THE TRAGEDY OF ST. HELENA

BY

SIR WALTER RUNCIMAN, BART. 

AUTHOR OF

"WINDJAMMERS AND SEA TRAMPS, ""THE SHELLBACK'S PROGRESS, ""LOOKING SEAWARD AGAIN, " ETC. 

T. FISHER UNWINLONDON: ADELPHI TERRACELEIPSIC: INSELSTRASSE 201911

PREFACE

In my early sea-life, I used to listen to the eccentric andcomplicated views expressed by a race of seamen long since passedaway. Occasionally there were amongst the crew one or two who had thetrue British hypothetical belief in the demoniacal character ofNapoleon, but this was not the general view of the men with whom Isailed; and after the lapse of many years, I often wonder how it cameabout that such definite partiality in regard to this wonderful beingcould have been formed, and the conclusion that impresses me most is, that his many acts of kindness to his own men, the absence of floggingand other debasing treatment in his own service, his generosity andconsideration for the comfort of British prisoners during the wars, his ultimate defeat by the combined forces of Europe, the despicableadvantage they took of the man who was their superior in everything, and to whom in other days the allied Kings had bent in homage, hadbecome known to the English sailors. 

How these rugged men came to their knowledge of Napoleon and formedtheir opinions about him may be explained in this way. Hundreds ofseamen and civilians were pressed into the King's service, many ofwhom were taken ruthlessly from vessels they partly owned andcommanded. Indeed, there was no distinction. The pressgangs capturedeverybody, irrespective of whether they were officers, common ableseamen, or boys, to say nothing of those who had no sea experience. Both my own grandfathers and two of my great uncles were kidnappedfrom their vessels and their families into the navy, and after manyyears of execrable treatment, hard fighting, and wounds, they landedback into their homes broken men, with no better prospect than tobegin life anew. It was natural that the numerous pressed men shoulddetest the ruffianly man-catchers and their employers, if not theservice they were forced into, and that they would nurse the wrongwhich had been done to them. 

They would have opportunities of comparing their own lot with that ofother nationalities engaged in combat against them, and though bothmight be bad, it comes quite natural to the sailor to imagine histreatment is worse than that of others; and there is copious evidencethat the British naval service was not at that period popular. Besides, they knew, as everybody else should have known, that Napoleonwas beloved by his navy and army alike. Then, after the Emperor hadasked for the hospitality of the British nation, and became its guestaboard the _Bellerophon_, the sailors saw what manner of man he was. And later, his voyage to St. Helena in the _Northumberland_ gave thema better chance of being impressed by his fascinating personality. Itis well known how popular he became aboard both ships; the men of thesquadron that was kept at St. Helena were also drawn to him insympathy, and many of the accounts show how, in their rough ardentway, they repudiated the falsehoods of his traducers. The exiledEmperor had become _their_ hero and _their_ martyr, just asimpressively as he was and remained that of the French; and from themand other sources were handed down to the generation of merchantseamen those tales which were told with the usual love of hyperbolecharacteristic of the sailor, and wiled away many dreary hours whiletraversing trackless oceans. They would talk about the sea fights ofAboukir and Trafalgar, and the battles of Arcola, Marengo, Jena, Austerlitz, the Russian campaign, the retreat from Moscow, hisdeportation to Elba, his escape therefrom, and his matchless marchinto Paris, and then the great encounter of Waterloo, combined withthe divorce of Josephine and the marriage with Marie Louise; all ofwhich, as I remember it now, was set forth in the most voluble andcomical manner. Some of their most engaging chanties were composedabout him, and the airs given to them, always pathetic and touching, were sung by the sailors in a way which showed that they wanted it tobe known that they had no hand in, and disavowed, the crime that wascommitted. As an example, I give four verses of the chanty "Boney wasa Warrior, " as it was sung in the days I speak of. It is jargon, butnone the less interesting. 

 "They sent him to St. Helena! Oh! aye, Oh! They sent him to St. Helena, John France Wa! (François. )

 Oh! Boney was ill-treated! Oh! aye, Oh! Oh! Boney was ill-treated, John France Wa!

 Oh! Boney's heart was broken! Oh! aye, Oh! Oh! Boney's heart was broken! John France Wa!

 But Boney was an Emperor! Oh! aye, Oh! But Boney was an Emperor! John France Wa!"

 --and so on. 

Although at that time I had, in common with others, anti-Napoleonicideas, I was impressed by the views of the sailors. Later in life, when on the eve of a long voyage, nearly forty years ago, I happenedto see Scott's "Life of Napoleon" on a bookstall, and being desirousof having my opinion confirmed, I bought it. A careful reading of thisbook was the means of convincing me of the fact that "Boney _was_ill-treated, " and this in face of the so-called evidence which SirWalter Scott had so obviously collected for the purpose of exoneratingthe then English Government. 

The new idea presented to my mind led me to take up a course ofserious reading, which comprised all the "Lives" of Napoleon on whichI could lay my hands, all the St. Helena Journals, and thecommentaries which have been written since their publication. As myknowledge of the great drama increased, I found my pro-Napoleonicideas increasing in fervour. Like the Psalmist when musing on thewickedness of man, "my heart was hot within me, and at the last Ispake with my tongue. "

I may here state in passing that there is no public figure who livedbefore or since his time who is surrounded with anything approachingthe colossal amount of literature which is centred on this man whosedazzling achievements amazed the world. Paradoxical though it mayappear now, in the years to come, when the impartial student hasfamiliarised himself with the most adverse criticisms, he will see inthis literature much of the hand of enmity, cowardice, and delusionand, as conviction forces itself upon him, there evolve therefrom therevelation of a senseless travesty of justice. 

I offer no apology for the opinions contained in this book, which havebeen arrived at as the result of many years of study and exhaustivereading. I give the volume to the public as it is, in the hope that itmay attract in other ways to a fair examination of Napoleon's complexand fascinating character. 

WALTER RUNCIMAN. 

_December 3, 1910. _

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ITHE ABODE OF DARKNESS

CHAPTER IITHE MAN OF THE REVOLUTION--CRITICISM, CONTEMPORARY AND OTHERWISE

CHAPTER IIITHREE GENERATIONS: MADAME LA MÈRE, MARIE LOUISE, AND THE KING OF ROME

CHAPTER IVTHE OLIGARCHY, THEIR AGENTS AND APOLOGISTS

CHAPTER VMESDAMES DE STAËL AND DE REMUSAT

CHAPTER VIJOSEPHINE

CHAPTER VIIRELIGIOUS NOTIONS OF NAPOLEON

BIBLIOGRAPHY

LIST OF EVENTS AND DATES HAVING REFERENCE TO NAPOLEON BONAPARTE

INDEX

CHAPTER I

THE ABODE OF DARKNESS

In Clause 2 of his last will, dated Longwood, April 15, 1821, theEmperor Napoleon states: "It is my wish that my ashes may repose onthe banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people whom I haveloved so well. "

At London, September 21, 1821, Count Bertrand and Count Montholonaddressed the following letter to the King of England:--

 "SIRE, --We now fulfil a sacred duty imposed on us by the Emperor Napoleon's last wishes--we claim his ashes. Your Ministers, Sire, are aware of his desire to repose in the midst of the people whom he loved so well. His wishes were communicated to the Governor of St. Helena, but that officer, without paying any regard to our protestations, caused him to be interred in that land of exile. His mother, listening to nothing but her grief, implores from you, Sire, demands from you, the ashes of her son; she demands from you the feeble consolation of watering his tomb with her tears. If on his barren rock as when on his throne, he was a terror of the world, when dead, his glory alone should survive him. We are, with respect, &c, &c, (Signed) COUNT BERTRAND. 

 COUNT MONTHOLON. "

In reply to this touching act of devotion to their dead chief theEnglish Ambassador at Paris wrote in December, 1821, that the EnglishGovernment only considered itself the depository of the Emperor'sashes, and that it would deliver them up to France as soon as thelatter Government should express a desire to that effect. The twoCounts immediately applied to the French Ministry, but without result. On May 1, 1822, a further letter was sent to Louis XVIII. , by thegrace of God King of France and Navarre, concerning the redepositingof the ashes of Napoleon, Emperor, thrice proclaimed by the grace ofthe people. 

On the accession of Louis Philippe to the throne the rival partieswere each struggling for ascendancy. The glory of the days of theEmpire had been stifled by the action of the European Powers and theirFrench allies, but the smouldering embers began to show signs ofrenewed activity, and a wave of Napoleonic popularity swept over theland. Philippe and his Ministry were not indifferent to what was goingon, and in order to distract attention from the chaos which the newcondition of things was creating, the plan of having the "ashes" ofthe illustrious chief brought to the country and the people whom he"loved so well" was suggested as a means of bringing tranquillity toFrance and security to the throne. 

M. Thiers, the head of a new Ministry, entered into negotiations withthe English Government, and M. Guizot addressed an official note toLord Palmerston, who was then Secretary for Foreign Affairs. 

This precious communication is embodied in the followingdocument:--"The undersigned, Ambassador Extraordinary andPlenipotentiary of His Majesty the King of the French, has the honour, conformably to instructions received from His Government, to informHis Excellency the Minister of Foreign Affairs to Her Majesty theQueen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, that the King ardentlydesires that the mortal remains of Napoleon may be deposited in a tombin France, in the country which he defended and rendered illustrious, and which proudly preserves the ashes of thousands of his companionsin arms, officers and soldiers, devoted with him to the service oftheir country. The undersigned is convinced that Her BritannicMajesty's Government will only see in this desire of His Majesty theKing of the French a just and pious feeling, and will give the ordersnecessary to the removal of any obstacle to the transfer of Napoleon'sremains from St. Helena to France. "

This document was sent to the British Embassy in Paris, and the wishesof M. Thiers and his Government were conveyed in orthodox fashion tothe British Foreign Secretary by the Ambassador, in the followingletter, dated Paris, May 4, 1840:--

 "MY LORD, --The French Government have been requested, in several petitions addressed to the Chambers, to take the necessary steps with regard to the Government of Her Majesty the Queen of Great Britain, in order to obtain an authorisation for removing the ashes of the Emperor Napoleon to Paris. These petitions were favourably received by the Chambers, who transmitted them to the President of the Council, and to the other Ministers, his colleagues. The Ministers having deliberated on this point, and the King having given his consent to the measures necessary to meet the object of the petitioners, M. Thiers yesterday announced to me officially the desire of the French Government that Her Majesty's Government would grant the necessary authority to enable them to remove the remains of the Emperor Napoleon from St. Helena to Paris. M. Thiers also calls my attention to the fact that the consent of the British Government to the projected measure would be one of the most efficacious means of cementing the union of the two countries, and of producing a friendly feeling between France and England. --(Signed) GRANVILLE. "

 So that this King of the French and M. Thiers realise, after a quarter of a century, that the hero who was driven to abdicate, and then banished from France, _did_ defend his country and make it illustrious, and that the removal of his ashes to France was the "_most_ efficacious means" of cementing the union of the country that forsook him in his misfortune with the country that sent him to perish on a rock. His ashes, indeed, were to produce a friendly feeling between these two countries. What a burlesque!

 Napoleon's motto was "Everything for the French people. " He seems to have predicted that after his death they would require his "ashes" to tranquillise an enraged people. Of the other contracting party he says in the fifth paragraph of his will:--"I die prematurely, assassinated by the English oligarchy and its deputy; the English nation will not be slow in avenging me. "

Well, it is requested that his ashes shall be given up to France sothat peace may prevail. And now follows the great act ofcondescension:--

 "MY LORD, --Her Majesty's Government having taken into consideration the request made by the French Government for an authorisation to remove the remains of the Emperor Napoleon from St. Helena to France, you are instructed to inform M. Thiers that Her Majesty's Government will with pleasure accede to the request. Her Majesty's Government entertains hopes that its readiness to comply with the wish expressed will be regarded in France as a proof of Her Majesty's desire to efface every trace of those national animosities which, during the life of the Emperor, engaged the two nations in war. Her Majesty's Government feels pleasure in believing that such sentiments, if they still exist, will be buried for ever in the tomb destined to receive the mortal remains of Napoleon. Her Majesty's Government, in concert with that of France, will arrange the measures necessary for effecting the removal. 

 --(Signed) PALMERSTON. "

One of the chief features of this State document is its veiledcondition that in consideration of H. B. M. Government giving up theremains of Napoleon, it is to be understood that every _trace_ ofnational animosity is to be effaced. Another is, now that his mortalremains are in question, he is styled "the Emperor Napoleon. "Twenty-five years before, when the atrocious crime of captivity wasplanned, Lord Keith, in the name of the British Government, addresseda communication to "General Bonaparte. " The title of Emperor which hiscountrymen had given to him was, until his death, officially ignored, and he was only allowed to be styled "General" Bonaparte--the rankwhich the British Government in that hour of his misfortune thoughtbest suited to their illustrious captive. He was, in fact, so far asrank was concerned, to be put on a level with some and beneath otherswho followed him into captivity. Well might he "protest in the face ofHeaven and mankind against the violence that was being enacted"towards him. Well might he appeal to history to avenge him. There isnothing in history to equal the malignancy of the conquerors'treatment of their fallen foe. We shall see now and hereafterprejudices making way, reluctantly it may be, but surely, for thejustice that should be done him. 

Three days after the gracious reply of the British Government, May 20, 1840, the French King signified his desire to carry out the wishes ofthe Chambers by putting the following document before them:--

 "GENTLEMEN, --The King has commanded Prince Joinville [his son] to repair with his frigate to the island of St. Helena, there to receive the mortal remains of the Emperor Napoleon. The frigate containing the remains of Napoleon will present itself, on its return, at the mouth of the Seine; another vessel will convey them to Paris; they will be deposited in the Hospital of the Invalides. Solemn ceremonies, both religious and military, will inaugurate the tomb which is to retain them for ever. It is of importance, gentlemen, that this august sepulture should not be exposed on a public place, amidst a noisy and unheeding crowd. The remains must be placed in a silent and sacred spot, where all those who respect glory and genius, greatness and misfortune, may visit them in reverential tranquillity. 

 "He was an Emperor and a King, he was the legitimate sovereign of our country, and, under this title, might be interred at St. Denis; but the ordinary sepulture of kings must not be accorded to Napoleon; he must still reign and command on the spot where the soldiers of France find a resting-place, and where those who are called upon to defend her will always seek for inspiration. His sword will be deposited in his tomb. 

 "Beneath the dome of the temple consecrated by religion to the God of Armies, a tomb worthy, _if possible_, of the name destined to be graven on it will be erected. The study of the artist should be to give to this monument a simple beauty, a noble form, and that aspect of solidity which shall appear to brave all the efforts of time. Napoleon must have a monument durable as his memory. The grant for which we have applied to the Chambers is to be employed in the removal of the remains to the Invalides, the funeral obsequies, and the construction of the tomb. We doubt not, gentlemen, that the Chamber will concur with patriotic emotion in the royal project which we have laid before them. Henceforth, France, and France alone, will possess all that remains of Napoleon; his tomb, like his fame, will belong solely to his country. 

 "The monarchy of 1830 is in fact the sole and legitimate heir of all the recollections in which France prides itself. It has remained for this monarchy, which was the first to rally all the strength and conciliate all the wishes of the French Revolution, to erect and to honour without fear the statue and the tomb of a popular hero; for there is one thing, and one thing alone, which does not dread a comparison with glory, and that is Liberty. "[1]

The appeal is generous and just in its conception and beautifullyphrased. It was received with enthusiasm throughout the whole ofFrance. Louis Philippe and his Government had accurately gauged whatwould, more than anything, for the time being, subdue the rumblingindications of discord and revolt. The King had by this popular actcaught the imagination of the people. He had made his seat on thethrone secure for a time, and his name was immortal. The great mass ofthe people and his Government were behind him, and he made use of thisto his own advantage. Napoleon's dying wish is to be consummated. "Theblind hatred of kings" is relaxed; they are no longer afraid of hismortal remains; they see, and see correctly, that if they continue to"pursue his blood" he will be "avenged, nay, but, perchance, cruellyavenged. " The old and the new generation of Frenchmen clamour that asmuch as may be of the stigma that rests upon them shall be removed, threatening reprisals if it be not quickly done. The BritishGovernment diplomatically, and with almost comic celerity, gravelydrop "the General Bonaparte" and style their dead captive "the EmperorNapoleon. "

Louis Philippe, overwhelmed with the greatness of the dead monarch, bursts forth in eloquent praise of this so-called "usurper" of otherdays. He was not only an Emperor and a King, but the _legitimatesovereign_ of his country. No ordinary sepulture is to be his--it isto be an august sepulture, a silent sacred spot which those whorespect glory, genius, and greatness may visit in "reverentialtranquillity. " Henceforth, by Royal Proclamation, history is to knowhim as an Emperor and a King. He is to have a tomb as durable as hismemory, and his tomb and fame are to belong to his country forevermore. The legitimate heir of Napoleon's glory is the author of oneof the finest panegyrics that has ever been written; a political move, if you will, but none the less the document is glowing with theartistic phrasing that appeals to the perceptions of an emotionalrace. 

But the real sincerity was obviously not so much in the author of thedocument as in the great masses, who were intoxicated with the desireto have the remains of their great hero brought home to the people hehad loved so well. It may easily be imagined how superfluously theFrench King and his Government patted each other on the back inself-adoration for the act of funereal restoration which they tookcredit for having instituted. If they took too much credit it was onlynatural. But not an item of what is their due should be taken fromthem. The world must be grateful to whoever took a part in so noble adeed. At the same time the world will not exonerate the two officialcontracting parties from being exactly free from interested motives. The one desired to maintain domestic harmony, and this could only beassured by recalling the days of their nation's glory; and the other, _i. E. _, the British Government, had their eye on some Eastern businesswhich Palmerston desired to go smoothly, and so the dead Emperor wasmade the medium of tranquillity, and, it may be, expediency, in bothcases. 

In short, Prince Joinville was despatched from Toulon in feverishhaste with the frigate _Bellespoule_ and the corvette _Favorite_. These vessels were piously fitted out to suit the august occasion. Whatever the motives or influences, seen or unseen, that prompted thetwo Governments to carry out this unquestionable act of justice to thenation, to Napoleon's family, his comrades in arms who were stillliving, yea, and to all the peoples of the earth who were possessed ofhumane instincts, yet it is pretty certain that fear of a popularrising suggested the idea, and the genius who thought of therestoration of the Emperor's ashes as a means of subduing thegathering storm may be regarded as a public benefactor. 

But be all this as it may, it is doubtful if anything so ludicrouslyfarcical is known to history as the mortal terror of this man'sinfluence, living or dead. The very name of him, animate or inanimate, made thrones rock and Ministers shiver. Such was their terror, thatthe Allies, as they were called (inspired, as Napoleon believed, bythe British Government--and nothing has transpired to disprove histheory) banished him to a rock in mid-ocean, caged him up in a houseoverrun with rats, put him on strict allowance of rations, and guardedhim with warships, a regiment of soldiers with fixed bayonets, and theuneasy spirit of Sir Hudson Lowe. 

After six years of unspeakable treatment he is said to have died ofcancer in the stomach. Doubtless he did, but it is quite reasonable tosuppose that the conditions under which he was placed in an unhealthyclimate, together with perpetual petty irritations, brought aboutpremature death, and it is highly probable that the malady might havebeen prevented altogether under different circumstances. At any rate, he was without disease when Captain Cockburn handed him over, and forsome time after. But he knew his own mental and physical make-up; heknew that in many ways he was differently constituted from other men. His habits of life were different, and therefore his gaolers shouldhave been especially careful not to subject this singularly organisedman to a poisonous climate and to an unheard-of system of cruelty. Yes, and they would have been well advised had they guarded withgreater humanity the fair fame of a great people, and not wantonlycommitted acts that have left a stigma on the British name. 

Sir Walter Scott, who cannot be regarded as an impartial historian ofthe Napoleonic regime, does not, in his unfortunate "Life ofNapoleon, " produce one single fact or argument that will exculpate theBritish Government of that time from having violated every humane law. The State papers so generously put at his disposal by the EnglishMinistry do not aid him in proving that they could not have found amore suitable place or climate for their distinguished prisoner, orthat he would have died of cancer anyhow. The object of the good SirWalter is obvious, and the distressing thing is that this excellentman should have been used for the purpose of whitewashing the BritishAdministration. 

The great novelist is assured that the "ex-Emperor" was pre-disposedto the "cruel complaint of which his father died. " "The progress ofthe disease is slow and insidious, " says he, which may be true enough, but predisposition can be either checked or accelerated, and thecourse adopted towards Napoleon was not calculated to retard, butencourage it. But in order to palliate the actions of the BritishGovernment and their blindly devoted adherents at St. Helena, Gourgaud, who was not always strictly loyal to his imperialbenefactor, is quoted as having stated that he disbelieved in theEmperor's illness, and that the English were much imposed upon. 

Why does Scott quote Gourgaud if, as he says, it is probable that themalady was in slow progress even before 1817? The reason is quiteclear. He wishes to convey the impression that St. Helena has asalubrious climate, that the Emperor was treated with indulgentcourtesy, and had abundance to eat and drink. It will be seen, however, by the records of other chroniclers who were in constantattendance on His Majesty, that Sir Walter Scott's version cannot berelied upon. 

If the statements in the annexed letter are true--and there is nosubstantial reason for doubting them, supported as they are byfacts--then it is a complete refutation of what Scott has written asto the health-giving qualities of the island. 

Here is the statement of the Emperor's medical adviser (see p. 517, Appendix, vol. Ii. , "Napoleon in Exile"):--

 "The following extract of an official letter transmitted by me to the Lords of the Admiralty, and dated the 28th October, 1818, containing a statement of the vexations inflicted upon Napoleon, will show that the fatal event which has since taken place at St. Helena was most distinctly pointed out by me to His Majesty's Ministers. 

 "I think it my duty to state, as his late medical attendant, that considering the disease of the liver with which he is afflicted, the progress it has made in him, and reflecting upon the great mortality produced by that complaint in the island of St. Helena (so strongly exemplified in the number of deaths in the 66th Regiment, the St. Helena regiment, the squadron, and Europeans in general, and particularly in His Majesty's ship _Conqueror_, which ship has lost about one-sixth of her complement, nearly the whole of whom have died within the last eight months), it is my opinion that the life of Napoleon Bonaparte will be endangered by a longer residence in such a climate as that of St. Helena, especially if that residence be aggravated by a continuance of those disturbances and irritations to which he has hitherto been subjected, and of which it is the nature of his distemper to render him peculiarly susceptible. --(Signed) BARRY E. O'MEARA, Surgeon R. N. To John Wilson Croker, Esq. , Secretary to the Admiralty. "

It is a terrible reflection to think that this note of warning shouldhave gone unheeded. A body of men with a spark of humane feeling wouldhave thrown political exigencies to the winds and defied all thepowers of earth and hell to prevent them from at once offering theirprisoner a home in the land of a generous people. What had they tofear from a man whose political career ended when he gave himself upto the captain of the _Bellerophon_, and whose health was nowshattered by disease and ill-usage? Had the common people of thisnation known all that was being perpetrated in their name, the Duke ofWellington and all his myrmidons could not have withstood the revoltagainst it, and were such treatment to be meted out to a politicalprisoner of our day, the wrath of the nation might break forth in away that would teach tyrants a salutary lesson. 

But this great man was at the mercy of a lot of little men. They weretoo cowardly to shoot him, so they determined on a cunning dastardlyprocess of slow assassination. The pious bard who sings the praises ofNapoleon's executioners--Wellington and his coadjutors--and whose"History" was unworthy of the reputations of himself and hispublishers, will have sunk into oblivion when the fiery soul of the"Sultan Kebir"[2] will seize on the imagination of generations yetunborn, and intoxicate them with the memory of the deeds that he haddone. 

Napoleon has said, "In the course of time, nothing will be thought sofine nor seize the attention so much as the doing of justice to me. Ishall gain ground every day on the minds of the people. My name willbecome the star of their rights, it will be the expression of theirregrets. "[3] This statement is as prophetic as many others, more orless important, made by Napoleon to one or other of his suite. It isremarkable how accurately he foretold events and the impressions thatwould be formed of himself. 

Had the warning given so frequently to Sir Hudson Lowe been conveyedto his Government, and had they acted upon it, there is little doubtthat a change of climate would have prolonged the Emperor's life. Butin going over those dreary nauseous documents which relate the tale, one becomes permeated with the belief that the intention was totorture, if not to kill. Dr. Antommarchi, who succeeded Dr. O'Meara asmedical attendant to the Emperor, confirms all that O'Meara hadconveyed so frequently to the Governor and to the Admiralty. TheCouncil sent for him to give them information as to the climate ofSt. Helena. They express the opinion that at Longwood it is "good. "Antommarchi replies, "Horrible, " "Cold, " "Hot, " "Dry, " "Damp, ""Variation of atmosphere twenty times in a day. " "But, " said they, "this had no influence on General Bonaparte's health, " and the bluntreply of Antommarchi is flung at them, "It sent him to his grave. ""But, " came the question, "what would have been the consequences of achange of residence?" "That he would still be living, " saidAntommarchi. The dialogue continues, the doctor scoring heavily allthe way through. At length one of the Council becomes offended at hisdaring frankness, and blurts forth in "statesmanlike" anger: "Whatsignifies, after all, the death of General Bonaparte? It rids us of animplacable enemy. "

This noble expression of opinion was given three days after George IV. Had deplored the death of Napoleon. It is not of much consequence, except to confirm the belief of the French that the death-warrant hadbeen issued. The popular opinion at the time when the Emperor gavehimself up to the British was that had he come in contact with GeorgeIV. The great tragedy would not have happened. 

We are not, however, solely dependent on what the two doctors havesaid concerning the cause of his untimely demise. All those who knewanything about Longwood, from the common sailor or soldier upwards, were aware of the baneful nature of its climate. Counts Las Cases, Montholon, and Bertrand had each represented it to the righteous SirHudson Lowe as being deadly to the health of their Emperor. Discounttheir statements as you will, the conviction forces itself upon youthat their contentions are in the main, if not wholly, reliable. 

But the climate, trying and severe as it was, cannot be entirelyblamed for killing him, though it did the best part of it. Admiral SirGeorge Cockburn, while he acted as Governor, seems to have causedoccasional trouble to the French by the unnecessary restrictions putupon them, but by the accounts given he was not unkindly disposed. Heshowed real anxiety to make the position as agreeable to them as hecould, and no doubt used his judgment instead of carrying out to theletter the cast-iron instructions given to him by Bathurst. TheEmperor spoke of him as having the heart of a soldier, and regrettedhis removal to give place to Sir Hudson Lowe, who arrived in the_Phaeton_ on April 14, 1816. 

The new Governor's rude, senseless conduct on the occasion of hisfirst visit to Longwood indicated forebodings of trouble. He does notappear to have had the slightest notion of how to behave, or that hewas about to be introduced to a man who had completely governed thedestinies of Europe for twenty years. Napoleon with his eagle eye andpenetrating vision measured the man's character and capabilities at aglance. He said to his friends, "That man is malevolent; his eye isthat of a hyena. " Subsequent events only intensified this belief. 

Perhaps the best that can be said of Lowe is that he possesseddistorted human intelligence. He was amiable when he pleased, a goodbusiness man, so it is said, and the domestic part of his life hasnever been assailed; but it would be a libel on all decency to saythat he was suited to the delicate and responsible post he was sent tofulfil. In fact, all his actions prove him to have been without anatom of tact, judgment, or administrative quality, and his nature hada big unsympathetic flaw in it. The fact is, there are indicationsthat his nature was warped from the beginning, and that he was justthe very kind of man who ought never to have been sent to a post ofsuch varied responsibilities. His appointment shows how appallinglyignorant or wicked the Government, or Bathurst, were in theirselection of him. 

