >. be was not withoul - mie <• iinpunction
'{ )•: the extreme suili ■ riu lts of his subjects. His aniiv had been a
favorite object of his attention : and ho was shocked to see his
fine regiment of guards (proud as he had been of them) retain
scarcely a vestige of tie ir firmer numbers or appearance. The
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 379
influence of Napoleon's name, coupled with corresponding deeds,
might also have had its effect on the youthful imagination of
the Russian Emperor, who was not himself without pretensions
(o the heroic character, and therefore might hi 1 supposed to esteem
it in others ; and who might feci his pride soothed to find that the
predestined victor who had suhdued so many princes was willing
to acknowledge an equality with him.
The Emperor of Russia's wish for an armistice was first hinted
at hy Benigsen on the 21st of June, was acceded to on the 23d,
and was soon after followed not only by peace with Russia and
Prussia on a basis which bid fair to preclude the possibility of
future misunderstanding, but by the formation of a personal inti-
macy and apparent friendship between Napoleon and the only sov-
ereign in Europe who had the power necessary to treat with him
upon a proper footing. The armistice was no sooner agreed upon
than preparations were made for an interview between the two
sovereigns. It took place upon a raft moored in the middle of the
river Niemcn, and on which was fixed a large tent or pavilion
fitted up for the occasion. At half-past nine, 25th of June, 1807,
the two Emperors, in the midst of thousands of spectators, em-
harked at the same moment from the opposite banks of the river.
Buonaparte was attended by Murat, Berthier, Bessieres, Duroc,
and Caulaincourt; Alexander by his brother the Archduke Con-
stantine, Generals Benigsen and Ouwarrow, with the Count de
Lieven, one of his aides-de-camp. Arriving at the raft, they dis-
embarked and embraced amidst the shouts and acclamations of
both armies; and entering the pavilion which had been prepared,
held a private conference of two hours. Their officers, who
remained at some distance during the interview, were then recip-
rocally introduced ; and the fullest good understanding seemed
to he established between the sovereigns who had at their dispo-
sal so large a portion of the universe, it is not to be doubted
that on this momentous occasion Napoleon exerted ail those powers
of personal attraction for which hi; was so remarkably distin-
guished, and which never failed to throw a spell (when iie chose
it) on all around him. If the courtly writers dwell with a eel-
tain complacency on this scene, caught bv the glare and parade
of royalty, I cannot say that I (with feelings totally opposite)
3S0 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
cither shrink from or grudge it. If Buonaparte here rose to i
height imperial, and thought it no robbery to be equal with Kings
and Caesars, neither should he : he rose to that height from the
level of the people, and thus proved that there was no natural in*
feriority in the one ease, no natural superiority in the other. lie
confounded and annulled the distinction between the two classes
of men. which one of them had wished to keep sacred, making
unsparing war upon and arrogating to himself with a high hand
their proudest claims and prerogatives. It was a satisfactory ami
noble demonstration that greatness was not the inheritance of a
privileged few, and that kings and concpierors sprang from the
earth, instead of being let down from Heaven to it. What showed
Buonaparte in the most imposing light was the borrowed lustre
that he reflected on Alexander, who merely served as a foil to
him : he seemed to raise him up as an antagonist power necessary
fin the absence of every other) to poise his own, and to impart
vitality and interest to his remote and barren dominions. The
frozen regions of the north might be said once more to stir and
rouse themselvi s, "as life were in them.'*' Russia hung suspcndi d
over and ready to fall upon the rest of Europe ; and Buonaparte
(looking at the map which they hold trembling between them)
might think it politic to add Spain to his end of the beam, to make
the balance stead v or even. The artificial mediums of knowledge,
which spread out the universe of things to our curiosity or cupid.
itv, while they extend the limits, d > not always give just propor-
tions to our ideas : the human Brobdignagian, standing over the
mimic globe reduced to a nutshell, retains its own dimensions and
* moo. and thinks i: easy to b'stride the wi rid like a C 1 <-
iti :■ -\ ever d raw rash and unwarranta-
-. "oi.r I:ii;i_r and country*'' are
-; well the one as the other : and hence are
equal things, 'fids is false arithmetic,
_ : .' ' - hi irly as inseparable fn m the
:. :' Ian; lage. w Inch suits well en ugh
' '- and ied dun rs. and falls in with
the gi'i'ssm - if mankind, who >eem incapable for the most part,
and, jn what c >nc tiis them u:o-t. of counting hi yond units.
The town of T:!.>i; was i>. >\v declared neutral. Entertainments
MIS.
Villi it
ion and
b!e
eonelusii
i.s. In
two
words ;!
at S' niiiM
mad
e use o]
'to i 1 1 1 : i
1 :
ics. 11 1
,-. tii
i tin- pill-
llllpi ! i' '
: ises of
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 381
of every kind followed each other in close succession ; and the
French and Russian and even the Prussian officers seemed so
delighted with each other's society, that it was difficult to conceive
that men so courteous and amiable had been for so many months
drenching trampled snows or sandy wastes with their blood.
The two Emperors were constantly together in public and in pri-
vate ; and their intimacy approached to that of two young men of
rank, who are companions in frolic and in sport as well as accus-
tomed to be associates in affairs and upon occasions of graver
import. On the more public occasions, there were guests at the
imperial festivities, for whom they contained small mirth. On
the 23th of June, the King of Prussia arrived at Tilsit, and was
presented to his formidable rival. Buonaparte did not admit him
to the same footing of familiarity with which he treated the Em-
peror Alexander ; and intimated that it would only be to oblige
the latter, that he should consent to relax his grasp on the Prus-
sian territories. Those in the King's own possession were reduced
to the petty territory of Memel. with the fortresses of Colberg and-
Graudentz : and it was soon plain that Prussia would obtain peace
only by resigning nearly all the acquisitions she had made by
fraud or violence since 1773. The Queen, who had in a great
measure provoked the war, was anxious to diminish the calami-
ties of the peace. As the quarrel had been personal to herself,
she felt the mortification of her present situation the more deeply,
vet submitted with the best grace she could to the ascendancv of
the conqueror. " Forgive us," she said, " this fatal war — the
memory of the Great Frederic deceived us — we thought ourselves
his equals, because we are his descendants — alas! we have not
proved such !" Desirous also to pay his court, Xapoleon on one
occasion offered her a rose of great beauty. The Queen who at
first seemed to decline the courtesy, at length accepted it, adding,
■• At least, with Magdeburg.'' Buonaparte answered, " Your
Majesty will be pleased to recollect that it is I who offer, and that
\ air Majesty has only the task of accepting." This replv, it
must be confessed, was by no means well-turned. The disastrous
const quences of the war with France, and the little influence sh6
was able to exert in softening their severity are said to have hast
eiied her death.
382 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
The part of Poland acquired by Prussia in the partition of 1772
was disunited from that kingdom, and erected, as lias been al-
ready stated, into a separate government or Grand-Duchy, with
the King of Saxon v at its head, and a military road across Silesia
leading to it. By the new Constitution of the Grand-Duchy sla-
very was abolished, and the equality of rights established among
all ranks of citizens. The Grand-Duke held the executive
power : and a Senate of eighteen members with a Lower House
of Deputies, amounting to a hundred, passed into laws or rejected
at pleasure such propositions as he laid before them. Put the
Poles were disappointed in the hopes either of the restoration of
some of their ancient privileges or of the establishment of their
independence as a nation. Dant/.ic was recognized as a free city
under the protection of Prussia and Saxony. The Emperor of
Russia and the King of Prussia ratified as a matter of course the
changes which Napoleon had wrought in Europe and acknowl-
edged the thrones he had set up, while out of deference to Alex-
ander, he consented that the Dukes of Saxe-Coburg, Oldonburgh,
and Mecklenburg-Swerin, German princes allied to 'he Czar,
should retain possession of their territories, France keeping the
seaports till a peace with England. By the treaty of Tilsit also,
Russia offered her mediation between France and England, but it
was understood that in ease of a refusal by the latter. Russia
would lend herself to enforce the Continental System, and shut
her ports against British commerce. It is also believed that Buo-
naparte was at this time apprised of the war shortly after waged
against Sweden, bv which Alexander deprived that kingdom of
her frontier province oi' Finland, and thereby obtained a covering
territory of the utmost imp uMance to his own capital. This vio-
lent seizure never appears to have troubled the amicable relations
or to have caused the interchan'_ r e of an angrv word between the
cabinets of St. James's and Si. Petersburg. The boasted flame
of justice and molality which rages with such vehemence in the
breast of trie English nation seems to light on wet or dvv straw.
as li'iritimacv or i Ih-irit i iiuie v is concerned. The treatv of Tilsit
ended all appearance of opp isiti m t i France up >n the Continent.
The Uritish armament which had been sent to Pomerania too late
in the campaign, was re-embarked ; and the King of Sweden.
BATTLES OF EYLAU, ETC. AND PEACE OF TILSIT. 383
evacuating Stralsund, retired to the dominions which he was not
very long destined to call his own. After remaining together for
a fortnight, during which they daily maintained the most friendly
intercourse and held long and secret conferences together, the
two Emperors parted with demonstrations of the highest personal
esteem, and each heaping on the other all the honors which it was
in his power to bestow. The peace between France and Russia
was signed on the 7th — that between France and Prussia on the
9th of July. The Congress broke up on the same day ; and
Napoleon on his return to France passing through Saxony (where
he received a visit from the King) arrived on the 29th of the same
month at the palace of St. Cloud, where he was greeted with the
homage of the Senate and of the other official and constituted
bodies, couched in language less proper to be addressed to a man
than to a God.*
* It was during Buonaparte's absence in the campaign of Poland that
the son of Hortense Queen of Holland died at the age of six or seven years.
Buonaparte was thus disappointed of an heir in that quarter, (on whom ho
had fixed great hopes) and this is supposed to have first given rise to the
settled idea of a divorce from Josephine, which took p\w two years after.
It was whispered among the courtiers on their return to ^ntainebleau in
the summer of ISO" ; and it is imagined to have had its sha-ro. i tl some of the
compliances of Napoleon with Alexander's designs (pariirulajrly in regard
to Turkey) in the hope of obtaining the hand of one of tint b««ian Arch-
duchesses ir marriage
384 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE AFFAIRS OF SPAIN.
Buonaparte in his behavior with regard to Spain, it most be
confessed, "sounded the very base-string'"' of a Machiavellian
policy. 1 know of nothing that can be pleaded in his excuse,
but the natural contempt that he must have felt for the reigning
family who were ready to tear one another to pieces for the pos-
session of the sovereign power and were eager to resign it to him
sooner than let one another have it, and a correspondent want of
respect for a nation that seemed to be in love with its chains.
From the exposure which the domestic quarrels between the
father and son made of their imbecility and profligacy, he must
have seen more clearly than ever what sort of stud* the old and
legitimate monarchies of Europe were composed of, with some
slight inclination lo retort the feeling of cheapness and rancor
with which they beheld him ; at the same time that viewing their
subjects through the diminished perspective which a copartnery
with thrones lent him, as they looked up to these poor creatures
as the (rods of their idolatry and their only refuge, was not the
way to increase his deference for or his sympathy with the peo-
ple lie saw a crown torn from the brow of the wearer by the
immediate heir to it ; and (imitating the treachery and usurpation)
tried to seize and keep it in his own grasp with as little dignity
as success; he saw a people worn out and debased under a long
course of absolute government, and wished to renovate their insti-
tutions by infusing into them some of the principles of modern le-
gislation and improvement ; but they strove witli the courage of
heroes and the patience of martyrs fin - what was then called free-
dom and independence, but has since received an interpretation
i written in the blood of its mistaken champions) into the more le-
gitimate language of bigotry and despotism.
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 335
Farther, Buonaparte's attack upon Spain was not quite so gra-
tuitous or unprovoked as it has' been usually considered. She
had gnven him cause to distrust the sincerity of her friendship
(any farther than it was compulsory) and to guard against the ill
effects of her half-smothered and ill-disguised enmity, by taking
the reins of her government into his own hands when the tempta-
tion offered. The secret of her lurking ill-will transpired in a
proclamation by the Prince of Peace at the time of the campaign
of Jena. Xo notice was taken of it at the time, but it was doubt-
less remembered afterwards. This curious and enigmatical docu-
ment was as follows :
" Proclamation of the Prince of the Peace.
" Iti circumstances less dangerous than those in which we are
at present placed, good and loyal subjects have been forward to
aid their sovereigns by voluntary contributions and succors pro-
portioned to the wants of the state. It is then in the actual cir-
cumstances that it becomes necessary to show ourselves generous
in behalf of our country. The kingdom of Andalusia, favored
by nature in the breeding of horses proper for light cavalry, the
province of Estremadura which rendered in the same way services
so important to King Philip the Fifth, can they with indifference
behold the royal cavalry reduced and incomplete for want of
horses ? Xo ! I do not believe it : I trust, on the contrary, that
after the example of the illustrious progenitors of the present gene-
ration, who aided the predecessor of the reigning sovereign with
levies of men and horses, the descendants of these brave patriots
will also hasten to furnish regiments or companies of men dexter-
ous in the management of the horse, to be employed in the service
and defence of the country, as long as the impending danger shall
last. This once over, they will return full of glory to the bosom
of their families, each disputing with his neighbor the honor of
the victory : one shall attribute to the valor of his arm the safety
of a family, another that of his chief, his kinsman, or his friend ;
all, in fine, shall boast of the preservation of the state. Come,
then, dear fellow countrymen, come arid range yourselves under
the banners of the best of kings. Come : I offer you in advance
the assurance of my gratitude and welcome, if it please God to
vol, it. 18 33
3Sfl LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
grant us a fortunate and durable peace, the only object of our
vows. Come ; you will not yield to the suggestions either of fear
or perfidy; your hearts will be closed against every sp-cies of
foreign seduction ; come, and if we are forced to cross our arms
with those of our enemies, you will not at least incur the danger
of being marked as suspected persons, nor will you strengthen a
false imputation on your honor or loyalty by refusing to answer
the appeal which I make to you.
" But if my voice is too feeble to awaken in you the sentiments
of true glory, be your own prompters, become the fathers of the
people, in whose name I address you ; let what you owe to them
make you remember what you owe to yourselves, to your honor,
and to the religion ichich you profess.
(Signed) The Prince of the Peace
"The Royal Palace of St. Laurence. Oct. 5, 1S0G.' ;
This proclamation was followed up by a circular, addressed by
the Prince Generalissimo to the governors of provinces and to the
corregidors of all the cities in the kingdom. Its tenor ran thus :
" Sir, — The King commands me to sav, that under the exist-
ing circumstances he expects of you an etlbrt of zeal and activity
in his service; and I myself in his name recommend to you tiie
greatest vigilance in the drawing of the 1 its which must soon take
place, wishing you to observe that we shall not be satisfied, nei-
ther his Majesty nor myself, with those ephemeral exertions
which it is customary to make in ordinary eases. You mav no-
lifv to the curates, in the name of the King, that thev will he
st o mded by tiie hish ps in urging the [i pie : > - ulist under our
standards, and exhorting the rich to make the necessary sacrifices
towards defraying the expeiws of a war which we shall perhaps
be compelled to support tbr the good of all ; and as it will exact
gp at i ttorts, the magistrates < i^ht to b" sens t it is mote
particularly their duty to employ all iikelv means to excite the
nation ' cnthu iasm in <-rder to enter tiie I ;>ts that are about to be
■ .. His M ij< sty feels c :.:. ; nt that von will neglect none
of those that may call forth the greatest number of soldiers in
your province or excite the gem rous ardor of the nobility ■. io;
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 387
their privileges as well as those of the crown are at stake) and
that you will do all that lies in your power to attain both these
important ends.
(Signed) " The Prince of the Peace."
By a singular coincidence enough, this circular was dated from
Madrid, the 14th of October, the same day as the battle of Jena.
Put for the turn which that battle took, and which put a sudden
stop to all this raising of cavalry and marching of troops, we
should have had Spain unsheathing the sword in the good old
cause, England paying the price, and a world of blood shed to at-
tain a durable peace, long before Buonaparte's unprincipled and
unprovoked aggression on Spain had roused the dormant lovalty
and fiery patriotism of that old cradle of romance and chivalry.
Europe reded and heaved, with war like an earthquake under
Buonaparte's feet, and he was accused of not standing still : no
state made peace with him as long as it could help it, and broke
it as soon as it could : those that were sorely against their will at
peace and disarmed time after time, kept up a secret understand-
ing and yearning sympathy will those that were at open and irre-
concileable war. Spain was one of those that had longest gnawed
the bridle, and that if he had failed at Jena would have been
at his heels to unfurl the banners and once more awaken the war-
cry of religion and social order in the passes of the Pyrenees ;
and it was in part to preclude such contingencies and put an end
to similar proclamations and circulars in future, that he stepped in
between the scandalous dissensions of the father and son to take
the power of peac r> and war in that country into his own hands —
iii an evil hour and with fatal results, it must be owned, but not
without grounds (both in the letter and the spirit of her counsels)
to qualify what there was of barefaced violence or meanness in
the attempt.
Portugal, which kept up a close correspondence with the Eng-
lish Government, refused to acquiesce in the Continental block-
ade, which was thus defeated of its object. Angry discussions
arose, and the French ambassador was ordered to quit Lisbon.