He was a monomaniac pure and simple. If they thought him best suitedto pursue a policy of vindictiveness, then their choice was perfect, though it was a violation of all moral law. If, on the other hand, they were not aware of his unsuitableness, they showed eithercarelessness or incapacity which will rank them beneath mediocrity, and by their act they stamped the English name with ignominy. And yetthere is a pathos at the end of it all when he was brought to see thecold, inanimate form of the dead monarch. He was seized with fear, smitten with the dread of retribution, and exclaimed to Montholon, "His death is my ruin. "[4]

Forsyth has done his utmost to justify the actions of Hudson Lowe, butno one can read his work without feeling that the historian wasconscious all through of an abortive task. He reproduces in vain theinstructions and correspondence between Lowe and his Government, andthe letters and conversations with Napoleon and members of hishousehold, and deduces from these that the Governor could not haveacted otherwise than in the manner he did. It is easy to twist wordsused either in conversations or letters into meanings which they werenever intended to convey, but there are too many evidences ofcold-blooded outbursts of tyrannical intent to be set aside, andthese make it impossible to regard Sir Hudson Lowe in any other lightthan that of a petty little despot. 

He had ability of a kind. Napoleon said he was eminently suited to"command bandits or deserters, " and tells him in that memorable verbalconversation which arose through Lowe requesting that 200, 000 francsper annum should be found as a contribution towards the expenses atLongwood: "I have never heard your name mentioned except as a brigandchief. You never suffer a day to pass without torturing me with yourinsults. " This undoubtedly was a bitter attack, and the plainspokenwords used must have wounded Lowe intensely. Probably Napoleonhimself, on reflection, thought them too severe, even though they maybe presumed to be literally true, and it may be taken for granted thatthey would never have been uttered but for the spiteful provocation. 

A more discerning man would have foreseen that he could not treat agreat being like the late Emperor of the French as though _he_ were aCorsican brigand without having to pay a severe penalty. An ordinaryprisoner might have submitted with amiable resignation to thedisciplinary methods which, to the oblique vision of Sir Hudson Lowe, seemed to be necessary, but to treat the Emperor as though he were inthat category was a perversion of all decency, and no one but a HudsonLowe would have attempted it. It is quite certain that the dethronedarbiter of Europe never, in his most exalted period, treated any ofhis subordinates with such airs of majesty as St. Helena's Governoradopted towards him. 

Lowe seems to have had an inherent notion that the position in whichhe was placed entitled him to pursue a policy of unrelenting severity, and that homage should be paid as his reward. He thirsted for respectto be shown himself, and was amazed at the inordinate ingratitude ofthe French in not recognising his amiable qualities. It was his habitto remind them that but for his clemency in carrying out theinstructions of Bathurst and those who acted with him, their conditioncould be made unendurable. He was incapable of grasping the loftypersonality of the persecuted guest of England. 

The popular, though erroneous, idea that Napoleon was, and ever hadbeen, a beast of prey, fascinated him; his days were occupied inplanning out schemes of closer supervision, and his nights werehaunted with the vision of his charge smashing down every barrier hehad racked his intellect to construct, and then vanishing from thebenevolent custody of his saintly Government to again wage sanguinarywar and spill rivers of blood. The awful presentiment of escape andthe consequences of it were ever lacerating his uneasy spirit, andthus he never allowed himself to be forgotten; restrictions impishlyvexatious were ordered with monotonous regularity. Napoleon aptlydescribed Lowe as "being afflicted with an inveterate itch. "

Montholon, in vol. I. P. 184, relates how Lowe would often leap out ofbed in the middle of the night, after dreaming of the Emperor'sflight, mount his horse and ride, like a man demented, to Longwood, only to be assured by the officer on duty that all was well and thatthe smitten hero was still his prisoner. When Napoleon was told ofthese nocturnal visitations, he was overcome with mirth, but at thesame time filled with contempt, not alone for this amazing specimen, but for the creatures who had created him a dignitary. 

The tragic farce of sending the Emperor to the poisonous plateau ofLongwood, and giving Lowe Plantation House with its much more healthyclimate to reside at, is a phenomenon which few people who have madethemselves conversant with all the facts and circumstances will beable to understand. But the policy of this Government, of whom theScottish bard sings so rapturously, is a problem that can never besolved. 

To a wise body of men, and in view of the fact that the eyes of theworld were fixed upon them and on the vanquished man, their prisoner, the primary thought would have been compassion, even to indulgence;instead of which they and their agents behaved as though they weredevoid of humane feelings. 

Lowe's ambition seems to have been to ignore propriety, and to forcehis way to the Emperor's privacy in order that he might assure himselfthat his charge had not escaped, but his ambition and his heroics werecalmly and contemptuously ignored. "Tell my gaoler, " said Napoleon tohis valet Noverras, "that it is in his power to change his keys forthe hatchet of the executioner, and that if he enters, it shall beover a corpse. Give me my pistols, " and it is said by Montholon, towhom the Emperor was dictating at the time of the intrusion, that SirHudson heard this answer and retired confounded. The ultimatum dazedhim, but he was forced to understand that beyond a certain limit, heroics, fooleries, and impertinences would not be tolerated by thisterrible scavenger of European bureaucracy. [5] Lowe, in very truth, discerned the stern reality of the Emperor's piercing words, and hefelt the need of greater caution bearing down on him. He pondered overthese grave developments as he journeyed back to Plantation House, there to concoct and dispatch with all speed a tale that would chillhis confederates at St. Stephen's with horror, and give them a furtheropportunity of showing how wise _they_ were in their plan ofbanishment and rigid precautions, and in their selection of sodistinguished and dauntless a person as Sir Hudson Lowe, on whom theyimplicitly relied to carry out their Christlike benefactions. 

Cartoonists, pamphleteers, Bourbonites, treasonites, meteoric females, all were supplied with the requisite material for declamatory speechesto be hurled at the Emperor in the hope of being reaped to the gloryof God and the British ministry. The story of the attempted invasionof Longwood and its sequel shocks the fine susceptibilities of thesatellites by whom Lowe is surrounded. They bellow out frothy words ofvengeance. Sir Thomas Reade, the noisiest filibuster of them all, indicates his method of settling matters at Longwood. This incidentarose through Napoleon refusing to see Sir Thomas Strange, an IndianJudge. Las Cases had just been forcibly removed. The Emperor wasfeeling the cruelty of this act very keenly, so he sent the followingreply to Lowe's request that he should see Sir Thomas: "Tell theGovernor that those who have gone down to the tomb receive no visits, and take care that the Judge be made acquainted with my answer. " Thiscutting reply caused Sir Hudson to give way to unrestrained anger, andnow Sir Thomas Reade gets his chance of vapouring. Here is his plan:"If I were Governor, I would bring that dog of a Frenchman to hissenses; I would isolate him from all his friends, who are no betterthan himself; then I would deprive him of his books. He is, in fact, nothing but a miserable outlaw, and I would treat him as such. By G--! it would be a great mercy to the King of France to rid him ofsuch a fellow altogether. It was a piece of great cowardice not tohave sent him at once to a court martial instead of sending himhere. "[6]

This ebullition of spasmodic courage entitles theDeputy-Adjutant-General to special mention in the dispatches of hischief. O'Meara relates another of many episodes with which thevaliant Sir Thomas is associated. Further attempts were made toviolate the privacy of the Emperor on the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 16thAugust, 1819, but these were defeated by the fastening of doors. CountMontholon was indisposed, and the Governor, refusing to correspondwith Count Bertrand, insisted upon having communication with theEmperor by letter or by one of his officers twice a day. So theimmortal Sir Thomas Reade and another staff officer were selected toeffect a communication. But "the dog of a Frenchman" that the deputyboasted of "bringing to his senses" refuses admittance, and SirThomas, who has now got his opportunity, evidently has some misgivingsabout the loaded pistols that are kept handy in case of an emergency. The Emperor, in one of his slashing dictated declarations which hithome with every biting sentence, reminds the Governor again what theinevitable result will be should indecorous liberty be taken. SirThomas would be made aware of this danger, so contents himself byknocking at the door and shouting at the top of his voice: "Come out, Napoleon Bonaparte. We want Napoleon Bonaparte. "

This grotesque incident, which is only one of many and worse outragesthat were hatched at Plantation House, reflects a lurid light on thedelirium of antagonism that pervaded the dispositions of some ofEngland's representatives. The hysterical delight of manufacturingannoyances was notorious on the island, and Sir Hudson and hismyrmidons shrieked with resentment when dignified defiance was theonly response. 

Lowe failed to recognise the important ethical fact that a person whoacts a villainous part can never realise his villainy. So obliviouswas he of this fundamental law that he never ceased to assure theexiles that he was not only good, but kind. Here is a note that bearsout this self-consciousness: "General Bonaparte cannot be allowed totraverse the island freely. Had the only question been that of hissafety, a mere commission of the East India Company would have beensufficient to guard him at St. Helena. He may consider himselffortunate that my Government has sent a man so kind as myself to guardhim, otherwise he would be put in chains, to teach him how to conducthimself better. "

To this the Emperor answered: "In this case it is obvious that, if theinstructions given to Sir Hudson Lowe by Lords Bathurst andCastlereagh do not contain an order to kill me, a verbal order musthave been given; for whenever people wish mysteriously to destroy aman, the first thing they do is to cut him off from all communicationwith society, and surround him with the shades of mystery, till, having accustomed the world to hear nothing said of him, and to forgethim, they can easily torture him or make him disappear. "

What a dreadful indictment this is against Bathurst, Castlereagh, andLowe, and how difficult to think of these men at the same time as ofNapoleon, whose name had kept the world in awe! Surely their dwarfednames and those of all the allied traitors and conspirators will passon down the ages subjects for mockery and derision, while his shallstill tower above everything unto all time. His faults will beobscured by the magnificence of his powerful and beneficent reign, andovershadowed by pity for his unspeakable martyrdom. 

But what of the Commissioners representing Russia, Austria, Prussia, and the Most Christian King of France? How shall they fare at thehands of posterity? Their crime will not be that they acquiesced inbeing sent to St. Helena by their respective Governments, but thatthey allowed themselves to be completely cajoled and influenced by thecrafty allurements of Lowe. The representative of Austria is said tohave been a mere cipher in his hands, while the attention of CountBalmin was wholly taken up in making love to Miss Johnson, the eldestdaughter of Lady Lowe by a former marriage. He eventually married herand became one of the family. This young lady's charm of character andgoodness had captured the affections of the Longwood colony, and hertender solicitude for the sorrows of the Emperor caused him to form anattachment for her which was evidenced by his gracious attentionswhenever she came to Longwood. 

The Marquis de Montchenu (who on landing at St. Helena found himselfin the midst of a group of officers attending on Sir Hudson, andcalled out, "For the love of God, tell me if any of you speak French")is not much heard of in his official capacity. Afterwards he appearsto have been enamoured of the Governor's good dinners, but though hewas always hospitable, kind, and glad to see his compatriots at hisbreakfast table, the Emperor never would receive him, though he alwaysshowed appreciation of his promptitude in forwarding to him Frenchpapers or books. The Marquis would naturally find it difficult toassert himself when he heard of the wrongs committed by his host. 

The restrictions imposed on the Emperor were by this time having anominous effect. O'Meara reported that this was so, and theCommissioners, whose instructions from their Governments were merelyformal, thought it their duty to bestir themselves, and requested theGovernor to remove the causes in so far as it was "compatible with thesecurity of his person, " lest the result from want of exercise shouldbe of serious consequences to his health. Sir Hudson was angry at theturn affairs were taking, as the Commissioners had always accommodatedthemselves to his plans. He found, however, that in this instancehumanity had been aroused, and as it would not suit his purpose to runagainst his hitherto complacent friends, he thinks to appease theiranxiety in the following extraordinary manner:--

"I am about to arrange in such a way as to allow him to take horseexercise. I have no wish that he should die of an attack ofapoplexy--that would be very embarrassing both to me and to myGovernment. I would much rather he should die of a tedious diseasewhich our physicians could properly declare to be natural. Apoplexyfurnishes too many grounds for comment. "[7]

This insensate mockery of a man is always asserting himself in somedetestable fashion or other. [8]

At one time his benighted mind would swagger him into droll ideas ofattempting to chastise his Imperial prisoner, at another, hischildish fear of the consequences of his chastisement was pathetic, and when one droll farce after another broke down, he shielded himselfwith manifestations of aggrieved virtue. 

The Emperor received Lord Amherst, who was a man of some humanfeeling, and the noble lord offered to convey to the precious PrinceRegent certain messages. Then Napoleon, aroused by the recollection ofthe perfidy which was causing him such infinite suffering, declaredthat neither his King nor his nation had any right over him. "Yourcountry, " he exclaims, "sets an example of twenty millions of menoppressing one individual. " With prophetic utterance he foreshadows "aterrible war hatched under the ashes of the Empire. " Nations are toavenge the ingratitude of the Kings whom he "crowned and pardoned. "And then, as though his big soul had sickened at the thought of itall, he exclaims, "Inform your Prince Regent that I await as a favourthe axe of the executioner. " Lord Amherst was deeply affected, andpromised to tell of all his sufferings and indignities to the Regent, and also to speak to the saintly Lowe thereon. "Useless, " interjectsthe Emperor; "crime, hatred, is his nature. It is necessary to hisenjoyment to torture me. He is like the tiger, who tears with hisclaws the prey whose agonies he takes pleasure in prolonging. " Theaudience then closes and the sordid tragedy continues. 

The Commissioners are to have bulletins, but no communication with theImperial abode. O'Meara is asked to prepare inspired bulletins, and toreport what he hears and learns from the Emperor, and in a general wayact the spy. He refused, and as Lowe required willing tools, nothonest men, he was ultimately banished from the island. The Emperorembraces him, bestows his benediction, and gives him credentials ofthe highest order, together with messages of affection to members ofhis family and to the accommodating Marie Louise, who is now mistressto the Austrian Count Neipperg. He is charged to convey kindlythoughts of esteem and gratitude to the good Lady Holland for all herkindness to him. The King of Rome is tenderly remembered, and O'Mearais asked to send intelligence as to the manner of his education. Amessage is entrusted to him for Prince Joseph, who is to give toO'Meara the private and confidential letters of the Emperors Alexanderand Francis, the King of Prussia, and the other sovereigns of Europe. He then thanks O'Meara for his care of him and bids him "quit theabode of darkness and crime. "[9]

Before O'Meara left the island, news of the diabolical treatment ofthe Emperor had filtered through to Europe in spite of Lowe'sprecautions. The _Edinburgh Review_ had published several articlesexposing the Governor's conduct, and when these were delivered at St. Helena (addressed to Longwood) a great commotion arose at PlantationHouse. Reade had orders to buy every one of the obnoxiouspublications, but determined men of talent are not easily thwarted intheir object, especially if it is a good one, so the Governor had themortification of seeing himself outwitted. O'Meara was confronted andcharged with securing for Montholon the objectionable _EdinburghReview_. The articles gave the Emperor great pleasure, and when thiswas made known to Lowe it was intolerable to him. O'Meara getsofficial notice to quit on July 25, 1818. 

Napoleon thought it a bold stroke on the part of the British Ministers(whom he regarded, and spoke quite openly of, as assassins) to forcehis physician from him. The doctor took the precaution to reveal theplace of concealment of his journal to Montholon, who found a way ofhaving it sent to him in England. This document was read to theEmperor, who had several errors corrected, which do not appear to havebeen of great importance, except one that had reference to theshooting of the Duc d'Enghien. [10]

On the day following his exit from Longwood O'Meara sent a report onthe exile's illness and his treatment thereof. The report is analarming account of the health of the Emperor, who, notwithstanding, is deprived of medical aid for months. He justly adhered to thedetermination of having none other than his own medical attendant. Lowe sees in this very reasonable request a subtle attempt at planningescape, and will not concede it. An acrimonious correspondence thentakes place. Letters sent to him by Montholon or Bertrand are returnedbecause Napoleon is styled Emperor. Montholon in turn imitates Lowe, and returns his on the ground of incivility, and it must be admittedthe French score off him each time. 

Lowe whines to Montholon that Bertrand calls him a fool to theCommissioners, and accuses him of collecting all the complaints he cangather together, so that he may have them published. The newspapers, particularly the _Edinburgh Review_, have slashing articles holdinghim up to ridicule and denouncing him as an "assassin. " He whimpersthat it is very hard that he, who pays every attention and regard forthe Emperor's feelings, should be pursued and made the victim ofcalumnies. These expressions of unctuous pharisaism are coldlyreceived by the French, who ask no favours but claim justice. Theirthoughts are full of the wrongs perpetrated on the great man who isthe object of their attachment and pity. They will listen to none ofLowe's canting humbug. They see incontestable evidences of theDestroyer enfolding his arms around the hero who had thrilled thenations of the world with his deeds. Their souls throb with fierceemotion at the agony caused by the venomously malignant tyranny. Themeanest privileges of humanity are denied him, and if they plotted inorder that the world might learn of the hideous oppression, who, witha vestige of holy pity in him, will deny that their motive waslaudable? Let critics say what they will, these devoted followers of afallen and sorely stricken chief are an example of imperishableloyalty. They had their differences, their petty jealousies, and attimes bemoaned their hard fate, and this oft-times caused the Emperorto quickly rebuke them. 

Gourgaud was the Peter of the family, and a great source of trouble. He may justly be accused at times of lapsing into disloyalty. He wasguilty both on the island and after his arrival in England ofcommitting the same fault, but in this latter instance he may have hada purpose, as he was asking favours from men who were bitterly hostileto his benefactor. He knew they would be glad to hear anything from soimportant an authority as would in any degree justify their action. Gourgaud, in fact, was more knave than fool, as his subsequentbeseeching appeals on behalf of Napoleon to Marie Louise and otherpersonages in France very clearly prove. 

But take these men and women as a whole, view the circumstances andconditions of life on this rock of vile memory, inquire as minutely asyou may into their conduct, and you see, towering above all, thattheir supreme interest is centred on him whom they voluntarilyfollowed into exile. He is their ideal of human greatness, theirfriend, and their Emperor. 

They view Sir Hudson Lowe as they would a distracted phenomenon. Theintroduction of new and frivolous vexations is occasionally ignored orlooked upon with despairing amusement. At other times, when theirmaster's rights, dignity, and matchless personality are assailed, theyresent it with fierce impulse, and this gives Lowe furtheropportunities of reminding them of his goodness. But during the long, weary years of incessant provocation, criminal retaliation was neverthought of except on one occasion, when some new arbitrary rules wereput in force. 

Santini, a Corsican, and one of the domestics, brooded over hismaster's wrongs. He was generally of a cheerful temperament, but sincethe new regulations were enforced it had been noticed that his wholedisposition had changed. He became thoughtful and dejected, and oneday made known to Cipriani his deliberate intention to shoot theGovernor the first time he came to Longwood. Cipriani used all hisinfluence to dissuade him from committing so rash an act, and findingthat Santini was immovable, he reported the matter to Napoleon, whohad the devoted keeper of his portfolio brought to him, and commandedhim as his Emperor to cease thinking of injuring Sir Hudson. It tookthe Emperor some time to persuade Santini, and when he did give hispromise it was with marked reluctance. Santini is spoken of as beingas brave as a lion, an expert with the small sword, and a deadly shot. He was subsequently sent off the island, the Emperor granting him apension of £50 per annum. 

Santini was the only one who refused to sign a document put forwardby Lowe in which all the officers and domestics pledged themselves toconform to the new regulations, which were, as usual, senseless andsevere. They insisted on the words "Emperor Napoleon" being inserted, but Lowe, with inherent stupid pleasure, would have none other thanthe words "Napoleon Bonaparte, " and the penalty for refusing to signwas banishment from the island. Sir Hudson got it into his malevolentbrain that he had pinned them at last. He affirmed that their reasonfor not signing what they pretended was their Emperor's and their owndegradation was to give an excuse for being "sent off. " Whereupon, assoon as the Governor's crafty insinuations became known, they allsigned except Santini, who refused to have Napoleon described by anyother term than that of Emperor. 

Santini's loyalty to his illustrious master cost him the anguish ofbeing torn from his service and sent to the Cape of Good Hope in theEnglish frigate _Orontes_. He stayed there a few days, but returnedalmost immediately to St. Helena. He was not, however, allowed toland; and, having spent some days at the anchorage, sailed on February25, 1817, for England. 

These refractory captives of the British authorities seem to havebeen a source of great perplexity to them, to say nothing of the costto the nation caused by the hopeless incapacity displayed in dealingwith them. The business grows so farcical that the English guardiansbecome the laughing-stock of the most menial creatures on the island. 

Immediately on his arrival in London Santini issued a touching appealto the British people, laying naked the St. Helena atrocities, themain facts of which have never been contradicted. Any exaggerationswhich may appear in the pamphlet, coming as they do from a soldierwhose adoration for his Emperor amounted to fanaticism, may beexcused; but, whatever his faults, the ugly facts remain unshaken. 

There is no evidence in all the voluminous publications concerningNapoleon at St. Helena that there would have been a shred of mourningput on by the best men and women of any nationality residing on thisinhospitable rock had Santini or any one else despatched the pettytyrant who was carrying on a nefarious assassination by the consent, if not the instructions, of an equally nefarious Ministry. Perhaps hisImperial victim would have been the only person outside his family andofficial circle who would have deplored the act. It is prettygenerally admitted that Lowe was detested by all classes who knew ofthe villainous methods adopted by him to give pain to Napoleon and toany one who showed the slightest sympathy towards him. 

Letters from and to his wife, "the amiable Austrian Archduchess, " hismother, and other members of his family, were not allowed to passunless scrutinised and commented upon by this insatiable gaoler. Letters written to the Ministry and to well-disposed public menoutside it were not forwarded, on the pretext that the title ofEmperor was used. A marble bust of the Emperor's son was brought toSt. Helena by T. M. Radowich, master gunner aboard the ship _Baring_. It was taken possession of by the authorities, and had been in Lowe'shands for some days when he intimated to Count Bertrand that, thoughit was against the regulations, he would take upon himself to handover some presents sent out by Lady Holland and some left by Mr. Manning. A more embarrassing matter was the handing over of the bust. The mystery and comic absurdity of some Government officials of thattime, or even of this, is amazing. 

Lowe's dull perceptions had been awakened. He realised that he mightbe accused of having committed an exceedingly dirty trick. He thinksit in keeping with the dignity of his high office to become uneasyabout the retention of these articles, especially the statue of theKing of Rome. So with unconscious humour he asks the Count if hethinks Napoleon would really like to have his son's bust. The Countreplies, "You had better send it this very evening, and not detain ituntil to-morrow. " Lowe is aggrieved at the coldness of the reply. Hepresumably expected Bertrand to gush out torrents of gratitude. Butthe French code of real good taste and humane bearing put Sir HudsonLowe beneath their contempt. To them he had become indescribable. 

To all those who had access to Napoleon, the burning love he had forhis son was well known, and in one of those outbursts of passionateanguish he declares to the Countess of Montholon that it was for himalone that he returned from Elba, and if he still formed someexpectations in exile, they were for him also. He declares that he isthe source of his greatest anguish, and that every day he costs himtears of blood. He imagines to himself the most horrid events, whichhe cannot remove from his mind. He sees either the potion or theempoisoned fruit which is about to terminate the days of the younginnocent by the most cruel sufferings, and then, after this pouringout of the innermost soul, he pleads with Madame to compassionate hisweakness, and asks her to console him. 

This learned warrior-statesman was also a poet, and but for thesolitude of exile we should probably never have seen that side of thisversatile nature. The lines which he writes to the portrait of his sonare painfully touching. For some reason they were kept concealed, andfound some time afterwards. Here they are, but the English translationdoes not do them justice:--

 Delightful image of my much-loved boy! Behold his eyes, his looks, his smile! No more, alas! will he enkindle joy, Nor on some kindlier shore my woes beguile. 

 My son! my darling son! wert thou but here, My bosom should receive thy lovely form; Thou'dst soothe my gloomy hours with converse dear, Serenely we'd behold the lowering storm. 

 I'd be the partner of thine infant cares, And pour instruction o'er thy expanding mind, Whilst in thy heart, in my declining years, My wearied soul should an asylum find. 

 My wrongs, my cares, should be forgot with thee, My power Imperial, dignities, renown-- This rock itself would be a heaven to me, Thine arms more cherished than the victor's crown. 

 O! in thine arms, my son! I could forget that fame Shall give me, through all time, a never-dying name. 

Here is another version of the same thoughts:--

 TO THE PORTRAIT OF MY SON. 

 O! cherished image of my infant heir! Thy surface does his lineaments impart: But ah! thou liv'st not--on this rock so bare His living form shall never glad my heart. 

 My second self! how would thy presence cheer The settled sadness of thy hapless sire! Thine infancy with tenderness I'd rear, And thou shouldst warm my age with youthful fire. 

 In thee a truly glorious crown I'd find, With thee, upon this rock, a heaven should own, Thy kiss would chase past conquests from my mind Which raised me, demi-god, on Gallia's throne. 

Perhaps the Emperor did not wish to show all the anguish by which hewas being hourly devoured, but who can read these lines now without apang of emotion? The overpowering conviction that his much-loved boywould be destroyed haunted him. Many people to this day believe thathe was right, and that his son's health was sedulously undermined. Butif that be so, the Imperial House of Austria will have to answer forit through all eternity. Napoleon knew that this much-treasured bustwas at Plantation House, and said to O'Meara, if it had not been givenup he would have told a tale which would have made the mothers ofEngland execrate Lowe as a monster in human shape. 

But the Governments of Europe, as well as individuals, were spendingvast sums of money on pamphleteering, and probably those who wrote theworst libels were the most highly paid. Therefore the women of Englandand of other countries were continuously having their minds saturatedwith poisonous statements. Many of them firmly believed Napoleon to bethe anti-Christ, and it is only now that the world is beginning to seethrough the gigantic plot. 

It was stated that the bust had been executed at Leghorn by order ofthe faithless Marie Louise. In Hooper's "Life of Wellington, " thestatement that "she was grateful to the Duke for winning Waterloo, because in 1815 she had a lover who afterwards became her husband, andshe was not in a condition to return with safety to her Imperialspouse, " is hard to believe. This mother of the son the poet-Emperorsings about was deriving pleasure in playing cards for napoleons withthe Duke who was regarded by her husband as one of his most determinedexecutioners. Her supposed connection with the statue naturally gaveit a larger interest, so the Emperor expressed a desire to see thegunner, and ordered Bertrand to get permission for him to visitLongwood. 

The Governor, after examining the gunner on oath, and having had himcarefully searched, gave him leave to see Napoleon, but CaptainPoppleton was ordered not to allow him to speak to the French unlessin his presence. This arbitrary condition was resented with quiet, scornful dignity, and the gunner was asked to withdraw. It is hard tobelieve that a man could be so perversely crooked as Sir Hudson Lowe. How human it was for the exile to long to hear a message from the lipsof one who was credited with having seen and spoken to the mother ofhis son, and how inhuman of Lowe to put any obstacles in the way ofhis desire being gratified!

The incident became common talk, and in proportion to its circulation, so did Lowe's reputation suffer. It is questionable whether he couldhave found any one unfeeling enough on the island to justify sodespicable an act, except perhaps Sir Thomas Reade, whose baseness inthis and other transactions cannot be adequately described, and whosenature seems to have been ingrained with the daily thought ofachieving distinction by excelling his master in some form of cruelty. 

It is a piteous reflection to think of these two plants of grace, theone at all times imbued with the idea of some sanguinary plan ofpunishment, while the other varied the plan of his doubtfultransactions, at the same time telling the exiles that he was actuatedby the sweetest and purest of motives. 

In contrast to Lowe and Reade, the chroniclers speak in the highestpraise of Major Gorriquer. The officers and soldiers of the garrison, as well as the men of the navy, extended their touching sympathy tothe hero who described his imprisonment as being worse than"Tamerlane's iron cage. " Captain Maitland, in his narrative, relates astory which indicates the magnetic power of this great soldier. Maitland was anxious to know what his men thought of Napoleon, so heasked his servant, who told him that he had heard several of themtalking about him, and one of them had observed, "Well, they may abusethat man as much as they please; but if the people of England knew himas well as we do, they would not hurt a hair of his head. " To whichthe others agreed. 

There are many instances recorded where sailors ran the risk of beingshot in order that they might get a glimpse of him, and there islittle doubt the poor gunner-messenger was subjected to inimitablemoral lectures on the sin and pains and penalties of having anycommunication whatsoever with the ungentle inhabitants of Longwood. This good-hearted fellow was as carefully shadowed as though he hadbeen commissioned to carry the Emperor off. Lowe was infected with thebelief that he had some secret designs, and if he were not kept underclose supervision he might take to sauntering on his own account andreally have some talk with the French, and then what might happen?This episode was brought to a close by the Emperor directing that akind letter should be written to the enterprising sailor, and that adraft for _£_300 should be enclosed. O'Meara says, "By means of someunworthy trick he did not receive it for nearly two years. "

The reason so much is made of the bust affair is accounted for asfollows:--

Lowe, on first hearing of it being landed, intended to have it seizedand thrown into the sea. He afterwards took possession of the article, with the idea of making Napoleon a present of it himself. This ideadid not pan out as he expected, and in consequence of publicindignation running so high, he had the bust sent to Longwoodimmediately after his conversation with Bertrand. While Las Cases waswaiting at Mannheim in the hope that the pathetic appeals he had madeto the sovereigns on behalf of Napoleon would bring to him afavourable decision, the Dalmatian gunner heard of him. He was passingthrough Germany to his home after a fruitless attempt in London to getthe money Napoleon had enclosed in his letter. The reason given wasthat the persons on whom it was drawn were not then in possession ofthe necessary funds. Las Cases paid him, and received his appropriateblessings for his goodness. Imprecations against Lowe were lavishlybestowed by the gunner. He had been prevented from landing at St. Helena on his way back from India, and but for this spiteful act ofLowe's the money would have been paid at once. 

Meanwhile the touching appeals of Las Cases to the sovereigns wereunheeded. Even Napoleon's father-in-law, the Emperor of Austria, whohad given his daughter in marriage to the arbiter of Europe, did notdeign to reply, though only a brief time before he had received manytokens of magnanimity from the French Emperor. So, indeed, had otherkings and queens of that time, not excluding Alexander of Russia; butmore hereafter about these monarchs who had once clamoured for thehonour of alliances with Napoleon and with his family, but who nowwere conspirators in the act of a great assassination. 

Some three years before, Lord Keith was horrified when CaptainMaitland informed him on board the _Bellerophon_, in Torbay, that theDuke of Rovigo, Lallemand, Montholon, and Gourgaud had said that theirEmperor would not go to St. Helena, and if he were to consent, theywould prevent it, meaning that they would end his existence ratherthan witness any further degradation of him. Lord Keith is indignant, and replies to Sir Frederick Maitland, "You may tell those gentlemenwho have threatened to be Bonaparte's executioners that the law ofEngland awards death to murderers, and that the certain consequence ofsuch an act will be finishing their career on a gallows. " Precisely!

The noble lord's fascinating little speech is quite in accord withjustice, but did _he_ ever raise a finger to prevent his colleaguesand their renowned deputy from committing the same crime at St. Helena, and after this same Bonaparte's demise, were any steps takento call to account those whom the great soldier had consistentlydeclared were causing his premature death? Lord Keith, with his eyesuplifted to heaven, had said, "England awards death to murderers, " andin this we are agreed, but there must be no fine distinction drawn asto who the perpetrators are or their reason for doing it. Whether aperson for humanity's sake is despatched by a friendly pistol-shot orthe process of six years of refined cruelty, the crime is the same, the only difference being (if life has to be taken) that it is moremerciful it should be done expeditiously. 

The French revered their Emperor, and could not bear to witness hisdire humiliation at the hands of men so infinitely his inferiors, hence the thought of unlawfully ending his existence. On the otherhand, members of the British Government were swollen out with haughtyrighteousness; they regarded themselves as deputies of the Omnipotent. They determined in solemn conclave that the man against whom they hadwaged war for twenty years, and who was only now beaten by acombination of circumstances, should be put through the ordeal of aninquisition. If he held out long, well and good, but should he succumbto their benign treatment, their faith would be steadfast in their ownblamelessness. They were quite unconscious of being an unspeakablebrood of hollow, heartless mediocrities. Why did Lord Keith not give_them_, as he did the devoted Frenchmen, a little sermon on theorthodoxy of the gallows? They were far more in need of his guidinginfluence. 

The British public were deceived by the most malevolent publications. The great captive was made to appear so dangerous an animal thatneither soldiers nor sailors could keep him in subjection, and thestories of his misdeeds when at the height of his ravishing glory werespread broadcast everywhere. Nothing, indeed, was base enough for theoligarchy of England and the French Royalists to stoop to. 

For a time the flow of wickedness went on unchecked. At last a fewgood men and women began to speak out the truth, and as though Naturerevolted against the scoundrelism that had been and was now beingperpetrated, a sharp and swelling reaction came over the public. Menand women began to express the same views as Captain Maitland'ssailors had expressed, viz. : "This man cannot be so bad as they makehim out to be. "

Las Cases had been sent to the Cape, but his journal, containingconversations, dictations, and the general daily life of the exilessince they embarked aboard the _Bellerophon_, was seized by Lowe, sothat he might pry into it with the hope of finding seditious entries. (It may be taken for granted that no eulogy of himself appearedtherein. ) The poor Count and his son on arrival at the Cape wereconfined in an unhealthy hovel, and treated more like galley-slavesthan human beings. After some weeks of this truly British hospitalityunder the Liverpool-Bathurst regime he determines to make a lastappeal to Lord Charles Somerset, then Governor at the Cape, to be morecompassionate. He had been told that nothing but a dog or a horseattracted either his sympathy or his attention, and frankly admitsthat he found himself in error in thinking so harshly of hislordship, as his appeal met with a prompt and generous response. 

The Governor, in fact, expressed his sorrow on learning for the firsttime of the Count's illness and the conditions under which he wasliving. He immediately put at his disposal his country residence, servants, and all else that would add to his comfort, and thus earnedthe eternal gratitude of a much persecuted father and son. LordCharles Somerset, for this gracious act alone, will rank amongst thegood-hearted Englishmen of that troublesome time. It would appear thatthe Cape Governor's subordinates were entirely responsible for theill-treatment complained of. 

It is a puzzle to know for what purpose this gentleman and his sonwere detained at the Cape. The Count had frequently pointed out thefolly of his detention, and begged Lord Charles to allow them to taketheir passage in a small brig of 200 tons that was bound to Europe. This request was agreed to, a passport granted, and the captain of thecraft that was to be carried "in the sailors' arms" three thousandleagues was given stern instructions that should he touch anywhere, his passengers were to have no communication with the shore, and onreaching England they were not to be allowed to land without receivingorders from the Government. 

Whatever other charge may be brought against Las Cases, the lack ofcourage can never be cited. The act of taking so long a passage inthis cockleshell of a vessel is a sure testimony of his devotion andbravery. The food and the accommodation were of the very worst, andthough the account given of the low thunder of the waves lashing onthe decks is not very sailorly, there can be little doubt that so longa passage could not be made without some startling vicissitudes. 

At length, after nearly one hundred days from the Cape, they aresafely landed at Dover, and make their way to London to apprise theimmortal Bathurst of their arrival and of their desire to see him, sothat he might listen to some observations about St. Helena matters. This man of mighty mystery and dignity does not deign to reply, butsends a Ministerial messenger to inform the Count that it is thePrince Regent's pleasure that he quits Great Britain instantly. LasCases tells the messenger that it is a "very sorry, silly pleasure"for His Royal Highness to have, but he has to quit all the same, asEngland is now governed by "sorry, silly pleasure. " Another batch ofpapers is taken from him, and he is bundled away to Ostend and fromthence to other inhospitable countries, and ultimately lands atFrankfort. 

The Count writes many clever, rather long, but disturbing letters tonoble lords in England, to members of Governments in other countries, and to every crowned head interested in the little community they havein safe and despotic keeping at St. Helena. He sends a petition to theBritish Parliament stating in clear, clinching terms anotherindictment against the British Ministry and their agent. This documentwas sent from the deserts of Tygerberg, but like much more of asimilar kind, not a word was said about it. The author, however, wasnot to be fooled or driven from the path which he conceived to be hisduty to his much wronged Emperor, so the petition was published, andcreated a great sensation. 

This had to be subdued or counteracted, and as the Government wereunaccustomed to manly, straightforward dealing, they fell back ontheir natural method of intrigue and the spreading of reports thatwere likely to encourage and create prejudice against their captive. It was imputed to them that while the Congress was sitting atAix-la-Chapelle they got up a scare of a daring plot of escape. Thiswas done at a time when the monarchs were touched with a kind ofsympathy for the man who had so often spared them, and whom theircruelty was now putting to death. 

No wonder that this Ministry of little men were suspected of tricksdegrading and treacherous. The recitals of their distorted versionsof their woes affected the public imagination like a dreary litany. Vast communities of men were beginning to realise that a tragedy wasbeing engineered in the name of sanctity and humanity. 

Every agency composed of cunning, unscrupulous rascals was enlisted topicture the Emperor as a hideous monster who should not be allowed toenjoy the liberty so charitably given him, and who, if he got hisproper deserts, should be put in chains. He was depicted as having amania for roaming about the island with a gun, shooting wild cats andanything else that came within range. Madame Bertrand's pet kids, abullock, and some goats were reported to have fallen victims to thisvicious maniac. Old Montchenu and Lowe became alarmed lest he shouldkill some human being by mistake; they perplexed their little minds asto the form of indictment should such an event happen. Should it bemanslaughter or murder? This knotty question was submitted withtouching solemnity to the law officers of the Crown for decision, andit may be assumed that even their sense of humour must have beenexcited when they learned of the quandary of the Governor and theFrench Commissioner. The shooting propensity set the ingenious Lowea-thinking, and in order to satisfy it he evolved the idea of havingrabbits let adrift, but, as usual, another of his little comfortingconsiderations is abortive, and the plan has a tragic finish. Shootingis off. The Emperor's hobby has changed to gardening. The rabbitsbecome an easy prey to the swarms of rats that prowl about Longwood, and soon disappear. 

It is quite probable that Napoleon did have a fancy for shooting, butit is well known he was never at any time a sportsman in the sense ofbeing a good shot--indeed, everything points to his having no tastefor what is ordinarily known as sport, and that he ever shot kids, goats, or bullocks is highly improbable. That he occasionally wentshooting and got good sport in killing the rats and other vermin whichmade Longwood an insufferable habitation to live in is quite true. Itis also quite true that Lowe became demented with fear in case theshooting should have sanguinary and far-reaching effects. Hence theforegoing communication to the law officers. 

There is little doubt as to the use that was made of the ludicrousinquiry by Lowe. It must have been handed over to the army ofloathsome libellers--men and women who were willing to do the dirtiestof all work, that of writing and speaking lies (some abominable intheir character) of a defenceless man, in order that theirvindictiveness should be completely satisfied. Vast sums wereannually expended for no other purpose than to put their afflictedprisoner through the torture of a living purgatory. 

Napoleon did not heed their silly stories of shooting exploits, thoughhe knew the underlying purpose of them. It was the darker, sordidwickedness that was daily practised on him that ate like a canker intomind and body until he was a shattered wreck. It was the foultreatment of this great man that caused Dr. Barry O'Meara to revoltand openly proclaim that the captive of St. Helena was being put todeath. As an honourable man he declared he could behold it no longerwithout making a spirited protest. He knew that this meant banishment, ostracism, and persecution by the Government. He foresaw that powerfulagencies would be at work against him, and that no expense would bespared in order that his statements should be refuted, but he hazardedeverything and defied the world. He came through the ordeal, as allimpartial judges will admit, with cleaner hands and a cleaner tonguethan those who challenged his accuracy. 

Make what deductions you may, distort and twist as you like theunimportant trivialities, the main facts related by O'Meara have neverbeen really shaken. What is more, he is backed up by Napoleon himselfin Lowe's personal interviews with him, and more particularly by hisletters to the Governor--to say nothing of the substantial backing hegets from Las Cases, Montholon, Marchand, and Gourgaud--thatshameless, jealous, lachrymose traitor to his great benefactor. 

And then there is Santini, whose wish to kill the Governor was notaltogether without good reason, and who was deported from the islandfor this and other infringements of the regulations. The publicationof his pamphlet, previously mentioned, created a great sensation, andit sold like wildfire. It was said to be fabrications, but it was not_all_ fabrications. Montholon reports that Napoleon criticised thework, and remarked that some one must have assisted him. Well, so itwas. The story was related to Colonel Maceroni, an Italian, bySantini, and put into readable form by him, but this does not detractfrom that which is really true in it, and a good deal of what O'Mearacontends is confirmed therein. 

Then O'Meara's successor, Antommarchi, has even a worse story torelate. These chronicles vary only in phrase and detail, and even inthese there is wonderful similarity. But when we come down to thebedrock foundation of their complaints, _i. E. _, the policy andtreatment by Lowe and his myrmidons, incited by the Home Governmentand their followers, each record bears the stamp of truth--theindictment is the same though it may be related differently. 

Some writers have cast doubt on the authenticity of the St. Helenachroniclers without having a peg to hang their contentions on. Theanswer to all this is, that if never a line had been written by thesemen, the State papers, cunningly devised and crafty though most ofthem are, would have been ample evidence from which to drawunfavourable conclusions. Indeed, without State papers being broughtinto it at all, there is facing you always the glaring fact of adetermined assassination perpetrated in the name of humanity, and if Ifelt any desire to be assured of this, I would take as an authorityWilliam Forsyth's three volumes written in defence of Sir Hudson Lowe. No author has so completely failed to prove his case. Moreover, novalid reason has ever been given, or ever can be, for doubting theveracity of O'Meara and other gentlemen of Napoleon's suite who havewritten their experiences of the St. Helena period. 

In the first place, those sceptical writers who deal with thedifferent books that have been published relative to this part ofNapoleon's history were not only not there to witness all that wenton, but some of them were not born for many years after Napoleon andhis contemporaries had passed on. So that it really narrows itselfdown to this: the knowledge the sceptics have attained is taken fromdocuments or books written for the most part by the very men who theysay are not to be relied on as giving a true version of all that tookplace during their stay at St. Helena. It cannot be disputed thatthese gentlemen were in daily and hourly contact with England'sprisoner, and, as they aver, jotted down everything that passed inconversation or that transpired in other ways between themselves andthe Emperor, or anybody else. 

The history of the St. Helena period, as written by authors who wereon the spot, is, in the present writer's opinion, singularly free fromexaggeration, let alone untruths. Besides, what had any of them togain by sending forth distorted statements and untruthful history? Noone knew better than they that every line they wrote would becontested by those who had relied on the rigid regulations suppressingall communications except those which passed through the hands of SirHudson Lowe. Certainly O'Meara cannot be accused of having ulteriormotives, nor can any of the others--not even Gourgaud, who actedalternately traitor and devoted friend. Gourgaud alone seems to havehad a mania for sinning and repenting, writing down during hischildish fits of temper about his supposed wrongs on his shirtcuffs, and not infrequently his finger-nails, some nasty remark or someslanderous thoughts about the man whose amiable consideration for himwas notorious amongst the circle at Longwood, and even at PlantationHouse. These scribblings were intended for precise entry in his diary, and if the peevish temper lasted until he got at this precious book, down they went in rancorous haste. 

Yet this hot-headed, jealous chronicler, guided by blind passion andnever by reason while these moods were on him, has been held up as anauthority that may be relied upon as to the doings and sayings ofNapoleon and his immediate followers at the "Abode of Darkness. " It isa well-known axiom that persons who speak or write anything whilejealousy or temper holds them in its grip may not be counted asreliable people to follow, and that is exactly what happened inGourgaud's case. He was the Peter of the band of disciples at St. Helena, and it may be considered fairly reasonable to assume thatthose who have written up the General as a sound historian have doneso with a view to backing up prejudices, big or small, against theEmperor. 

But surely they have committed a very grave error in singling out astheir hero of veracity a man who, in his more normal and charitablemoods, pours out praise and pity for his Imperial chief in astonishingprofusion. 

O'Meara's position was very different from any of the other diaristsor writers. He was well aware that if he wrote an honest history itmeant his complete ruin, yet he faced it, and defied the world tocontrovert his statements. "In face of the world, " he says, "Ichallenge investigation, " and "investigation" was made with avengeance worthy of the Inquisition. If a word or a sentence could byany possible means be made to appear faulty, a scream of denunciationwas sent forth from one end of Europe to the other, but the crime hadsunk too deeply into the hearts of an outraged public for theseebullitions to have any real effect. There might be flaws in dictionand even matters of fact, but the sordid reality of the documentaryand verbal story that came to them was never doubted. The big heart ofthe British nation was beginning to be moved in sympathy towards themartyr long before his death, and of course long before O'Meara's bookappeared, though the doctor's advent in Europe was made the occasionof a vigorous exposure of the progress of the great assassination. 

A wave of public opinion was gathering force; the Government, stupidand treacherous as they were, saw it rising, and renewed their sillyefforts to stem it by causing atrocious duplicity to be instituted athome and on the martyr rock. Indeed, nothing was beneath theirdignity so long as they succeeded in deceiving an agitated populaceand accomplishing their own evil ends. 

But notwithstanding the tactics and the deplorable use made of thetraitor Gourgaud, sympathetic feeling increases. Questions arefrequently asked in the House of Commons, to which evasive answers aregiven, but reaction is so obviously gaining ground that LordsLiverpool, Castlereagh, and the immortal Bathurst become perturbed. They saw in the accession to power of Lord Holland's party a completeexposure of their maladministration, and a reversing of their policy(if it be not a libel to distinguish it as a "policy"). They knew, too, that once the public is fairly seized with the idea of a greatwrong being perpetrated, no Government, however strong numerically orin personality, can withstand its opposition. Had the Emperor livedbut a little longer, the vindictive men who tormented him to deathwould have been compelled to give way before not only British, butEuropean, indignation. Public opinion would have enforced theAdministration to deal out better treatment to their captive, havedemanded his removal from the island of sorrow, and probably hisfreedom. The public may be capricious, but once it makes up its mindto do anything no power on earth can stop it, because it has a greaterpower behind it. Luckily, or unluckily, for Bathurst & Co. , thespirit of the great captive had passed beyond the portal beforeserious public action could be taken. 

Three years previous to this the Colonial Secretary in writing to Lowesays:--"We must expect that the removal of Mr. O'Meara will occasion agreat sensation, and an attempt will be made to give a bad impressionon the subject. You had better let the substance of my instructions begenerally known as soon as you have executed it, that it may not berepresented that Mr. O'Meara has been removed in consequence of anyquarrel with you, but in consequence of the information furnished byGeneral Gourgaud in England respecting his conduct. "[11]

In reading through these State letters, one is struck with thediplomatically(?) cunning composition of them. There does not seem tobe a manly phrase from beginning to end. Trickery, suspicion, cruelty, veiled or apparent, and an occasional dash of pious consideration andbombast sums up these perfidious documents. A few extracts will conveyprecisely the character of the men who were carrying on negotiationswhich should have been regarded as essentially delicate. 

In February, 1821, Bathurst writes to Lowe:--

 "Sufficient time will have elapsed since the date of your last communications to enable you to form a more accurate judgment with respect to the extent and reality of General Bonaparte's indisposition. Should your observations convince you that the illness has been _assumed_, you will of course consider yourself at liberty to withhold from him the communication which you are otherwise authorised to make in my despatch No. 21, " &c. 

On April 11, 1821, Lowe writes to Bathurst:--"The enclosed extract ofa letter from Count Montholon may merit, as usual, your lordship'sperusal. " (This, of course, is intended as wit. ) "It may be regardedas a bulletin of General Bonaparte's health, meant for circulation atParis. "

Dr. Antommarchi, in writing to Signor Simeon Colonna on March 17, 1821, after dilating on his master's health, the climate, &c. , burstsout in a paragraph: "Dear friend, the medical art can do nothingagainst the influence of climate, and if the English Government doesnot hasten to remove him from this destructive atmosphere, His Majestysoon, with anguish I say it, will pay the last tribute to the earth";and in a postscript he adds: "I offer the _undoubted facts_ statedabove, in opposition to the gratuitous assertions in the Englishnewspapers relative to the good health which His Majesty is stated toenjoy here. "

On March 17, 1821, Montholon writes to Princess Pauline Borghesi:"The Emperor reckons upon your Highness to make his real situationknown to some English of influence. He dies without succour upon thisfrightful rock; his agonies are frightful. " At the time Napoleon wassuffering thus, letters were published in some of the Ministerialnewspapers purporting to have come from St. Helena and representinghim to be in perfect health. 

On May 6, 1821, Lowe writes to Bathurst announcing the death of theEmperor. It is a long rigmarole not worth quoting, except that hecondescends to allow the body to be interred with the honours due to ageneral officer of the highest rank. Then follows the majestic replyof Bathurst. He says, "I am happy to assure you that your conduct, asdetailed in those despatches, has received His Majesty's approbation";which indicates that Lowe did not feel quite happy himself as to howthe effusions would be regarded by his employers, now that the Emperorhad succumbed to their and his own wicked treatment. In his despatchesof February and April, 1821, he had mockingly referred to Napoleon'sindisposition as being faked, and in May he is obliged to writehimself as an unscrupulous liar, but notwithstanding this, his actionmeets with the approval of the chief of the executioners, which isvery natural, seeing that this person was regarded as one of the mostprominent scoundrels in Europe. But Sir Hudson Lowe craved forapprobation, and was so mentally constituted that he believed hedeserved it by committing offences against God and man. 

"Every good servant does not all commands, no bond but to do justones, " but Lowe, in his anxiety to please his employers, went to thefurthest limits of injustice. How void of human understanding and whatMrs. Carlyle called "that damned thing, human kindness" this wretchedman was!

As will be hereafter shown, he had not long to wait after Napoleon'sdeath and the receipt of tokens of friendliness that had been sent tohim through the Colonial Secretary, before he was made to feel thatthe Government was not disposed to carry any part of his publicunpopularity on its shoulders. He had done his best or worst to makethat portion of the earth on which he lived miserable to those hemight have made tolerably happy, without infringing the loutishinstructions of a notoriously stupid Government. Instead of this hemade himself so despised that the Emperor, almost with his lastbreath, called all good spirits to bear witness against him and hismurderous confederates. 

The great soldier had slipped his moorings on May 6, 1821, and on the7th or 8th, after much ado with the Governor, a post-mortemexamination was held by Dr. François Antommarchi in the presence ofDrs. Short, Arnott, Burton, and Livingstone. Lowe was represented bythe Chief of Staff. The examination disclosed an ulcerous growth andan unnaturally enlarged liver, which may be assumed as the ultimatecause of death, though Antommarchi's report assuredly points to thefatal nature of the climatic conditions. 

The French were anxious to have the body of their Emperor embalmed, but Hudson Lowe insisted that his instructions forbade this. Napoleonhad commanded that his heart should be put in a silver vase filledwith spirits of wine and sent to Marie Louise. When Sir Hudson Loweheard that this was being done, he sent a peremptory order forbiddingit, stating that no part should be preserved but the stomach, whichwould be sent to England. Naturally such wanton disregard of theEmperor's wish was violently resented by the French, and by the bestof the English who were there. A long and heated discussion seems tohave ensued on this question, which ended in the Governor having togive way--not altogether--but he was compelled to a compromise, viz. , that the heart and stomach should be preserved and put into thecoffin. 

The Governor was then confronted with what to him was another knottypoint. The Emperor had desired that a few gold coins struck during hisreign should be buried with him. After serious consideration this wasgraciously allowed, but not without forebodings of trouble arisingtherefrom! What the British Government or their idiotic Governorwanted with Napoleon's stomach, or why they refused to allow his bodyto be embalmed, or his heart preserved and sent to his wife, Heavenonly knows. They had monstrously violated all human feeling byignoring appeals made to them from all parts of the world to bemerciful to a much afflicted man. They were well informed by the bestmedical authorities on the island that the climate was deadly to aconstitution such as his. They ignored reports of his declining healtheven up to a few weeks of his death, and then when the Arch-enemyclaimed him, they flooded Europe with the intelligence that he hadsuccumbed to the malady from which his father died, and that theirtender and benevolent care for him was unavailing. The progress of hisinherited disease could not be checked. 

The world is fast beginning to realise the infamy of it all. Not athought ever entered their heads but that of torture, veiled or open, and the appalling clumsiness of their endeavours to conceal theirSatanic designs, so that they might appear in the light of beneficenthosts, shows that they cowered at the possibility of public vengeance. Happily for them, Napoleon's death came too near to the terrificcommotion caused by the French Revolution. 

Tumult raged round the Emperor during the whole of his public career, and powerful agencies were constantly proclaiming against him and hismethods. His advent had brought with it a new form of democracy, whichcast down oligarchies and despotisms everywhere. His system destroyedand affected too many interests not to leave behind it feelings ofrevenge, but this revenge did not exist among the common people. Thosewho persecuted the common people felt his heavy hand upon them. Thepopulace entered into his service in shoals, only to betray him whenthe time of trial came. He knew the risk he ran, but did not shrinkfrom it. He hoped that he might bring them to adopt the greatprinciples he held and the plan he had in view. 

His ambition was to seek out all those who had talent and characterand give them the opportunity of developing their gifts for thebenefit of the race. Humble origin had no deterrent effect on him. Hismost brilliant officers and men of position sprang from the middle andlower middle class, and taking them as a whole, their devotion nevergave way, even during the most terrible adversity that ever befellmortal man. One small instance of admiration and sympathy is evidencedby the beautiful reverence shown by the officers and men of theEnglish army and navy, who defiled before the dead hero's remains andbent their knees to the ground. 

Montholon says that "some of the officers entreated to be allowed thehonour of pressing to their lips the cloak of Marengo which coveredthe Emperor's feet. " Lowe must have felt a pang of remorse when he sawthese simple men pouring out in their sailorly and soldierly waytokens of profound sorrow. Everything that could had been done tocause their captive to be regarded as a menace to human safety, and tobe forgotten altogether; but how futile to attempt such a task whilethe world of civilisation is swayed by human instinct and not bybarbarity!

The report of Napoleon's death did not relieve the anxieties of theEuropean Cabinets. They knew the danger of being overwhelmed by arevulsion of feeling, and the difficulty of stopping the masses oncethey are set in motion, and there were strong manifestations of thepopular indignation breaking loose, with all the terrible consequencesof a reign of terror. The feeling of grief was universal and intense. A spark might have caused a great conflagration. Lord Holland declaredin Parliament that the very persons who detested this great man hadacknowledged that for ten centuries there had not appeared upon eartha more extraordinary character.... "All Europe, " he added, "has wornmourning for the hero"; and those who contributed to that greatsacrifice are destined to be the objects of the execrations of thepresent generation as well as to those of posterity. 

Just at the time the great spirit of the hero was passing on to theElysian Fields, there, as he used to fancifully foreshadow, to meethis brave comrades in arms who had preceded him, a tempest of unusualseverity broke over "the abode of darkness and of crimes. " Houses wereshaken to their foundation; the favourite willow-tree, where he hadoften sat and enjoyed the fresh breezes, was torn up by the hurricane, as indeed were the other trees round about Longwood. This terribledisturbance of the elements was characteristically interpreted asbeing the voice of the living God proclaiming to the world that theEmperor was being thundered into eternity to meet his Creator, and tobe judged by Him for the wrongs his political and other opponents saidhe was guilty of towards themselves and the human race generally. Intrue British orthodoxy, the Great Judge is always claimed as afellow-countryman, and Sir Walter Scott is not singular in attributingthis phenomenal disturbance as an indication of coming vengeanceagainst England's prisoner. The Scottish bard is not altogetherimpartial in the send-off of the exile. He associates another colossalpersonage with the great Corsican. The Lord Protector, we arereminded, was similarly borne from time into eternity on the wings ofa devasting tornado. Poor Oliver! whose war-cry was "The Lord ofHosts, " and who never doubted that he was the high commissioner sentby the Almighty to clean the earth of mischievous Royalists, traitors, Papists, and other ungovernable creatures in Ireland and elsewhere. 