The Spanish ambassador did so the same day ; and the French
and Spanish troops marched in concert against Portugal. War
a&, LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
wa» lotmally declared : the Prince Regent did not wait to have
his cupiiiil invaded ; he embarked for the Brazils, and left nis
kingdom to General Junot, who commanded tlie French army,
and who without striking a blow in the quarrel obtained for him-
self the Dukedom of Abrantes. The intelligence of the (light of
tlirt rr\\-!»l f'ltnilv- frMtn \ .\<}\nn w:i< hsivvL-fin nhr.nt t ho Qtmffy ni I ,nn_
3LU 11HJ 1 J U l\l. UU111 Ul .1171 U11H.V). 1 IH. llUUIil.;!. ll^C \J 1 L11U 1 1 1 _^ 1 1 t VI
the royal family from Lisbon was hawked about the streets of Loir
don as "glorious news; 7 ' and the disappointment of Buonaparte';
design of getting them into his power was hailed as a master
stroke of state-policy. So low wore the hopes of the Allies fallen
(how changed since !) and so little did they look for any better
result than the indulgence of their own rage and obstinacy, that
it is not impossible if George 111. had been compelled to take re-
fuge in Canada in prosecution of the same just quarrel, it would
have been trumpeted forth as " a glorious event/' if the Courier-
office had been left standing, and purchasers eould have been
found for a third edition of that loyal paper ! Chacun a son tour.
It was about this period that the same writers, despairing of seeing
any good likely to come of the war, began to maintain boldly and
lustily tiiat it was a great good in itself; that war was the natural
state of mankind, " lively, audible, and full of vent," while peaee
was altogether " flat, stale, and unprofitable:'"' that war was the
sinews of commerce, the prop of the altar and the throne, that it
filled the pockets of the rich and carried off the superlluous popu-
lation from among the poor, that it was a wise and salutary dis-
pensation of Providence, that tin.' taxes were merely a circulating
medium, that the debt served as ballast to the state ; and that the
war-system, bequeathed as a legacy to the country by the late
'■ heaven-born" .Minister, was the only one under which it could
maintain its existence, and independence, or dignitv. All this
pompous and hollow declamation was to be understood, however,
only under the rose, as applving to war when carried on bv our-
selves or our Allies: but if it was made bv Buonaparte upon
ns or others, then this gentle, harmless creature (the darling plav-
thing of King, Parliament, ami People — so wanton, so dazzling,
so beautiful with its crimson spots am! warm glossv fur) was in-
stantly transformed into a hideous, hateful monster, with all its old
terrors restored and caricatured if possible, and we were called
upon to make one more combined and arduous effort in order (this
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 38>
was the usual butt-end of a speech from the throne) to put an end
to the calamities of war bv securing the blessings of a solid and
durable peace. Such was the state of fearful self-delusion and
notable inconsistency to which the public mind was at one time
reduced by insidious counsels and by venal pens. The tone was
changed with circumstances soon after — the objects remained and
remain the same, as every day makes more apparent.
Buonaparte was at Futitaincbleau in October 1807, when a M.
Izquierdo, counsellor to the King of Spain and a creature of
Don Manuel Godoi, arrived there to conclude a treaty between
the Emperor and his Catholic Majesty relating to the partition
of the kingdom of Portugal, which General Junot had just con-
quered. The first article gave to the King of Etruria in ex-
change for Tuscany (which Napoleon took to himself and added
to the kingdom of Italy) the Portuguese territory lying between
the Minho and the Douro ; and the second article erected the
kingdom of Algarves, including the province of the Alentejo,
into a principality in favor of Manuel Godoi, Prince of the Peace.
This transferring of sovereignties implies the transferring of sub-
jects ; and surely, either one or the other must be wrong, if it
can possibly be avoided. Nearly at the same epoch and date as
the treaty of Fontainebleau (October 27th) Charles IV. publish-
ed a royal edict against the Prince of the Asturias (since Fer-
dinand VII.) and had him arrested and kept close prisoner in Ins
apartments in the Escurial, as being at the head of a conspiracy
to deprive his father of his throne and life. On his begging par-
don, however, and disclaiming all intention of violence beyond
that of removing the favorite Godoi, he was forgiven and restored
to liberty. The first act of his inglorious career was to betray
his late advisers and accomplices. Just before the discovery of
the plot and bv way of insinuating himself into favor, he had
written by stealth to Napoleon to request one of his nieces in
marriage. There is no proof either for or against the ulterior
designs of the conspiracy, farther than his own disclaimer which
is absolutely worthless; but as he actually carried his usurpation
into effect in the spring following, there can be little doubt that it
was meditated in the first instance. Nor is there any difficulty
Ixi crediting both parts of his father's accusation against his r^
J90 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
bellious son. Unnatural sentiments are the familiar growth ot
unnatural situations. His education had been neglected; and
he had had no adviser but the canon Excoiquitz, armed with fanatic
fury and plenary indulgences. His understanding seems never
to have reached beyond that low cunning, which answers to the
instinct of self-preservation in animals. He was, besides, hated
by both his parents, to pleas:' their mutual favorite Godoi ; for it
is not the least striking part of this characteristic episode of roy-
alty that both the King and Queen appeared to have lavished all
their tenderness and anxiety on a person who was neither entitled
to admiration nor esteem, to the exclusion of every common obli-
gation and even the forgetfulness of themselves, thus showing
that the mind in all cases requires an object to fix its entire affec-
tion upon, and that those who are raised to the most exalted situ-
ations, and whose pride and caprice are their ruling passion, na-
turally choose an object that owes all to themselves, and where as
the preference is without a motive, so it may know no bounds of
reason, decency, or common sense. Feeling no extraordinary
virtues or talents in themselves to excite the homage and obedi-
ence of their subjects, they bestow their goodwill equally at ran-
dom. and think it hard if thev cannot be as absurd as the rest of
mankind or even distinguish themselves in the unaccountablenesa
of their attachments. Princes generally choose their favorites
among the meanest or the m ist mischievous of the species — those
who oppose the least resistance to their will or who are the most
dangerous instruments in executing if. In the present instance,
however. Godoi seems to have been the master rather than the
obsequious tool, and to have takei the affairs of government com-
pletely off the indolent and incapable shoulders of Charles IV.
The Emperor did not send an\ answer to Ferdinand's letter
respecting the marriage, but set nlT for Italy, where he visited
Venice, of which he had become the sovereign by the treaty of
Presburg ; carried into etlect the article in the treaty of Fon-
tainebleau which added Tuscany to his dominions; and in case
of bis death without issue, declared Kugene Beauharnais his heir
and successor to the crown ot' Italy. In the mean time, the
French troop* on their march to Portugal occupied the fortresses
of .St. Sebastian, Pampeluna, Barcelona, and Figueres or tr*
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 3&*
frontiers of Spain, and advanced as far as Vittoria. Godoi by
his connivance opened all these places to them, regardless of the
defenceless state of the country, and intent only on screening
himself from the public hatred and on securing possession of his
principality of Algarves. Murat approached Madrid by the route
of Sommo-Sierra, Buitrugo, and St. Augustin : but he stopped at
the latter place. The greatest alarm and agitation prevailed as
to the result of all these measures, and the nation fixed its eyes
with anxiety and expectation on the Prince of the Asturias. On
the 13th of March, 1808, an order came from the Prince of Peace
to the council of Castile to send the Walloon guards, the light
regiments of carbineers and the whole of the garrison of Madrid
to the palace of Aranjuez, where the royal family then were.
The pretext for this removal was to prevent any quarrels between
the garrison and the French troops on their arrival ; but its real
object seemed to be to deliver the capital into the hands of the
French. The Council sent a remonstrance, and deliberated all
day without coming to a conclusion. In the night, the troops
were marched oil"; while a large part of the population of Madrid
accompanied them. On the way they made no secret of their
intentions, vowing vengeance on the obnoxious favorite. Their
approach to Aranjuez alarmed the poor old king, who agreed to
dismiss Godoi from all his functions, but this concession was not
sufficient. Ferdinand who had hitherto appeared to take no
notice of what was passing, now came forward, put himself at
the head of his party, and Charles was compelled to abdicate on
the 19th in favor of his son, in the midst of bavonets and the
threatening cries of the populace. The only condition that he
demanded was the life of his minister. Godoi was discovered
concealed in a hay-loft belonging to the palace of Villa-Viciosa,
was snatched from the mob who were maltreating him by Ferdi-
nand, and conveyed under an escort to prison, and the next day
all his goods were declared to be confiscated, and an order issued
for his trial. The Prince then gave notice that he should pro-
ceed forthwith to Madrid to be proclaimed King. Fie arrived
here on the 24th of March : the Grand-Duke of Berg had entered
with his troops the preceding day ; but this occasioned no distur-
bance for the present, the people being entirely taken up and
392 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
. intoxicated with their reoent triumph. Ferdinand appointed the
Duke de l'Infantado colonel of the Guards, and recalled his for-
mer partisans who had been exiled ; at the same time that the
old King, being freed from immediate danger, retracted his abdi-
cation as forced from him, and applied to Napoleon for his inter-
position to dispose of his crown as he pleased, and to extend his
protection to the Prince of Peace. The Queen wrote to the
Grand-Duke of Berg to the same effect, who promised his good
offices and who had ordered detachments on Segovia and Toledo N
thus drawing a circle of troops round the capital. Buonaparte,
when he heard it, did not approve of this step. Murat had sent
him word what he had done, with an account of the events of
Aranjuez, and received from him the following admirable letter
in answer, which would almost show that he was precipitated
into his subsequent measures by the strength of sudden temptation
or by the baseness and inefficiency of those he had to deal with.
•■ March 29th. 1S0S.
" Monsieur the Grand-Duke of Berg — I am afraid lest you
should deceive me with respect to the situation of Spain, and lest
you should also deceive yourself. Events have been singu-
larly complicated by the transaction of the 20th of March. I find
myself very much perplexed.
'•Do not believe that you are about to attack a disarmed peo-
ple, or that you can bv merely showing your troops subjugate
Spain. The revolution of the "20th of March proves that the
Spaniards still possess energy. You have to do with a new peo-
ple. It has all the courage and will display all the enthusiasm
shown by men, who are not worn out bv political passions.
" The aristocracy and the clergy are the masters of Spain. If
Ihev are alarmed for their privileges and existence, they will
lirmir into the field against us levies in mass, which might eter
nise the war. I am not without partisans : if I present myself
as a conqueror, I shall have them no longer.
'•The Prince of the Peace is detested, because he is accused
of having betrayed Spain to France. This is the grievance
which has assisted Ferdinand's usurpation. The popular is the
weakest party.
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. S93
" The Prince of the Asturias does not possess a single quality
requisite for the head of a nation. That will not prevent hia
being ranked as a hero, in order that he may be opposed to us.
I will have no violence employed against the personages of this
family. It can never answer any purpose to make one's-self
odious and inflame animosity. Spain lias a hundred thousand
men under arms, more than are necessary to carry on an internal
war with advantage. Scattered over different parts of the coun-
try, they may serve as rallying points for a total insurrection of
the monarchy.
" I lay before you all the obstacles which must inevitably
arise. There are others of which you must be aware. England
will not let the opportunity escape her of multiplying our embar-
rassments. She daily sends advice to the forces which she main-
tains on the coast of Portugal and in the Mediterranean, and en-
lists into her service numbers of Sicilians and Portuguese.
'■ The Royal Family not having left Spain to establish itself in
the Indies, the state of the country can only be changed by a Re-
volution. It is perhaps, of all others in Europe, that which is the
least prepared for one. Those who perceive the monstrous vices
of the government and the anarchy which has taken place of the
lawful authority, are the fewest in number. The greater num-
ber profit by those vices and that anarchy.
" I can, consistently with the interests of my Empire, do a great
deal of good to Spain. What are the best means to be adopted ?
" Shall I go to Madrid ? Shall I take upon myself the office
of Grand Protector in pronouncing between the father and the
son ? It seems to me a matter of difficulty to support Charles
IV. on the throne. His government and his favorite are so very
unpopular that they could not stand their ground for three
months.
L - Ferdinand is the enemy of France : it is for this he has been
made King. To place him on the throne would be to serve the
factions which for twenty years have longed for the destruction
cf France. A family-alliance would be but a feeble tie: the
Queen Elizabeth and other French princesses have perished mis-
erably, whenever they could be immolated with impunity to the
atrocious spirit of vengeance. My opinion is that nothing should
18*
394 LIFE OF XAPOLEOX.
be hurried forward, and that we should take counsel of events as
they occur. It will be necessary to strengthen the bodies of
troops which are to be stationed on the frontiers of Portugal, and
wait.
" I do not approve of the step which your Imperial Highness
has taken in so precipitately making yourself master of Madrid.
The army ought to have been kept ten leagues f cm the capital.
You had no assurance that the people and the magistracy were*
about to recognize Ferdinand without a struggle. The Prince
of the Peace must of course have partisans among those employed
in the public service : there is also an habitual attachment to the
old King, which might lead to certain consequences. \our en-
trance into Madrid, by alarming the Spaniards, has powerfully
assisted Ferdinand. I have ordered Savary to wait on the old
King and see what passes. He will concert measures with your
Imperial Highness. J shall hereafter decide on what is finally
accessary to be done. In the meantime, the following is the line
of conduct I judge lit to prescribe to you.
•• You will not pledge me to an inti rview in Spain with Ferdi-
nand, unless you consider the state of things to be such that I
ought to acknowledge him as King of Spain. You will behave
with attention and respect to the King, the Queen, and Prince
Godoi. 1 ou will exact for them and yourself pay them the same
's as formerly. You will manage so that the Spaniards shall
have no suspicion which part I mean to take : you will find the
less difficulty in this, as I do not kn >w myself.
"You will make the nobility and chugy understand that if the
interference of Franc be requisite in the affairs of Spain, their
privileges and immunities will be respected. \du will assure
Li' m that the Fmperur wishes for the improvement of the politi-
cal mstituti ins of Spain, in order t i put her on ;i lb 'ting with the
a.'ed state of civilization in Furope, and, to tree her from the
y ,ke of favorites. You will tell th- magistrates and the inhabit-
i.nts : ' .vns and the well -in f irnied classes, that Spain st tnds in
heed of having the machine of her government re-organized, and
that she requires a system f laws to prut eel the people against
the vrannv and cucroachm* nts of feii lality, with institutions that
n:av revive industry, agriculture, and the arts. \ ou will describe
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 395
to them the state of tranquillity and plenty enjoyed by Fiance,
notwithstanding the wars in which she has been constantly en-
gaged, and the splendor of religion, which owes its establishment
to the Concordat which I have signed with the Pope. You will
explain to them the advantages they may derive from political re
generation ; order and peace at home, respect and influence
abroad. Such should be the spirit of your conversation and your
writings. Do not hazard any thing hastily. I can wait at Bay-
onne ; I can cross the Pyrenees, and strengthening myself to-
wards Portugal, I can go and carry on the war in that quarter.
" I shall take care of your particular interests ; do not think
of them yourself. Portugal will be at my disposal. Let no per-
sonal object engage you or influence your conduct ; that would be
injurious to me and would be still more hurtful to yourself.
" You are too hasty in your instructions of the 14th ; the move-
ment you order C'eneral Dupont to make is too sudden, on ac-
count of the event of the 19th of March. They must be altered ;
you will make new arrangements : you will receive instructions
from my Minister for Foreign Affairs.
" I enjoin the strictest maintenance of discipline : the slightest
faults must not go unpunished. The inhabitants must be treated
with the greatest attention. Above all, churches and convents
must be respected.
" The army must avoid all misunderstanding with the bodies
and detachments of the Spanish army ; a single flash in the pan
must not be permitted on either side.
'• Let Solano march beyond Badajoz : but watch his move-
ments. Do you yourself trace out the routes of my army, that
it may always be kept at a distance of several leagues from
die Spanish corps. If war is once kindled, all would be lost.
" The fate of Spain can alone be decided by political views
and by negociation. I charge you to avoid all explanation with
Solano, as well as with the other Spanish generals and governors.
Vou will send me two expresses daily. In ease of events of su-
perior interest, vou will dispatch officers of ordonnance. You
will immediately send back the Chamberlain do Tournon, the
bearer of this dispatch, and give him a detailed report.
(Signed) Napoleon.'*'
39G
LIFE OF XAPOLLON.
In this letter (and it no doubt expressed his genuine and delib-
erate sentiments) Buonaparte seems feelingly alive to the diffi-
culties of his situation, to t he nature of the struggle in which he
might be involved, and the dormant character of the people ; to
he aware of the disadvantages under which Spain labored, and
the excessive caution and delicacy that must be employed in re-
moving them. It would be too much to suppose that his views
and purposes were changed by his nearer acquaintance with the
Spanish Princes, and that as he himself says, "when he found
what poor creatures they were, he felt compassion for a great
nation, over whom they were placed ;"'" fir his joy at the approach
of Ferdinand and his astonishment at his trusting himself in his
hands, show too clearly the use he intended or thought it possible
to make of the circumstance. But it is probable that the previ-
ous design he had formed was fixed and rendered palatable to
himself by being let into the infirmities of this roval group, the
besotted King, the changeling son. the mother proclaiming her-
self a strumpet to prove her son a bastard ;* and that these re-
peated scenes of indecency and folly took away not only all com-
passion for the performers in them, but piqued the pride which
he felt in his conscious superiority over these legitimate sover-
eigns to set aside their preposterous pretensions and treat them
as their inherent qualities deserved. lie beheld an immense en-
gine of power within his reach, and conceived a strong desire to
snatch it from the baby-hands that knew not how to wield it. In
this there was, it is true, a sort of natural justice, which save an
indirect warrant to the dictates of his ambition and self-will.