It does not appear to have struck these gentlemen, with their thoughtscentred on Holy Writ and finding comfort in the support it gave totheir contention, that the Great God, instead of making nature breakout with such terrible violence to indicate His displeasure againstthis wonderful man, made in His own image and sent by Him to serveboth a divine and a human purpose, was using accumulated naturalforces to show His wrath at the culmination of the most atrocioustragedy that had ever been perpetrated. 

The good Sir Walter and the unctuously pious biographer of Sir Hudsonare obviously overcome by the coincidence of the storm and Napoleon'sdeath coming simultaneously. To them it is the voice of God shoutingforth gladness that the enemy of the British race is being made to paythe penalty of all the evil he has wrought. This is a very comfortingconclusion to arrive at after having kept your victim on the rack forsix years and made war on him for twenty, but did it never occur tothem that the greatest sacrifice ever offered culminated in just suchnatural disturbances and that at the same time "the veil of the templewas rent in twain"?

Happily for the fair fame of human rights, many writers of Napoleonichistory have got over national prejudices and timidity, and arechronicling very different views from those of Sir Walter and theuninteresting defender of Lowe; and the more impartial the minds whoinquire into the first as well as the last phase of this extraordinarycareer, the more will it appear that he was not an enemy, but apowerful reforming agency of mankind. He vowed over and over againthat he "never conquered unless in his own defence, and that Europenever ceased to make war upon France and her principles. " And again heasserted: "One of my grand objects was to render education accessibleto everybody. I caused every institution to be formed upon a planwhich offered instruction to the public, either gratis or at a rate somoderate, as not to be beyond the means of the peasant. The museumswere thrown open to the _canaille_. My _canaille_ would have becomethe best educated in the world. All my exertions were directed toilluminate the mass of the nation instead of brutifying them byignorance and superstition. " These ideals are in striking contrast tothe policy of the oligarchy of Europe, who were fighting to suppressknowledge and to re-establish the worst form of superstition anddespotism. 

It is a deplorable thought that the nations (and especially GreatBritain) who allied themselves against this man of the people and senthim to an inhuman death might have saved themselves the eternalcondemnation of future ages had they made their peace with him, as thesagacious Charles James Fox would have done had he lived. Had theybeen wise, they would have made use of his matchless gifts andwell-balanced mind to help forward the regeneration of the human chaoswhich was both the cause and the result of the Revolution. Above all, had the "Liberty loving" British nation been true to her declaredprinciples, she would either have kept aloof from the conflict thatwas raging or found some honourable means of co-operating with him, and thereby earned a share of the glory that will be eternallyattached to his name in the great effort of extinguishing thraldom andameliorating the condition of the masses. 

Instead of this, she basely linked her destiny with the traitors ofFrance and the allies of Europe to dethrone the monarch elected by theFrench people, and to place in his stead a king who was forced uponthem by the Allies, and not the people of France. This is a strangetravesty of "Liberty loving" government. Had the great Quaker beenkept in power, instead of Pitt, who was always in a chronic state ofscare and whining that he could never survive the downfall of hiscountry, the rivers of British blood that were shed and the eighthundred million pounds sterling of debt need not have been squandered. All this was done at the bidding of a few men who were entrusted withthe government of a great nation, and either by odious deception, orsheer incapacity to judge of the fitness of things, caused it to bebelieved that they were bound to maintain the balance of power or_status quo_ which was endangered, and that the one man who had upsettheir nerves and incurred their hatred should be removed at all costs. 

It is pretty certain that England could easily have kept out of thecontinental embroil had the Government been composed of men of talentand free from oligarchal prejudices, whereas all we got out of it, plus the loss of life and treasure, was a share in the questionableglory of Waterloo, the custody of the great figure who was betrayed bysome of his own subjects, "the odium of having his death bequeathed tothe reigning family of England, " and the fact that Louis XVIII. , byhis own admission to the French nation, was put on the throne by ourown precious Prince Regent. 

These are only a few of the results that should not make us proud ofthat part of our history. But we have travelled far since those daysof vicious actions. Nothing approaching the perfidy of it could happenin the present age. It is unthinkable that either the sagacious, peaceloving, peacemaking monarch on the throne or his Ministers andpeople would lend themselves to committing the senseless blunders thatdisgraced our name at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Evenallowing that it was inevitable we should wage war against the head ofthe French nation, nothing can ever blot out the stain of havingrefused him the asylum he asked for, after we had taken so large ashare in bringing about his downfall. He asked in the following letterto the Prince Regent to be the guest of England, and England made himits prisoner. Here is the document:--

"The sport of those factions which divide my country and an object ofhostility to the greatest Powers of Europe, I have finished mypolitical career, and come, like Themistocles, to sit down by thehearth of the English people. I place myself under the protection oftheir laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness as the mostpowerful, the most constant, and most generous of my enemies. " Had itbeen left to the English people instead of to the Government and HisRoyal Highness, I do not think this dignified appeal would have beenaltogether ignored, as Napoleon's quarrel was not with the people. 

They knew that it was the oligarchy that feared and detested him. Ithas been said that even His Royal Highness would have grantedhospitality, and it would have saved the nation over which he ruledthe blight of eternal execrations had he been strong enough to standagainst the blundering decision of a revengeful Ministry. 

No impartial student of the part played by Napoleon during twentyyears of warfare will deny that the institutions he founded, the lawsthat he made, and his mode of government wherever established, werebeneficent, and entirely aimed at the adjustment of inequalities thathad culminated in a great national uprising. His dictatorship waswielded with a wholesome discipline without unnecessarily using thelash. He had no cut-and-dried maxim of dealing with unruly people, buthis awful power made them feel that he distinguished between eternaljustice and tyranny. He knew, and he made everybody else know, thatunder the circumstances too much liberty would be like poison to somepeople. When he said, "No more of this, " the aggressors realised thatthe doctrine of fraternity as they understood it must not be stretchedfurther. 

Notwithstanding his methods of reproof and restraint, he was idolisedby the masses, even by those he led his armies against and so oftenconquered. Even in our own country, where enmity against him wasassiduously nursed by the press and other agencies, there was animportant section who believed we were putting our money on the wronghorse. This idea was not confined to the poorer classes. Many of ourbest and wisest statesmen were strongly opposed to this policy ofhostility against him. 

He had starved in the streets of Paris, sold his precious books andother belongings to provide the means of buying bread to sustainhimself and his much beloved brother Louis, who in after years behavedto him with base ingratitude. He suffered dreadful privations duringthe keen frosty nights, owing to the want of fire, light, andsometimes sufficient clothing. No wonder that he thought of endinghis woes by plunging into the Seine. 

But a glimmering of light came and lifted him out of a numbingdespair. He was made to see in his hour of trial that lassitude mustcease, and that he was meant for other things, and in order toaccomplish them he must be strong and audacious. Fate, fortune, and amysterious Providence found in him an indomitable chief whose geniuswas intended to change the face of Europe. Like all big men who springfrom obscurity and the deadliness of poverty, and are launched on thescene to create order out of tumult and chaos, his enemies, in thenature of things, were both numerous and prolific. At the outset headopted the method he so often thundered into his soldiers when on theeve of battle, viz. : "You must not fear Death, my lads. Defy him, andyou drive him into the enemy's ranks. "

One of the charges made against him by serene critics who have beendesirous of showing his weak points is that he was too careless andforgiving towards the squabbling nest of paid and unpaid murderers whoprowled about in disguise, thirsting after his blood. It is certainthat he carried clemency to a fault in many instances, and this nodoubt contributed to his undoing; but at the same time there is ampleproof that he knew well enough where his foes were to be found, andwhenever the dignity and safety of the State were imperilled, he wasnot slow to punish. His habit was not weakness, but only a toocareless regard for his own personal safety. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Montholon, "History of the Captivity of Napoleon, " p. 326. Theeditor says he is indebted for these details to the official accountspublished at the time by the French Government. 

[2] This was the name given to Napoleon by the Arabs. "Kebir" means"great" (Montholon, vol. Iv. P. 245). 

[3] These words were dictated to Las Cases by Napoleon at St. Helenain 1819 (p. 315, vol. Iv. , of his Journal). 

[4] See p. 183, vol. I. , "Captivity of Napoleon. "

[5] O'Meara, in his second volume, p. 134, states: "The Emperor was sofirmly impressed with the idea that an attempt would be made toforcibly intrude upon his privacy, that, from a short time after thedeparture of Sir George Cockburn, he always kept four or five loadedpistols and some swords in his apartments, with which he wasdetermined to despatch the first who entered against his will. "

[6] See p. 299, Montholon's "Captivity of Napoleon, " vol. I. 

[7] See p. 301, vol. I. , "Captivity of Napoleon. "

[8] See pp. 57-62, bust incident. 

[9] The easygoing Joseph had been careless of the letters, which wouldhave further proved the infamy of the oligarchy. These letters were inmany cases applications for territory. He had intrusted them to a basefriend, by whom they were offered to the various Governments for£30, 000. The Russian Ambassador is reported to have paid £10, 000 toget hold of those concerning his master. His Majesty of Prussiaappears to have had a covetous eye on Hanover. He always entertained apaternal regard for that country. The sovereigns in general seem tohave compromised themselves deeply in their efforts to secureterritory. 

[10] See "Montholon, " vol. Iii p. 37. 

[11] This is an impudent lie. The quarrel was with Lowe because thedoctor refused to be his accomplice. 

CHAPTER II

THE MAN OF THE REVOLUTION--CRITICISM, CONTEMPORARY AND OTHERWISE

On May 9, 1821, the mortal remains of the Exile were interred at aspot called the Valley of Napoleon. He had selected this spot in theevent of the Powers not allowing his remains to be transferred toFrance or Ajaccio. Lowe desired to put on the lid of the coffin"Napoleon Bonaparte, " but his followers very properly disdainedcommitting a breach of faith on the dead Emperor, and insisted onhaving "Napoleon" and nothing else. The Governor was stubbornlyopposed to it, so he was buried without any name being put on thecoffin. [12]

Perhaps one of the most terrific passages of unconscious humour isrelated by Forsyth (vol. Iii. P. 288), where Lowe is made to say toMajor Gorrequer and Mr. Henry, as they walked together before thedoor of Plantation House discussing the character of Napoleon, "Well, gentlemen, he was England's greatest enemy and mine too; but _I_forgive him everything. On the death of a man like him we should onlyfeel deep concern and regret. " Forsyth thinks this splendidmagnanimity on the part of his hero. 

It is not recorded what the gallant Major thought of it, but it may betaken for granted that if Mr. Henry and Gorrequer had any sense ofhumour at all, Lowe's comment must have sounded very comical, knowingwhat they did of the relations between the dead monarch and hiscustodian, though it must be said that Henry seems to have been theonly person who could work up a sympathetic word for Sir Hudson. Forsyth, in vol. Iii. P. 307, says: "No one can study the character ofNapoleon without being struck by one prevailing feature, his intenseselfishness. " This is a remarkable statement for any man who professesto write accurate history to make, and proves conclusively thatForsyth had not "studied" Napoleon's "character, " or he would havefound, not only his closest friends, but some of his bitterest enemiesdoing him the justice of stating the very opposite of what this writersays of him. 

Mr. Henry, who took part in the dissection of the corpse, says thatNapoleon's face had a remarkably placid expression, and indicatedmildness and sweetness of disposition, and those who gazed on thefeatures as they lay in the still repose of death could not helpexclaiming, "How beautiful!" After this very fine description from SirHudson's friend, Forsyth adds a footnote: "It may interestphrenologists to know that the organs of combativeness, causativeness, and philoprogenitiveness were strongly developed in the cranium"! Inorder to prove the charge of selfishness he brings in the old familiarstory of the divorce: "A memorable example of this (_i. E. _, selfishness) occurs in his treatment of the nobleminded Josephine. "

This outburst is obviously intended for effect, but Forsyth does notscore a success in bringing the amiable Empress to his aid; for, whatever virtue she may have possessed, authentic history reveals heras the antithesis of "nobleminded. " Those who knew the lady intimatelyspeak with marked generosity of her graces, but they also record ashameless habit of faithlessness to her husband at a time when he waspouring out volumes of love to her from Italy. And she seems to havelet herself go without restraint during his stay in Egypt. Thewayward, weak Josephine had many lovers, who were not too carefullyselected. 

From the time of her marriage with Napoleon until she heard of himbeing on his way from Egypt to France, her love intrigues were wellknown, and her lovers were certainly not men of high public repute. Inshort, Josephine was anything but "nobleminded. " She was a confirmedand audacious flirt until the stern realities of the dissolution ofher marriage brought her to her senses, and from that time until thegreat political divorce took place, she appears to have kept free fromfurther love entanglements. Napoleon's attachment to her was verygenuine, and remained steadfast up to the time of her death, and evenat St. Helena he always spoke of her with great reverence. Forsythdoes not enhance Lowe's reputation or damage Napoleon's by the popularuse he makes of the annulment of the little Creole lady's marriage, the merits of which may be referred to at greater length hereafter, asit is a subject of itself and this reference to a momentous incidentof her husband's history is only by the way. 

Meanwhile the Emperor's remains, in layers of coffins composed ofwood, tin, and lead, were hermetically sealed, and the tomb, havingbeen securely battened down with cement and slab, was substantiallyrailed in to prevent the intrusion of a sympathetic and curiouspublic. His tomb was left in charge of a British garrison, and theheroes who followed him to his grave, and shared his martyrdom andexile on that fatal rock for six mortal years, were shipped aboard the_Camel_ and conveyed to England, there to be received by a set ofmildew-witted bureaucrats smitten with suspicion that the exiles mayhave brought with them the spirit of their dead master, with theobject of invoking a sanguinary reaction in his favour by disturbingthe peace of Europe--as though Europe had experienced a single day ofreal peace since the downfall of the Empire!

These exemplary men had faced and borne with magnificent fortitudehardships well-nigh beyond human endurance. Their mission was to carryout the dying command of the hero whom they adored, and who hadsuccumbed to the hospitable treatment of Bathurst, Castlereagh, Liverpool, and Wellington, and their accomplices. These guilty men, whose names, strange to say, are as undying as that of their victim, would fain have made it appear that had he not died of cancer of thestomach, it were not possible that he could have died of anything butrobust health, owing to the salubrity of the climate they had selectedand the unequalled care they had taken of his person through theimmortal Lowe. 

It is a remarkable thing that these men had no conception of thegreat being they were practising cruelty upon. It is indeed a strangefreak of nature that makes it possible that the human mind can thinkof Napoleon and these bureaucrats at the same time, but that is partof the mystery that cannot at the present stage be understood. Timemay reveal the phenomenon, and in the years to come the spirits of thejust will call aloud for a real vindication of the character of theman of the French Revolution, and, forsooth, it may be that a terribleretribution is gathering in the distance. Who knows? Waterloo and St. Helena may yet be the nemesis of the enemies of the great Emperor. Obviously, he had visions, as had his compatriot Joan of Arc, whosuffered even a crueller fate than he at the hands of a fewbloodthirsty English noblemen, who disgraced the name of soldier bynot only allowing her to be burnt, but selling her to the parasiticalBishops with that object in view. It is not strange that the Maid ofOrleans, who suffered martyrdom for the supernatural part she took infighting for her King and country, should, on April 18, 1909, become asaint of the Roman Catholic Church throughout the world, nor that thePope should perform the ceremony. The English sold her. Anecclesiastical court, headed by the infamous Bishop of Beauvais, condemned her to be burnt as a witch, and when the flames wereconsuming her a cry of "Jesus" was heard. An English soldier standingby was so overcome by the awful wickedness that was being perpetratedby the Anglo-French ecclesiastical alliance, that he called out, "Weare lost! We have burnt a saint!"

The soldier saw at once that the child of the Domremy labourer was a"saint, " but it has taken five centuries for the Church to which shebelonged, and whose representatives burnt her as a witch, toofficially beatify her. True, this stage has been gradually worked upto by the erection of monuments to her honour and glory. Chinondistinguished itself by this, presumably because it was there thatJoan interviewed the then uncrowned Charles, and startled him intotaking her into his service by the story she told of hearing theheavenly voices at Domremy farm demanding that she should go forth asthe liberator of France. 

The recognition of Napoleon's claim, not to "sanctity, " but as abenefactor of mankind, will also surely come, but in his case thedemand will come from no Church, but with the irresistible voice ofall Humanity. 

Joan's country had been at war for one hundred years. Ravaged byforeign invaders and depopulated by plague, it was foaming with civilstrife and treason to the national cause, many of the most powerfulmen and women, both openly and in secret, taking sides with the enemy. The crisis had reached a point when this modest, uneducated, clear-witted, fearless maiden was launched by her "voices" to thescene of battle, there to inspire hope and enthusiasm in the hearts ofher people. In a few weeks she had established confidence, smashed theinvader, and crowned the unworthy Charles VII. As King. Twenty yearsafter they had burnt her, there was scarcely a foreign foot to befound on French soil. 

There is a further similarity between the peasant girl and Napoleon. _She_ was brought to the aid of her country by the voices of theunseen, and four hundred years after, when her country was again indire trouble, _he_ was found in obscurity and in an almostsupernatural way flashed into prominent activity to save theRevolution. It was the voices of the living, seen and unseen, thatcalled aloud for the little Corporal to lead to battle, conquer, andultimately govern. It was some of the self-same voices that intriguedand then burst forth in declamation and demanded his abdication on theeve of his first reverse. The Church, which owed its rehabilitation tohim after he had implanted a settled government in France, had nosmall share in the conspiracy for his overthrow. He said, "There isbut one means of getting good manners, and that is by establishingreligion. " He believed it, and did it in spite of a storm ofopposition that would have hurled a less resolute man from power, buthe knew full well his strength, and was sure then, as he ever was, ofhis opinions. 

The Church and those of the people who become allied to its materialpolicy are prone to destroy those who have been of service to theircause. There is indeed no society of men and women who are sovindictive, nay, revengeful, once they are seized with the idea thatthey are being neglected, or their interests not receiving all thepatronage they think they deserve, and then, after a few generationsof reflection, they become overwhelmed with unctuous sanctity andremorse, and proceed to make saints of the victims of theirprogenitors in order that the perfidy they are historically linked toshall be whitewashed and atoned for. 

Napoleon believed that "No physical force ever dies; it merely changesits form or direction"--and could we but get a glimpse behind theveil, we might see his imperishable soul fleeting from sphere tosphere, struggling with cruel reactionary spirits who forced him intoeternity before the work he was sent to do was completed. 

Wieland, the German writer, had an interview with him on the field ofJena. He says:--"I was presented by the Duchess of Weimar. He paid mesome compliments in an affable tone, and looked steadfastly at me. Fewmen have appeared to me to possess in the same degree the art ofreading at the first glance the thought of other men. He saw in aninstant that, notwithstanding my celebrity, I was simple in my mannersand void of pretension, and as he seemed desirous of making afavourable impression on me, he assumed the tone most likely to attainhis end. I have never beheld anyone more calm, more simple, more mild, or less ostentatious in appearance; nothing about him indicated thefeeling of power in a great monarch; he spoke to me as an oldacquaintance would speak to an equal, and what was more extraordinaryon his part, he conversed with me exclusively for an hour and a half, to the great surprise of the whole assembly. "

Then Wieland goes on to relate what the conversation was. Napoleon"preferred the Romans to the Greeks. The eternal squabbles of theirpetty republics were not calculated to give birth to anything grand, whereas the Romans were always occupied with great things, and it wasowing to this they raised up the Colossus which bestrode the world.... He was fond only of serious poetry, the pathetic and vigorouswriters, and above all, the tragic poets. "

Wieland had been put so much at his ease (so he says) that he venturedto ask how it was that the public worship Napoleon had restored inFrance was not more philosophical and in harmony with the spirit ofthe times. "My dear Wieland, " was the reply, "religion is not meantfor philosophers! they have no faith either in me or my priests. As tothose who do believe, it would be difficult to give them, or to leavethem, too much of the marvellous. If I had to frame a religion forphilosophers, it would be just the reverse of that of the credulouspart of mankind. "[13]

Müller, the Swiss historian's private interview with him at thisperiod is quite remarkable, and shows what a vast knowledge andconception of things the Emperor had. Nothing shows more clearly hisown plan of regulating and guiding the affairs of the universe for thebenefit of all. He tells Müller that he should complete his history ofSwitzerland, that even the more recent times had their interest. Thenhe switched from the Swiss to the old Greek constitutions and history;to the theory of constitutions; to the complete diversity of those inAsia, and the causes of this diversity in the climate, polygamy, theopposite characters of the Arabian and the Tartar races, the peculiarvalue of European culture, and the progress of Freedom since thesixteenth century; how everything was linked together, and in theinscrutable guidance of an invisible hand; how he himself had becomegreat through his enemies; the great Confederation of Nations, theidea of which Henri IV. Had; the foundation of all religion and itsnecessity; that man could not bear clear truth and required to be keptin order; admitting the possibility, however, of a more happycondition, if the numerous feuds ceased which were occasioned by toocomplicated Constitutions (such as the German) and the intolerableburden suffered by States from excessive armies. 

These opinions clearly mark the guiding motives of Napoleon's attemptsto enforce upon different nations uniformity of the institutions andcustoms. "I opposed him occasionally, " says Müller, "and he enteredinto discussion. Quite impartially and truly, as before God, I mustsay that the variety of his knowledge, the acuteness of hisobservations, the solidity of his understanding (not dazzling wit), his grand and comprehensive views, filled me with astonishment, andhis manner of speaking to me with love for him. By his genius and hisdisinterested goodness, he has also conquered me. "[14] The remarkabletestimony of Wieland and Müller, both men of distinction, is of morethan ordinary value, seeing that they were not his countrymen, but onthe side of those who waged war against him. Müller admits that heconquered him, and the world must admit that he is gradually, butsurely, conquering it in spite of the colossal libels that have beenspoken and written of him for the ostensible purpose of vindicatingthe Puritans and making him appear as the Spoliator and Antichristwhose thirst for blood, so that he might attain glory, was aninexhaustible craze in him. To them he is the Ogre that staggers thepower of belief, and yet he defies the whole world to prove that heever declared war or committed a single crime during the wholecarnival of warfare that drenched Europe in human blood. 

Up to the present, the world has lamentably failed to do anything ofthe sort. His opponents, libellers, and progeny of his meanexecutioners, are all losing ground, and he is gaining everywhere. There is an unseen hand at work revealing the awful truth. Thisdignified, calm, unassuming man, while surrounded by a crowd of Kingsand Princes, who were competing with each other to do him homage andshow their devotion, startles them by telling a story of when he was"a simple Lieutenant in the 2nd Company of Artillery. " Possibly someof his guests were observed to be putting on airs that were alwaysdistasteful to the Emperor, and this was his scornful way of rebukingthem. Or it might be that he wished to take the opportunity ofinforming Europe that he had no desire to conceal his humblebeginning, though at that time he was recognised first man in it. Historians, when he was at the height of his power, ransacked mustyarchives assiduously to find out and prove that he had royal blood inhim. They professed to have discovered that he was connected with theprincely family of Treviso, and the comical way in which hecontemptuously brushed aside this fulsome flattery must have laceratedthe pride of courtiers who sought favours by such methods. 

Bearing on the royal blood idea, Gourgaud in his Journal relates thatthe Emperor told him the following stories:--

"At one time in my reign there was a disposition to make out that Iwas descended from the Man in the Iron Mask. The Governor of Pignerolwas named Bompars. They said he had married his daughter to hismysterious prisoner, the brother of Louis XIV. , and had sent the pairto Corsica under the name of 'Bonaparte, '" and then with fine humourhe adds:--"I had only to say the word and everybody would havebelieved the fable. "

He never forgot that he was Napoleon, hence never said the word. 

His insincere father-in-law has been industriously searching for royalblood too, and this is what his son-in-law says of him:--

"When I was about to marry Marie Louise, her father the Emperor sentme a box of papers intended to prove that I was descended from theDukes of Florence. I burst out laughing, and said to Metternich, 'Doyou suppose I am going to waste my time over such foolishness? Supposeit were true, what good would it do me? The Dukes of Florence wereinferior in rank to the Emperors of Germany. I will not place myselfbeneath my father-in-law. I think that as I am, I am as good as he. Mynobility dates from Monte Notte. Return him these papers. ' Metternichwas very much amused. "

Francis of Austria must have felt confounded at the rebuke of hisunceremonious relative, who was always the man of stern reality--toobig to be dazzled by mouldy records of kingly blood. Neither did pompor ceremony attract him, except in so far as it might serve thepurpose of making an impression on others. Bourrienne, a shamelesspredatory traitor, has said in his memoirs that when the seat ofgovernment was removed from the Luxembourg to the Tuileries, the FirstConsul said to him, "You are very lucky; you are not obliged to make aspectacle of yourself. I have to go about with a cortège; it bores me, but it appeals to the eye of the people. "

Roederer in _his_ memoirs relates pretty much the same thing, onlythat it bears on the question of title, and presumably the researchesfor confirmation of his royal descent. 

Here again, his strong practical view of things, and his utterindifference to grandeur or genealogical distinction, are shown. Hesays: "How can anyone pretend that empty names, titles given for thesake of a political system, can change in the smallest degree one'srelations with one's friends and associates? I am called Sire, orImperial Majesty, without anyone in my household believing or thinkingthat I am a different man in consequence. All those titles form partof a _system_, and therefore they are necessary. " He always ends hisebullitions of convincing wisdom by making it clear precisely where hestands. 

The writer might quote pages of eulogies of him from the most eminentmen of every nationality. There is no trustworthy evidence that heever sought the flattery that was lavished on him; indeed, he seemsto have been alternately in the mood for ignoring or making fun of it. On one occasion he writes to King Joseph, "I have never sought theapplause of Parisians; I am not an operatic monarch. "[15]

Seguier says:--

"Napoleon is above human history. He belongs to heroic periods and isbeyond admiration. "[16]

A notable Englishman, Lord Acton, says (like Müller) that "hisgoodness was the most splendid that has appeared on earth. " And thereare innumerable instances which prove that his sympathies and goodnessto those who were notoriously undeserving was a fatal passion withhim. But there is no opinion, blunt though it be, that so completelytouches one as that of the plain English sailors who said at Elba that"Boney was a d----d good fellow after all. " "They may talk about thisman as they like, " said one of the crew of the _Northumberland_, "butI won't believe the bad they say of him, " and _this_ view seems tohave been generally held by the men who composed the crew of thevessel that took the Emperor to St. Helena. It is noteworthy thatEnglish man-of-war's-men, and also merchant seamen of these stirringtimes, should have formed so favourable an impression of Napoleon, especially as the Press of England teemed with hostility against him. Articles attributing every form of indescribable bestiality, corruption, gross cruelty to his soldiers, subordinate officers, andeven Marshals, appeared with shameful regularity. In these articleswere included the most absurd as well as the most serious charges. 

I include the following story as a specimen, and take it in particularas being quoted quite seriously by certain anti-Napoleonic writers inthe endeavour to bolster up a feeble case. Prejudice and distortedvision prevented them from seeing the absurdity of such attempts toblacken the character of Napoleon. Let the reader judge!

It is related that, at the time of the Concordat, Napoleon remarked toSenator Volney, "France wants a religion. " Volney's courageous (!)reply was, "France wants the Bourbons, " and the Emperor is thereuponsupposed to have been attacked by a fit of ungovernable fury, and tohave kicked the Senator in the stomach!

The more serious charges included incest with his sister Pauline andhis stepdaughter Hortense, and the poisoning of his plague-strickensoldiers at Jaffa. 

His palaces were said to be harems, and his libertinism to putOriental potentates to the blush. So industrious were these foes tohuman fairness that they manufactured a silly story just before therupture of the Treaty of Amiens, to the effect that Napoleon had madea violent attack on Lord Whitworth, the British Ambassador. So violentwas he in his gestures, the Ambassador feared lest the First Consulwould strike him. Even Oscar Browning is obliged to refute thisunworthy fabrication as being absurd on the face of it, but it hastaken ninety years to produce the authentic document from the BritishArchives which disproves the scandal. Napoleon was too much absorbedin things that mattered to take notice of the stupid though virulentstories that were constantly being concocted against him. When he wasappealed to by his friends to have the libels suitably dealt with, hemerely shrugged his shoulders, as was his custom, and said, "All thisrubbish will be answered, if not in my time, by posterity. It pleasesthe chatterers and scandalmongers, and I haven't time to be perturbed, or to meddle with it. "

It ill became the subjects of George IV. To attack Napoleon on theside of morality. It is well enough known that the French Court duringthe Empire was the purest in Europe. In his domestic arrangements, theone thing that Napoleon was jealous of, above all others, was that_his_ Court should have the reputation of being clean. He tookinfinite pains to assure himself of this. His private amorousconnections are fully described by F. Masson, a Frenchman, and astaunch admirer of his. But to accuse him of libertinism is anoutrage. He had mistresses, it is true, and it is said he would neverhave agreed to the divorce of Josephine had it not been that MadameWalewska (a Polish lady) had a son by him. (This son held high officeunder Napoleon III. ) But even in the matter of mistresses he was mostcareful that it should not be known outside a very few personalfriends. As a matter of high policy it was kept from the eye of thegeneral public, and he gives very good reasons for doing so. Notmerely that it would have brought him into serious conflict withJosephine, but he knew that in order to maintain a high standard ofpublic authority food for scandal must be kept well in hand. [17]

His enemies, however, were adepts at invention, and although the moralcode of that period was at its lowest ebb, they pumped up a standardof celibacy for the French Emperor that would have put the obligationunder which any of his priests were bound in the shade. So shockedwere they at the breaches of orthodoxy which were written andcirculated by themselves without any foundation to go upon, that theyadvocated excommunication, assassination, anything to rid the world ofso corrupt a monster. But the moral dodge fell flat. It was notexactly in keeping with the unconventionalities of the times, and, infact, they had carried their other accusations and grievances to somalevolent a pitch, the straightforward and rugged tars aboard the_Bellerophon_ and _Northumberland_ were drawn in touching sympathytowards the man who had thrown himself into their hands in the ferventbelief that he would be received as a guest and not as a prisoner ofwar. 

We know that he had other means of escape had he chosen to availhimself of them. He had resolved after his abdication to live the timethat was left to him in retirement, and believing in the generosity ofthe British nation, he threw himself on their hospitality. He had madehis way through a network of blockade when he returned from Egypt andElba, and looking at the facts as they are now before us, it ispreposterous to adhere to the boastful platitude that he was so hemmedin that he had no option but to ask Captain Maitland to receive him asthe guest of England aboard the _Bellerophon_, and it may be takenfor granted that the resourceful sailors knew that he had manychannels of escape. They knew the _Bellerophon_ was a slow old tub, and that she would be nowhere in a chase. 

Besides, it was not necessary for Napoleon to make Rochefort orRochelle his starting-point. The troops and seamen at these and theneighbouring ports were all devoted to him, and would have riskedeverything to save him from capture. He knew all this, but he waspossessed of an innate belief in the chivalry of the Britishcharacter, and left out of account the class of men that were inpower. He knew them to be his inveterate foes, but was deceived inbelieving they had hearts. Their foremost soldier had taken an activeshare in his defeat, and he acknowledged it by putting himself underthe protection of our laws. The honest English seamen who were hisshipmates on both ships were not long in forming a strong liking tohim, and a dislike to the treatment he was receiving. They felt therewas something wrong, though all they could say about it was that "hewas a d----d good fellow. "

Lord Keith was so afraid of his fascinating personality after hisvisit to the _Bellerophon_ that he said, "D----n the fellow! if hehad obtained an interview with His Royal Highness, in half an hourthey would have been the best friends in England. " In truth, LordKeith lost a fine opportunity of saving British hospitality from theblight of eternal execration by evading the lawyer who came toPlymouth to serve a writ of Habeas Corpus to claim the Emperor'sperson, and the pity is that an honoured name should have beenassociated with a mission so crimeful and an occasion so full ofillimitable consequences to England's boasted generosity. Except thathe too well carried out his imperious instructions, Lord Keith doesnot come well out of the beginning of the great tragedy. The onlypiece of real delicacy shown by Lord Keith to the Emperor was inallowing him to retain his arms, and snubbing a secretary who remindedhim that the instructions were that _all_ should be disarmed. Thiszealous person was told to mind his own business. 

Napoleon asks the Admiral if there is any tribunal to which he canapply to determine the legality of him being sent to St. Helena, as heprotested that he was the guest and not the prisoner of the Britishnation; and Keith, with an air of condescending benevolence, assureshim that he is satisfied there is every disposition on the part of theGovernment to render his situation as comfortable as prudence wouldpermit. No wonder Napoleon's reply was animated, and his soul full ofdignified resentment at the perfidy that was about to be administeredto him under the guise of beneficence. 

Scott describes the interview with Keith as "a remarkable scene. " Hesays: "His (Napoleon's) manner was perfectly calm and collected, hisvoice equal and firm, his tones very pleasing, the action of the headwas dignified, and the countenance remarkably soft and placid, withoutany marks of severity. " That is a good testimony from the author ofthe "Waverley Novels, " who was anything but an impartial biographer. Not even the novelist's most ardent admirers (and the writer is one ofthem) can give him credit for excessive partiality towards the herowho was the first soldier, statesman, and ruler of the age, who notonly knew the art of conquering men as no other (not even Alexander)had ever known it, but had the greater quality of knowing how toconquer and govern himself under conditions that were unexampled inthe history of man. 

I say again, that apart from the violence of the treatment of thePowers towards him (and they all had a shameful share in it), it was afatal blunder to send this great mind to perish on a rock when, byadopting a more humane policy, his incomparable genius might havebeen used to carry out the reforms he had set his mind on after hisreturn from Elba. The tumult which surrounded his career had changed;he saw with a clear vision the dawn of a new era, and at onceproclaimed to Benjamin Constant and to the French nation his greatscheme of renewing the heart of things. He knew it would take time, and he foresaw also that a combination of forces was putting forthsupreme efforts to destroy him. They were out for blood, and _he_ wasin too great a hurry. 

In one of his day-dreams at St. Helena he exclaimed, "Ah! if I couldhave governed France for forty years I would have made her the mostsplendid empire that ever existed!"

His demand on fortune was too great, and notwithstanding the knowledgehe had of human nature, he could not check the torrent of treason thathad been sedulously nursed against him by his enemies until it ignitedthe imagination of those whom he had a right to expect would standloyally by him in an hour of tribulation such as no other man had everexperienced. 

It is true that he made history (brilliant history if you like) inthose latter days, but oh! the anguish and the baseness of it all. 

Cæsar made history too; neither did _this_ ruler succeed altogether. Brutus, his friend, forsook and dispatched him, and possibly that wasthe most enviable finish to a great career. Did Napoleon fare betterthan his prototype, inasmuch as he was not the victim of theassassin's dagger? Intoxicated with the spirit of charity, hisconquerors decreed that he should be deported to a secluded place ofabode on a barren and unhealthy rock, there to be maintained at a costto the nation of £12, 000 a year, and succumb as quickly as possiblelike a good Christian gentleman. 

The presumption of Lord Keith in observing to Napoleon that it waspreferable for him to be sent to St. Helena than to be confined in asmaller space in England or sent to France or Russia, and theEmperor's supposed reply--"Russia! God preserve me from it!"--isalmost unbelievable, and in the light of what he constantly assertedwhile England's captive, this expression may be regarded as afabrication. 

Whether it was an innate belief that Alexander of Russia was hisfriend, or the fact that Francis of Austria was his father-in-law, hecertainly avowed--according to the St. Helena chroniclers--that if hehad surrendered to either of them he would have been treated, not onlywith kindness, but with a proper regard as befitted a monarch who hadgoverned eighty-three millions of people, or more than the half ofEurope. But even if he were merely soliloquising, or wished toconvince himself and those he expressed this opinion to, it is hard tothink that any of the continental Powers would have risked the certainconsequences of having him either shot or ill-treated, and it isextremely doubtful whether even in France there could have been founda soldier that would have obeyed an order to shoot his former Emperor, who had been requisitioned to return from Elba, and who so recently, with only six hundred soldiers, made war against Louis with his twohundred thousand and defeated and dethroned him. 

Nothing so magnificent has ever been known. This great man hadcomplete hold of the imagination and devotion of his common people andsoldiers. Even in the hour of defeat their loyalty was amazing. 

Various instances are given of this deep-rooted loyalty and affection. Some of his Imperial Guards who were wounded at Waterloo killedthemselves on hearing that he had lost the battle, and many, who hadbeen thought to be dead, when brought to consciousness shouted "Vivel'Empereur. " The hospitals were full of dying men who uttered the samecry. One was having his leg amputated, and as he looked at the bloodstreaming from it, said that he would willingly give it all in theservice of Napoleon. Another, who was having a ball extracted fromhis left side near the heart, shouted, "Probe an inch deeper and thereyou will find the Emperor. "

The story of the old woman whom he and Duroc met during the secondcampaign in Italy, and while climbing Mont Tarare, is a strikingillustration of how he was regarded by the poorer classes. She hatedthe Bourbons and wanted to see the First Consul. Napoleon answered, "Bah! tyrant for tyrant--they are just the same thing. " "No, no!" shereplied; "Louis XVI. Was the king of the nobles, Bonaparte is the kingof the people. " This idea of the old woman was the universal feelingof her class right through his reign. No writer has been able to giveproof that it was withdrawn, even when he was overwhelmed withdisaster which drained his empire of vast masses of its population. Nocruel inhuman despot could magnetise with an enduring fascinationmultitudes of men and women as he did. It was not his incomparablegenius, nor his matchless military successes in battle. He was lovedbecause he was lovable, and was trusted because he inspired belief inhis high motives of amelioration of all down-trodden people. He ruledwith a stern but kindly discipline, and put a heavy hand on those whohad despotic tendencies. 

The Duchess of Abrantès, who smarted under some severe comments hehad made about her husband (Junot), the Duke of Abrantès, while at St. Helena, has been generous enough to say many kind things of him in hermemoirs. One of her references to him is to this effect:--"All I knowof him" (and she knew him well from childhood) "proves that hepossessed a great soul which quickly forgets and forgives. " She isvery fond of repeating in her memoirs that Napoleon proposed marriageto her mother, Madame Permon, who was herself a Corsican and knew theBonaparte family well. 

Madame Junot relates another story which is characteristic ofBonaparte. Such was the enthusiasm of the people on his march towardsParis after landing from Elba, that when he was holding a review ofthe National Guard at Grenoble, the people shouldered him, and a younggirl with a laurel branch in her hand approached him reciting someverses. "What can I do for you, my pretty girl?" said the Emperor. Thegirl blushed, then lifting her eyes to him replied, "I have nothing toask of your Majesty; but you would render me very happy by embracingme. " Napoleon kissed her, and turning his head to either side, saidaloud, with a fascinating smile, "I embrace in you all the ladies ofGrenoble. "

That Napoleon made mistakes no one will dispute; indeed, he sawclearly, and admitted freely, in his solitude, that he had made many. His minor fault (if it be right to characterise it as such) was inextending clemency to the many rascals that were plotting his ruin andcarrying on a system of peculation that was an abhorrence to him. Talleyrand, Fouché, and Bourrienne frequently came under hisdispleasure and were removed from his service, but were taken backafter his wrath had passed. 

Miot de Melito speaks of them as "Bourrienne and other subordinatescoundrels, " and, indeed, Miot de Melito does not exaggerate in hisestimate of them. Fouché says that Bourrienne kept him advised of allNapoleon's movements for 25, 000 francs per month, besides being bothpartner and patron in the house of Coulon Brothers, cavalry equipmentproviders, who failed for £120, 000. 

In 1805, Bourrienne was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at Hamburg, and during his stay there he made £290, 000 by delivering permits andmaking what is known as "arbitrary stoppages, " and besides betrayingBonaparte to the Bourbons, this vile traitor wrote to Talleyrand, afew days after the abdication at Fontainebleau: "I always desired thereturn of that excellent Prince, Louis XVIII. , and his august family. "But these things are mere shadows of the incomparable villainy ofthis thievish human jackdaw. 

His memoirs are said to have been written by an impecunious andmediocre penman called Villemarest, who also wrote "Mémoires deConstant" (the Emperor's valet), and both books have been veryextensively read and believed. Men have got up terrific lectures fromthem, authors have quoted from them whenever they desired an authorityto prove that which they wished themselves and their readers tobelieve of trumped-up stories of Napoleon's despotism and evildoings. Certainly, Bourrienne is the last and most unreliable of all thechroniclers that may be quoted when writing a history of the Emperor. Neither his character nor any of his personal qualities imbues theimpartial reader with confidence in either his criticisms orhistorical statements. 

Men like Fouché, Talleyrand, and Bourrienne, and political women likeMadame de Remusat and Madame de Staël, all of whom were brought underthe Emperor's displeasure by their zealous aptitude in one way andanother for intrigue, disloyalty, and, so far as the men areconcerned, glaring dishonesty in money matters, have assiduouslychronicled their own virtues and declaimed against Napoleon'sincalculable vices, and this course was no doubt chosen in order toavert the public gaze from too close a scrutiny into their ownperfidy. Their plan is not an unusual one under such circumstances;rascals never scruple to multiply offences more wicked than thosealready committed in order to prove that they are acting from a puresense of public morality and historical truth. If the object of theirattack be a benefactor, and one who has been obliged to rebuke ordismiss them for misdeeds, great or small, then they assail him withunqualified hostility. 

This unquestionably was the penalty paid by Napoleon for extendingclemency to men who, if they had been in the service of any othermonarch in Europe, would have been shut up in a fortress, or shot, themoment their perfidies had been discovered. The pity is that so muchof this declamatory stuff has been so willingly believed and made useof in order to defame the name of a sovereign whose besetting faultwas in relaxing just punishment bestowed on those who, he could neveraltogether forget, were his companions in other days. 

FOOTNOTES:

[12] Montholon wished to have the following simple inscription:"Napoléon, né à Ajaccio, le 15 Août, 1769, mort à St. Helena, le 5Mai, 1821. "

[13] Horne's "History of Napoleon, " vol. Ii. 

[14] Horne's "History of Napoleon, " vol. Ii. 

[15] "Correspondence of Napoleon I. "

[16] Ibid. 

[17] Madame Walewska bore him two children. This caused him to developthe idea of having an heir. 

CHAPTER III

THREE GENERATIONS: MADAME LA MÈRE, MARIE LOUISE, AND THE KING OF ROME

It seems as though Hell had been let loose on this great man and hisfamily. The crowned heads of Europe and the plutocrats stopped atnothing in order that they might make his ruin complete. They dare notrun the risk of putting him to death outright, but they engineered, bymeans of willing tools, a plan that was unheard-of in its atrociouscharacter. They poured stories of unfaithfulness into the ears of afaithless woman whose name will go down to posterity as an ignoblewife and callous mother. She took with her into Austria the King ofRome, a beautiful child who was put under the care of Austrian tutors. He was watched as though he held the destinies of empires in thehollow of his hand. His father's name was not allowed to fall on hisyouthful ears, and more than one tutor was dismissed because hesecretly told him something of his father's fame. Treated as aprisoner, spied upon by Metternich's satellites, not allowed to haveany visitors without this immortal Chancellor's permission, notallowed to communicate with his father's family or with Frenchmen, this pathetic figure, stuffed with Austrian views, is seized with agrowing desire to learn the history of his father, who declared in aletter to his brother Joseph in 1814 that he would rather see his sonstrangled than see him brought up in Vienna as an Austrian prince. [18]

Prince Napoleon in his excellent book--"Napoleon and HisDetractors"--refers to the young Prince playing a game of billiardswith Marmont and Don Miguel, the former having been one of hisfather's most important generals. He it was who betrayed him, and nowhe is become the Duke's confidant and instructor. The Prince says thathis cousin asked to be told about the deeds that his father had done, his fall, and exile. There does not appear to be any record inexistence as to what Marmont conveyed or withheld from the son ofMarie Louise, but there is much evidence to show that the young manwas not only an eager student of his father's career, but fullyrealised his own importance and influence on European politics. 

It has been stated that until 1830 he really knew nothing of passingevents in the land of his birth. Obenaus, his tutor, states in hisdiary, January 18, 1825: "During the afternoon walk, the politicalrelations of the Prince to the Imperial family and to the rest of theworld were discussed. " Count Neipperg advised him to study the Frenchlanguage, and his reply was: "This advice has not fallen on anunfruitful or an ungrateful soil. Every imaginable motive inspires mewith the desire to perfect myself in, and to overcome the difficultiesof, a language which at the present moment forms the most essentialpart of my studies. It is the language in which my father gave theword of command in all his battles, in which his name was covered withglory, and in which he has left us unparalleled memoirs of the art ofwar; while to the last he expressed the wish that I should neverrepudiate the nation into which I was born. "[19] He further adds, "The_chief_ aim of my life must be not to remain unworthy of my father'sfame. "

His grandfather, the Emperor Francis--who was reputed to be quitedevoted to him--said, "I wish that the Duke should revere the memoryof his father. " "Do not suppress the truth, " says he to Metternich(the disloyal friend of Napoleon). "Teach him above all to honour hisfather's memory. " The Chancellor replies, "I will speak to the Dukeabout his father as I should wish myself to be spoken of to my ownson. " What irony! Whatever attempts were made at any time todepreciate the Emperor, his son's loyalty to him never flinched. Heregarded his father in the light of a hero whose glorious traditionswere unequalled by any warrior or ruler of men. He drank in everyparticle of information he could discover about his father's life, andwas by no means ignorant of what would be his own great destiny shouldhe be permitted to live. 

A strong party in France longed to have the son of their Emperor onthe throne of France. A section of the Poles clamoured to have himproclaimed King of Poland after the Polish revolution, and the Greeksclaimed him as their future King. All existing records dealing withthe Prince's view concerning his position indicate quite clearly thathe never under-estimated his importance. He was fully alive to andappreciated the growing devotion to himself, his cause, and to thegreat name he bore. We learn from Marshal Marmont that the Princereceived him with marked cordiality when the Emperor Francis gave himpermission to relate to him his father's history. Marmont, like alltraitors, never neglected to put forth his popularity with the EmperorNapoleon. This is a habit with people who do great injury to theirfriends. They always make it appear that the injured person isafflicted with growing love for them--they never realise how much theyare loathed and mistrusted. 

The Prince at first received him with suspicion, then he tolerated himcoldly, and it was not until Marmont fascinated him with stories ofthe genius and unparalleled greatness of his father's history that theyoung man subdued his prejudices and encouraged the Marshal in hisvisits to his apartments, in order that he might learn all thatMarmont could tell him of his father's qualities and accomplishments. The young Napoleon caused the General to marvel at the quickintelligence he displayed in the pointed comments made on his father'scareer. In recognition of his services Marmont was presented with aportrait of the Prince. [20]

His cousin, Prince Napoleon, son of King Jerome, in his book "Napoleonand His Detractors, " obviously desires to convey the impression thatall questions, important or unimportant, relating to the Emperor, werestudiously kept from his son, and until he arrived at a certain agethere can be little doubt that undue and unnatural precautions weretaken to prevent the Emperor's name being spoken, but the means usedfor this purpose must have proved abortive, as everything points tohim having been well informed. He appears to have had an instinctiveknowledge that nullified the precautions of the Court of Vienna, andespecially its culpable Chancellor, Metternich, whose clumsy andheartless treatment is so apparent to all students of history. Probably this is the policy that prevailed up to 1830 which PrinceNapoleon complains of. Be that as it may, we are persuaded that theDuke was not only well informed, but took a keen interest in theevents of his own and of his father's life, long before the advent ofMarmont as his tutor. For instance, on one occasion his friend, CountProkesch, dined with his grandfather in 1830, and at table the Princewas afforded great pleasure in having the opportunity of conversingwith this distinguished man. The young Duke knew that Prokesch hadbroken a lance in 1818 in defence of his father, and he eagerlyavailed himself of the chance of saying some very complimentary thingsto the Count. He informs him that he has "known him a long while, andloved him because he defended his father's honour at a time when allthe world vied with each other to slander his name"; and then hecontinues: "I have read your 'Battle of Waterloo, ' and in order toimpress every line of it on my memory I translated it twice in Frenchand Italian. "[21] Obviously this young man was neither a dunce norindolent when his father's fame and his own interests were inquestion. 

One of the most remarkable features of this pathetic young life is theintense interest his mother's husband began to take in him, and heprobably owed a great deal to the fact that Count Neipperg urged himto make himself familiar with the glory of the Empire and his father'sdeeds. Strange though it may appear, the son of the Great Napoleon andthe morganatic husband of his mother were attached to each other inthe most intimate way. If he perceived the immoral relations betweenNeipperg and Marie Louise, the Duke never seems to have divulged it;but taking into account the passionate love and devotion he had forhis father's memory, it is barely likely that he knew either of theamorous connection or marriage having taken place between the Countand his mother, otherwise he would have had something to say about it, not only to Neipperg himself, but certainly to his friends Prokesch, Baron Obenaus, and Count Dietrichstein, and very naturally hisgrandfather. It may be that the circumstances of his life made himcautious, and even cunning, in keeping to himself an affair that wasgenerally approved by the most interested parties, but it is hardlylikely that the spirit of natural feeling had been so far crushed outof him as to forbid his openly resenting a further monstrous wrongbeing done to his Imperial father. 

The young Prince was the centre of great political interest, and theobject of ungrudging sympathy and devotion of a large public inEurope, and especially in France, and had his life been preserved afew more years he would, in spite of obstacles and prejudices, havebeen put on the throne of the land of his birth. 

Metternich, the inveterate trickster, does not appear to have had anyserious thought of encouraging the project of making the Duke Emperorof the French. His subtle game was to use him as a terror to LouisPhilippe when that monarch became refractory or showed signs ofcovetousness. 

The Prince carried himself high above sordid party methods. He wasproud of being heir to a throne that his father had made immortal andhe was determined not to soil it. If it was to be reclaimed, allobstacles must be removed ere he would lend his countenance to it. There must be a clear, uninterrupted passage. Thirty-four millionsouls, it was claimed, were anxious for his restoration to France. Amongst the leaders were to be found some of his father's oldcompanions in arms and in exile, amongst whom none were moreenthusiastic than the loyal and devoted Count Montholon, Bertrand, thepetulant and penitent Gourgaud, and Savary, Duke of Rovigo. These werejoined to thousands of other brave men who would have considered it anhonour to shed their last drop of blood for the cause, and in memoryof him whom they had loved so well. The two first-named were executorsto his father's will, in which Napoleon enjoins his son not to attemptto avenge his death but to profit by it. He reminds him that thingshave changed. He was obliged to daunt Europe by his arms, but now theway is to convince her. His son is urged not to mount the throne bythe aid of foreign influence, and he is charged to deserve theapprobation of posterity. He is reminded that "MERIT may be pardoned, but not intrigue, " and that he is to "propagate in all uncivilised andbarbarous countries the benefits of Christianity and civilisation. Religious ideas have more influence than certain narrow-mindedphilosophers are willing to believe. They are capable of renderinggreat services to humanity. "

These are only a few of the excellent thoughts transmitted to theyoung man from the tragic rock whose memories will ever defame thename of those who combined to commit a crime unequalled in politicalhistory. 

It is none the less a phenomenon that this "abode of darkness, " somonstrous in the history of its perfidy, should be illumined by thegreat figure that stamped its fame for evermore with his personality. 

One of the last and finest works of genius he did there was to draw upa constitution for his son. It is doubtful whether Montholon eversucceeded in conveying it to the Prince, who passed on before thelegitimate call to put it into practice came. 

The Powers that made holy war for the last time on the great soldierwith 900, 000 men against his 128, 000 arrogated the right to outlaw andbrand him as the disturber of public peace. I have already said thiswas their ostensible plea, but the real reason was his determinationto exterminate feudalism and establish democratic institutions as soonas he could bring the different factions into harmony. He failed, butthe colossal cost of his failure in men and money is unthinkable. Hissubjugation left Great Britain alone with a debt, as already stated, of eight hundred millions, and then there was no peace. 

The constitution intended for his son could have been verybeneficially applied to some of the nations represented at theCongress of Aix-la-Chapelle by the allied sovereigns who declared himan outlaw, and spent their time in allocating slices of other people'sterritory to each other. The only nation that came badly out of theCongress was Great Britain. 

This terrible despot, who was beloved by the common people and hatedby the oligarchy, left behind him a constitution that might well beadopted by the most democratic countries. 

The first article--composed of six words: "The sovereignty dwells inthe nation"--stamps the purpose of it with real democracy. It might dono harm to embody some of its clauses into our own constitution at thepresent time. We very tardily adopted some of its laws long after hisdeath, and we might go on copying to our advantage. He was a realprogressor, but his team was difficult to guide. Had he beenconciliated and allowed to remain at peace, he would have democratisedthe whole of Europe, but the fear of that, or the legitimacy idea, wasundoubtedly the great underlying cause of much of the trouble. Themistrust and animus against the father was reflected upon the son, whowas practically a State prisoner. 

During childhood the Prince was strong and healthy, and his robustphysique caused favourable comment. It was not until 1819 that hishealth became affected by an attack of spotted fever. This passed awayin a few weeks, but the decline of his health, which was attributed tohis rapid growth, dates from that period. He died prematurely on July22, 1832, at Schönbrunn, and the accounts which may be relied uponindicate either wilfully careless or incompetent medical treatment. Itis even asserted that this heir to the throne of France, ushered intwenty-one years before as the herald of Peace, was to be regarded asa source of infinite danger, and for that barbaric reason his healthwas allowed to be slowly and surely undermined until death took himfrom the restraining influences and crimeful policy of the Courts ofEurope. Great efforts have been made to convince a sceptical publicthat his early death was the result of youthful indiscretions, butthis is stoutly denied by Prokesch, who declares that he was astrictly moral youth, and Baron Obenaus, in his diary, justifies thisopinion, if there was nothing else to support it. Moreover the sameAnton, Count Prokesch was asked by Napoleon III. To tell him the truthas to the alleged love affairs, and he averred that the rumours werewithout foundation. 

The King of Rome died at Schönbrunn in the same room that his fatherhad occupied in 1809. In Paris a report was put about that he had beenpoisoned by the Court of Vienna. This opinion has been handed down, and there are many persons to-day who have a firm belief in itspossibility. 

Another common rumour, current in 1842, was that Metternich sent apoisoned lemon by Prokesch, which had done its work, and even thishighly improbable story is not without reason believed, becauseMetternich was known to be the most heartless cunning Judas inpolitics at that time. He had betrayed the father of the Prince whilehe was declaring the most loyal friendship. He admits this, nay, evenboasts of it, in his memoirs, and his shameful conduct has its rewardby having won for him the stigma of wishing for, and hastening on, thedeath of an unfortunate young man for whom ordinary manliness shouldhave claimed compassion. This moral assassin of father and sondeclared that he had "used all the means in his power to second thehand of God" by trapping Napoleon into the clutches of the combinedmoralists of Europe. The Usurper was to be ruined, then peaceproclaimed for evermore. That was their pretence, though it could nothave been their conviction. If it was, they were soon disillusioned. 

I made a long journey in company with a Danish statesman a few yearsago, and amongst other things that we conversed about was the reignand fall of Napoleon. This gentleman held up his hands and said to me, "Oh! what a blunder the criminal affair was. Had the Powers beheld themission of this man aright, what a blessing it would have been to theworld!"--and there is not much difficulty in supporting the view ofthis Danish gentleman. The more one probes into the history of theperiod, the more vivid the blunder appears. 

Metternich has the distinction of being eulogised by M. Taine, who wasneither fair nor accurate, and there is not much glory in beingchampioned by a man whose book is made up of libels. Metternich mayhere be dismissed as being only one of many whose highest ambition wasto destroy the man whom the French nation had made their monarch. Their aim was accomplished, but the spirit that evolved from the wreckof the Revolution still lives on, and may rise again to be avenged forthe great crime that was committed. 

Whether the gifted and amiable son of the Emperor Napoleon wasdespatched by the cruellest of all assassinations or came by hispremature death by neglect, or by natural and constitutional causes, is a matter that may never be cleared up, though the actions of thehigh commissioners in the nauseous drama cause lingering doubts toprevail as to their innocence. It is certain that several determinedattempts were made to take the Prince's life, and large sums wereoffered to desperadoes to carry out this murderous deed. Then theCourt of Vienna were in constant fear of his abduction. Hisinvitations to come to France were perpetual. 