Under his guidance he foresaw a brilliant prosperity and grow-
ing strength in reserve for Spain, and he did :i it think it riuhi
that a couple of roval marmozets should stand in the way of the
■ct. If- wanted to new-color the map f Europe, and nr
this purpose the old boundaries must be effaced. lie felt in him-
sr If the uhilitv to infuse new life and vit_ r or into "the vast d
ions ,,f Charles V. on which the sun never sets." and to raise up
the Spanish monarchy from its tomb; and male lisht (to attain
so important an object) of kidnapping its reigning princes ktA
* Tliis trait rests on the authority of Don PcJro Ccvallos: Buonaparte
denies it
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN 397
leading a whole nation to its good, blindfolded and against its
will.
Two things suggest themselves here from Napoleon's failure
on this occasion. The first is the necessity of justice on the lib-
eral side of the question. Others may do and have done, since
the world began, very well without it : but we cannot. We have
not custom, prejudice, fashion, and a thousand things to eke out
our imperfections : we have nothing but our good cause and our
good name to carry us through, and we cannot afford to have
them fairly called in question. We appeal to justice ; and by
that we must abide. Our adversaries pay us the compliment to
criticise us severely, and with reason, for we challenge the com-
parison. They who set up no other pretension than the right of
the strongest or of prescription, can never be in the wrong while
thev are uppermost, or while the person, it not the act, is legiti-
mate. On the other hand, our smallest fault " shows ugly" by
the side of the abstract standard of public good which we have
fondly erected ; and our most casual departure from this shocks
public opinion and alienates numbers. This is seen remarkably
in the present instance. Buonaparte, by seizing on a crown that
did not belong to him, raised an universal hubbub of indignation
against him from one end of Europe to the other, which has not
subsided to this hour. The reason is. he had no traditional right
or privilege to plead, and stood or fell by his own act or deed.
That very crown that Buonaparte wrested from Ferdinand, the
latter had torn with insolence and perfidy from his father's brow,
though no more notice was taken of this circumstance than if it
had descended to him in the course of nature — he lias since been
the parricide of libertv and of his country — no one is surprised
or shocked at it, it produces no effect, because he does not profess
to be accountable to any law but his own will, and is absolved
by his birth from everv tie of humanity and justice. That which
bv a received formula sets itself above- the law is also raised above
opinion .
Again, if any one could pretend to govern by dint of meie
abilitv and skill, it was Buonaparte : no one devised or carried
into effect greater or more beneficial designs for his own or other
countries : yet all his schemes at last recoiled upon himself, from
398 LIFE OF XAPOLEO> T .
his not allowing the popular voice and wish to act as an habitual
counterpoise and corrective to the deductions of reason or the
glosses of ambition. No one individual is as wise as the whole
put together ; or if he were ten times wiser, his wisdom is not
adapted to their ignorance. The more lofty and extensive his
views, the less approbation and the more obstacles they will meet
with ; and no man can stamp the seal of his understanding on
the public weal, unless it is first melted by the warmth of attach-
ment and sympathy. It is not enough that things are good in
themselves : they require time and custom to make them desira-
ble ; and these will make the worst endurable. If the people are
enlightened and judges of the good intended for them, then they
have a right to he consulted : if they are ignorant and incompe-
tent, then they will spit our improvements back in our face.
Truth indeed will prevail in the end with fair play, but not by a
fiat of the will ; and all that force can do, is to neutralize the
force opposed to its diffusion. Buonaparte viewed the matter in
too literal and mechanical a light ; and thought that nations were
to be drilled like armies. His system savored too much of his
school-studies. Had lie been a metaphysician instead of a ma-
thematician, he Mould not have fallen into this error ; but then
he would not have gained battles nor raised himself to the height
he did. There is nothing that people resent more than having
benefits thrust upon them : it is adding insult, as they think, to
injury. Our attack on Copenhagen the year before was bad
enough, and was loudly exclaimed against : hut it was nothing
(in the vulgar estimation) to this affair of Spain. We went as
open and declared enemies, determined to do the Danes all the
mischief we could, fir our own sakes. We took their ships from
them ; we did not pretend to give them any thing in exchange.
This was honest and above -hoard. Mankind above all things hate
to he made the dupes of doubtful professions of wisdom and be-
nc\ ih nee.
There is another letter of Buonaparte's of nearly the same
dale with the one above quoted, addressed to Ferdinand, which,
if meant to cajole the Prince, is had enough: if serious, is still
wi.rse. There are expressions in it about Kings and the People,
trulv worthy of his correspondent ; and which could never be
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 399
forgiven in him, but that he afterwards met with enough to cure
him of this delusion, and that his atttempts to pass beyond his
proper sphere and character were as unavailing as those of the
child to leap over its own shadow. The factitious elevation from
which he here pretends to look down upon the people will ac-
count for the little resistance he might be supposed to expect from
them and the thoughtless provocation he gave them much bet-
ter than his grave and manly advice to Murat, so as to produce
a direct contradiction in terms. His disposition to screen Godoi
and to check every spontaneous impulse of popular feeling are
also very bad symptoms. But if the intoxication of supreme
power so soon turns the head of the individual (as it were in
spite of himself) what must it do in the course of generations
and when the poison is infused into the very blood ? But to pro-
ceed. — Ferdinand, uneasy at not being recognized as King by
Murat, and anxious to pay his court to Buonaparte, set out for
Bayonne, whither the latter had come on his way to Madrid.*
This resolution was taken without the advice of the Council, and
by no means pleased the people. He left the capital on the
10th of April, having appointed a regency with the infant Don
Antonio at its head, and reached Vittoria on the 16th. His pro-
gress was signalized the whole way with every demonstration of
attachment and triumph. Some of the inhabitants in the excess
of their zeal strewed their garments on the road where the wheels
of the roval carriage were to pass, that they might preserve the
marks of the joyful event ever after. Sovereigns so beloved can
only improve on this homage and testimony of devotedness by
riding over the necks of their subjects ! On the day that Ferdi-
nand arrived at Vittoria, the commission appointed to try Godoi
received an order from the Regency to stop proceedings against
him ; and he was soon afterwards released and conducted to the
frontier by Buonaparte's desire — whether it was that the Empe-
ror wished to oblige King Charles by savins the life of his fa-
vorite, or that he thought he might learn important state-secrets
from a man who had ruled Spain by a nod for twenty years ; or
* lie was induced to proceed by an expression in Buonaparte's letter
(which he received on the way) that " he felt a desire to converse with him
on certain points"
400 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
that he resolved to hold in his own hands all the twisted threads
of policy ; or to check and mortify the impatience of the people
for vengeance ; or finally, to show favor to an old protege and
tolerably faithful ally. Ferdinand had some difficulty to escape
from the loyalty of the citizens of Vittoria, who were disposed to
detain him by force among them, till he assured them of the per-
fect good understanding between himself and the French Emperor.
On the 13th he received Napoleon's letter ; and still, in spite of
the remonstrances of his most judicious friends, determined to
proceed. He left Vittoria on the 19th, and from I run sent for-
ward an aide-de-camp of the Emperor's with a letter to say that
he should be at Bayonne the next day, if agreeable to his Majesty.
Buonaparte, when he received the news from his aide-de-camp,
could hardly believe it. " How V' he exclaimed — " Is he coming ?
No ! it is not possible !'"' r I hese words have been quoted to show
that Buonaparte had no malice prepense, no ill intentions in the
business. They appear to me to show the contrary. What !
was France become a robber's cave, that it was dangerous for a
foreign Prince to trust himself in it ? Every man who comes into
your house puts himself in your power ; but that alone does net
give you the right to seize upon his purse or person. It is true,
it does not appear that Buonaparte either decoyed or invited the
Spanish princes into his territory : he merely let tJiem come upon
an understanding of good faith, and all that he had to do was to
let them go lack again. Would that he had ! It would have had
a much less injurious effect if he had gained possession of their
persons by main force, than under a mask of hospitality and
friendship.
The Prince of the Asturias arrived at Bavonne on the 20th.
The Emperor had sent no one to the frontiers to receive him ; but
Berthier, Duroc, and the Count d'Angosse went to meet him a
little wav out of the town. An hour after, Napoleon went to
pav him a visit, which lasted onlv a short time; and the Grand-
Marshal was then sent to invite- the Prince to dinner, together
will) Don Carlos, the Duke de 1'Infantado, AI.de Cevallos, the
Abbe Excoiquitz, and others. Napoleon descended to the bottom
of the steps, where the carriage of the Prince drew up; which
was the only time he paid him any of the marks of attention usual
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 40i
towards crowned heads. At dinner he avoided with great care
cabling him either by the title of your Majesty or your High-
ness. He however made up for this omission by great courtesy
to him and his suite ; all of whom went away apparently well
pleased with their reception. An hour after Ferdinand had re-
turned home, he is said to have received a message to announce
that he would be treated only as Prince of the Asturias, till the
King should arrive at Bayonne, when the dispute might be cleared
up between them.
The ncgociations began the day after the arrival of Ferdinand,
but made little progress. On the 27th, Josephine arrived at the
Chateau de Marrac, and preparations were made for the recep-
tion of the old court of Spain. The Spanish Princes were closely
watched, and all their letters seized and opened at the frontier.
Even the market-women were roughly handled by the Custom-
house officers, as they had often dispatches found on them for
Spanish emissaries who were waiting on the other side of the
Bidassoa. Early on the morning of the 29th the Emperor had
his Prefect of the Palace (who was acquainted with* Spanish)
called up, and made him translate the following letter word for
word from the original.
" To Don Antonio.
'•Bayonne. April 28th, 1808.
"Dear Friend, — I have received thy letter of the 24th, and
have read the copies of two others which it encloses, the one from
Murat and thy answer: I am satisfied with it; I have never
doubted thy discretion nor thy friendship for me. I know not
how to thank you for it.
" The Empress arrived here yesterday in the evening at seven
o'clock: there were only some little children who cried Long
live 'Ike Empress! Besides, even these cries were very feeble ;
she passed without stopping, and went immediately to Marrac,
where 1 shall go to visit her to-day.
" Cevallos yesterday had a warm dispute with the Emperor,
who called him traitor, because having been minister under my
father, he had attached himself to me, and that this was the cause
of the contempt he had for him. I don't know how Cevallos con-
34*
402 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
tained himself, for he is easily irritated, particularly in hearing
such reproaches. I had not till to-day so well known Cevallos*
I see that he is a man of probity, who regulates his sentiments
according to the true interests of his country, and that he is of a
firm and vigorous character; such as we need in circumstances
like the present.
" I apprise thee that Maria-Louisa (Queen of Etruria) has
written to the Emperor, that she was witness of the abdication of
my father, and that she can state that it was far from voluntary.
" Govern well, and take care lest these cursed French should
play thee false. Receive the assurances of my most tender at-
tachment. Ferdinand."
The Emperor while reading this letter appeared hurt at what
concerned the Empress, but still more indignant at the expression
"these cursed French." -Are you quite sure that that is the ex-
act word V' he said to his interpreter; who showed him the word
in Spanish — Malditlos. " That is it, sure enough/' said Xa-
Doleon, " this word is almost Italian." This letter cost both par-
ties dear ; and is an argument to point out the danger of such
clandestine m >des of getting at information : for if we might else
remain hi the dark as to the real intentions of our adversaries, we
are thus led to draw false and overstrained conclusions.* The
seeming duplicitv provokes us, and does not leave us at leisure to
make allowance for the difference between a casual expression of
spleen or impatience, and a deliberate avowal that the parties
would act upon. Ferdinand could hardly be expected to like the
French as well as the Spaniards, or in forgot that Josephine was
not born a princess: yet it does not follow that he would have
rrnno to war with the one or would not have been glad 1o marrv a
hi cc of the other. Xapoloon, however, took him at his word,
without his knowing it : the real sentiments and hatred of Fcrdi-
liind were, as he thought, thus revealed to him, and he proceeded
* Buonaparte remarks that when the Count de Xarbonne was sent to
Vicuna in 1M';. by his superior sagicky in worming out the secrets cf the
Austrian Cabinet, lie compelled Austria prematurely to declare her*eif.
which otherwise she might not have done at all. So doubtfulare the advan-
'j-.ires of superior limsse and cunning !
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 403
to treat him accordingly. That same evening the official Gazette
of Bayonne published the letter of Charles IV. to Napoleon with
the protest against his abdication, which was a thunder-stroke to
the Prince and his party, and the next day the old King and
Queen of Spain reached Bayonne.
The Emperor had sent Duke Charles of Placentia and the
Prince of Neufchatel to Irun and the borders of the Bidassoa to
compliment their Catholic Majesties, who on their entrance into
France found a numerous detachment of troops ready to escort
them. They were received at Bayonne with the greatest hon-
ors : the garrison was under arms, the vessels in the harbor had
their colors flying, the cannon of the citadel and of the port were
fired, and the whole population poured out to welcome them with
repeated acclamations as friendly and powerful sovereigns. The
Grand-Marshal Duroc received them at the government-palace
and presented to them General Count Reille, Count du Manoir,
and Count Audenarde, three of the most accomplished of Buona-
parte's courtiers, who were appointed to attend them. The gran-
dees of Spain who were at Bayonne followed the Prince of the
Asturias, who went to meet his royal parents on the outside of the
city. On their return, the ceremony of kissing hands took
place, and the king then dismissed the assembly of nobles. Fer-
dinand considerably at a loss offered to follow the King, when the
latter extended his arms to prevent him, asking in a tone of bit-
terness, " If he had not already sufficientlv outraged his father's
grey hairs V and the Prince overwhelmed by the reproach, with-
drew in the utmost confusion. Napoleon went to visit the old
King and Queen soon after, and stayed a long time with them ;
but did not invite them to dinner till the next day, leaving them
the whole day to enjoy the satisfaction of being restored to their
beloved Godoi.
The escort which accompanied their Majesties was not numer-
ous, but loaded with baggage and valuables. The carriages of
the King, made after the model of those of the time of Louis
XIV. which had conveyed Philip V. into Spain, presented a sin-
gular contrast to the elegance and lightness of the French equip-
ages. It will scarcely be believed that the etiquette of the court
condemned four huge lackeys, in grand liveries to remain stand
404 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
ing close together behind the King's carriage the whole way from
Madrid to Bayonne, exposed to all weathers and to the clouds of
dust on the high roads ? These good folks took a journey just as
if they were going to pay a visit in the neighborhood. The next
morning, when the Emperor's carriage came to fetch the King and
Queen, who had expressed a desire to pay the first visit to the
Empress Josephine, the King, who had a slight attack of the gout,
and besides was encumbered with his sword, could hardly get
into it, and was afraid of trusting his weight to the steps. He
laughed at his own embarrassment. These high personages were
received by Josephine with all the grace and courtesy which
were inseparable from her. After the first compliments were
over, something was said about the toilet, and the Queen gladly
accepted the offer of Josephine to send Duplan to give her women
a lesson in the modern art of head-dressing. The Queen looked
altered indeed by submitting to the fashion, but not for the better.
They brought the Prince of Peace with them to dinner, though
he had not been invited. In going to the dining-room, Napoleon
gave his hand to the Queen ; and walking faster than usual, he
perceived it and checked himself, saying, " Your Majesty perhaps
finds that 1 proceed rather fast ?" " Sire," replied the Queen smil-
ing, u it is your usual habit." Buonaparte answered awkwardly
enough, as if he had stumbled over something, that " from Ins
gallantry to the ladies lie made it a point to conform in all things
to their tastes." On sitting down to table, King Charles perceived
that his favorite was not there : " But Manuel, — but Godoi ?" he
said : and the Emperor smiling made a sign that he should be
admitted. The conversation turned on the etiquette and cus-
toms of the two courts ; and Charles IV. spoke of his passion
for hunting, to which he attributed in a great measure his gout
and rheumatisms. " Every day," said he, " whatever the
weather might be, winter and summer, I set off after break-
fast and after having heard mass : I hunted till one o'clock, and
returned to it again immediately after dinner till the close of day.
In the evening Manuel took the pains to let me know if affairs
went well or ill ; and I retired to bed to begin the same round on
the morrow, at least unless some important ceremony required
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 405
me at home." Ever since his accession to the crown, the King
had led no other life.
In the midst of these proceedings, advices came from Murat
and Don Antonio that troubles had broken out at Toledo and
Burgos. Murat in a letter to the President of the Council took
upon himself (in direct opposition to Buonaparte's instructions) to
quell these tumults, if the Regent could not ; and sent pressing
and almost menacing applications to him to appoint an extraordi-
nary junta of the principal nobles to repair to Bayonne to deter-
mine on the present state of Spanish affairs. In this as on so
many other occasions, the zeal of the Grand-Duke outran his dis-
cretion. He was a mere swaggering upstart ; and Napoleon
ought never to have trusted him with the smallest responsibility
beyond that of heading a charge of cavalry. But it was his foi-
ble to suppose that all those connected with him were capable of
great things as well as himself, or that he could supply their de-
ficiencies out of his own superabundance. In the night of the
29th of April, a secret council was held at Bayonne, in which
the Duke de l'lnfantado gave and signed his opinion that Ferdi-
nand had not the right either for himself or his heirs to exchange
the crown of Spain for that of Etruria, according to a proposition
that had been made the preceding day. At Madrid, the fermen-
tation began to be extreme. The people, mad at seeing the.
Prince whom they fondly idolized and the favorite who had been
given up to their vengeance snatched from them, grew impotien*.
to know the fate of each ; nothing transpired through the regular
channels, as the couriers and dispatches were stopped at the fron-
tier, so that the most exaggerated and absurd reports prevailed
In this state of irritation and painful suspense, a French soldieT
was killed by a Spanish peasant in the streets of Madrid on the
1st of May ; preparations were making for the departure of the
Queen of Etruria and of the Infant Don Antonio; an aide-de-
camp of the Grand Duke narrowly escaped being assassinated ;
another French officer was severely wounded in attempting to
disperse a mob. Such was the prelude to an insurrection which
had been so well foreseen that the Spanish nobles at Bavonne
wrote to their wives to quit Madrid before the approaching catas
trophe. The French writers mention this to prove that they were
406 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
not the assailants in this business, and so far they are right : but
if was the natural consequence of treating a whole nation as hav-
ing no will of their own, because it was an absurd one, and of
assuming the airs of a second Providence over them, without the
privilege of invisibility.
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 407
CHAPTER XL.
THE SA3IE SUBJECT CONTINUED.
On the 2d of May early in the morning, the assemblages in
the streets of Madrid became more numerous and threatening. A
great number of peasants had been let into the city the day be-
fore. The Grand-Duke made the drums beat to arms, and
stationed a strong detachment of the guard, with two pieces of
artillery, in front of the palace. These preparations for cierer.ce
did not intimidate the people, who continued to provoke and insult
the French troops : the outrages were carried to such a pitch, that
orders were given to draw up the men in form of battle, and to
reply by a fire from the two first ranks. The grape-shot had the
effect of dispersing the mob. The same thing took place at the
several posts occupied by the French. The populace were
obliged to take shelter in the houses, whence they contrived to
fire from the windows and to kill a great number of the soldiery.
The conflict in the streets and in the houses was thus kept up
witli sanguinary obstinacy the whole day. Towards evening,
the Government, protected by the French and Spanish troops (the
latter of whom endeavored to appease the tumult) published a
proclamation which for some hours suspended hostilities. But
the information which the rioters obtained of the approach of
fresh troops, instead of quieting, only made them more furious
than ever. The night was dreadful : the French were obliged to
force open the doors of houses, whence musket-shots were dis-
charged at them: the rage was equal on either side. In the
street oi St. "\ ictor, the mob* got possession of a loaded cannon,
* Do not the mob always come into play, whenever there is a general and
thorough feeling of resistance excited in the community? Their stirring
is the last decisive indication, unless merely when they are set upon by
their superiors. Why then, when they appear on the popular side, should
'iiey cast a slur upon it ?
403 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
pointed it against a column of French cavalry, and brought down
a great number of them. The cannon was re-taken, because the
peasants who had seized upon it had no ammunition to charge it
ag.nn : they were taken prisoners and slaughtered without mercy.
The following day (the 3d) was tranquil and silent as the tomb:
the fermentation had subsided; the insurgents had used all their
ammunition, had suffered great loss ; and it was by cart-loads
that the wouuded were conveyed to the hospitals.
The Grand-Duke of Berg (who after the departure of Don
Antonio was chosen President of the council) published a procla-
mation and a letter to General Dupont in which he talked big of
the canaille of Madrid, and distributed pardons with a munificent
hand. Notwithstanding which, a military commission was ap-
pointed to try the insurgents, and some hundreds of peasants were
shot. This piece of unnecessary barbarity and the carrying off
of Don Manuel Godoi were the two things which the Spaniards
never forgave. The Emperor having read the dispatches which
brought him an account of the events of the "2nd of May went
in search of the King, and his countenance, over which he had
ordinarily great command, betrayed the strongest emotion. Both
the King and Queen were in the room; and twice during the
interview Charles left the apartment to go and give Godoi an
account of what was passing. Such was the sort of infatuation,
from which all this train of calamity arose ! It was agreed to
send for the Prince. It has been pretended that when Ferdinand
entered the room, the three sovereigns remained seated ; and that
during the whole of this singular interview the Prince was kept
standing. If so, it must have been with the marked intention to
humble him and render him tractable to good advice, as it was
contrary to Napoleon's habit to remain seated long together; and
when any thing interested him. he usually walked up and down
the room, while venting his opinions or feelings. King Charles
presenting the report t > his son with a menacing air, said, •• R ■.; !,
read ; : ' ami when the Prince had done so, li Behold," said the
King, "tiie horrible results of the infamous counsels that have
been given you by perfidious friends, and to which you have
yielded with a culpable eagerness, thus forgetting the respect
which was due to me, your father and your king : you have exoi-
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 40t)
tei the revolt: but though it is easy to kindle a popular confla-
gration, it requires other hands than yours to extinguish it." The
King added other opprobrious epithets to these reproaches, and
declared that " if he did not instantly sign the abdication of the
crown he had usurped, he and all his adherents should be seized
as traitors and punished as such." Ferdinand, without offering
either expostulation or resistance, merely replied that "he had
never offended his father intentionally; and that if his happiness
or that of the nation required it, he was ready to tender his resi^.
nation," showing the meekness of the lamb when he frit himse'f
in the power of others, no less; than the cruelty of the tiger when
he had got them in his. "Go and do so, then/' said his father;
and the next day (the 6th of -May) after having consulted with
his party, he signed his abdication of the crown. Charles IV.
was no sooner in formal possession of this document than he hast-
ened to avail himself of it by concluding a treaty with Napoleon,
by which he transferred to him all his rights to the throne of
Spain, stipulating only the independence and integrity of the king-
dom and the maintenance of the Catholic Religion not only as
dominant, but as the only one tolerated. He addressed a proclama-
tion to the Councils of Castile and of the Inquisition, informing
them of the circumstance, and hoping for their approbation; and
Ferdinand himself with the other princes of the blood, at the same
time testified their acquiescence in the measure, which brought
the affairs of Spain within a small compass. The King and
Queen of Spain with Godoi set off a few days after for Fontaine-
bleau ; and Ferdinand -with Don Carlos and his uncle was escorted
without parade or seeming repugnance to Valencay, where he
was received on his arrival by the Prince of Benevenio, the pro-
prietor of the mansion, and where he remained for some years,
amusing himself with embroidering petticoats for the Virgin and
from time to time writing letters to Buonaparte, demanding one
of his nieces in marriage. — While Napoleon was making this ex-
traordinary acquisition to his dominions, Alexander had robbed
Sweden of Finland : but that country submitted with a good grace
to the gentle violence of a legitimate monarch, making none of
those outcries or convulsive struggles that Spain did, and soon
after making common cause with the despoiler and ravisher, t* «
VOL. II. 19 ^
410 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
put a stop to the encroachments and ambition of France. The
hue-and-cry of liberty is never raised under certain auspices, but
to cover the designs of slavery.
It mav seem strange that Charles IV. should be so easily pre-
vailed upon to make over not only his own right and title to the
throne, but those of his son and of his heirs and successors to all
posterity. But there is a degree of incapacity so low that it even
unfits men for being kings or aspiring to be so. It should be
recollected that it is only a fine distinction that necessarily sepa-
rates the tiara from the slabbering-bib ; and that many of those
who in modern times have sat upon thrones might but for this
elevation have been doomed to wander as objects of pity and
scorn about some village in their own dominions. This weakness
of understanding when joined with good-nature has a tendency
to make the possessors indifferent to power, which is only an in-
cumbrance to them, as they see no use they can make of it ; the
same want of understanding combined with malice and pride
makes them proportionally tenacious of authority, for mischief
finds its objects better than good-nature ; and the poorest creature
(if trusted with power) can torment and worry a whole nation,
which thenceforward becomes his delight and ruling passion.
Such seems to have been the difference between the father and
son in the present instance. Charles IV. could hardly be said
himself to quit a throne which he had only nominally ascended ;
he had no farther satisfaction in a country from which Godoi had
been banished, and could still exercise his sovereign pleasure in
playing duetts on the fiddle without waiting for the person who
was to accompany him. In a word, few kings have the sense to
n c 'llect that they are men: Charles had not enough to conceive
how be could ho any thing more than a private gentleman: and
c ntentcd with chasing the forest-deer, instead of' bunting
down hi< subjects to teach some future Kinif of England how to
rub' over slaves and deal with traitors'.
It' Buonaparte had placed the crown of Spain on Ins own head
! seemed proud of it, "as he had titb-s manif Id"' to power
.-• r°icrnfy, there is no saying whai . I have happened:
but as if it had not already been band:, d about enough and trifled
with, be chose to transfer it once more ("to show how light and
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 411
worthless it was) and placed it on his brother Joseph's head.
This appears to have exhausted the patience of the Spaniards.
Their disgust and hatred broke out in the most furious and un-
qualified terms of abuse ; they called their new king "that barba-
rian. Joseph Buonaparte," " a monster;''"* and the juntas of the
different towns had the " Constitutional Act"' which was sent
them, burnt by the common hangman. There was certainly no-
thing surprising in tiiis. Custom is the Cod of ignorance : and
there will always be the greatest horror of innovation in the most
barbarous and uninformed minds, that is. whore there is the
greatest need of it. Those who read and reflect know what
changes have taken place or may vet take place in the world:
those who know only the obj- ct before them, what their senses or
their blind guides teach them, have no conception of any thing
else as possible or endurable; and look upon every change as a
violence done to nature. The strongest antipathies often exist
with the least reason for thein ; nor is this to be remedied, since
the passions arc the only safe-guard of those who have no means
of guarding against injustice or imposture by knowledge and
principle. Even the presence of Buonaparte and of the new king
himself could not extort any cordial or unqualified expressions of
allegiance from the nobles assembled at Bayonne (7th of June) to
offer their congratulations. The Duke de l'Infantado in particu-
lar stopped short in the midst of a complimentary address by sav-
ing that he could promise no more till the nation had confirmed
the choice, and drew upon himself on the spot one of Napoleon's
most vehement and pointed rebukes. " lou are a gentleman,
sir : behave like one: and instead of disputing on the terms of an
oath which you mean to break the first opportunity, go and pu<
yourself at the head of your party in Spain, fight openly and lov
allv. I will have your passport delivered to vou, and I give vou
rny word of honor that the advanced posts of mv army shall let
vou pass freely, without molesting vou. This is the course be-
coming a man of honor." The Duke stammered out a numbe*
* This "monster and barbarian"' had done more while king of Xarle.'
for a short time before to civilize and reform that wretched country thai
would have been done by a me/wg e rie of Bourbons in a million of year?
Shk Mejioius oi Tin: Deits of itovoo.
412 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of excuses and professions of fidelity : " You are wrong," said
the Emperor; " this is more serious than you think for: you
will forget your oath, and will render yourself liable to be shot — >
perhaps eight days hence."'
Notwithstanding these heats and the coldness which manifested
itself on this occasion, the Junta met, and after some discussion
adopted unanimously the Constitution proposed to them. It was
much the same as that afterwards established by the Cortes, so
i. ricd up at one time by our patriot.; and so uuerlv forgotten since
— it abolished the Inquisition, set aside feudal services, annulled
many oppressive imposts, and provided a check on the arbitrary
power of the crown, by restoring the Cortes or national represen-
tatives. Joseph formed an administration, among whom were the
Duke de I'Infantado and Don Pedro Cevallos, and set out on the
10th of July for .Madrid. The officers of state, the grandees of
Spain, the entire Junta, formed his escort on the road. By the
time that he had entered Spain, almost all the provinces were in
open revolt; the harbors were covered with the English fleets;
Biscay, Catalonia, Navarre. Valencia, Murcia, Andalusia. Estre-
rnadura, Galicia, the kingdom of Leon, the Asturias, with part
of the two Castiles, fired with enthusiam and revenge, were up
in arms ; and Saragossa, already besieged ever since the begin-
ninir of June, and defended by the gallant-minded Palafox, was
firmly resolved to bury itself under its ruins rather than open its
gates to the besiegers. His answer to a summons from the French
General to capitulate after a most sanguinary conflict will at
once explain the tone and spirit that animated this new war.
"Sn:, — If your master sends you to restore the tranquillity
which this country has never lost, it is needless that he should
take the trouble. If 1 am hound to repay the confidence which
this valiant people have shown in drawing mr j' roin the retirement
in which I lived, to place their interests and their glorv in mv
hands, it is plain 1 should he wanting to mv duty, were I to aban-
don them on the mere profession of a friendship in which 1 do not
believe.
'• My sword guards the gates of their capital, and my honor is
pie Iged for its security. The troops must take some repose, be-
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 413
cause they are exhausted with the exertions of the 15th and 10th,
though otherwise they are indefatigable, as I hope to be myself
" So far is the dame caused by the indignation of Spaniards at
the view of so many acts of injustice from being appeased, that it
is thereby the more increased. It is easy to see that the spies
whom you keep in pay send von false reports. A great part of
Catalonia has acknowledged my command, as well as a consider-
able portion of Castile. The captains-general of Valencia and
Murciahave joined me. Galicia, Estremadura, the Asturias, and
the four kingdoms of Andalusia are resolved to avenge our
wrongs. The troops give themselves up to the most violent ex-
cesses ; they plunder, insult, and massacre with impunity the
peaceable inhabitants who have given them no sort of provoca-
tion.
" Neither that nor the tone which your Excellency observes
since the loth and 16th are at all proper to satisfy a brave people.
'• Let your Excellency do what it pleases ; 1 shall know my
duty.
" The General of the troops of Arragon,
" Palafox."
h In my head-quarters at Saragossa,
the ISth of June, 1S08."
Such were the lofty port and words which at this period accom-
panied the most daring feats of arms. These undaunted expres-
sions did not however prevent the fall of Saragossa, though de-
fended by women also with more than masculine courage and self-
devotedness. It was twice taken and retaken with dreadful loss and
carnage. Through such a formidable array of hostility did the
new King reach Madrid on the '20th of July ; and after remain-
ing there eight days was forced in consequence of the capitula-
tion of Baylen to fly to Vittoria, to which a timely passage was
opened to him by the success of Marshal Bessieres at Medina del
Rio Soco.* The Emperor heard the news of this event and of
the disastrous affair of Andujar at Bordeaux on his way back to
Paris. On the 12th of August, the Council of Spain published a
* Joseph in the hurry of his flight left behind him. among other things
David's picture of Napoleon crossing the Alps.
414 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
decree rejecting and declaring null and void the abdication of
Charles IV. and Ferdinand, and the treaties concluded in conse-
quence between France and Spain.
This may be considered as the conclusion of the first act of the
drama of the Spanish Revolution. But in order to explain tins
result, it will be necessary to go somewhat more into detail. The
Spanish Juntas, which were established in every province, recom-
mended it to the troops to avoid general actions as much as pos-
sible, to make the contest one of partisan- warfare, and to avail
themselves of the advantages which the nature of the country and
habits of the people held out in a protracted and desultory con-
flict, instead of coming in contact in large masses and regular
combat with disciplined and veteran troops. But it was easier to
give this advice than to follow it. The contest was one of pas-
sion and vengeance ; and the impatience of the armed peasantry,
with their confidence in their own numbers and courage, induced
them to suspect treachery, and even to put to death those gene-
rals who would not lead them on to give immediate battle to the
French. Solano and Filangieri had both been sacrificed in this
manner. Blake succeeded the latter in the command of the Gali-
cian army, which was in this state of insubordination. Having
managed to form a junction with the levies of Castile and Leon
under Cuesta, they proceeded together towards Burgos; Cuesta,
though he had already been beaten by the French near Cahcron
(with the obstinacy and touchiness of an old soldier) wishing to
hazard the event of a battle, while Blake, dreading the superior-
ity of the French discipline, deprecated the risk of a general
action. Bessieres, who bad lately defeated the insurgents in
Biscay and Navarre in several partial actions, loft them however
no choice on the subject, lie came upon them suddenly near
Medina del Bio Seco, where, on the 1 1th of July, the combined
armies of Galicia and Castile suffered the most calamitous defeat
which the Spaniards had yet sustained. The insurgents fought
with extreme bravery — more than twenty thousand slain were
said to have been buried on the held of battle. The news of this
victory at so critical a point of time was a great relief to Buona-
parte. " It is," he said, " the battle of Villa-Viciosa. Bessieres
has put the crown on Joseph's head. The Spaniards have now
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 415
perhaps fifteen thousand men left, with some old blockhead al
their head : the resistance of the Peninsula is ended." The vic-
tory of Medina del Rio Seco did in fact enable the new King to
advance from Vittoria to Madrid, as well as to retire from it eight
days after without molestation. Ho had been received formally,
but without any of the usual demonstrations of joy on such occa
sions; nor did the inhabitants even repair to the theatres, though
they were thrown open at the public expense.