A lady cousin--the Countess Napoleone Camerata, daughter of ElisaBacciochi, a sister of the Emperor, easily obtained a passport fromthe Pope's Secretary of State, and coquetted so successfully with theAustrian Ambassador, that he gave it a double guarantee of good faithby signing it. This impetuous and eccentric female made her wayuninterruptedly to Vienna, found her cousin on the doorstep, made arush for him and seized his hand, then shouted, "Who can prevent mykissing my sovereign's hand?" She also found means to convey lettersto him. There is not much said about this Napoleonic dash, but fromthe records that are available the incident set the heroes--comprisingthe allied Courts (including France)--into a flutter of excitement. The fuss created by the enterprise of the pretty little Countess givesa lurid insight into the wave of comic derangement which must havetaken possession of men's minds. 

This lady received a pension during the Third Empire, and in eighteenyears it mounted to over six million francs. She died in Brittany, 1869, and left her fortune to the Prince Imperial. 

That there was a determined and well-conceived plot to carry the Dukeoff is undoubted, but the counter-plots prevailed against the moreardent Bonapartists who were thirsting for a resurrection of theglorious Empire. Prince Louis Napoleon, the eldest son of King Louis, disagreed with the idea of his family. He looked upon the Emperor'sson as being an Austrian Prince, imbued with Austrian methods andpolicy, and therefore dangerous to the best interests of France. ThisPrince went so far as to hail with pleasure the crowning of LouisPhilippe. He died in 1831. In the following year his Imperial cousinpassed on too, and his demise was a great blow to the Bonapartists'cause, and it well-nigh killed the aged Madame Mère, who had centredall her hopes in him. Marie Louise announced his death, to hisgrandmother and asks her to "accept on this sorrowful occasion theassurance of the kindly feeling entertained for her by heraffectionate daughter, " and here is the cold, dignified, crushingreply from Madame Mère. It is dictated, and dated Rome, August 6, 1832:--

 "Madame, notwithstanding the political shortsightedness which has constantly deprived me of all news of the dear child whose death you have been so considerate to announce to me, I have never ceased to entertain towards him the devotion of a mother. In him I still found an object of some consolation, but to my great age, and to my incessant and painful infirmities, God has seen fit to add this blow as fresh proof of His mercy, since I firmly believe that He will amply atone to him in His glory for the glory of this world. 

 "Accept my thanks, madame, for having put yourself to this trouble in such sorrowful circumstances to alleviate the bitterness of my grief. Be sure that it will remain with me all my life. My condition precludes me from even signing this letter, and I must therefore crave your permission to delegate the task to my brother. "

Never a word about the lady's relationship to her son or to herself. Her reply is studiously formal, but every expression of it betokensgrief and thoughts of the great martyr whom the woman she was writingto had wronged. There is not a syllable of _open_ reproach, thoughthere runs through it a polite, withering indictment that mustassuredly have cut deeply into the callous nature of this notoriousAustrian Archduchess who had played her son so falsely. 

This wonderful mother of a wonderful family seems to have been theleast suspected of political plotting of all the Bonapartists. Shewas respected by all, and revered and beloved by many. Crowned headswere not indifferent to her strength and nobility of character, butthe stupid old King who succeeded her son to the throne of France gotit into his head that she was harbouring agents in Corsica to exciterebellion, and he thereupon had a complaint lodged against her. PiusVII. , who knew Madame Mère, sent his secretary to see her about thissupposed intrigue. She listened to what the representative of the Popehad to say, and then with stern dignity began her reply:--

"Monseigneur, I do not possess the millions with which they credit me, but let M. De Blacas tell his master Louis XVIII. That if I did, Ishould not employ them to foment troubles in Corsica, or to gainadherents for my son in France, since he already has enough; I shoulduse them to fit out a fleet to liberate him from St. Helena, where themost infamous perfidy is holding him captive. "

Then she bowed reverently and left the room. 

This was indeed a slashing rebuff both to Pius VII. And the "MostChristian King. "

Another very good story is told of this extraordinary old lady by H. Noel Williams. It appears she persisted after the fall of the Empirein using the Imperial arms on her carriage. 

"Why should I discontinue this symbol?" she asked. "Europe bowed tothe dust before my son's arms for ten years, and her sovereigns havenot forgotten it. "

On one occasion she was out driving when a block occurred. TwoAustrian officers, who were riding past, boldly looked into thecarriage. Madame Mère, observing the Austrian uniform, to which shehad an aversion, was excited to indignation, so letting down thewindow she exclaimed to them, "What, gentlemen, is your pleasure? Ifit is to see the mother of the Emperor Napoleon, here she is!" Theofficers were naturally crestfallen. They respectfully saluted androde off. These stinging shots of hers were quite disturbing; theyalways went home, and reached too far for the comfort of her son'spersecutors. 

Her letter to the allied sovereigns who met at Aix-la-Chapelle is oneof the most trenchant indictments that has ever been penned. Itslogic, its brave, though courteous, appeal for justice andmagnanimity, and above all the echo of motherly love whichcharacterises it, stamp it as a document worth cherishing. The lastparagraph will fascinate the imagination of generations yet to come, and heavy judgment will be laid on those that were committing thecrime. 

"Reasons of State, " she says, "have their limits, and _posterity_, which _forgets nothing_, admires above everything the generosity ofconquerors. "

The allied sovereigns were afraid to answer the letter. Better fortheir reputations if they had obviated the necessity of writing it. The testimony of Pius VII. Is that she was "a God-fearing woman whodeserved to be honoured by every prince in Christendom. "

A great joy came to Madame Mère in 1830, when they told her that theGovernment had decided to replace the statue of Napoleon on theVendome Column. She went into ecstasies over this, but bewailed herlameness (she had broken her thigh that year) and total blindness, which would forever prevent her beholding the statue. She turned awayfrom these painful reflections and comforted herself with a few wordsof sad humour, remarking that if she could have been in Paris as informer days, God would have given her strength to climb to the top ofthe column to assure herself that it was there. She refused toseparate her lot from that of her children, and would not accept theproposal that the sentence of banishment should be repealed unless itincluded all her family. This remarkable woman died February 2, 1836, aged eighty-five, and Napoleon III. Had the remains of his grandmotherand Cardinal Fesch removed to Ajaccio in 1851. Six years later theremains were again removed and deposited in a vault constructed toreceive them in a church which was built subsequent to the firstinterment at Ajaccio. 

Pity and strange it is that the Emperor's faithless second wife shouldbe noticed at all in history. Happily, very few even of thosehistorians who are anti-Napoleon have anything very complimentary tosay of her. She survived her son the King of Rome fifteen years, andthe earth claimed her in December, 1847, her age being fifty-six. Hadthis amiable adulteress, who wished success to the allied armiesagainst her husband, lived a little longer, she would have witnessedthe humiliating spectacle of her father's successor being forced toabdicate his throne in favour of the nephew of her Imperial husband, whose memory all noble hearts revere, and whose sufferings, domesticand public, will ever lie at the door of this woman who allowedherself to be the base accomplice of a great assassination. The mostfitting reference to her death appeared in the _Times_ newspaper, which said that "nothing in her life became her like the leaving it. "On April 15, 1821, in the third paragraph of his will, Napoleon, withconsistent magnanimity, if not wilful indifference to this passive, icy female's abandonment of him, says: "I have always had reason to bepleased with my dearest Marie Louise. I retain for her, to my lastmoment, the most tender sentiments. I beseech her to watch, in orderto preserve my son from the snares which yet environ his infancy. "What irony!

It is quite a reasonable proposition to suppose that Napoleon musthave had a secret suspicion of his wife's infidelity. It is even hardto believe that he had not a full knowledge of her actual associationwith Count Neipperg. It will be observed that while his reference toher is dutiful, not to say tender, there is still something lacking, as though he kept something snugly in the back of his head, somethinglike the following:--"I cannot make this historical document withoutalluding to you for my son's sake, though I know full well you havewronged me and consorted with my enemies and betrayers. I know allthis, but I am about to pass on, and true to my instincts ofcompassion and to my Imperial dignity, I must carry my sorrow andgrief with me, and having given you as good a testimonial as I can, Imust leave you to settle accounts with posterity as to your conducttowards me and your adopted country. I shall not do by you as you havedone. I hope full allowance will be made for all you have made mesuffer. Meanwhile, I am about to relieve the digestion of Kings bypassing to the Elysian Fields, there to be greeted by Kleber, Desaix, Bessières, Duroc, Ney, Murat, Masséna, and Berthier, and we shall talkof the deeds we have done together. Yes, Marie Louise, I bend underthe terrible yoke your father, his Chancellor, and the alliedsatellites have made for me, and yet I keep these incomparablewarriors of Europe in a state of alarm. I wish you joy of your allies, who have behaved so nobly to your husband in captivity. I have oftenthought in my solitude, Louise, that it would have been a more popularnational union had I carried out my intention of taking for my secondwife a Frenchwoman. It may be that my marriage with you, consummatedby every token of peace and goodwill, was really the beginning of mydownfall. Ah! how much more noble of you to have followed me in myadversity to Elba. You might have done great service to France and toyour native land, to say nothing of the possibility of breaking up thecoalition against me and saving rivers of blood. Waterloo might neverhave been fought had you emulated your matchless sister-in-law, Catherine of Westphalia, in her attitude of supreme womanhood, andyour fame might have surpassed that of Joan of Arc, and been handeddown to distant ages as an example of heroic firmness and devotion, and then you would have been beatified by the Church and acclaimed asaint by the people to which you belong. You shared with me theunequalled grandeur of the most powerful throne on earth. I wasdevoted to you and you betrayed me. Your father insisted that youshould break your marriage vow and found in you a willing accomplicein the outrage committed against me. You had shared my throne, and Ihad reason to expect that every human instinct would call you to myside in my exile, and the thought that burns into my soul is that inthe infamy of years, posterity will not be reproached for averting itseye from you as well as from that heartless father who requested youto forsake me. Catherine of Westphalia did better. She defied herfather, and clung more closely to her husband when he needed all thesuccour of a sympathetic being to comfort him in his hour of diremisfortune. These gloomy thoughts are forced upon me by every law ofnature, and now that I have but a brief time left, I am impelled tobequeath to you in the third paragraph of my last will and testamentsome tender remembrance of you. I do this notwithstanding that you, Marie Louise, Empress of the French, prayed to God that He would blessthe arms of the enemies of the land of your adoption. And then thatletter which I sent you from Grenoble in a nutshell on my way fromElba to Paris to reclaim the throne which treason had deprived me of. I requested you to come to me with my son the King of Rome. Youignored that, as you did other communications which I sent, and whichI am assured you received. I make no public accusation against you. _That_ would be undignified and unkingly. "

In spite of his apparent unaltered affection for his wife, Napoleonreflectively made occasional remarks during his exile which indicatedthat her conduct was much in his mind; and the foregoing portrayal ofhis sentiments towards her may be regarded as a human probability. Theremarkable thing is that he should have made any reference at all tothis erotic woman in his will. It puzzled his companions in exile, whoknew well enough that she was the cause of much mental anguish to him. It afflicted him so keenly on two notable occasions that he drewpathetically a comparison between her conduct and that which wouldhave been Josephine's under similar circumstances. It is anastonishing characteristic in Napoleon that he always forgave thosewho had injured him most. 

In order to emphasise the spirit of forgiveness, he specially refersto a matter that must have taken a lot of forgiving. In the sixthparagraph of his will he says: "The two unfortunate results of theinvasions of France, when she had still so many resources, are to beattributed to the treason of Marmont, Augereau, Talleyrand, and LaFayette. I forgive them--may the posterity of France forgive them as Ido. " Then in the seventh paragraph he pardons his brother Louis forthe libel he published in 1820, although, as he states, "It is repletewith false assertions and falsified documents. " He heaps coals of fireon Marie Louise by requesting Marchand to preserve some of his hairand to cause a bracelet to be made of it with a little gold clasp. Itis highly probable that the wife of Count Neipperg would rather nothave been reminded of her amorous habits and other culpable conduct bythese little attentions. 

Neipperg, this foul and willing instrument of seduction, whosebaseness insults every moral law, suffered great agony for three yearsfrom an incurable disease, and died in December, 1828, agedfifty-seven years. The Kings and regicides in their ferocious fear hadmade it an important part of their policy that Marie Louise should bethe pivot on which the complete ruin of Napoleon should centre, soNeipperg was fixed upon as a fit and proper person to mould theex-Empress into passive obedience to the wishes of her husband'sinveterate enemies. Meneval notes that this man had already amours tohis credit. He had indeed run away with another man's wife, and hadissue by her. Probably his amorous reputation influenced theoligarchy in their choice. 

In order that the plan might be carried out, he adroitly improvisedfalsehood, poured into her ears stories of faithlessness on the partof her Imperial husband, read books and pamphlets manufactured andexactly suited for the purpose he had in view. His instructions wereto carry things as far he could get them to go, and he did this withrevolting success. 

God's broad earth has not known a more ugly incident than that ofcarrying personal hatred and political cowardice to such a pitch ofdelirium as that of forcing a weak woman to forsake her husband, sacrifice the interests of her child, and tempt her to break hermarriage vow in order that her husband's ruin might be more completelyassured. As a matter of high policy its wickedness will never beexcelled. 

At the death of her morganatic husband Marie Louise became"inconsolable. " She gave orders for a "costly mausoleum to be put upso that her grief might be durably established. " In reply to a letterof condolence written to her by the eminent Italian, Dr. Aglietti, inwhich he seems to have made some courteous and consoling observations, she says "that all the efforts of art were powerless, for it isimpossible to fight against the _Divine Will_. You are very right insaying that time and religion can alone diminish the bitterness ofsuch a loss. Alas! the former, far from exercising its power over me, only daily increases my grief. " This "amiable, " grief-stricken royalsham, overcharged with expressions of religious fervour, succumbsagain to her natural instincts. "Time, " she avers, "cannot console, "but only increases the depth of her grief for "our dear departed. "

Her sentiments would be consummately impressive were it not that weknow how wholly deceitful she was without in the least knowing it. Butthe creeping horror of time is quickly softened by her marriage in1833 to a Frenchman called De Bombelles, who was in the service of hernative land, and is said to have had English blood in his veins. Inspite of the loyal effort of Meneval to make her ironic processionthrough life appear as favourable as he can, the only true impressionthat can be arrived at is that she was without shame, self-control, orpity. 

A strange sympathiser of Napoleon in his dire distress was a daughterof Maria Theresa and a sister of Marie Antoinette--Queen MarieCaroline, grandmother to Marie Louise. She had regarded the Emperor ofthe French with peculiar aversion, but when his power was broken andhe became the victim of persecution, this good woman forgot herprejudices, sent for Meneval, and said to him that she had had causeto regard Napoleon at one time as an enemy, but now that he was introuble she forgot the past. She declared that if it was still thedetermination of the Court of Vienna to sever the bonds of unitybetween man and wife in order that the Emperor might be deprived ofconsolation, it was her granddaughter's duty to assume disguise, tiesheets together, lower herself from the window, and bolt. 

There is little doubt the dexterous and spirited old lady gave Louisesound advice, and had she acted under her holy influence, her namewould have become a monument of noblemindedness, a lesson, in fact, against striking a vicious, cowardly blow at the unfortunate. It ismoreover highly probable that Queen Caroline felt, at the time, thatthe political marriage of her granddaughter to the French Emperor wasill-assorted and tragic, but the deed having been done, she upheld thedivine law of marriage. Besides, she knew that Napoleon had been anindulgent, kind husband to the uneven-minded girl, and that, whateverhis faults may have been, it was her duty to comfort him and share inhis sorrow as she had so amply shared in his glory. Hence she urges areunion with the exile, but the ex-Empress may have made itimpossible ere this to enjoy the consoling sweets of conjugalcompanionship, and her subsequent conduct makes it more than likelythat she was too deeply compromised to abandon the vortex and face thepenalty of the errors she had committed. 

"I could listen, " says Napoleon, "to the intelligence of the death ofmy wife, my son, or of all my family, without a change of feature--notthe slightest emotion or alteration of countenance would be visible. But when alone in my chamber, _then_ I suffer. Then the feelings ofthe man burst forth. "

We are not accustomed to think of this strong personality as beingovercome with soft emotions. We have regarded him as thepersonification of strength, and yet with all his gigantic power overmen and himself, he had a real womanly supply of human tenderness. Once he was seen weeping before the portrait of his much beloved son, whom he called "Mon pauvre petit chou. " "I do not blush to admit, "said he on a memorable occasion, "that I have a good deal of amother's tenderness. I could never count on the faithfulness of afather who did not love his children. "

FOOTNOTES:

[18] "Correspondance de Napoléon, " vol. 128, p. 133. 

[19] Quoted from De Wertheimer's "Duke of Reichstadt, " p. 330. 

[20] See "Memoirs. "

[21] See "Memoirs. "

CHAPTER IV

THE OLIGARCHY, THEIR AGENTS AND APOLOGISTS

It would be an easy task to enlarge on the excellent qualities of thiswonderful man. Volumes could be written about this phase of hisdazzling career alone, and yet we have miscreants such as Talleyrandproclaiming to the Conference of "Christian Kings" and traitors thatthe greatest, most powerful, and most humane prince of the age "mustbe exterminated like a mad dog. " The news of his flight from Elba andarrival in Paris, vociferously acclaimed by the French people as theirlawful sovereign, threw this band of parasites into apoplectic terror;Talleyrand, of all creatures, dictating to the Conference as to thewording of the proclamation that should be issued outlawing hisEmperor, whom he and they styled "Usurper. " If it were not sooutrageous a violation of decency, we would look upon it as the mostcomical incident notified in history. Talleyrand, the mostaccomplished traitor and barefaced thief in Europe, except perhapsBourrienne, he who could not prevent himself from fumbling in hissovereign's and everybody else's pockets whenever the opportunityoccurred, to be allowed to sit in conference with the anointed rulersof Europe is really too comic. 

Napoleon was styled "Usurper" by these saintly Legitimists, not one ofwhom attained kingship so honourably and legitimately as the man whomthey had sworn to destroy, even though the whole of Europe were to bedrenched in blood by the process of it. They set themselves todisfranchise and usurp the rights of the French people, who had onlyjust again ratified by millions of votes his claim to the throne, andthe gallant and heroic response to their requisition that he shouldleave Elba and become their ruler again. Surely it will never becontended that Napoleon's claims were less legitimate than those ofthe Prince of Orange, or the Elector of Hanover, or Frederic Williamthe great Elector, whose sole qualification for kingship consisted inhaving the instincts of a tiger. Of the latter Lord Macaulay says, "His palace was hell, and he the most execrable of fiends. " His soleambition seemed to be to pay fabulous sums for giant soldiers, and heshowed an inhuman aversion to his son, afterwards known as Fredericthe Great, and his daughter Wilhelmina. He was as ignorant andill-conditioned a creature as could be found in the whole world, acowardly rascal who found pleasure in kicking ladies whom he mightmeet in the street and ordering them "home to mind their brats. " Nomore need be said of the father of the great Frederic, whose "Life"took Thomas Carlyle thirteen years in searching musty German historiesto produce. Carlyle says, "One of the reasons that led me to write'Frederic' was that he managed not to be a liar and charlatan as hiscentury was"; and indeed his adoration for Frederic is quitepardonable. He had spent thirteen years of his life in the supremeeffort of making him a hero, and his great work, contained in eightvolumes, is a matchless piece of literature; but there is nothing init to justify anyone believing that Frederic was neither a liar nor acharlatan. It is true Frederic finished better than he began, buttruthfulness and honesty were not conspicuous virtues of his. He lied, broke faith, and plundered wherever and whenever it suited hispurpose, and some of his other vices were unspeakable. There is nodoubt he was both a quack and a coward when he broke the PragmaticSanction and began to steal the territory of Maria Theresa. The powersof England, France, Spain, Russia, Poland, Prussia, Sweden, Denmark, the Germanic body, all had agreed by treaty to keep it. Had he been anhonourable man and possessed of the qualities Carlyle credits himwith, he would have stood by his oath. Instead of defending his ally, he pounced upon her like a vulture, and plunged Europe into adevastating, bloody war, with the sole object of robbery; and all hecould say for himself in extenuation of such base conduct was:"Ambition, interest, the desire of making people talk about me, carried the day; and I decided for war. "

Truly Frederic was not a good man, and his reputation for being greatwas mainly acquired because the Powers and circumstances allowed himto succeed after seven long years of sanguinary conflict. 

Indeed, there was not a single act in the whole of Napoleon's careerthat approaches the lawlessness and cruelty of Frederic. He reallyusurped nothing, and Frederic usurped everything that he could put hishands on, regardless of every moral law; but then he ignored all morallaws. There is no need for comparison, but it is just as well to pointout that the plea of legitimacy is very shallow, and the contention ofthe Allies is an amazing burlesque emanating from the brains of anindustrious mediocrity. 

These legitimate monarchs, through their Ministers, used barefacedlyto inspire journalists to write the doctrine of waste of blood asbeing a natural process of dealing with the problem of overpopulation. History is pregnant with proof that their cry for peace was animpudent hypocrisy. They might have had it at any time, but this didnot suit their policy of legitimacy. Countless thousands of humanbeings were slaughtered to satisfy the aversion of kings and nobles tothe plan of one man who towered above them, and insisted on breakingup the nefarious system of feudalism and kingship by divine right. They loathed both him and his system. They plotted for hisassassination, and intrigued with all the ferocity of wild animalsagainst his humane and enlightened government. He trampled over alltheir satanic dodges to overthrow the power that had been so oftenenthusiastically placed in his hands by the sovereign people. Heconstructed roads and canals, and introduced new methods of creatingcommerce. He introduced a great scheme of expanding education, science, art, literature. Every phase of enlightenment was not onlyinitiated, but made compulsory so far as he could enforce itsapplication. He re-established religion, and gave France a new code oflaws that are to this day notoriously practical, comprehensive, andeminently just. 

He not only re-established religion, but he upheld the authority ofthe Pope as the recognised head of the Roman Church. He built his"pyramids in the sea, " established a free press, and declared himselfin favour of manhood suffrage. He included in his system a unificationof all the small continental States, and was declaimed against as abrigand for doing it. Wherever his plans were carried out the peoplewere prosperous and happy, so long as they were allowed to toil intheir own way in their fields and in other industrial pursuits. 

It was the perpetual spirit of war that overshadowed the whole ofEurope which prevented his rule from solving a great problem. He, inthis, was invariably the aggrieved. The plan which he had carried intopractical solution was wrecked by the allies, and in less than acentury after the great reformer had been removed from the sphere ofenmity and usefulness, Prince Bismarck forced these small States intounification with the German Empire, thereby carrying into effect thevery system Napoleon was condemned for bringing under his suzerainty. What satire, what malignity of fate, that Bismarck, a positiverefutation of genius in comparison with the French Emperor, shouldsucceed in resurrecting the fabric that the latter had so proudlybuilt up for France, only to be in a few short years the prize ofGermany, recognised by the very Powers who fought with such embitteredaggressiveness against the great captain and statesman who made notonly modern France, but modern Europe; and who at any time during hisreign could, by making a sign, as he has said, have had the nobles ofFrance massacred. These bloodsucking creatures were always in the roadof reform, always steeped overhead in political intrigue, alwaysconcerned in plots against the life of Napoleon, and always shriekingwith resentment when they and their accomplices were caught. Somewriters are so completely imbued with the righteousness of murderingNapoleon, they convey the impression that when any attempt failed, theperpetrators, instead of being punished, should have had thedecoration of the Legion of Honour placed upon them by himself. Theyare also quite unconscious that they are backing a mean revenge and anawful mockery of freedom when they eloquently shout "Hosanna!"

According to them St. Helena was the only solution of the problem, ifit may be so called, and the Powers who sent him there must have hadan inspiration from above. They have no conception that the Alliesperpetrated another crucifixion on the greatest and (if we are tojudge him by _reliable_ records) the best man of the nineteenthcentury. Ah! fickle France! you are blighted with eternal shame forhaving allowed these cowardly vindictive conspirators, popularlycalled the Allies, to besmear _you_, as well as themselves, with theblood of a hero. 

France had resources at her command which could and should have beenused to drive the invaders beyond her boundaries. Frenchmen can neverlive down the great blunder of abandoning their Emperor, forsakingthemselves and the duty they owed to their native land. They forsookin the hour of need all that was noble and honourable, and castthemselves into a cauldron of treason, such as has never been heard ofin the world's history. They were soon disillusioned, but it was thentoo late. The poison had done its work, and France was placed underthe subjection of traitors, place-hunters and foreign Powers for manyyears to come. 

I have already said that Louis XVIII. Was put on the throne, not bythe French people, but by their conquerors and their myrmidons. He didnot long survive his ignoble accession. Then came Charles X. , who hadto fly to Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh because he governed so ill. Hisqualification to rule was in putting down all reform and liberty;after him came Louis Philippe, but even he only governed onsufferance, though on the whole he occupied an onerous position withcreditable success. A monarch who rules under the tender mercies of acapricious people, and worse still, a capricious and not tooscrupulous monarchy of monarchs, is not to be envied, and this wasexactly the position of Louis Philippe. He was beset by the noisyclamour of many factions, besides having to keep a shrewd eye on thoselofty men to whom he had to look with perpetual nervous tension forthe stability and endurance of his throne. He knew the heart of thenation was centred on St. Helena, and that a wave of repentance waspassing over the land. The people wished to atone for the crime theyallowed to be committed in 1815. 

Louis Philippe showed great wisdom and foresight. Nothing could havebeen done with more suitable delicacy than the negotiations whichcaused the British Government to consent to give the remains of theEmperor up to the French. The air of importance and swagger put intoit by Lord Palmerston is supremely farcical, but then the wholesenseless blunder from beginning to end was a farce, which does notredound to our credit. It is incredible that a nation so thicklystocked with men of ability in every important department should havehad the misfortune to have her affairs entrusted to Ministers andofficials who were childishly incompetent and ludicrously vindictive. Men of meagre mental calibre, who hold office under the Crown oranywhere else, are invariably fussy, pompous, overbearing, andstifling with conceit. This condition of things was in full swingduring the Napoleonic regime and captivity, and that is the period weare concerned about. There does not appear to have been a single manof genius in Europe but himself. The population of France who werecontemporary with him during his meteoric leadership remembered him asa matchless reformer and an unconquerable warrior. Their devotion andbelief in his great gifts had sunk deeply into their being. A coupleof generations had come into existence from 1815 to 1840, but even tothose who knew him only as a captive, he was as much their Emperor andtheir hero and martyr as he was to his contemporaries. The pride ofrace, the glory of the Empire and of its great founder, was suckledinto them from the time of birth, and as they grew into manhood andwomanhood they became permeated with a passionate devotion to hiscause. They claimed that his deliverance to the people "he loved sowell" was a right that should not be withheld. The spirit of sullendetermination that he should be given up had taken deep root. They hadarrived at the point when the igniting of a spark would have createda conflagration. There was to be no more chattering. They meantbusiness, and were resolved that they would stand no more red-tapefussy nonsense from either their Government or the Government who kepta regiment of British soldiers to guard his tomb, lest he should againdisturb the peace of Europe. They let it be known that no more of thatkind of humbug would be tolerated without reprisals, and the hint wastaken. Louis Philippe grasped the situation, and formed an expeditionwith his son Prince Joinville as chief, who was accompanied by BaronLas Cases, member of the Chamber of Deputies; General Count Bertrand;M. L'Abbé Conquereau, almoner to the expedition; four former servantsof Napoleon--viz. , Saint Denis and Noverraz, valets-de-chambre;Pierron, officer of the kitchen; and Archambaud, butler--Marchand, oneof the executors, and the quarrelsome and disloyal General Gourgaud, of whom we may have something more to say further on. This sameGourgaud, who lied so infamously about his Imperial benefactor when helanded in London, has said that "he could not express what he feltwhen he again found himself near that extraordinary being, that giantof the human race, to whom he had sacrificed all and to whom he owedall he was. " These thoughts, and many more not uttered, would come tohim when he stood beside the sepulchre of the master whom he had sogrievously wronged and who was now and henceforth to be recognised ashaving been the "legitimate ruler of his country. "

Count Montholon, the most devoted and most constant follower ofNapoleon and his family, was not of the expedition. He was engaged inhelping the nephew of his hero to ascend the throne of his illustriousuncle, and the effort landed them both in the fortress of Ham. LouisPhilippe and his Ministers were very jealous of anyone sharing in anypart of the glory of having Napoleon brought to the banks of theSeine. Hence, when King Joseph and Prince Louis Napoleon offered thearms of the Emperor to the nation, the King refused them, butprevailed upon General Bertrand to give them to him, that he mightgive them to the nation. Napoleon had given the sword he wore atAusterlitz and his arms to Bertrand when on his deathbed. Prince Louiscould not stand the great captain's name being trumpeted about forother people's glory. He claimed that it belonged to him. He was thelegitimate heir to all its glory, and this too previous assumption gothim imprisoned in Ham for asserting what he protested was his right. 