Hard upon the heels of this victory, however, followed intelli-
gence of a different stamp and of a more serious import. Du-
hesme (with the troops that had taken possession of Barcelona and
Figueras) was in hopes not only of maintaining himself in Cata-
lonia, but of advancing to assist in the subjugation of Valencia
and Arragon. lie was notwithstanding repulsed by the natives,
who made good the mountain-pass of Bruck against him, and com-
pelled him to return to Barcelona. Marshal Moncey met with no
better fortune in an expedition undertaken against Valencia. He
was opposed b\ all the phrenzy of popular feeling : the inhabitants
rushed to man the walls — monks, women mingled in the fray —
and unable to penetrate into the city, and disappointed of the re-
inforcement which lie expected from Duhesme, he was glad to
retreat towards the main French army, which occupied Old and
New Castile. A worse fate attended the division of Dupont,
which, after the entrance of Murat into Madrid, had been sent on
towards Cadiz ; but this attempt to secure that commercial city,
and to protect its harbor, seems to have been judged premature
by Napoleon, who might perhaps wish to leave the passage open
for Charles IV. to have made his escape to South America, in
case he had been so minded. Dupont's march was therefore
countermanded ; and he proceeded no farther than Toledo, till
the disposition of the Andalusians and of the inhabitants of Cadiz
showing itself more and more hostile, lie was ordered forward to
preserve that important seaport and the French fleet which was
lying there. He accordingly advanced southward, traversed the
Sierra Morena (where Don Quixote performed such wonders)
forced the passage of the Gaudalquiver, and gained possession of tiie
ancient town of Cordova. But Cadiz had already embraced the na.
tional cause ; the French squadron was in the hands of the Stan-
416 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
iards ; and Seville and its Junta were organizing large levies to be
added to a regular b ) Iv of ten thousand men under Castanos at the
camp of St. Rocque near Gibraltar. Dupont in this situation could
neither advance nor retreat. The passes of the Sierra Morena
were by this time occupied with the insurgent mountaineers. lie
solicited reinforcements from Portugal and .Madrid ; but Junot
had at present too much on his hands with the insurrection of the
natives and the threatened descent of the English to afford him as-
sistance, and lie was only joined by two brigades under G< neral
\ edel and Cohort, detached from the army in Castile. With this
addition, which made his force amount to twenty thousand men,
he thought himself strong enough to attack ; and accordingly pro-
ceeded to occupy Baylen, and took the old Moorish town of Jaen
by storm. Here they were presently encountered by Castanos
who had watched their movements ; and after a severe contest,
were compelled to fall back upon Baylen. Having learnt bv an
intercepted dispatch to Savary (who had succcedi d Murat in the
command of the army of Madrid) the straits to which the enemv
was reduced, the Spanish general followed up his advantage, and
on the IGth of July by an attack on various points drove the
French back on Andujar ; General Gobert was killed in the ac-
tion. On the night of the l v th and through the greater part of
the following day, the French ma.de a desperate attempt to re-
cover the village of Baylen, which was st aitlv defended against
them : and after a last effort to redeem the victory by a daring
charge at the head of his tro >ps. General 1 )upont f< mini himself en-
el >sed on all sides by a superior force, and obliged to surrender
with the troops under his immediate command, amounting to four-
teen or fifteen thousand men. The division of Vedel, which had
not been engaged, was excepted from this stipulation, but was
afterwards included in it by a breach of faith on the part of the
mis.
The event of this battle freed the south of Spain, with the rich
cities of Seville and Cadiz. IV. nn the dread of the invading armies :
and the new s of it shortly after reaching Madrid hastened Joseph's
departure from that city. Saraejossa still held out with the cour-
age of a ma." r behind her old Moorish battlements, till the con-
vent of Santa Encrracia faliinit in*o .'lie hands of the besieger*
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 417
enabled them to push their posts into the town. The French
general (Lefebvre Desnouettes) announced this success in atrium-
pliant summons : — " Santa Engracia — Capitulation." <; Saragossa
— War to the knife's blade," was the equally determined answer.
The threat was made good ; the citizens fought from street to street,
from house to house, from chamber to chamber ; the combatants
often occupied different apartments of the same house : and the pas-
sages which connected them were choked up with the dead. After
this dreadful struggle had continued for several weeks, the gal
hmt defence of Saragossa excited at once the courage and sym-
pathy of those who had at first looked on only with fear and dis-
trust ; and a considerable reinforcement was thrown into tiie
place in the beginning of August. The news of Dupont's sur
render became known soon after; and on the 13th of August,
Lefebvre Desnouettes evacuated the quarter of the city in his pos-
session. He blew up the church of Santa Engracia and other
buildings, and finally retreated from a city which had so valiantly
resisted ins arms.
Buonaparte was at Bourdeaux (as we have seen) when the ac-
count of the defeats of Andujar and Baylen readied him. He
bit his lips ; but it does not follow that lie saw in it the overthrow
of all his fortunes and Europe crumbling beneath his feet, as
some prophesiers after the event are fain to imagine. It did not
cloud the eclat of the rest of his progress to the. capital : he was
welcomed all the way by triumphal arches and the most unboun-
ded expressions of adulation as having revived the miracle of tiie
aire of Louis XIV., by uniting the dynasties of France and
Spain once more in his own person. The splendor of the achieve-
ment was too dazzling and too flattering to the national vanity to
suffer the French to look narrowly into the means. It was no.
till a reverse of fortune that their eves were opened to detect some
flaws in tr," title-deed to so much glorv, and to see the measure
(stripped of success and without any of the beneficial consequen
ues that were intended to flow from it) in all its abstract deformity.
This would have been the time (if at all) for them to have
snown themselves men, and to have rein mstrated against an act
of injustice and meanness; and not when their manhood was put
on only to escape a costigation. As for Great Britain, that noted
19*
419 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Dully and scold, aided by that hardened prostitute, the hireling
)ress, and that more hardened prostitute, a Ministerial .Majority
— hawking about her contraband wares and spurious bales of in-
iquity, scouring the seas and infesting the hind with her officious
alliance and shabby diplomacy, wheedling, bribing, raving, vomit-
ing out defiance and death on all who would not cane into hei
nefarious projects, winking at the seizure of Finland (in hopes the
Russian autocrat might in time fall into her views, seeing his
father's end before his eyes) standing and dancing with her arms
a-I\inibo on the smoking ruins of Copenhagen, and snapping her
lingers with barefaced contempt at the distinctions of right and
v.r ing like the Dutchman in Candida, "cur CJifin jr. su/'s inate/ut''
— passing up and down the Dardanelles in her frantic importunity
to make' the Grand Turk embrace the cause of that old hag Le-
gitimacy (whom hardly the houris of Paradise could rouse from
jus apathy) making common cause with Calabrian banditti and
hunting down the Guavas of Buenos Ayres on the plea of driving
a thriving trade in philanthropy — I would not believe a word that
she said, though she had blown a blast as loud as Orlando's born
at the pass of lloncesvalles, calling on Europe to rise in behalf of
Spanish patriotism, liberty, and independence; or that the popular
cause was any thing m ire than a stalking-horse made use of to
destroy the popular cause, either then when men could only judge
from the past, or now that it is proved by the sequel.
The Spanish insurgents were al first treated as rebels, which
very properly gave rise to reprisals; and this sore cured itself.
The troops also enforced military law against the peasants who
took up arms, a practice for which a precedent is said to have
been found in lluonaparte*s suppression of the revolt of Pavia, as
if that precedent was itself quite new to the principles and usages
of regular warfare. The peasants in their turn retaliated, and
'' 1! upon th" wounded, the sick, and the stragglers of the French
sdav, without mercv. In the temper and circumstances of the
tiir.e, it is quite as lilo Iv that they did not wait for any such prov-
•;..'ti< n to fall upon their enemies when they had them in t loo i
\wer In this manilestaiion of the national spirit the lowest
; ~es took the lead, as in other ^reat public commotions. Wo-
». -'.,, priests, all classes j pined in the quanvl, for it touched all
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 419
classes. The excesses to which it led, the grotesqueness of ap-
pearance it assumed are not here ascribed (nor ought they to be
so) to the madness or folly of the people, but to natural feeling
and strong aggravation. Blood was also shed. At Valencia, a
priest named Calvo incited the rabble to massacre upwards of
two hundred French residing in that city, on no other ground than
their being French. The Governor of Cadiz, Solano, falling un-
der popular suspicion, was immediately put to death, and many
such instances occurred. The Juntas called on the rich for pa-
triotic contributions ; on the priests to send the church-plate to the
mint ; on the poor to serve in the ranks or work on the fortifica-
tions. Mr. Southey's pen in tracing these events with the spirit
and fidelity peculiar to him, may be said to run on in a well-
known track ; and almost to parody an exploded original. The
subject seems to inspire him with a sparkling felicity, and " red-
olent of joy and youth, to breathe a second spring." There is in
the style a freshness and a fervor of feeling as in his earlier pro-
ductions, which he never fails to temper with an admirable de-
corum and even sanctity of sentiment. There are only two stri-
king features of distinction in the pictures of the two Revolution.-
— the want of a monk urging it on with a crucifix in the first, ana
of a king to be cashiered in the last ! No doubt the difference is
a very material one. While these events were passing in Spain,
Sir Arthur Wellesley, who had done much to extend the British
empire in India, and had recently distinguished himself by his
active share in violating the neutrality of Denmark, landed with
an army at Lisbon to assert the independence of Portugal. lie
gained the battle of Vimeira over Junot on the 21st of August,
1808, which however was rendered in a great measure abortive
by the indecision and changes among the British commanders,
three of them actually succeeding each other in one day- and the
affair ended in what at the time was considered as the disgracefu.
Convention of Cintra. Probably the actual advantages we had
gained might be overrated in the uneasy enthusiasm of the mo-
ment, as they were the first we had gained ; and for any thing
we knew at the time, might be the last. So near the brink of
the precipice had we come in the desperate attempt to push others
over !
420 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
It was in t 7, e interval between his return to Paris and his march
into Spain at the end of the year 1808, that Napoleon proceeded
to Erfurt to renew his intimacy and strengthen the connection
he had formed with the Emperor Alexander in the preceding au
tumn. It is needless to speak of the long acclamations and fes-
tive rejoicings which attended Buonaparte the whole way from
St. Cloud to Erfurt, where he arrived the 27th of September
early in the morning. The Emperor Alexander left Petersburg
on the 14th, and on the 18th had an interview with the King
and Queen of Prussia who came to Kdnigsberg to meet him.
He was received at Bromberg by the Duke of Montebello,
who had been sent forward for that purpose; and where the
division of Xansonty paid him military honors. Alexander said.
"he was pleased to find himself among so many brave men and
such fine soldiers." lie arrived at Weimar on the 2Gth, accom-
panied by .Marshal Lannes and escorted by the troops of Marshal
Soult, having passed through Leipsic and Frankfort-on-the-Oder.
Napoleon on his arrival at Erfurt was welcomed with the most
livelv congratulations of the people. The King of Saxony was
already there to meet him. After giving an audience to the Re-
gency and the municipality of Erfurt, the Emperor mounted on
horseback ; and having returned the visit of the King of Saxony,
rode out of the city by the gate of Weimar. At a short distance
he found the grenadiers of the guard, the seventeenth regiment of
infantry, the first of the hussars, and the sixth of the cuirassiers
drawn up in order of battle : after passing along the ranks, he or-
dered the cavalry forward on the road to \\ einiar, where presently
after (about a league and a half from the city) he met the Em-
peror Alexander. As soon as this prince saw Napoleon ho got
out of his carriage, and the Emperor alighted from his horse.
The two sovereigns then embraced with the greatest cordiality.
Thev then got on horseback as well as the Archduke Constan-
tino, and galloped along in front of the troops, who presented
arm-. The drums beat the charge. Numerous salvos of artillery
mingled with the sound of bells and with the shouts of a vast con-
course of spectators whom so extraordinary an event had drawn
together from all quarters. During the whole of the time that
the interview at Erfurt lasted, Alexande ' wore the Grand Cross
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 421
of the Legion of Honor, and Napoleon that of St. Andrew of
Russia. The latter being at home, constantly gave the right
hand to the Emperor Alexander. On the first day the two Em-
perors proceeded to the Russian palace and remained together an
hour. At half after three the Emperor Alexander went to re-
turn Napoleon's visit, who descended to the bottom of the stair-
case to receive him ; and when Alexander withdrew, he accom-
panied him to the entrance-door of the hall of the Guards. The
sentinels who lined the way, presented arms, and the drums beat
the charge. At six o'clock, the Emperor of Russia came to dine
with Napoleon. He did so on all the following clays. The pre-
cedence among the other sovereigns was determined by the order
of their adhesion to the Confederation of the Rhine. The King
of Saxony and the Archduke Constantine were present the first
day. At nine o'clock the Emperor conducted his guest back to
his palace, where they remained together tete-a-tete for an hour
and a half. The Emperor Alexander attended the Emperor Na-
poleon to the top of the stair-case. The city was illuminated.
The Prince of Weimar, and of Reuss, and the Princess of Tour
and Taxis arrived in the evening.
The same routine was repeated almost every day with little
variation. The two Emperors breakfasted alone, called on each
other in the course of the morning, and were together all the rest
of the day, either in public or by themselves. Napoleon had
been desirous to give the Emperor of Russia an opportunity of en-
joying the representation of the well-known chef-d'veuvres of the
French stage, and for this purpose had brought with him the
principal performers of the Theatre Francais — Talma. St. Prix
Damas, Lafond, Despres, Lacave, Varennes, with Madame Rau
court, Duchesnois, Bourgoing, Rose Dupuis, Gros, and Patrat.
The first representation given was that of Cinna : the second was
the tragedy of Andromache. The Emperor of Russia and the
other illustrious strangers who were present seemed t > relish more
and mere the master-pieces of the French drama, and to be par-
ticularly delighted with the admirable acting of Talma. At the
representation of Cinna, the box of the two Emperors was in the
centre of the first tier facing the stage. Napoleon thought he
rerecived at this distance the Emperor Alexander did not hear
35
422 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
sufficiently well, on account of a defect in that organ. Ho in
consequence gave orders to Count Remusat, his chamberlain, to
have a platform raised on the site of the orchestra, with two
elbow-chairs for the two Emperors and seats to the right and left
for the King of Saxony and the other sovereigns. They were
thus placed in view of the whole theatre. On the evening of the
performance of CEdipus, the two courts were assembled as usual
In the first scene of the play, Philoctetes addresses Dirnas, his
friend and counsellor : —
'• L'amitie d"un grand liomme est un bienfait des Dieux." *
At this line, the Emperor Alexander turning towards Napoleon
gave him his hand in a very graceful manner, as much as to sav,
that he considered his friendship in that light. This was the ap-
plication made by all those present. Napoleon bowed, but with
the air of one who declined so embarrassing a compliment. M. de
Talleyrand did not fail to be at the Emperor's levee that evening
to know precisely what had passed. On another occasion, as he
was about to enter the dining-room, the Emperor of Russia who
was going to lay aside his sword, found he had forgotten it. Na-
poleon approached, and begged him to accept of his. Alexander
took it eagerly, saying. '• 1 accept it as a mark of your friendship.
Your Majesty is well assured that I shall never draw it against
you' : — a protestation which would admit of an opposite construction.
On the 6th of October, the visitors at Erfurt accepted an invi-
tation from the reigning Duke of Weimar to pass a dav or two
with him. On the way a hunting pavilion had been erected in
the forest of Ettersburg, where the Emperor Alexander, who was
not fond of the pleasures of the chase from the shortness of his
bight, brought down (as his coi/p d'essai) a fine stay that passed
within eight paces of him. At night, the Death of Cccsar was
performed bv the Erench actors at the theatre of Weimar; and
aft i r the play there was a ball, in which Alexander danced or
rather walked a minuet with the Queen of Westphalia, the
• i ■ stra plaving a Polish march. During the ball, Buonaparte
had a long conversation with two celebrated Germans, Wieland
and Goethe, the author of Wertcr. \\ hile here, the Emperor
* ;; Tiie friendship of a great man is a benefit from the Gods/'
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 423
showed the most marked attention to the Duchess of Weimar, who
after the battle of Jena had saved Weimar from being given up
to the pillage of the French soldiers who had entered it at the
point of the bayonet, by the noble appeal she made to the gener-
osity of the victor. The next day, the Emperors went ovei the
field of the battle of Jena. In a tent erected on the spot where
he had bivouacked on the night before that celebrated battle
Napoleon received a deputation of the city and university of
Jena ; and after numberless inquiries and details on the subject,
distributed 300,000 francs to repair the damages done by fire and
other consequences of the long abode of his military hospitals in
that city.
The party returned to Erfurt to dinner about five o'clock.
This evening there was no play, as the actors had not had time
to get back ; for which reason the company sat longer than usual
at dinner. A question was started respecting the Golden Bull
which, before the establishment of the Confederation of the Rhine,
had served as a basis to regulate the election of the Emperors of
Germany, the number and quality of the Electors, &c. The
Prince-Primate went into some particulars concerning this Golden
Bull, which he said had been promulgated in 1409. The Em-
peror observed that the date which he assigned to the Bull was not
exact, and that it was proclaimed in 1330, under the reign of the
Emperor Charles IV. " That is true, Sire," replied the Prince-
Primate, " I was mistaken ; but how does it happen that your
Majesty is so well acquainted with these things V " When I
was a simple lieutenant in the second artillery," said Napoleon —
at this introduction there was on the part of the august guests a
marked expression of surprise. He resumed with a smile —
" When I had the honor to be a simple lieutenant in the second
company of artillery, I remained three years in garrison at
Valence. I was not fond of society and lived very retired. By
a lucky chance I happened to lodge at a bookseller's, a well
informed man and very obliging— I read throng!) his library ovei
and over during the three years I was kept in garrison there,
and have forgot nothing, even of matters which had nothing to do
with my profession. Besides, nature has given me a particular
lecollection of figures. 1 am often able, in discussions with my
424 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Ministers, to quote to them the details and numerical amount of
their accounts of the longest standing." — There was a just and
well-placed pride in thus speaking of himself in the presence of
all Europe as it were assembled at a banquet of kings ! After a
number of magnificent presents and honors lavished on all sides,
the two Emperors took leave of each other on the 14th of Octo-
ber, Alexander proceeding to St. Petersburg, and Napoleon re-
turning to Paris, where he arrived on the 18th of the month.
An account of Buonaparte's conversation with YVieland is extant,
given by Wieland himself; and is in every respect too interest-
ing and characteristic not to be inserted here.
'• I had been hardly a few minutes in the room," says Y\ ie-
land, "when Napoleon crossed it to come to us. I was presented
by the Duchess of Weimar with the usual ceremonies : he then
paid me some compliments in an affable tone, and looking sted-
fastly at me. Few men have appeared to me to possess in the
same degree the art of reading, at the first glance, the thoughts
of other men. He saw in an instant that notwithstanding my
celebrity I was simple in my manners and void of pretension ;
and as he seemed desirous of making a favorable impression on
me, he assumed the tone most likelv to attain his end. 1 have
never beheld any one more calm, more simple, more mild, or less
ostentatious in appearance : nothing about him indicated the
feeling of power in a great monarch : he sp ike to me as an old
acquaintance would speak to an equal ; and what was more ex-
traordinary on his part, he conversed with me exclusively for an
hour and a half, to the great surprise of the whole assembly. At
length, towards midnight, 1 b-o;;m to feel that it was improper to
detain him so long, and I took the liberty to demand permission
to retire : ' ( i > then.' said he in a fri ndl\ I 'in . ' g id ni^ht !'
•■ The f,lh wing are the most remarkable features in our con-
versation. The trauedy which had just been represented* having
le ! us t ) sp ak of Julius C;c.-ar, Xapoh on said that he was one
of the greatest men in history : and that lie would have been the
greatest of all, but for the filly which he committed. I was
l: iiu£ to a-k him to what fault he meant to allude, when seeming
to read my question in my eyes, he continued : ' Ctesar knew the
♦ La lion dc Ctcsar.
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 425
men that wanted to get rid of him ; he ought to have got rid of
them first.' If Napoleon could have seen what was then passing
through my mind, he would have read the conviction that no one
would ever accuse him of the like folly.*
" The Emperor paused an instant, pronounced a few words in
distinctly, and went on. From Ctesar the conversation naturally
turned to the Romans : he warmly eulogized their military and
political system. The Greeks, on the contrary, did not seem to
share his esteem. ' The eternal squabbles of their petty repub-
lics,' he said, ' were not calculated to give birth to any thing
grand : whereas the Romans were always occupied with great
things, and it was owing to this they raised up the Colossus which
bestrode the world.' I pleaded in favor of the arts and literature
of the Greeks : he treated them with disdain, and said that they
only made use of them to foment their dissensions. He prefer-
red Ossian to Homer. He was fond only of serious poetry, the
pathetic and vigorous writers, and above all, the tragic poets.
lie spoke of Ariosto in the same terms as the Cardinal Hippo-
lito of Este ; ignorant no doubt that it was giving me a box on the
ear. lie appeared to have no relish for any thing gav ; and in
spite of the prepossessing amenity of his manners, an observation
struck me often, lie seemed to be of bronze. Nevertheless, the
Emperor had put me so much at my ease, that I ventured to ask
him how it was that the public worship which he had restored in
France was not more philosophical and in harmony with the spi-
rit of the times ? ' My dear Wieland,' he replied, ' religion is
not meant for philosophers : they have no faith either in me 01
my priests : as to those who do believe, it would be difficult to
give them or to leave them too much of the marvellous. If 1 had
to frame a religion for philosophers, il would be just the reverse
of that of the credulous part of mankind.' "j"
* This prediction on the part of Wieland was. however, premature. ITc
was afterwards in a similar situation where others wanted to get rid of
him, and he neglected to strike the first blow as he ought.
i M tiller, the celebrated Swiss historian, has left a still more ample tes-
timony to Buonaparte's character. The following is taken from Midler's
Posthumous "Works : —
■ : On the 19th May. 1S07, I was informed by the Minister Secretary of
State. Maret. that at seven o'clock in tl e evening of the following day '
-426 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
Scarcely had Buonaparte returned to Paris before he had to set
out again for Spain. The campaign this time was little mere
than a military promenade ; there was no great battle fought,
nor any extraordinary manoeuvre executed. lie iiad not in fact
must wait on the Emperor Napoleon. I waited accordingly on this Min-
ister at the appoi ited hour, and was presented. The Emperor sit on a sofa:
a few persons whom I did not know stood at some distance in the apart-
ment. The Emperor began to speak of the History of Switzerland ; told
me that I ought to complete it : that even the more recent times had their
interest. He came to the work of mediation, discovered a very good will,
if we do not meddle with any thing foreign and remain quietly in the inte-
rior. He proceeded from the Swiss to the old Greek Constitutions and His-
tory, to the Theory of Constitutions, to the complete diversity of those of
Asia 'and the causes of this diversity in the climate, polygamy. &.C.). the
opposite characters of the Arabian (which the Emperor highly extolled).
and the Tartar Races (which led to the irruptions that all civilization had
always to dread from that quarter, and the necessity of a bulwark) the pe-
culiar value of European culture (never greater freedom, security of prop
erty. humanity, and better laws in general, than since the loth century) .
then how every thing was linked together, and in the inscrutable guidance
of an invisible h aid : and how lie himself had become great through his en-
emies: the great confederation of nations, the idea of which Henry IV.
never had: the foundation of all religion, and its necessity ; that man could
not well bear completely clear truth, and required to be kept in order; tho
possibility, however, of a more happy condition, if the numerous feuds
ceased, which were occasioned by too complicated constitutions (such as the
German), and the intolerable burden suffered by States from excessive ar-
mies. A great deal more besides was said, and indeed we spoke of almost
evory country and nation. The Emperor spoke at first in his usual man-
ner: but the nil -re in teres ing our c nversation became, he spoke in a lower
and 1 ■'■ er ' >n<\ so that I was obliged to bend my,elf quite down to his face;
and no man can have unders'ood what he said (and therefore many things
1 will t'.ot re] .eat . — I oppose! !iim occasi nally. and ho rut ere 1 into discus-
si n. Qjiile inn r:i d!y I 1 tr !y. as bef re God. 1 must say. that the va-
riety of his kn wl 'dire, the aeutene.-s of hi, observation, the s didity of his
understanding (not d iz/lii z wit . Ids grand and comprehensive views, fill ■ i
i e wi: h .-' hi-hment. and his m inner of ,pe iking to me. wit h 1 ive f v him
\ i ui '•■ ■ f Mar.-hals. and also the Duke of Ueiievento. had entered in the
oi'-mtin.e : he did not break off. After five quarters, or an hour .and a
ill ,ved the i m-ert to begin: and I know not. whether accidentally
■ r from go- lne-s. he desired pieces, wh: h. one of them cpeeially. had
i . e to pastoral life and the Swiss it' ■■.,.< >:■ ; I'tv o After this he
* ivsed iu a friendly manner and left the room — >'.i>^: the audience with
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 427
an equal enemy to contend with. The only striking feature of
the period was the dilatory advance and disastrous retreat of Sir
John Moore and the English under his command. Nap r Jeon left
Paris on the 29th of October, and reached Bayonne on the 3rd
of November. On the 7th he was at Vittoria, where his bro-
ther Joseph had remained, and where he found himself in the
midst of the army under Marshal Bessieres. The troops now
moved forward on Burgos, which place was taken by assault,
and treated with severity, the inhabitants firing from their win-
dows on the French troops as they entered. At the same time
Marshal Victor marched on the Spanish forces collected under
General Blake at Espinosa, attacked and routed them, and drove
them back on Reynosa. This disaster included the defeat of the
greater part of the troops that had escaped with the Marquis Ro-
mana from the isle of Furen in the Baltic, and who, being inju-
diciously brought into action by single battalions, perished inglo-
riously among the cliffs at Espinosa. Blake commanded the
Spanish army in the north of Spain ; Castanos in the centre near
Madrid ; Palafox in the east towards the Pyrenees. Nothing can
exceed the picture which is given of the deplorable state of these
armies at the period in question. They were without discipline,
concert, stores, or ammunition. The soldiers were in a state of
open rebellion against their leaders, and slew them on the slightest
suspicion or disgust : the generals were at variance alike with one
another and with the Supreme Junta. The latter sent commis-
sioners to the army who acted as spies and umpires over the Gen-
erals, and urged them forward on sure destruction, at their peril.
They seemed to have nothing to sustain their courage but their
good opinion of themselves and their hatred of the French, with
the love of their king and country — though the last could scarcely
be affirmed, for their patriotism was often of so instinctive and
Frederick (17S2), I never had a conversation on such a variety of subjects,
at least with any prince : if I can judge correctly from recollection. I must
give the Emperor the preference in point of solidity and comprehension:
Frederick was somewhat Voltairian. Besides, there is in his tone much
firmness and vigor, but in his mouth something as attractive and fascina-
ting as in Frederick. It was one of the most remarkable days of my life
By his genius and his disinterested goodness he has also conquered me."
428 LIFE OF NAPOLEOX.
merely animal a nature that they fought very well in defence ol
a particular spot, but could not understand the necessity of a
combined system of national defence or of securing the frontiers
as an inlet to the whole kingdom. Pa.afox having effected a
junction with Castanos is said to have hurried him by opprobri-
ous insinuations into a general action with the French troops sta-
tioned along the Ebro. It took place at Tudela on the 22d of
.November, with all the results which Castanos had foretold, and
left that General no resource but to escape with the broken relics
of his army to Calatayud, while Palafox retreated to Saragossa to
await a second siege and reap thankless renown. The road now
lay open to .Madrid except for the pass of Sommo-Sierra, about
ten miles from the city, and which was hitherto regarded as im-
pregnable. Buonaparte might indeed have gone round by Valla-
dolid, on which side no such formidable obstacle intervened. But
as the Spaniards were fond of miracles, he was willing to gra-
tify them ; and to their utter astonishment, took the pass of
Sommo-Sierra by a single charge of Polish lancers. After this,
not a single Spaniard was to be seen all the way to Madrid,
where the army arrived on the 1st of December. Madrid is>
not fortified ; but some persons thought of defending it piece-
meal and man to man. I have no objection that all the cap-
itals in the world should be defended in this manner (if it is so to
be understood) but feel no particular regret that Madrid was not
more than an}- other, as 1 have no particular fancv cither for
auto-da-fes or bull-fights. Some of the streets were however un-
paved for this purpose ; and the looks of the citizens spoke dag-
gers. It ended in nothing, as the constituted authorities with Don
Thomas Mori a at their head were not disposed to second the good
citizens of Madrid, which capitulated in the morning oi' the 4th
of December, after a number of parleys. The only attempt at
an irregular defence was made in the new barracks belonging to
the Guards. The common people and soldiers had collected here
to the amount of several thousands, determined to make a last
stand : a redoubt situated in the middle of the inner court was
garnished with cannon and vomited out death on all who ap
preached. It was not till after the lapse of a couple of hours
tnat the Corregidor and Alcaldes could get near enough to sum
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 49!
mon them to lay down their arms in consequence of the capitu-
lation having been signed. In their despair, the combatants broke
their muskets, spiked the guns, and rushed out of the place fran-
tic with rage and disappointment. The gate of Fuencarral oppo-
site the quarter where Buonaparte was chiefly stationed, contin-
ued to fire after all the other points of defence had done firing.
The commander of this post was found to be a M. St. Simon, a
French emigrant, who had been in the Spanish service ever since
the Revolution. He was about to be brought before a military
commission and would probably have suffered for his over-forward
zeal in the cause of Spanish patriotism, if his daughter had not
been advised to present herself before the Emperor, and intercede
for her father's life. This sort of appeal he hardly ever was known
to resist. Before quitting .Madrid, Buonaparte paid a visit privately
to the royal palaces, where he found his brother Joseph's picture
remaining where it was. and a curious collection of clocks and
watches with which the late King used to amuse himself for hours.
Sir John Moore and his army had been expected in Spain to-
wards the end of August, and might in that case have co-operated
to advantage with the Spanish troops ; but indecision and a want
of vigor in tin; Administration (which was not prompt in the use
of im ans from having hitherto us<'d them in vain) produced a de-
lav which amounted to a virtual abandonment of the project.
lie himself arrived with sixteen thousand men at Salamanca, en-
tering Spain by the frontiers of Portugal, and had ordered Sir
David Baird to advance from Corunna to Astorga with ten thou-
sand more, just in time to hear of the defeat and dispersion of the
Spanish armies under Blake, Castanos, and Palafox, whom he
was come to join and reinforce. In this situation he was greatly
at a loss how to act. He saw the danger of attempting to ad-
vance ; vet the expectations entertained of him. and the eager-
n \ss of the British public to second a cause which had at last
br (tight something like a feeling of liberty and a spirit of inde-
pendence to holster up the hypocritical excuses and selfish calcu-
lations en which they had so far trafficked in war, made him no-
sirous to do something. He consulted Mr. Frere, the British
minister and a sort of itinerant camp-critic and writer of dis.
patches (of the Canning school) who advised him to proceed by
430 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
all means and risk every thing for the chance of succoring Mad-
rid. Mr. Frere was a wit, a courtier, and an enthusiast in the
cause of Spanish liberty ; for he saw with what a different eye
courts and cabinets must regard that liberty or will of the people
which consisted in their determination to have no will of their
own, but to leave all power in the hands of kings and priests,
and that other sort of liberty which France had tried to obtain,
of having a will of her own and taking some of the supreme
power out of the hands of those that held it. One of these two
kinds of patriotism or liberty, which was both courtly and popu-
lar, was the finest opening and handle in the world for overturn
ing the other which had never been courtly and had ceased to be
popular. Sir John Moore, who was not of the Canning school,
having some misgivings of the cause and more of the success, de-
clined this challenge of the British Envoy. lie notwithstanding
resolved to move forward, in the hope of aiding the scattered re-
mains of Romana's army in Biscay, of diverting the attention of
the French from advancing farther south, and thinking at all
events to keep a retreat open for himself through Galicia. This
last step soon became necessary. lie had gone on to Mayorga,
where, on the 20th of December, he finned a junction with Sir
David Baird ; and advancing to Sahagun, a smart action took
place between the 15th English Hussars and a body of French
cavalry, greatly to the advantage of the former. The troops were
in the highest spirits and preparing to attack Soult, who had con-
centrated his forces behind the Carrion, when news was brought
that this general had been strongly reinforced ; that Buonaparte
had set out on the 'J"Jnd from Madrid at the head of ten thousand
of the Guard ; and that the French armies, who had boon march-
ing southward, had halted and taken a direction to the northwest,
as if to inclose and destroy the British army. A retreat became
inevitable, with every disadvantage of such a retreat, in the mid-
dle of winter, through bad roads, and a country of which our
officers at the time did not know how to take adwantae. ,
lor the purposes of d ■ i" •: 1 - • • or of furnishing their troops with
supplies. The gross deficiency of our commissariat-department
at that ep ich has been ace mm- i fir fr mi our insular situation,
which, sereeniiiir us ;V mi the' in c - '"v of foreign wars, leaves us
AFFAIRS OF SPAIN. 43l
ignorant of the means of subsisting large armies by land, and
may also bring into question our right to engage in them, since
we can hardly feel properly responsible for the evils which we
inflict with comparative impunity upon others. The soldiers, be-
sides, not relishing this retrograde movement, grew mutinous, got
drunk, and committed all sorts of outrages upon the inhabitants.
Nothing brought them to reason or put them in good humor, but
the prospect of meeting with the enemy. They tffen rallied and
fbughl with the greatest bravery and steadiness. On the 29th of
December the French, who had pressed upon our rear at Bene-
vente and thrown a large body of the Imperial cavalry across the
Exla, were driven back and defeated, and their General Lcfebvre
Desnouettes was taken prisoner. At Lugo again on the 6th of
January, they declined the offer of a similar encounter ; and in
disembarking at Corunna on the 16th, the combat which Soult
commenced with great boldness and numbers, proved fatal to
many of the assailants and to the English general (Sir John
Moore) while encouraging his soldiers to make sure of the vic-
tory. lie was buried on the ramparts, and ' : left alone with his
glory" — such as it was !
Buonaparte did not follow the retreating army further than
Astorga. He then returned to Valladolid, where he staid some
davs, and then proceeded in great haste to Paris, his return being
hastened by the news of an approaching rupture with Austria.
While at Valladolid he had several conferences with the Abbe de
Pradt, who made him laugh by comparing the ingratitude of the
Spaniards for the benefits he wished to confer upon them to the
behavior of Sganarelle's wife in the farce, who quarrels with a
stranger for trying to prevent her husband from beating her. He
also suppressed a monastery of Dominicans at Valladolid, where
a French officer had been assassinated and his body found in the
vaults of the eon vent. He called these monks before him to the
number of forty ; harangued and reviled them for their baseness;
and at last in his eagerness got alone in the midst of them, some
of them in their humility kneeling to kiss the hem of his gar-
ments. Had there been one true monk among the ijroup, the
scene might have ended differently — though less satisfactorily to
some people than it has done !
«*2 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XL I.
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09.
Napoleon returned to Paris on the 23d of January, 1809.
His Prefect of the Palace (uiio.se mule had suffered an accident
in fording the Exla) followed him on the 23th. One of the first
persons the latter met on going to the Thuilleries was the Count
de Montesquieu, who had heen appointed Grand-Chamberlain to
the Emperor in the place of the Prince of Benevento. This news
surprised M. de Bausset the more, as he had just parted with M.