Meanwhile the _Bellepoule_ goes lumbering along, impeded by calms andgales, but anchored safely off Jamestown on October 8, 1840. Of coursemany formalities had to be carried out, so that the exhumation did notcommence until the 15th at midnight. They came upon the coffin at tenin the forenoon, opened it, and found the body well preserved. Thereoneveryone was overcome with emotion. After the coffin was depositedwith profound solemnity and the national flag placed over it, thehonours which would have been paid to the Emperor had he been livingwere paid to his remains on October 18, 1840. 

The expedition set sail, and had only been a few days out when thecaptain of a passing vessel called the _Hamburg_ informed PrinceJoinville that war between France and Great Britain was imminent, andtwo or three days later this was confirmed by circumstantialinformation to him by a Dutch vessel called the _Egmont_. Officers ofthe two other vessels of the expedition were ordered aboard the_Bellepoule_, a council of war held, and a determined resistanceresolved upon. The decks were cleared for action, guns were mounted, and every form of princely comfort dispensed with. The son of LouisPhilippe added lustre to the name of Bourbon by the heroic decisionthat, whatever the fortune of battle might be, he would sink his shiprather than allow the remains of the Emperor to fall into the handsof the British again. The resolve was worthy of Napoleon himself. 

Every precaution was taken to evade capture, but as the informationproved to be unfounded, the expedition was not interrupted by hostilecruisers, nor even by contrary winds, and long before it was expectedthe historic frigate sailed quietly into the harbour of Cherbourg at5. 0 a. M. On November 30, 1840. She had made the passage from St. Helena in forty-two days. Then the great and unexampled triumphcommenced. 

Europe was a second time in mourning, bowing its head in reverence andshame. Never have there been such universal tokens of condemnation ofthe captivity and the creatures who engineered it, and never suchunequalled joy and homage as were paid to the memory of the greatdead. During the eight days the lying-in-state lasted, more than twohundred thousand people came to the Invalides daily. Thousands nevergot within the coveted grounds, yet they came in increasing numberseach successive day, notwithstanding the rigour of the biting weather. 

It may be said that the whole world was moved with the desire to showsympathy with this unsurpassed national devotion and worldwiderepentance. His remains are now in the church of the Invalides, wherethe daily pilgrimage still goes on. The interest in the victim of thestupidity of the British Administration never flags. Each day the deadEmperor is canonised, and his prophetic words that posterity would dohim justice are being amply fulfilled. 

The Christian Kings that made saintly war on Napoleon, and combined tocommit an atrocious crime in the name of the founder of our faith, were dead. God in His mercy had dispensed with their sagaciousguidance in human affairs, and it may be they were paying a lingeringpenalty for the diabolical act at the very time their prisoner's ashesreached the shores of his beloved country and convulsed it withirrepressible joy. They and many of their accomplices were gone. FourPopes had reigned and passed on to their last long sleep. The Spanishnation, which contributed to his downfall, had been smitten with theplague of chronic revolution. They had been deprived of the greatguiding spirit who alone could administer that wholesome disciplinewhich was so necessary to keep the turbulent spirits in restraint. Only Bernadotte, whom Napoleon had put in the way of becoming King ofNorway and Sweden, remained to represent the galaxy of Kings. A few ofthe traitor Marshals were left, but Augereau had died soon after thebanishment and Berthier had committed suicide a few day before theBattle of Waterloo by jumping out a window. Soult, Oudinot, and theguilty Marmont were in evidence in these days of great nationalrejoicing. Davoust, Jourdan, Macdonald, and Masséna had passed behindthe veil. It was the defection of Berthier and Marmont, whom heregarded as his most trusted and loyal comrades-in-arms, that crushedthe Emperor at the time of the first abdication. It was a cruel stab, which sunk deep into his soul, and never really healed, but the mostheartless incident in connection with this betrayal was theappointment of Marmont, the betrayer, by the Emperor Francis to be themilitary instructor of Napoleon's son while he was held in captivityand ignorance at Vienna. 

Fouché, whose treason and predatory misdeeds should have had him shotlong before the dawn of disaster to the Empire came, joined theMinistry of Louis XVIII. , whom he had arduously assisted to thethrone, but in 1816 he was included in the decree against themurderers of Louis XVI. , and had to make himself scarce. He went toPrague, then to Trieste, and died there in 1820. 

Talleyrand died at Paris in 1838. 

Both men were unscrupulous intriguers, without an atom of moral senseor loyalty, and both possessed ability, differing in kind, perhaps, which they used in the accomplishment of their own ends. France cannever overestimate the great evil these two men did to the nationalcause. Napoleon's power and penetrating vision kept them in check onlywhen he could grasp the nettle. Even when absent on his campaigns, they knew he was kept in close touch with what was going on. It wasnot until treason became entangled within treason that their evildesigns had fuller scope and more disastrous results. Bourrienne, another rascal already referred to in this book, lost his fortune andhis reason in 1830, and died in a lunatic asylum at Caen of apoplexyin February, 1834. It is a notable fact that nearly the whole of theprominent figures in the drama of the Empire and its fall had passedbeyond the portal before the great captain's remains were brought backto France. These individuals are only remembered now as uninspiredsmall men, benighted in mind, who had wrought ignobly to bring aboutthe fall of a powerful leader, and to the end of their days wereassociated with and encouraged a fiendish persecution of the Emperorwhile he lived, and of his family before and after his death. 

But the pious care of his tomb by a regiment of British soldiers, paidfor by British taxpayers, from 1821 until the patriotic exhumation in1840; by stately and solemn permission of the British Government, excels the comic genius of a gang of plethoric parochial innkeepers. If it were not so degrading to the national pride of race, we mightregard it as taking rank amongst the drollest incidents of human life. What a gang of puffy, mildewed creatures were at the head Britishaffairs in those days! Indeed, they expose the human soul at itsworst, and a curious feature is their ingrained belief in theintegrity of all their doings, which beggars the English vocabularydescribe. How the people tolerated the drain on human life and thematerial resources of country is also phenomenal. 

Thousands of lives were sacrificed and millions of money squandered, with the sole object of destroying and humiliating one man, who, hadhe been handled discreetly, would have proved greater public assetthan he was. Sir Hudson Lowe would not be known to posterity but forthe guilty part he played in the tragedy. He left St. Helena on July25, 1821, and was presented on the eve of his departure with anaddress from the inhabitants. It has been said that document wasinspired from Plantation House, but that is scarcely credible. Besides, we are not inclined to discount any credit Lowe and hisfriends and accomplices can derive from it. It does not glow withdevotion nor regret at his resigning his command. Indeed, it isnothing more nor less than a cold, polite way of bidding him farewell. Forsyth makes much of this, with the object of proving his popularitywith the islanders and the itinerant persons in the service of theCrown. He only makes his case worse by embarking on so hopeless atask. As a matter of fact, this extraordinary representative of theBritish Government had roused the whole population of St. Helena atone time and another to a pitch of passion and scorn that puts itbeyond doubt that no genuine regret could have been consistentlyexpressed by a single soul, except those few composing his staff, whowere as guilty as himself and were always ready to lick his boots fora grain of favour; and yet it is quite certain, notwithstanding theheroic fooleries and the care to make Plantation House a sanctuary ofguilty secrecy, there was nothing that transpired, either important orunimportant, concerning the inhabitants of Longwood, that was notpromptly passed along. Needless to say, these communications relievedthe dull monotony of the exiles, and even Gourgaud was driven tocynical mockery by the ridiculous character of some of the piteousstories that filtered through. There never was any difficulty inverifying the truth of them when it was thought necessary or useful todo so. On the authority of Lowe's biographer, we are told that thisimmortal High Commissioner was presented to his precious sovereign onNovember 14, 1821, and was on the point of kissing his hand, but HisMajesty, overwhelmed with the preeminence of the great man who stoodbefore him, indicated that there was to be no kissing of hands. Hisservices to his King and country demanded a good shake of the hand andhearty congratulations from His Christian Majesty. Lowe's arduous andexemplary task was admitted with tears in the kingly eyes, and soovercome was His Majesty that he took Lowe's hand again, and shook ita second time, combining with the handshake a further flow of gratefulthanks and the appointment to a colonelcy of the 93rd Regiment Thesecompliments were well deserved, coming, as they did from a monarchwhose will he had discharged with such brutal fidelity. But what ofthe afterthought, the reaction which began to hum round his earsalmost immediately after this fulsome display of enthusiasticapprobation? A vast public, never in favour of the Government'svaunted policy of heroism over an unfortunate foe, swung round with avengeance. The indignation against the perpetrators of this cruelassassination had no bounds. It was not confined to Britain. Thecivilised world was shocked. The willing tool of the Government gotthe worst of it, and the perfidy will cling to his name throughouteternity. 

O'Meara's book, "A Voice from St. Helena; or, Napoleon in Exile, "published in 1822, sold like wildfire. In vain Bathurst, Castlereagh, and Liverpool tried to check the flood of public censure that pouredin upon them from everywhere. Sir Hudson Lowe, beside himself withapprehension, appealed to them for protection, but none wasforthcoming. Indeed, they were too busy searching out some means bywhich the blow could be eased off themselves, and with studiouspoliteness left their accomplice to plan out his defence as best hecould; and the world knows what a sorry job he made of it. Hiscoadjutors in the great tragedy were not the kind of people to shareany part of the public censure that could be reflected on to theirgaoler. Pretty compliments had been paid to him by the King and someof his Ministers previous to the realisation of the full force ofpublic indignation. Bathurst sent him a letter in 1823 reminding himthat his treatment had been beyond that of ordinary governors, that hewas working out an idea of having him recommended to a West Indiangovernorship, and that he was not to suppose that this graciousinterest in him was in order to silence the clamour that was beingraised against him. This communication was made in November, and inDecember Lowe was told that he was to go to Antigua as Governor. Forspecial reasons this favour was refused, and two years afterwards heaccepted command of the forces at Ceylon, and was still there when SirWalter Scott's exculpation of the British Government appeared in 1828. Scott was employed for that special purpose. 

The ex-Governor searched the pages of this extraordinary work for avindication of himself, but never a word that could be construed intoreal approval was there. He obtained leave of absence from theGovernor of Ceylon and made his way to England, ostensibly tovindicate his character. He landed at St. Helena, paid a visit toLongwood, otherwise known as the "Abode of Darkness" since theImperial tenant named it so when he gave O'Meara his benediction onthe occasion of his last parting from him, when he was banished fromthe island. Sir Hudson was shocked at seeing the place reverted backto a worse state than it was previous to the exiles being forced intoit. Then it was a dirty, unwholesome barn, overrun with vermin; now itwas worse than a piggery. The aspect touched a tender chord in thisman who had been the cause of making the Emperor's compulsory sojourna sorrowful agony. 

Reflections of all that happened during those five memorable yearsmust have crowded in upon him and racked him with feelings of bitterremorse for his avoidable part in the cruel drama; and as he stoodupon the spot that had been made famous by England's voluntarycaptive, it was not unnatural that he should have been overcome by astrange and possibly a purifying sadness. All of that which he hadregarded in other days, under different conditions, as unjustifiablesplendour had vanished. The Imperial bedroom and study were now madeuse of to accommodate and give shelter to cows, horses, and pigs. Other agricultural commodities were strewn about everywhere. Nothingwas left that would indicate that it was consecrated to fame andeverlasting pity. The triumph of death came to it only some six yearsbefore. And now Sir Hudson Lowe, we doubt not, filled with pensiveregret, looked down on the nameless tomb of the great captain, guardedby sentinels with fixed bayonets, ready to thrust them into anyunauthorised intruder into the sacred precincts of the Valley ofNapoleon, or the Geranium Valley, which is also known by the name ofPunch Bowl. 

Ah! what thickly gathering memories must have come to him in thatsolemn hour on that smitten rock of bitter and brutal vengeance! Allwe shall ever know of that melancholy visit as it really affected Lowehas been told by his biographer. We are left to imagine a good deal, and therefore must conclude that he would be less than human if he didnot realise that the shadow of retribution was pursuing him. If histhoughts of himself were otherwise, he was soon to be disillusioned. 

He spent three days on the Rock, and had a good reception andsend-off, and ere long made his appearance in London and presentedhimself to his quasi-friend, Bathurst, who, with an eye to his own andhis colleagues' interests, discouraged the idea of publishing ananswer to Sir Walter Scott's book. Bathurst, in fact (with unconsciousdrollery), advised Lowe to hurry back to Ceylon without delay, lestmeanwhile a vacancy of the governorship should occur and he might losehis opportunity. He was assured of the Government's appreciation ofhim as their most trusted and loyal public servant, while as a matterof fact it was ludicrously obvious that his presence was quite asobjectionable to them in England as it was to the exiles in St. Helena. He was fully alive to, and did not underestimate, the amountof dirty work he had done for them, and very properly expected to beamply rewarded. It never occurred to him that retribution wasover-shadowing them as well as himself, and that they could not openlyavow their displeasure at the odium he was the cause of bringing onthe Government and on the British name by reason of his having sorigidly carried out their perfidious regulations. Had public opinionsupported them, their action would have been claimed as a sagaciouspolicy, but it didn't, so this poor, wretched, tactless, incompetenttool became almost as much their aversion as the great prisonerhimself. In fact, things went so ill with them that they would havepreferred it had Lowe indulged every whim of his prisoner, granted himfull liberty to roam wherever he liked, recognised him as Emperor, andeven been not too zealous in preventing his escape; and they must havewished that, in the first instance, they had not thought of St. Helena, but wisely and generously granted him hospitality in our ownland. This last would have been the best thing that could havehappened for everybody concerned. 

Ill-treatment of the most humble prisoner or assassination of the mostexalted can never be popular with the British people. Sir Hudson got acold douche when he obtained an interview with the Duke ofWellington. His Grace in so many words told him that they wished tohave nothing to do with him. He could not recommend him for a post inthe Russian army. He could not hold out hopes of him getting thegovernorship of Ceylon should a vacancy occur. He had been hardlyused, but there was no help for it. Parliament would not grant him thepension he asked for. Lowe replied that he would stand or fall by itsdecision, but the Duke snapped him off by stating that Mr. Peel wouldnever make such a proposal to the House of Commons. No other coursewas open to him now but to return to Ceylon. He did not get thevacancy which occurred in 1830, and returned to England, but never gota public appointment again. 

He presented a wordy memorial in 1843, complaining of having been keptout of employment for twelve years. The governorship of Ceylon hadbeen vacant three times, the Ionian Islands four times; he had beenGovernor there in 1812. In other parts of the Empire appointments thathe supposed he could have filled were given to others. Poor creature!He died in 1844, a broken and ruined man. 

He lacked every quality that is essential in an administrator, and wasutterly void of humour, imagination, or the capacity to manage men. His suspicious disposition and lack of judgment made it eminentlyimpossible for him to fulfil any delicate position, and it was amonstrous libel on the knowledge of the fitness of things to entrusthim with the governorship of St. Helena. 

Lord Teynham made a violent attack on Lowe in the House of Lords in1833. The Duke of Wellington was bound to defend his satellite, anddid so with some vigour, as the attack was really on him and certainmembers of his Government. Lord Teynham replies with equal vigour: "Hehad no intention of aspersing the private character of Sir Hudson, butas regards his conduct while Governor of St. Helena, he maintained, and always would, that Lowe was cried out upon by all the people ofEurope as a person unfit to be trusted with power. " Lord Teynham a fewdays afterwards made a sort of apology, no doubt inspired byinterested persons, for personal plus international reasons. They werehigh of heart, these dauntless confederates, in the early and middlestages of the captivity, and, indeed, they bore themselves withbraggart defiance of public opinion, until many strong manifestationsof inevitable trouble encompassed them, and, like all despots, who areinvariably cowards, they lived in mortal terror lest this creature oftheirs should break out into St. Helena leprosy again and imposefurther humiliation upon them. Lowe had talked of actions for libelagainst Barry O'Meara, and in a whimsical, half-hearted way worriedhis employers to give battle, and the law officers of the Crown stateda case but advised against taking action, and so it was never brought, though O'Meara kept telling them in so many words to come on. "I amanxious that you should have the opportunity of defending the chargesI have brought against you. I am anxious too that the public shouldknow more than I have written. " That in effect was the attitude of thegallant doctor, who was the first to call serious attention to thegoings on in the "Abode of Darkness. " Needless to say, no action wasever taken, and, in face of all the incriminating facts, it was neverintended that any should be taken. Even High Toryism became alarmed atthe consequences. The Duke of Wellington, brave and gallant soldierthough he was, shrank from so impossible an ordeal. The best he couldsay of him was, "He was a stupid man, " "A bad choice, " "and totallyunfit to take charge of Bonaparte. "

Wellington may have been a brave and skilful general, but he did notknow how to be generous to an unfortunate enemy who was himself alwayskind and considerate in the hour of victory. Wellington's expressionsabout Lowe are more than significant, though his conduct towards thepoor cat's-paw is characteristic of a mean, flinty soul. But hisbehaviour towards Napoleon would have put any French Jacobin to theblush, and has belittled him for all time in the eyes of everybody whohas a spark of human feeling in him. 

Meneval[22] says that Waterloo was won by the French in the middle ofthe day of that fateful battle, but a caprice of fortune--the arrivalof Bulow's corps and Blucher's army, and the absence of Grouchy'scorps--snatched from Napoleon's hands the triumph which was within hisgrasp. Wellington had even said to General Hill, who came to take hisorders at the most critical moment of the battle: "I have no orders togive you. There is nothing left for us but to die here. Our retreat iseven cut off behind us. "

Wellington's despairing words have been handed down in various forms. Notably he is reported to have said, "Oh! for night or Blücher. " Whenhe heard the firing, "That is old Blücher at last!" &c. That he was ina tight place there is little doubt, and many authorities have statedthat had Grouchy come up according to orders, the allied forces wouldhave been cut to pieces. 

Whether it was "caprice of fortune" or not, Wellington claimed to havewon the battle. "Caprice of fortune" had nothing to do with it. Itwas a hard-fought battle. Treachery and desertion at an importantjuncture undoubtedly weakened the chances of French success. Menevaladds that "in no encounter of such importance did the French armydisplay more heroism and more resolution than at the Battle ofWaterloo. " Napoleon at St. Helena attributed his defeat to a varietyof circumstances: to treachery, and to his orders not being carriedout as they should have been by some of his generals, and oftenconcludes: "It must have been Fate, for I ought to have succeeded. " Hewas accustomed to say that "One must never ask of Fortune more thanshe can grant, " and possibly he erred in this. 

Though nearly a century has passed since the catastrophe to France, the cause of it is still controversial. It is certain that the conductof Marshal Soult, who was second in command, gave reason forsuspicion. An old corporal told the Emperor that he was to "be assuredthat Soult was betraying him. " General Vandamme was reported to havegone over to the enemy. It was also reported to the Emperor by adragoon that General Henin was exhorting the soldiers of his corps togo over to the Allies, and while this was going on the General hadboth legs blown away by a cannon shot. Lieutenants, colonels, staffofficers, and, it is said, officers who were bearing despatchesdeserted, but it is significant that there is not a single instancegiven of the common soldier forsaking his great chief's cause. LordWolseley declares that if Napoleon had been the man he was atAusterlitz, he would have won the Battle of Waterloo. Wolseley issupported in this view by many writers. 

After Lutzen, Bautzen, and Dresden, Byron said that "bar epilepsy andthe elements, he would back Napoleon against the field. " It is wellknown the odds he had to battle with, including the vilest treacherywithin his own circle. 

Marshal Grouchy's conduct will always remain doubtful, even to themost friendly critics. High treason bubbling up everywhere must havehad a dulling effect on the mind of the great genius, though hebattled with the increasing vigour of it with amazing courage. He sawthe current was running too strong for him to stem unless hedetermined to again risk the flow of rivers of blood. This he shrankfrom, and abdicated the throne a second time. And then the barbarous, crimeful story began. 

Sir Hudson Lowe's appointment was a national calamity, but he was thenominee of Wellington's coadjutors, and carried out their wishes witha criminal exactitude, and they should have stood by him in his diredistress, instead of which they allowed him to die in poverty, brokenin spirit, and a victim to calumny which they ought to have been manlyenough to share. 

Whatever may be said in exculpation of them and him, _they_ wereundoubtedly too seriously involved to enter upon a fight that wouldhave ended disastrously for all of them, and so, with unusual wisdom, they never got further than threats. 

Sir Hudson was dead something like nine years before Forsyth burstupon the public with his eccentric vindication of the unamiable andunfortunate ex-Governor. The zealous biographer's research formaterial favourable to his deified hero caused him to ransack printsthat were written by unfriendly authors and vindictive critics of thegreat captive. Even the State Papers, the most unreliable of alldocuments on this particular subject, were used to prove the goodnessof Sir Hudson, and when quotations were unavailing, the authorproceeded to concoct the most amazing ideas in support of the task hehad set himself to prove. 

Writers of anti-Napoleonic history who take in the St. Helena periodare filled with wonder and contempt of the Emperor, who, according totheir refined and accurate judgment of the fitness of things, shouldhave been eternally grateful to the British Government that they didnot have him shot. Why should he complain in the fretful way he doesof his treatment and his condition? A great man would have shown hisappreciation of all the money that was being spent on the needs forhis existence and for the better security of his person. It illbecomes him to complain of improper treatment after all the troubleand commotion he has caused at one time and another. Indeed, a greatman would bear the burden of captivity with equanimity and praise themen who gave him the opportunity of showing how a great soldier couldcarry himself in such unequalled adversity. 

This in effect is what these high-minded men of letters say shouldhave been the attitude of England's guest. He should have received histreatment, harsh and arbitrary though it was, with Christianfortitude, and ought to have borne in mind that he was in the custodyof a Christian King and a Christian people. Dr. Max Lenz, who haswritten a most interesting and on the whole moderate account ofNapoleon, considering his nationality, drifts into the samestereotyped closing phraseology of how Napoleon worried and almostwore out the good Sir Hudson Lowe, who only did his duty, and gave into Napoleon whenever he could see his way to do so. 

But on the authority of Gourgaud, whom Lord Rosebery would appear toregard as the most truthful of all the St. Helena chroniclers, thiseulogy is totally unwarranted, for truly there is no reliablecontemporary writer who would have risked his reputation by making soreckless a statement that could so easily be proved to be a deliberatefabrication. This is not to say that fabrication was an uncommontrick, but the Governor's reputation in relation to Napoleon was sowell and widely known, that no person who claimed to have a clear, balanced judgment could defend his silly, vicious conduct. 

Napoleon never altered his opinion of Lowe's perfidy towards him. Onone occasion, in conversation with the truthful Gourgaud, he exclaims, "Ah! I know the English. You may be sure that the sentinels stationedround this house have orders from the Governor to kill me. They willpretend to give me a thrust with a bayonet by mistake some day. "Gourgaud reports him as saying on another occasion, "Hudson Lowe is aSicilian grafted on a Prussian; they must have chosen him to make medie under his charge by inches. It would have been more generous tohave shot me at once. "

It would be absurd to affirm that Napoleon said these things withoutsound foundation, and although, when his personal vanity and abnormaljealousy was aroused by some fancied injury to himself, Gourgaudwould resort to the most remarkable fibbing, what he relates as to hismaster's opinion of the Governor may be relied on, being, as it is, confirmed in a more complete form by O'Meara, Las Cases, Montholon, Bertrand, Antommarchi, and each of the Commissioners. The formersacrificed everything rather than be a party to what he termedtreatment that was an "outrage on decency. "

These are only a few of the men who bear witness against Sir Hudsonbeing termed "good"; and I may add one other to the galaxy, poor Dr. Stokoe, who shrank from having the abominable indignity of inquisitorand spy tacked on to his high office and distinguished profession. Herefused, as O'Meara had done, to sacrifice his manhood or his sense ofhonour. Tricked into a false position by Lowe and the virtuous (?) SirRobert Plampin, Dr. Stokoe, who had only paid five professional visitsto Longwood, was deprived of his position and all its advantages, after twenty-five years' service in the Navy, because he refused tobecome a sneak and a rascal at the bidding of these two unspeakableGovernment officials, the one disgracing the service of his country inthe capacity of Governor and the other the name of a sailor and anAdmiral. 

In 1819 Stokoe resigned his position on the _Conqueror_, and sailedfor England. Lowe sent a report addressed to the Lords of theAdmiralty by the same vessel, and Stokoe had scarcely landed when hewas bundled back to St. Helena. He rejoined the _Conqueror_ under theimpression that his conduct had been approved, but was disillusionedby being forthwith put under arrest. A bogus court-martial wasinstituted in the interests of Lowe, and Plampin and these packedscallywags sentenced him to dismissal from the Navy. The chargesagainst Stokoe were that he failed to report himself to Plampin at theBriars after a visit to Longwood, and that in his report he haddesignated the patient as the Emperor instead of General Bonaparte. This is a sample of the "good old times" that a certain species ofcreature delights to show forth his wisdom in talking about. I believethe immortal John Ruskin indulged occasionally in reminding atwentieth-century world of these days that were so blissful. 

Forsyth, the self-reputed impartial historian, neglects to insert inhis work in defence of Lowe's conduct the following amazing charges, which shall be fully given. They have been published before, but theyare so unique, so unmanly, and so perfidious, I think they ought to begiven to the public again, so that the amiable reader may know thedepth of infamy to which England had sunk in the early part of thenineteenth century. Here is the whole story on which Dr. Stokoe wascondemned. His bulletin about Napoleon's health asserted that "Themore alarming symptom is that which was experienced in the night ofthe 16th instant, a recurrence of which may soon prove fatal, particularly if medical attendance is not at hand. " The Governor andthe worthy Admiral were incensed at such unheard-of arrogance inmaking a report not in accordance with their wishes and that of theGovernment and the oligarchy, so the indictment of Stokoe, based onthis bulletin, proceeds: "Intending thereby, contrary to the characterand duty of a British officer, to create a false impression or beliefthat General Bonaparte was in imminent or considerable danger, andthat no medical assistance was at hand, he, the said Mr. John Stokoe, not having witnessed any such symptom, and knowing that the state ofthe patient was so little urgent that he was at Longwood four hoursbefore he was admitted to see him, and further, knowing that Dr. Verling was at hand, ready to attend if required in any such emergencyor considerable danger. He had knowingly and willingly designatedGeneral Bonaparte in the said bulletin in a manner different from thatin which he was designated in the Act of Parliament for the bettercustody of his person, and contrary to the practice of His Majesty'sGovernment, of the Lieutenant-General Governor of the island, and ofthe said Rear Admiral, and he had done so at the especial instance andrequest of the said General Bonaparte or his attendants, though he, Mr. John Stokoe, well knew that the mode of designation was a point indispute between the said General Bonaparte and Lieutenant-General SirHudson Lowe and the British Government, and that by acceding to thewish of the said General Bonaparte he, the said Mr. John Stokoe, wasacting in opposition to the wish and practice of his own superiorofficers, and to the respect which he owed them under the generalprinted instructions. " The very idea of any grown man being expectedto have "respect" for superior officers who had no more sense ofjustice, dignity, or self-respect than to produce such a blatantdocument for the supreme purpose of covering up a sample of mingledfolly and rascality, and ruining a poor man who was at theirill-conditioned mercy!