Talleyrand, who had come to pay his court, and on whose coun-
tenance he had perceived no marks of the change nor of the dis-
agreement that had caused it.
In the course of the preceding year, Austria, seeing the exam-
ple set by Spain and that liberty was the word, grew patriotic, got
tired of the treaty of Presburg (of which she was glad enough at
the time) seized and opened the French despatches in time of
pence, raised the Lanclicrt. made an appeal to her subjects, and
hoped to recover under this new plea of popular enthusiasm and
national independence the successive losses she had sustained in
so many Coalitions to overturn popular rights and national inde-
pendence, and bow them to the earth under the yoke of feudal
aristocracy with its forty quarterings. The scheme failed this
fine too. England of course was at hand to encourage her to
venture once more in the new lottery which Legitimacy had
opened, and offered as usual to pay the expense. The distress
and poverty arising from the want of this money at present is
attributed to the excessive and unnatural growth of the popula-
tion. We are too poor now to take part in the stru^o-le of Greece
or other stat'-s to emancipate themselves from a despotic and hated
yoke. There has been no king's head struck off in the quarrel,
and it is not to be expected that the king's coin should pay foi
CAMPAIGN IN 1809. 433
any thing else. " But riches fineless were as poor as winter,"
without thai fillip to warm the icy chill of patriotism and set the
sluggish blood in motion.
The Archduke Charles was appointed generalissimo; and
early in the month of April published the Emperor's orders to
march into Bavaria and treat all that opposed him as enemies.
The same declaration was also made with respect to Russia. Ac-
cordingly, the Austrian troops entered the Bavarian territory on
the 10th and 11th of April, though Prince Metternich was still
at Paris without demanding his passports or saying a word on the
subject. It was an understood case. A telegraphic dispatch
gave the first notice of this event. Napoleon set out for Stras-
burg on the 13th and arrived there on the 16th at four in the
morning with the Empress Josephine, whom lie left there. He
crossed the. Rhine at the head of his fine troops, and marched
with the utmost speed to the succor of Bavaria. Numbers were
on the side of the Austrians (who had raised a larger army in
this case than they had ever done before) but Buonaparte made
up for this inferiority (as was his custom) by the celerity and
skill of his movements. He had with him, besides his own troops,
those of the confederation of the Rhine (who proved faithful to
their conqueror and ally) and also drew reinforcements from the
garrisons he had left in Prussia and in the North of Germany.
The Austrians hud six corps d'armee of thirty thousand each,
which constituted their force under the Archduke Charles ; one
in Galicia under the Archduke Ferdinand, ready to oppose the
Russians, should they be disposed to advance ; and two under the
Archduke John, intended to operate a diversion in Italy, by the
passes of Carinthia and Carmola — in all two hundred and seventy
thousand men. Buonaparte's line had been too much extended
(considering the fewness of his numbers) from north to south ;
and a gap was left in the middle, into which the Austrians (if
they had thought of it in time) might have pushed large masses,
and have thus cut his army in two. Alarmed at the possibility
of this, he hastened to place himself in the centre, the vulnerable-
point ; and turning doubtful hazards and even over-sights to his
advantage, sent precise and urgent orders to Massena to advance
by a lateral movement from Augsburg to Pfaffenhofen, and to Da.
vol.. ii. 20 37
434 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
voust to come up in the same manner from Ratisbon to Neustadt.
The order for this daring operation was given on the night of the
17th and speed and vigilance were recommended. Davoust hao
to march eight leagues and Massena twelve or thirteen to come
up to the appointed place of rendezvous. When the time neces-
sarv for executing these movements had elapsed, Buonaparte ai
the head of the centre of his forces made a sudden and desperate
assault on two Austrian divisions, commanded by General Mil
ler and the Archduke Louis ; and Davoust coming up on the
right flank of the Austrians in the middle of the engagement,
while .Massena made his appearance almost at the same instant
in the rear of the Archduke Louis, broke and threw their whole
line into the utmost disorder. This was the famous manoeuvre of
Abensberg, of which the Emperor sometimes spoke as the finest
of all his conceptions. This victory gained on ihe "20th of April
exposed the defeated army to further misfortunes, the Emperor
following up his advantage, and attacking the fugitives next day
at Landshut, where they lost thirty pieces of cannon and nine
thousand prisoners, besides ammunition and baggage.
On the '22nd the Emperor directed his whole force, meeting
from different points, against the principal army of the Archduke
Charles which was concentrated at Eckmuhl. Tue battle was
one of the most splendid which the art of war could display. A
hundred thousand men and upwards were dispossessed of all their
positions bv the combined attacks of their scientific adversary, the
divisions appearing on the field, each in its due place and order
as regularly as the movements of the various pieces on a chess-
board. All the Austrian wounded, great part of their artillery,
fifteen stand of colors, and twenty thousand prisoners remained
in the power of the French. The retn at was attended with pro-
portiouable loss; and Austria, again baffled in the hope of wreak-
ing her old grudge against France, was once more reduced to
co-tend for her existence, which had been so often lost and given
back to her to have the same unfair use made of it again.
On tin' subsequent day. the Austrians attempted to cover the
retreat of their army by defending Ilatisb >n. A partial breach in
the walls having been obstinately defended by a close discharge
of musketry, there was a difficulty in finding volunteers to renevr
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 433
the attack, when the noble-minded Lannes, seizing a ladder and
rushing forward to fix himself against the walls, "I will show
you," lie exclaimed, " that your general is still a grenadier."
The example prevailed ; the wall was surmounted ; and the
combat was continued in the streets of the town. Here a singu-
lar circumstance occurred. A body of French, pressing forward
to charge a body of Austrians who still occupied one end of a
burning street, were interrupted by some waggons belonging to
the enemy's artillery train. " They are barrels of powder,''
cried the Austrian commander to the French : " if the flames
leach them, both sides perish." The combat ceased ; and the
two parties joined in averting a danger which must have been
fatal to both, and finally saved the ammunition from the flames.
At length the Austrians were driven out of Ratisbon, leaving
much cannon, baggage, and a great many prisoners in the hands
of their enemies.
In the middle of the last mctte, Buonaparte who was observing
the affair at some distance and speaking to Duroc at the time,
was struck on the foot by a spent musket-ball, which occasioned
a severe contusion. i: That must have been a Tvroleso," said
the Emperor coollv, " who has hit me from such a distance :
those fellows fire with wonderful precision." Those around re-
monstrated with him on his exposing his person : to which ho
answered, " What can I do ? I must needs see how matters go
on." The soldiers crowded about him. alarmed at the report of
his wound ; but he would not allow it to be dressed, so eager \vas
he to get on horseback, and put an end to the solicitude of the
troops by showing himself publiclv among them.
Thus within five davs (the space and almost the very davs of
the month which Buonaparte had assigned for settling the affairs
of Germany) the original aspect of the war was entirely changed ;
and Austria, from the character of an aggressor in which she
was proud of appearing, was compelled to submit to one which she
hated and to which custom had not reconciled her. At no period
of his dazzling career did the genius of Xapoleon seem more com-
pletelv to prostrate all opposition: at no time perhaps did the
talents of a single individual exercise such an influence on the
fate of the world. The forces which he had in the field had been
436 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
not only unequal in numbers to those of the enemy ; but they
were in a military point of view misplaced and imperfectly com-
bined. Napoleon arrived alone; found himself under all these
disadvantages ; and by his unrivalled genius came in the course
of five days in complete triumph out #f a struggle which bore to
any one else a character so unpromising. It was no wonder that
others, nay that he himself should have annexed to his person the
degree of superstitious reverence claimed for the chosen instru-
ments of Destiny, whose path must not Le crossed, and whose arm
cannot he arrested.
While the relics of the Archduke Charles's army were in full
retreat to Bohemia, Napoleon employed the 23rd and 24th of
April in reviewing his troops and distributing honors and rewards
with a liberal hand. It was on occasions like these that he was
seen to the utmost advantage : if sometimes too much of the soldier
among sovereigns, no one could pretend with so good a right to
be a sovereign among soldiers. " I create you a knight : what
is your name ?" he said to a soldier, striking him familiarly on
the cheek. " You ought to know it well," answered the soldier,
'• since I am the man who in the deserts of Syria when you were
in extremity, relieved you from my flask." Napoleon instantly
recollected the individual and the circumstance : ,; I make you a
knight," lie said, " with an annuity of twelve hundred francs —
what will you do with so much money V " Drink with my
comrades to the health of him who is so necessary to us." The
Generals had their share in the Imperial bounty, particularly
Davoust, to whose brilliant execution of the manoeuvres com-
manded bv Napoleon the victory was in a great measure to he
attributed. He was created Duke of Hckmuhl. Napoleon bv
connectinc the names of 1 lie places where great battles were fought
with the titles of those who contributed to gain them, allied the
recollection of their merits with his own grateful acknowledg-
ment of them ; and made every new title lie conferred a power-
ful spur to fresh exertions in the pari) of honor ami ambition.
The Archduke Charles after the defeat at Eckmuhl threw him-
self into the defiles and mountainous pass n s of Bohemia, where
ne could have made a protracted defence, had Buonaparte chosen
x> follow him. But instead of entangling himself in the pursuit,
CAMPAIGN IN 1809. 437
being in possession of the right baMc of the Danube and of the
high road to that city, he marched straight to Vienna. It is true,
General Hiller, who had been repulsed at Landshut, had oeen
joined by a considerable reserve and was placed between him and
the capital : the Archduke, should he advance, might hang upon
his rear ; a strong spirit of discontent loured like a black cloud
over the mountains of the Tyro! ; and the north of Germany had
begun to manifest a feeling of soreness and resistance to the gall-
ing pressure of evils which they had intended for others, but had
never meant should come home to themselves. These doubtful
considerations, which might have staggered a man of less resolu-
tion than Buonaparte, only accelerated his determination to com-
pel Austria to a peace, by descending the Danube and occupying
her capital a second time. All was shortly in motion. General
Pliller, too weak to attempt the defence of the Inn, retreated to
Ebersbcrg, a village with a castle upon the river Traun, a posi-
tion which was deemed next to impregnable, and into which the
Austrians had thrown thirty thousand men. It was carried by
Massena on the 3d of May in a furious assault, in which the loss
was nearly equal to the victors and the vanquished. General
I Idler retired to St. Polten and crossed the Danube at Muntern,
hoping to effect his junction with the Archduke on the left bank,
and leaving the right open to Buonaparte's march on Vienna.
This city has no other fortifications than those which defended it
against the Turks in 1683. The Archduke Maximilian had the
command of the garrison, which was not numerous enough to hold
out against the enemy. The Emperor and the greater part of his
family had fled to Buda in Hungary ; only one remained behind,
the Archduchess Maria-Louisa, who was confined by indisposition,
and soon after destined to be carried away as a hostage and a bride.
The shower of bombs first fell on the palace, but as soon as
Buonaparte was apprised of the situation of the Archduchess, the
palace was spared, and the storm of missiles directed to other
quarters. The intention of defending the capital was not lonrj
persisted in ; the Archduke with his troops evacuated the city,
and the capitulation was signed on the 12th Buonaparte did not
enter Vienna, but fixed his head-quarters at Schonbrunu, a palaeo
37 *
438 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
of the Emperor's in the vicinity. The Archduke Charles, unable
to prevent the fall of Vienna, now thought only of relieving it.
He approached the left bank of the Danube, therefore, which
had been swoln by the rains and melting of the snow, and over
which the bridges had been destroyed to prevent the enemy from
passing at their ease, as they had done in 1805. Buonaparte,
who was on the right bank, anxious to give battle to the Arch-
duke and put an end to the contest, endeavored to pass over first
at Neusdorf about half a league above Vienna (where the stream
is narrow and rapid) — but failing in the attempt (five hundred
men whom he pushed across having been cut off and taken) he
proceeded to a place called Ebersdorf, two leagues below "\ ienna,
where the Danube is divided into five brandies, and here had a
bridge thrown across the islands which form them, the large Isle
of Lobau being the last or next to the left bank of the river. The
Archduke did not seem disposed to interrupt the construction of
the bridges or the passage of the river. On the 19th Buonaparte
hastened the finishing of the last bridge, and on the "20th passed
over with about thirty thousand infantry and six thousand horses,
occupying a little plain between the villages of Aspern to the left
and Es^iing on the right. Aspern was half a mile, Essling a
mile and three quarters from the bridge. These villages with a
redoubt hastily constructed to guard the bridge were occupied by
the French.
The reports brought in during the niejit concerning the enemy
were contradictory and uncertain. Many lights were seen on
the heights of Bisamberg; but nearer to the French and in their
front, the horizon exhibited a pale <*>-oak of about a league in
length, the reflected lii;ht of numerous watch-fires, which a rising
ground between prevented from being themselves visible. From
such indications as could be collected, hannes was of opinion that
they had only a strong rear-guard before them, while Massena
maintained that thev were in presence of the whole Austrian
drmv, Xapoleon was on horseback by break of day on the 21st
to judge for himself; but clouds of lierht troops prevented his
tretting near enough to reconnoitre accurately. Presently the
skirmishers were withdrawn, and the Austrians were seen advan-
cing with their whole force, double in number to the French, and
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 438
with two hundred and twenty pieces of artillery. Yet with this
vast disproportion of odds, they were strangely astonished at the
stand which they made on this occasion, as the French were mor-
tified and reproached with having suffered a repulse or made only
a drawn battle of it instead of a complete victory. The conflict
commenced about four in the afternoon with a furious attack on
the village of Aspern, which was taken and retaken several times,
and at the close of the day remained (except the church and
church-yard) in the possession of Massena, though on fire with the
b mibs and choked up with the slain. Essling was the object of
three general attacks, against all which the French stood their
ground. Lannes was at one time on the point of being overpow-
ered, had not Napoleon by a sudden charge of cavalry come to
his relief. Night separated the combatants. The next day the
battle was renewed, each party having received reinforcements.
The French retook the church of Aspern ; but the fighting was as
obstinate and sanguinary as ever. Buonaparte observing that the
Austrians bent ail their force on the village of Aspern on their
right, keeping back their left and centre, concluded that the last
were their feebh st points, and came to the immediate resolution
of moving forward the whole French centre and right wing, in
hopes of overpowering and outflanking them on their weak side.
The Austrian line was in danger of being turned and pierced by
this movement. The Archduke Charles with equal presence of
mind and intrepidity hastened to the spot where the shock was
greatest; filled up the chasms which had been made in his line
with the reserve ; and seizing a standard, himself led the grena-
diers to the charge. Thus stood the battle doubtful but fearful to
the Austrians, when suddenly the bridge which Buonaparte had
established over the Danube was swept away by the flood.
This accident made it necessary for the French General to
think of measures for securing or restoring his communications
with the right bank. Fortunately for him. that end of the bridge
which connected the Isle of Lobau with the left bank on which
they were fighting remained uninjured, and was protected by for-
tifications. This, together with the camion of Essling and the
extraordinary conduct and valor of the troops, enabled Buonaparte
to withdraw the remains of his army into the Isle of Lobau and
440 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
to establish himself there during the night. The loss on both
sides had been dreadful, being conjectured at twenty thousand
killed and wounded in each army. General St. Ililaire, one of
the best French generals, was killed in the action, and Lannes
mortally wounded was brought to die in the island. Both his
legs had been shattered to pieces in the last assault ; yet he refused
to die, and insisted that the surgeon ought to be hanged who could
not cure a Marshal and Duke of Montebello. He could only be
pacified when Buonaparte was near him, clung round him as ifeven
Death had not power to tear him from the God of lus idolatry,
and called upon his name to the last as if it were a spell to charm
anguish and despair. It could not be that he who was called the
Roland of the army was afraid of death ; but the memory of a
hundred victories swelled in his bosom, and he had not yet slaked
his thirst of glory ! Buonaparte lamented him much ; said he
had found him a mere swordsman, but that he soon rose to the
highest rank in his profession, and would have improved still more
had he lived ; and (what was the highest praise of all) spoke of
him as one of those who, he felt confident, would not have de-
serted him in his misfortunes !
On the morning of the 23rd. the day after the bloody battle of
Aspern, Napoleon found himself cooped up with his wounded and
diminished forces in the island of Lobau and another smaller one,
facing Enzersdorf, separated from the left bank by a channel only
forty yards wide. His communication with Davoust and the
troops on the right bank was completely cut off by the breaking
down of th'? bridges the day before. Here, had the enemy been
as alert in improving their advantages as he was in repairing his
disasters, he might have been assailed and overpowered ; yet the
Archduke in these circumstances did nothing, but remained spell-
bound bv the recollections of so many former defeats, provoked
and sustained. Buonaparte cm the other hand set to work with
unexampled activity, undismayed by his situation, patient ot his
repulse, submitting to necessity and mastering it as the horse is
tamed by the rider ; and on the morning of the second day had
re-established bis communications with Davoust ; had converted
the Isle of Lobau into an entrenched camp defended by battering,
cannon from surprise or storm : and had constructed three oridges
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 441
lower down (cither unsuspected or unopposed by the Austrians,
who still persisted in their first persuasion that he had no othei
mode of communication with the left bank than the bridge near
Aspern) by which he sallied forth a few days after to be once
more the assailant and the victor. lie might be said to laugh at
defeat ; and the impediments or stumbling-blocks thrown in his
way were only the vantage-ground from which he returned to
the charge with increased vigor and success.
New and formidable reinforcements were expected to join the
combatants. The Archduke John had been successful over the
Viceroy in Italy, and had compelled him to retire upon the Adige,
till the news of the defeat at Eckmuhl made him hasten back
through Hungary to his brother's assistance. lie was followed
by Eugene Beauharnais, who gained the frontiers of Hungary as
soon as he did ; and the town of Raab surrendering after a siege
of eight days opened the road for the Viceroy to join the Em-
peror ; while the Archduke John crossing the Danube at Pres-
burg below Vienna, hastened forward to effect his junction with
the Archduke Charles. Napoleon did not allow him time. On
the 5th of July, at ten o'clock at night, the French began to cross
from the islands in the Danube to the left-hand bank, either in
gun-boats which silenced the Austrian batteries or over the new
bridges which were out of reach of their fire. At day-light, the
Archduke had the unpleasant surprise of finding the whole
French army on the left bank of the river, after having turned
the fortifications which he had erected to oppose their passage.
Essling and Enzersdorf were taken, and the French line of battle
was formed on the extremity of the Archduke's left wing. lie
endeavored to outflank their right in turn, while the French made
a push to break the Austrian centre stationed at Wagram, of
which village only one house remained standing, and which was
occupied by the Archduke Charles, when night closed the battle.
Courier upon courier was sent to the Archduke John to hasten
his march. On the next day, the Gth of July, was fought the
fain )us battle of Wagram, in which the Archduke committed the
error of extending his line too much. The enemy perceived this
advantage, and Lauriston with a hundred pieces of cannon hav.
ing broken through the centre, and Davoust turning the whole
2ii*
M2 LIFE OF XAPOLFON.
left wing at the same time, decided the victory. Napoleon was
everywhere in the hottest of the fight, though the appearance o' -
his retinue drew on him a shower of grape by which he was con-
stant] v endangered. lie rode along in front of the line upon a
horse as white as snow called the Euphrates, and which, had been
a present from the Sophi of Persia. The shots were flying in
every direction ; and one of them hit .Marshal Bessieres, who fell
from his hors" as if struck by a thunderbolt. Buonaparte seeing
it, and thinking he was killi d, turned away and said, " Let us
avoid another scene,'' in allusion to Marshal Lannes. He com-
plained that the cavalry towards the close of the action did not
do their dutv, and had deprived him of the fruits of his victory.
Murat's absence was felt, who instead of brandishing a sword
was at this time wielding his new Neapolitan sceptre. The
French took twenty thousand prisoners, and so complete was the
discomfiture that when the Archduke John came up with a part
of his army before the battle was quite over, he was glad to retire
from the field unnoticed by the enemy. All hope of further re-
sistance was now abandoned by the Austrian generals and gov-
ernment ; and they concluded an armistice with Buonaparte at
Ziiaim, by which they agreed to evacuate the Tyrol, and put the
citadels of Brunn and Gratz into the hands of Napoleon as pledges
of their sincerity in demanding peace.
While Buonaparte was striking these bodv-blows at the Coali.
tion, its extremities seemed to feel the quivering and convulsive
throes of a last expiring agony. The' war in the' Tyrol assumed
a romantic and picturesque character, corresponding with the
habits of the natives and the nature of the scenery. The follow-
ing touching account of the condition of the people is given bv
one, whom (when he indulges the untrammelled bent of his mind)
ii i one can equal in beauty or in power. "The extremes of rank
and wealth are unknown in those pastoral districts; thev ha\e
almost no distinction among the inhabitants ; neither nobles nor
serfs, neither ufiiee-bearers nor dependents; in one sense, neither
rich nor pour. Their magistrates in peace and leaders in war
were no nth irwi-c distinguished irmii the rest of the nation than
by their sagacity and general intelligence As great a degree
of equality as is perhaps consistent with the existence of society
CAMPAIGN IN 1809. 443
is to be found in the Tyrol." And we are to be tantalized with
this picture, made studiously mild and amiable, not as a foil, but
as a cover to the designs of despotism : and by one, whom the
same words of liberty and equality, used in any other connection
and for any other purpose, would throw into the rage and hyster-
ics of a fine lady who sees a toad or spider near her. The poor
Tyrol ese did not know that it was the attempt to extend this
model of " the best possible" state of society for the benefit of
the common kind, and the determination of their lordly masters
to trample on and crush that spark of hope that threatened the
downfall of all that is corrupt and odious in governments, again
and again thrown back in defeat and dismay on the aggressors'
heads, that at length brought the tide of war and conquest into
the remote recesses of their mountain-fastnesses (free for that
reason) and rudely tore asunder all their previous habits and con-
nections. If there is any thing that could wound the ears of ab-
solute sovereigns, it must be the shrill cry of liberty raised in
their defence, when they know it is the fixed purpose to destroy
and betray its very name, on which they have staked and are still
ready to stake their own existence and that of all belonging to
theui. The lords of the earth must be sunk low indeed when
they are obliged to appeal to the people to raise them from the
dust. Xo wonder they so soon resent the interposition of their
subjects as an impertinence or dangerous freedom at best. The
Austrian government felt so little sympathy with the Tyroleso
that at the peace they were given up without any reluctance to
their fate ; and II offer with thirty others of these plebeian volun-
teers in the cause of Legitimacy expiated their mistake in not
knowing their own side of the question, as rebels and traitors on
the scaffold. While the Archduke John proceeded into Italy to
awaken the loyalty of the inhabitants in favor of their old mas-
ters, the Archduke Ferdinand advanced northward to kindle the
patriotism of the Poles in favor of their new oppressors. He had
over-run the Duchy of Warsaw, and might have made a present
of his share of the partition of Poland to the King of Prussia,
had not the royal hands been at this time tied up from receiving
back that recent and equitable acquisition. At the same time
Katt, Schill, and Dornberg raised the standard of revolt in tho
444 LIFE OF XAPOLEON.
north of Germany, and were resolved to set the King of Prussia
free in spite of himself. After the battle of Eckmuhl. he disa-
vowed their proceedings, and they perished in the adventurous
attempt to shake oil their new subjection and to return in triumph
and as avengers to their old bondage. These irregular and un-
governable ebullitions of loyalty and patriotism are well described
as opposed to " that cold and passive slavery of mind which makes
men as patient under a change of masters as the dull animal who
follows witli indifference any person who has the end of the hal-
ter in his band.'" It is the change of masters tiiat excites all the
resistance and resentment : the attempt to shake oil* the slavery
itself would call tor greater indignation and an universal combi-
nation to crush it. Man is not the only animal that submits to
slaveiy ; but he is the only animal that runs mad for love of it !
The Duke of Brunswick set up to play the antic about the same
time, with his banners in mourning and his death's-heads embla-
zoned on them — " his was a fee-grief due to his single breast" —
he had a father slain, as if he only had a father slain in that long
and bloody contest which his father provoked and announced to
Europe. The presumption implied under this mask of filial
piety is the best comment on the principles in which he had
been brought up. For sovereigns and princes to be in all other
respects privileged and unlike other men is an old story; but that
they should not be vulnerable to cannon-balls or that they should
not die of their wounds, is new and paradoxical. If their being
in this nic* point liable to the common lot entails revenge and ha-
tred on a whole nation who had dared to meet them in the fh Id,
really after this they have nothing more to do but to imitate the
example of the Navrs, who crv out to the Parias when they hear
them coming to get out of their way, lest if they should be con-
tai .:. ated u itli their si^ht, they sh ail i be obliged to kill them !
The Duke of Brunswick in spite of the risks he ran and the des-
ness of his undertaking, escaped bv g i "1 fortune to England,
" where the people were as mad as he ;" and fell at last on that
dav which sealed the doom his father had foretold to France and
freedom three-and-twrnty years before !
We figured at this eri-ds bv our well-known rxpedi ion to
\nt.verp and the island of Wulcheren, which cost the lives of
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 443
several thousand British troops cooped up in an unhealthy swamp;
and (more alarming still) might have cost the lives of two of our
British statesmen, who fought a duel about their share in the
honor of that disastrous enterprise. Fouche (as Minister of the
Interior for the time) did himself no good with his master by
sending Bernadotte (who was at Paris in a sort of disgrace for
claiming the merit of the battle of Wagram to himself) to take
the command of forty thousand men hastily collected for the de-
fence of Antwerp ; and by boasting in a proclamation, that ' : how-
ever Napoleon might add by his genius to the glory of France,
he was not necessary to enable Frenchmen to repel invaders
from her soil." Russia showed an evident disinclination to
join heartily as an ally with France against Austria, though
none to complete the annexation of Finland to her empire or to
march on the Turkish provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia with
the connivance of France, which had been made the price of
her alliance. Buonaparte saw through this conduct and the thin
veil of professions which disguised it. ' ; I must not give way,'
he said, "to a vain illusion. They have all sworn my ruin, but
have not the courage to compass it." The Pope too plaved his
cards with that instinctive cunning and evasive pertinacity with
which power clings to its own maintenance or to the shadow of
authority. His predecessor had proudly joined his banner to
that of Austria and marched against France in 1790 : he him-
self refused to join in any quarrel with the English (though
heretics) as universal father of the Christian church. Thus zeal
for Holy Church or Christian charity by dictating alternately
neutrality or hostility pointed to one and the same end. Pius
VII. refused peremptorily to man the fortress of Ancona against
the English or to let French troops march from Naples through
the Pope's territory to repel the invasion of Upper Italy by the
Austrians. lie was therefore dispossessed of his temporalities
which he made use of to screen the enemies of France; and as
ho on this excommunicated the Emperor, lie was conducted a
prisoner first to Savona and afterwards to Fontainebleau, so as to
place both the successor of Charlemagne and the successor of St.
Peter in no very pleasant or creditable point of view.
By the treaty of Schonbrunn Austria gave up less ihan from
38
446 LIFE OF NAPOLEON
the nature of her aggression and the losses she had sustained
there was reason to expect. What she chiefly ceded were some
states on the borders of Germany and Italy tending to strengthen
the province of Illyria belonging to France, and her only sea-
port of Trieste, so as to cut off the possibility of her communica-
tion with England. The moderation of the terms and the length
to which the conferences had run were afterwards supposed to be
better understood when the intended marriage of Napoleon with the
Archduchess Maria-Louisa came to be known. The conferences
were chiefly carried on by Buonaparte in person, who lavished
every attention and courtesy on the Austrian commissioners, so
that from his manner alone it was conjectured that something
more than mere politics or territorial arrangements was on the
carpet. This might however be a mere courtly conjecture, con-
jured up by brains ever on the watch for every turn of for-
tune. Yet it is certain that the serious steps towards a divorce
dated from this period. — Difficulties however sometimes arose, and
the course of the negociation did not run quite smooth ; and once
in particular, Napoleon coming out of his room with the Prince of
Neufchatel was heard to sav, " If they do not soon put an end to
it, I will send for the Grand-Duke of Wurtzburg and place the
Imperial crown of Austria on his head." It was during this de-
lay that he received the news of the battle of Talavera, which
vexed him a good deal : and it was a month before he learned the
particulars, owing to the interruption of the communications be-
tween Bayonne and Madrid. On this occasion he said of the of-
ficers commanding in Spain, "Those men are very self-sufficient.
I am allowed to possess some superiority of talent ; and yet 1
never think I can have an army sufficiently numerous to fight a
battle even witli an enemy I have been accustomed to defeat. 1
collect about me all the troops I can bring together ; they on the
contrary advance boldly to attack an enemy with whom they are
scarcely acquainted, and yet they only bring one half of their
troops to the contest. Is it possible to manoeuvre more awk-
wardlv ? I cannot be present everywhere. Ilr.d the three corps
of Soult. Nov, and Morlier been with me, I should have given
the Austrians work." At length peace was signed ; and the
same day he sent for M. Champagny, Minister of Foreign Affairs,
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 447
who had heen ostensibly carrying on a similar negociation wi'h
Count Metternich at Altenburg. He asked M. Champagnv, if he
had not been surprised at the little he had had to do at Altenburg
and at the turn things had taken ? Tbe other replied that " in
his quality of Minister of Foreign Affairs he indeed knew little
of what was passing." The Emperor laughed, and seemed to
enjoy the triumph over his Minister. He set off" for France two
days after (16th of October) and on the 1st of November received
the congratulations of the Senate on having fixed the peace and
happiness of the world on a solid and lasting basis.
While Buonaparte was at Schonbrunn, his life was in danger
from one of those accidents to which persons in his situation are al-
ways exposed. It was his custom to review the troops every morn-
ing in the court before the palace. He descended to the parade
by a flight of steps and generally stopped at the bottom to speak to
and receive petitions from different persons. One day, being
anxious to review some French prisoners that had been exchanged
and wanting to interrogate them more particularly as to their
situation, he did not pause in descending the steps of the palace,
but passed on directly towards the troops. An individual, dressed
in a plain blue frock and holding a paper in his hand, seeing that
Napoleon did not stop, insisted on following him and presenting
his petition himself. Berthier, who was in attendance on the Em-
peror, told him that he might deliver his petition when the re-
view was over: Napoleon, taken up with his prisoners, did not
perceive what was passing behind him. In spite of the recom-
mendation of the Prince of Neufchatel, the stranger continued to
follow, pretending that the object of his petition did not admit of
delay, and that lie must speak with Napoleon himself. General
Rapp, the aide-de-camp on duty, seeing that he still persevered
and thrust himself in among the general officers who formed
the Emperor's suite, seized him by the collar of his riding-coat,
at the same time loudly telling him to retire : in doing so, Rapp
felt the handle of some instrument which this man carried in a
side-pocket: he kept last hold of him, and gave him in charge to
two gnukirmns to secure and take him to the guard-house. On
examination a large knife was found upon him, with which he
confessed it was his intention to assassinate the Emperor. Napo-
443 LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
leon is said to have known nothing of what happened till he re.
turned to the palace, when he ordered the man to be brought be-
fore him. lie stated that he was the son of a Lutheran clergy-
man at Erfurt, and that he had left his own country to put in ex-
ecution the design in which he had just failed, but he considered
the attempt as the most glorious action of his life. Napoleon
asked, what harm he had done him ? lie answered, None ; but
that he was the most cruel enemy of Germany, which he had
ruined by the war he had waged against it. Buonaparte in
terrupted him by saying, " Why then did you not kill the Em
peror, as he was the cause of the war, and not I ?" He replied,
" Oh ! lie is a blockhead ; and if he were killed, another like
him would be put upon the throne ; but if you were dead it
would not be easy to find such another."* " But were I to par-
don you," resumed Napoleon, " would you not in gratitude re-
linquish the idea of assassinating me ?" " I would not advise
you," said this enthusiast, " for 1 have sworn your death."
" Surely this man is mad," said the Emperor, and he had his
physician Corvisart called to feel his pulse • but he declared that
it was quite steady and regular. The man, whose name was
Stubbs, was placed in confinement and kept without food or sleep
for twenty-four hours to try if this would have any effect upon
him. But he still refused to make any disclosures or to dis-
avow his purpose for the future. Napoleon wished to have
spared his life ; but the danger of the example and the man's ob-
stinacy were insisted on as doiiifj away the possibility of clemency
in his case. He was afterwards tried and shot.
O Meara irives another instance of the kind, which must have
occurred about the same period or shortly after.
" Another tone,'' proceeded the Emperor, " a letter was sent to
* Popular power when divided anion:: the multitude is destroyed and
tv. ;kencd 1'V discord and faction-; : when placed in the hands of an individ-
n :1. it is endangered by aiming at him personally. Monarchical power Ires
dv intakes of unity, and is safe from personal attack by its perpetu-
ity. There is no setting rid of the race, however mischievous ; and the o !y
v iv to keep the peace is by putting down or removing any one as a public
nuisance to whom they h ive ; iken a dislike as standing in the way either
of their momentary caprices or permanent authority. The alternative ia
no doubt a pleasant one
CAMPAIGN IN 1S09. 449
me by the King of Saxony, containing information that a certain
person was to leave Stutgard on a particular day for Paris, where
he would probably arrive on a day that was pointed out, and that
his intentions were to murder me. A minute description of his
person was also given. The police took its measures ; and on
the day pointed out he arrived. They had him watched. He
was seen to enter my chapel, to which I had gone on the celebra-
tion of some festival. He was arrested and examined. He con-
fessed his intentions and said, that when the people knelt down en
the elevation of the host, he saw me gazing at the fine women ; at
first he intended to advance and fire at me (in fact he had advanced
near to me at the moment) ; but upon a little reflection thought
that would not be sure enough, and he determined to stab me with
a knife which he had brought for the purpose. 1 did not like to
have him executed and ordered that he should be kept in prison.
When J. was no longer at the head of affairs, this man, who had
been detained in prison for several months after I had left Paris,
and ill-treated, I believe, got his liberty. Soon after, he said that
his designs were no longer to kill me ; but that he would murder
the King of Prussia for having ill-treated the Saxons and Saxony.
On my return from Elba 1 was to be present at the opening of the
Legislative Body, which was to be done with great state and cere-
mony. When I went to open the chamber, this same man, who
had got in, fell down by some accident, and a parcel, containing
some chemical preparation, exploded in his pocket, and wounded
him severely. It never has been clearly ascertained what his in-
tentions were at this time. It caused great alarm amongst the
Legislative Body, and he was arrested. I have since heard that
he threw himself into the Seine."
END OF OL. II.
58^
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below
I,
RECTB &
Jilt 4
R eceweo
3 1
58 00825 3196