Indeed, we need no further justification for Napoleon's statements asto what the official intention was towards him. Without a doubt Dr. Max Lenz is too reckless in his generosity towards Lowe, for hisactions from beginning to end of his career prove that he was adreadful creature. The thought of him and of those incarnate spiderswho kept spinning their web, and for six mortal years disgracinghumanity, is in truth enough to unsettle one's reason. Vainly they hadransacked creation in search of persons in authority to support themin the plea of justification, but never a soul came forth to sharewhat is now regarded as ingrained criminality. 

Perhaps the virulent treatment of Byron ranks with the meanest andmost impotent actions of the militant oligarchists because of hisshocking (?) sympathy with England's enemy. The fierce thoughexquisite weaver of rhymes, who had been the idol of the nation andthe drawing-room, was sought after by the highest and most cultured inthe land. Byron had fallen a victim to public displeasure partlybecause he gave way to excesses that shocked the orthodoxy of acapricious public. He had reached a pinnacle of fame such as no man ofhis years had ever attained, and suddenly without warning he fell, avictim to unparalleled vituperation. His faults, if the meagreaccounts that have been handed down are true, were great, but many ofthem were merely human. His marriage was not compatible, and his loveentanglements embarrassing. His temper and habits were very similar tothose of other geniuses, and great allowances should be made forpersonalities whose mental arrangements may be such as to nullifynormal control. 

It is all very well to say that these men should be compelled toadhere to a conventional law because ordinary mortals are expected todo so, but a man like Byron was not ordinary. In his particular linehe was a great force with a brain that took spasmodic twists. It isabsurd to expect that a being whose genius produced "Childe Harold"and "Manfred" could be fashioned into living a quite commonplacedomestic life. Miss Milbanke, who married him, and the public whofirst blessed and then cursed and made him an outcast, were notfaultless. Had they been possessed of the superiority they piouslyassumed, they would have seen how impossible it was for this eccentricman of stormy passions to be controlled and overridden byconventionality. 

It is possible the serene critic may take exception to this form ofreasoning and produce examples of genius, such as Wordsworth, wholived a strictly pious life, never offending any moral law by ahairbreadth; but Wordsworth was not made like Byron; he had not thepersonality of the poor wayward cripple who at one time had broughtthe world to his feet, neither had Wordsworth to fight against suchwild hereditary complications as Byron. Wordsworth never caught thepublic imagination, while Byron had the power of inflaming it. But, alas! neither his magnetic force nor his haughty spirit could stem thewhirlwind of hatred, rage, and calumny that took possession of thevirtuous and capricious public. The story of cruelty to his wife grewin its enormity, his reported liaisons multiplied beyond all humanreason. The bleached, white hearts of the oligarchal party had beenlashed into fury by his withering ridicule and charge of hypocrisy, but the climax came like a tornado when the poet's sense of fair playcaused him to satirise the Prince Regent and eulogise the EmperorNapoleon with unique pathos and passion. 

This was high treason! He had at last put himself beyond the mercy ofthe chosen people. They had twaddled and stormed about his immorality, but his praise of Napoleon sent them into diabolic frenzy. He wasproclaimed an outlaw and hounded out of the country. The beautiful andrich Lady Jersey, a leader of society, convinced that he wasmisunderstood and was being treated with unreasonable severity, defended him with all the strength of her resolute character, butmalignity had sunk too deep even for her power and influence to avertthe disaster. So intense was the feeling engendered against him thatit became dangerous for him to drive out without risking an exhibitionof virulent hostility. Had he merely abused the Prince Regent, it isimprobable that any exception would have been taken to it; but topraise and show compassion for the Man of the French Revolution, whohad fought for a new condition of things which threatened the fabricon which their order held its dominating and despotic sway, was anenormity they were persuaded even God in heaven could not tolerate;why then, should _they_ be expected to do so?--they were only human. Both public and private resentment ran amok, and thus it was that theimmortal poet's belauding of the immortal Emperor became linked to theignominy of being accused of gross immorality. The reaction againstthis eccentric being was a fanaticism. There was neither sense norreason in it, and as he said, "If what they say of me be true, then Iam not fit for England; but if it be false, then England is not fitfor me"; and with this thought thrilling in his mind he left hisnative land, never more to see it. 

Caught without a doubt by the spirit of the great man whose eulogy hadgiven such offence in certain quarters, he embarked on the crusade ofemancipating the Greeks, was stricken with fever, and died atMissolonghi. 

Adhering to human tradition, the nation which had so recently casthim out became afflicted with grief. Men and women cast reflection onthemselves for their misguided judgment of him, and he became a god inmemory again, his wife being a singular exception in the greatdemonstration of national penitence. The incomparable poet had sinnedgrievously, if rumour may be relied upon, but he was made to sufferout of all proportion to his sinning. His faults were only differentfrom other men's. It may be said quite truly that one of his defectswas in having been born a genius, and allowing himself to be idolisedby a public whose opinions and friendships were shifty. Second, heerred in disregarding and satirising puritanical conventionalisms. Thirdly, and probably the most provocative of all, was his defiance ofthe fiery patriotism of some of the ruling classes in lauding him whomthey stigmatised as the enemy of the human race and lampooning theprecious Prince Regent. His extraordinary talents did not shield him, any more than they did the hero of fifty pitched battles whosegreatness he had extolled. 

FOOTNOTES:

[22] Vol. Iii. Pp. 451-2. 

CHAPTER V

MESDAMES DE STAËL AND DE REMUSAT

It is a strange human frailty that cannot stand for long the purgatoryof seeing the elevation of a great public benefactor. The lesscompetent the critics, the more merciless they are in theirdeclamation and intrigue. They hint at faults, and if this is tooineffective, they invent them. Men in prominent public positionsrarely escape the vituperation of the professional scandalmonger. These creatures exist everywhere. Their vanity is only equal to theirincompetency in all matters that count. Their capacity consists inknowing the kind of diversion a certain class of people relish, andthe more exalted their prey is, and the larger the reputation he mayhave for living a blameless life, the more persistent theirwhisperings, significant nods, and winkings become. They know, andthey could tell, a thing or two which would paralyse belief. Theycould show how correct they have been in consistently proclaimingthat so and so was a very much overestimated man, and never ought tohave been put into such a high position; "and besides, I don't want tosay all I know, but his depravity! Well, there, I could, if I would, open some people's eyes, but I don't want to do anybody any harm, " andso on. These condescending ulcerous-minded defamers congratulatethemselves on their goodness of heart in withholding from the publicgaze their nasty imaginary accusations, which are merely the thoughtsof a conceited and putrid mind. 

Many and many a poor man, without knowing it, is the innocent victimof unfounded accusations, hatched and circulated in that subtle, insinuating way so familiar to the sexless calumniator. The genuinefemale traducer is an awful scourge, especially if she be political. No male can equal her in refined aggressive cunning. She can circulatea filthy libel by writing a virtuous letter, and never a flaw willappear to trip her into responsibility for it. And her sardonic smileis an inarticulate revelation of all she wishes to convey. It is morethan a mere oration. It emits the impression of a bite. 

Madame de Staël showed an aptitude for this ignoble aggressivenesstowards Napoleon after she had exhausted every form of strategy toallure him into a flirtation with her. She was frequently a sort ofmagnificent horse-marine who bounced herself into the presence ofprominent individuals, thrusting her venomed points on those who hadbeen flattered into listening; at other times she was feline in hermethods. Talleyrand and Fouché made use of this latter phase of hercharacter to serve their own ends. She had a talent which was used formischief, but her vulgarity and egotism were quite deplorable. Shewould have risked the torments of Hades if she could but have embarkedupon a liaison with Napoleon. She plied him with letters well seasonedwith passion, but all to no purpose. She came to see him at the RueChantereine, and was sent away. She invited him to balls to which henever went. But she had opportunities given her which were used inforcing herself upon his attention. At one of these she held him fortwo hours, and imagining she had made a great impression, she askedhim abruptly, "Who was the most superior woman in antiquity, and whois so at the present day?" Napoleon had had enough of her love-makingchatter, so snapped out in his quick practical way, "She who has bornethe most children. " The lady's discomfiture may be imagined. It was adeadly thrust. 

This very same lady, who had tempted the ruler of France withoutsuccess, made violent love to Benjamin Constant, who was no friend ofNapoleon's at the time. Her letters to him were passionate, andNapoleon told Gourgaud at St. Helena that she even threatened to killher son if Benjamin would do what she wished him to. This fussy femaleintriguer suggested to Napoleon that if he would give her two millionfrancs she would write anything he wished. She was immediately packedabout her business. 

Madame de Staël was not an important personage at all, but she had thepower of attracting people to her who, like herself, had grievances tobe discussed, and we may without doubt conclude that these gatheringswere composed of well-selected intriguers whom she had fixed in herfeline eye. Her great grievance was the First Consul's, andsubsequently the Emperor's, coldness towards her. He estimated her ather true value. He treated her with the courtesy due to a Frenchcitizen, but nothing more, and when she misbehaved in his presence, herebuked her with due consideration for her sex. When she caused peopleto talk to him of her, he merely shrugged his shoulders as was hishabit, and smiled disdainfully; though occasionally he could notresist the temptation of ridiculing her comic pretensions. But thishuman curiosity had power for mischief. 

She was not only an intriguer, but, subsequent to her failure inlove-making, she developed a literary tyrannicide. She condescended topatronise the head of the State by causing it to be conveyed to himthat her hostility would cease under certain well-defined conditions. When he became the real Governor of France, Napoleon put a stop toreligious persecution, and put the churches into use. Here-established religion, and by doing so brought under his influenceone hundred million Catholics. This wise policy created strongopposition from a section of the clergy. Madame de Staël and thefriends whom she had whipped up, many of them being the principalgenerals, were mischievously opposed to it, and brought pressure tobear so that he might be induced to establish the Protestant religion. Napoleon ignored them all. He knew he was on the right ground, andthat the nation as a whole was with him. France was essentially aRoman Catholic country, and the head of it gave back to her peoplewhat was regarded as the true faith. The exile frequently referred tothese matters in conversation with one or other of his followers. Napoleon's disdain for Madame de Staël was well merited, and he neversaw or heard of her that it did not set his nerves on edge. She wasthe "death on man" sort of female who persisted in being, eitherdirectly or indirectly, his political adviser. Dr. Max Lenz accusesthe Emperor of developing a despotism that caused him to drive a womanlike Madame de Staël from land to land, "and trampled under foot everymanifestation of independence. "

Really, the good doctor lays himself open to the charge of not makinghimself better informed of the doings of this sinister person, who wassteeped in treason, and who refused to accept the laws of life withproper submission. It is merely farcical to assume that Madame deStaël was kept well under discipline because of a whimsical despotismon the part of the man who had fixed a settled government on France, and who was kept well informed of the attempts of the Baroness and heranarchist associates to undermine and destroy the Constitution it hadcost France and its ruler so much to reconstruct and consolidate. "Lether be judged as a man, " said Napoleon, and in truth he was right indeciding in this way, as her whole attitude aped the masculine. He wasright, too, in showing how wholly objectionable she had made herselfto him. He had been led to adopt a sort of "For God's sake, what doesshe want?" idea of her during the early years of his rule, though henever at any time showed weakness in his actual dealings with her. Hedisliked women who asserted themselves as men, and he disliked theamorous offspring of Necker more because he loathed women who threwthemselves into the arms of men; she had surfeited him with herpersistent attempts at making love to him. In one of her letters tohim she says it was evidently an egregious error, an entiremisunderstanding of human nature, that the quiet and timid Josephinehad bound up her fate with that of a tempestuous temper like his. Sheand Napoleon seemed born for each other, and it appeared as if naturehad only gifted her with so enthusiastic a disposition in order toenable her to admire such a hero as he was. Napoleon in his fury torethis precious letter up and exclaimed, "This manufacturer ofsentiments dares to compare herself with Josephine!"

The letters were not answered, though this had no deterrent effect onMadame de Staël. She continued to pour out in profusion adoration. Hewas "a god who had descended on earth. " She addressed him as such, andhis callous reception of her madness drove her into despair andvindictiveness which brought salutary punishment to herself. Herweapons of wit and sarcasm availed nothing. He looked upon her as asort of gifted lunatic that had got the idea of seducing him into herhead. She became so mischievous that he bundled her out of France. "As long as I live, " said he, "she shall not return. " He advised thatshe should live in Berlin, Vienna, Milan, or London, the latter forpreference. There she would have full scope for her genius inproducing pamphlets. "Oh yes, " says the "god who had descended onearth"; "she has talent, much talent, in fact far too much, but it isoffensive and revolutionary. " This poetess-politician, who said bravethings and wrote amazing diatribes against her "god, " was in truth oneof the most servile creatures on earth. She pleaded to be allowed tocome back to her native land, and pledged herself to a life ofretirement, but the great man's faith in his own sound judgment wasnot to be shaken. 

"Her promises are all very fine, " he said, "but I know what they mean. Why should she be so anxious to be in the immediate reach of tyranny?"

Like all eccentric women who desire to play the part of man, she madeher appearance before Napoleon in the most absurd, tasteless attire. This woman of genius and folly lacked the wisdom of gauging the tasteof Bonaparte, whom she desired to captivate with her sluttishappearance and whirling words. 

This man of method and order, who had a keen eye for grace or beautyin its varied phases, was always pronounced in his opinion that womenshould dress simply but with faultless taste. It improves good looks, and, if need be, it covers up defects; but in any case it is thebounden duty of women to dress with some regard to conventionalcustom. It gives them much greater influence than they would otherwisehave. Most women know the importance of this trick, and do it, andthey are amply rewarded for their good sense. 

Madame de Staël did quite the opposite. She appeared before the Man ofDestiny in a shocking garb, and he regarded it as a piece ofimpertinence. It stirred up his prejudice openly against her, in spiteof his indifferent attempts to conceal it, but her egotism was sogigantic, she actually believed she was making great strides towardscuring his callousness towards her. This woman has been usedelaborately by anti-Napoleonic writers to prove that he was an inhumandespot and she a high-minded, virtuous Frenchwoman, and a genius inthe art of government. They quote her as a great authority. Herknowledge of his evil deeds and mistakes of administration is setforth as being flawless. They bemoan his treatment of this amiablefemale, and in the midst of their ecstasy of compassion and wrath theyhand down to posterity a record of unheard-of woes. There is littledoubt Napoleon's remark that "the Neckers were an odd lot, alwayscomforting themselves in mutual admiration, " is well merited. Thedaughter utilised the name of the father with lavish persistence. Herambition and impudence were boundless, and were the cause of Napoleonbestowing some wholesome discipline upon her, which, like a trueheroine, she resented, and sent forth from her exile streams ofrelentless wailing, adorned by a fluency of venom that would have putthe most militant suffragette in our time to the blush. 

But suddenly her hysteria subsided, and after a brief repose sheswitched off the truculent side and sought the pity of the man whoselife she had set herself to make one long ache if he did not yield toher arrogant pretensions. She had written in a perpetual scream of hisiniquities, and was thrown over by her former associates, who sawclearly enough that no real good could be accomplished by whiningabout cruelty when stern flawless justice only existed. Theyrecognised that she was a personality, but her antics puzzled them, and well they might. She bewailed her isolation with a throbbingheart, and after committing indiscretions that Robespierre would havesent her head flying for, she was suddenly bereaved of her neglectedhusband. This event gave Benjamin Constant a better chance, but theBaroness aimed at higher game. She was held in the grip of a delusionthat she had it in her power to hypnotise the First Consul and causehim to become her lover. She had an uncontrollable idolatry for thisaugust person, whom she hoped to win over by writing for theconsumption of his enemies the many reasons for her aversion to him. Without a doubt the woman was madly in love with the object of hersupposed aversion, and was driven to frenzy by his obvious distastefor her. 

In 1811 she secretly married a young officer called M. De Rocca, whohad fallen desperately in love with her. He was amiable and brilliant;became an officer of Hussars in the French Army; did valiant deedsamongst the hills in Andalusia in 1809; and was awarded the Cross ofthe Legion of Honour. Subsequently he was shot down by guerillas, badly wounded in the thigh, foot, and chest; had a romanticdeliverance; was hidden in a chapel by a young lady, and nursed intoconsciousness and convalescence by loving care, which enabled him toreach Madrid, and ultimately Geneva, where, in the radiance ofyouthful infatuation, he rode with reckless energy down a risky steeppart of the city, so that he might pass the window of the lady, whowas more than old enough to be his mother, and in a few months was tobe made his wife. A child was born to them in 1812, and in order tosave its legitimacy, she acknowledged the marriage to a few, but itwas not generally known until after her death that Rocca was herlawful husband. Conscious, and sensitive no doubt, that it was notquite natural for old women to marry young men, she prudently had theevent kept secret. The young husband did not only possess tenderaffection for her, but he combined chivalrous ambitions which made theromance additionally attractive. 

Be it remembered that Benjamin Constant was a former lover of Madamede Staël. The young bridegroom, following a natural instinct, had agreat dislike to Benjamin, and took an opportunity of really smallprovocation to challenge him to a duel, which, owing to wisercounsels, was never fought. There does not seem to have been very muchto fight a duel about. Constant had a quarrel with his father in whichhe involved Madame de Staël, and Rocca resented it like a gallantyouthful husband, who was at that stage when it is thought desirableto shoot or otherwise kill somebody, in order to show the extent ofhis devotion to his enchantress. Rocca had hoped to die (so he said)before her, but fate willed that he should linger on and suffer forsix months more. Madame de Staël slept peacefully into her last longsleep on July 14, 1817. 

Her career was chequered and restless. She had influence, which sheused oft-times recklessly, and led less gifted people than herselfinto committing needless errors. She wrote and spoke with a wit andsarcasm which charmed all but those at whom it was directed. Herbitter rebuffs and severe trials were mainly of her own making. Forthe most part she wrote with superficial feeling and without realsoul. During the Napoleonic regime, time was a creeping horror to her, but she found pleasure in the thought that it was a torture to hersuffering heart. George Eliot knew and used her extraordinary power;Madame de Staël wasted hers. Nevertheless she had many friends wholoved her society. Wellington was brought under her influence. Byron, who shrank from her at first, says, "She was the best creature in theworld. " She had been at some pains to try to bring Lord and Lady Byrontogether. She was capable of impressing people with her charm, butmagnetic influence she had none when living, and has left none behind. 

Rocca exclaimed, when he heard that she had passed to the shadows, "What crown could replace that which I have lost!" And the distractedBenjamin Constant, filled with remorse, reproached himself for someundefined suffering he had caused her, and did penance all nightthrough in the death-chamber of his divine Juliet. 

This crazy woman seems to have been capricious in everything. She madeand broke liaisons with amazing rapidity while undergoing a compulsorysojourn at Coppet. She formed there an attachment for the son of aperson named M. Baranti, which very nearly cheated Rocca from becomingher husband, and the faithless Benjamin Constant from being, erroneously perhaps, associated with her name as the author of themanuscript of St. Helen, and she the notoriety of writing "Ten Yearsof Exile, " which was published after her death. 

The youthful Baranti found no scope for his talents at Coppet, andbeing offered an inducement to go to the metropolis so that he mighthave larger opportunities of advancement, he abandoned the famousauthoress, and she, in loving despair, was seized with the impulse toimmortalise his severance by attempting suicide, and thereby endingher passion for liaisons, virulence, and fame. The attempt, presumablyfeeble, left her long years of mischievous mania for attack on thesupposed author of all her woes. She readily found amongst his enemies(and thus the enemies of France) those who yearned with her in thehope she freely and openly expressed that her native land shouldsuffer defeats, and in this her desire was fully acquiesced in by thecombination of hysterical and purblind Kings, aided by a coterie ofirreconcilables, who welcomed the destruction of their fatherland inorder that the man who had made it the glory and the envy of the worldshould be driven from it. Many of these creatures were members of thesame Senate who, a few years previously, sent Napoleon a ferventaddress couched in grovelling language, imploring him to cement thehold his personality had on the national life. The following is whatthey say, and what they ask him to do:--"You have brought us out ofthe chaos of the past, you have made us bless the benefits of thepresent. Great man, complete your work, and make it as immortal asyour glory!"

The authors of this whining appeal are worthy to be associated withthe traitorous daughter of Jacques Necker, Minister of Finance toLouis XVI. , and of those apoplectic monarchs who sought her guilty andinflammatory aid. 

Then we come to another female celebrity, though less notable thanMadame de Staël, who is regarded by the traducers of Napoleon as ahistorian because she wrote in her memoirs that which they wished theworld to think of him, and because they flattered themselves that itexculpated them from the charge of injustice and mere hatred. Madamede Staël's book, "Considérations sur la Révolution Française, " madeits appearance. Its violent characteristics inflamed Charles deRemusat to urge his mother to enter into competition with this work, the result being the production of Madame de Remusat's memoirs, editedby her grandson, M. Paul de Remusat. Charles (her son) had reproachedher for having destroyed memoirs she had written previously, [23] butlurking in her mind was the thought of all the favours she and herfamily had received, and her correspondence, teeming with adulationfor the man whom she was now induced to declaim against. The knowledgethat she was about to expose her perfidy "worried" her, and she wroteto Charles thus:--"If it should happen that some day my son were topublish all this, what would people think of me?" and the son, obviously influenced by the mother's fears, delayed until the fall ofthe Second Empire the publication of one of the most unreliable andbarefaced calumnies ever produced against a great benefactor. 

In her memoirs she says that she and her husband excited general envyby the high position the First Consul had given them. She was firstLady in Waiting, and subsequently Lady of the Household, her husbandbeing "attached to Napoleon's household. " She says that she was wittyand of a refined mind, and though she was less "good-looking" than hercompanions, she had the advantage of being able to "charm his mind, "and she was almost the only woman with whom he condescended toconverse. She relates residing in the camp at Boulogne "and havingbreakfast and dinner daily with Bonaparte. " In the evenings they usedto "discuss philosophy, literature, and art, or listen to the FirstConsul relating about the years of his youth and early achievements. "

No doubt the young Madame de Remusat became assured in the same way asMadame de Staël that she would one day be raised to heights of gloryunequalled in history, and the disappointment embittered her. Sheadmits that she "suffered on account of blighted hopes and deceivedaffections and the failure of her calculations. " Moreover, Josephinehad an eye on the lady whose husband in evil times sought herinfluence with Napoleon to stretch out a helping hand and save themfrom the poverty by which they were beset. Napoleon's big heartspontaneously responded to the appeal of his fascinating spouse, theresult being that favours were heaped upon M. De Remusat and his wifefrom time to time, and Josephine's goodness was repaid by seeingMadame in feline fashion purring at her Imperial master's affections, and on the authority of Madame de Remusat she "becomes cold andjealous. " Finding that Napoleon did not appreciate her love-making, she, like Madame de Staël under similar circumstances, took tointriguing, which got her quickly into disgrace. She is anxious tomake her fall as light as possible in the public eye, so relates thathe told her that "his desire was to make her a great lady, but hecould not be expected to do this unless she showed devotion. " But inspite of the wife's defection, as is always Napoleon's way, he doesnot visit her sins on the husband, but raises him to the importantposts of Grand Master of the Robes, High Chamberlain, and thenSuperintendent of Theatres, and in addition gave him large sums tokeep up his status, and notwithstanding Josephine's cause for "coldjealousy, " Madame de Remusat was generously kept in her service afterMarie Louise had become Empress. M. De Remusat remained in theEmperor's service until the fall of the Empire, and then went over toLouis XVIII. Both of these sycophants were content to accept thefavours of the Imperial couple and eat their bread and cringe at theirfeet while they plotted with the plotters for the Emperor's downfall. 

Unhappily for the veracity and probity of Madame Remusat as a historywriter, her letters containing notes jotted down day by day as theyoccurred have been published, and the memoirs put side by side withthese throbbings of the heart reveal an incomparable baseness thatmakes one wonder at the reckless, blind partisanship which induced herdescendants to give the memoirs to an intelligent public. 

In the memoirs she says:--"Nothing is so base as his soul; it isclosed against all generous impulses, and possesses no true grandeur. I noticed that he always failed to understand and to admire a nobleaction;" and again she goes on to say that "In war he foresaw themeans of calling away our attention from the reflections which, sooneror later, his government could not fail to suggest to us, and hereserved it in order to dazzle, or at least to enforce silence on us. Bonaparte felt that he would be infallibly lost the day when hisenforced inactivity enabled us to think both of him and of ourselves. ""What a relief whenever the Emperor went away! His absence alwaysseemed to bring solace. People breathed more freely. "

Now this would have been all very well. It was the stereotypedphraseology of Napoleon's avowed enemies. He knew it, and viewed itwith contempt and derision, and until Madame de Remusat and hersnuffling, cringing husband became swollen with over-indulgence andsmitten with wounded pride, they regarded language such as now appearsin her memoirs as mere froth. She practically says that she held thesame views in 1818 as she did from 1802 to 1808, but when she wrotethis she no doubt relied on her correspondence being kept snuglyprivate or destroyed; but it has been published, and here are someamazing extracts from it:--

"I often think, my dear, of that Empire, the territory of whichextends to Antwerp! Consider what a man he must be who can rule itsingle-handed, and what few instances history offers like him!"[24]"Whilst he creates, so to speak, new nations in his progress, peoplemust be struck, from one end of Europe to the other, by the remarkablyprosperous state of France. Her Navy, formed in two years, after aruinous revolution, and assuming at last a menacing attitude after solong, excited the scoffs of a shortsighted enemy. "

"When again I reflect on the peace we enjoy, our wise and _moderateliberty_, which is quite sufficient for me, the glory my country iscovered with, the pomp and even the magnificence surrounding us, andin which I delight, because it is proof that success has crowned ourefforts; when, in short, I consider that all this prosperity is thework of _one man_, I am filled with admiration and gratitude. "[25]

"What I write here, my dear, is, of course, strictly betweenourselves, for many people would be anxious to ascribe to thesefeelings some other cause than that which really inspires them;besides, it seems to me that we are less eager to express the praisesthat come from the heart than those that proceed from the mind. "[26]

"Thank goodness, I am at last happy and contented!! What a pleasure itis to see the Emperor again, and how much that pleasure will be felthere! This splendid campaign, this glorious peace, this prompt return, all is really marvellous. "[27]

"Like woman, the French are rather impatient and exacting; it is truethat the Emperor has spoilt us in the campaign; indeed, no lover wasever more anxious to gratify the wishes of his mistress than HisMajesty to meet our desires. You demand a prompt march? Very well, thearmy that was at Boulogne will find itself, three weeks later, inGermany. You ask for the capture of a town? Here is the surrender ofUlm. You are not satisfied!! You are craving for more victories? Herethey are: Here is Vienna which you wanted, and also a pitched battle, in order that no kind of success may be wanting. Add to these a wholeseries of noble and generous deeds, of words full of grandeur andkindness, and always to the purpose, so much so that our hearts sharealso that glory, and can join it to all the national pride it arousesin us. "[28]

"I used to cry bitterly at that time, for I felt so affected that, hadI met the Emperor at the moment, I should, I believe, have thrown myarms round his neck, although I should, afterwards, have beencompelled to fall on my knees and ask pardon for my conduct. "[29]

So overcome with boundless admiration is she that her soul yearns forthe gift of being able to do him full justice by writing a history, apanegyric, a book, in fact, that would show him to be immeasurablyabove all men living or dead. She fears that people cannot see hisnobility and greatness as she does. She is bewildered and acclaims hima god. Here is another outburst of passionate devotion:--

"That undaunted courage, carried even to rashness, and which wasalways crowned with success, that calm assurance in the midst ofdanger, with that wise foresight and that prompt resolution, arousealways new feelings of admiration which it seems can never besurpassed. "[30]

It will be seen her letters shape well for the fulfilment of the greatambition of her life, _i. E. _, to picture him as he was. The writing isgood, the description picturesque, and I believe the impartial mindwill also regard it as accurate. She believes "that even persons whoare hardest to please must be compelled to admit that he is a mostamiable sovereign. " She is smitten with the feeling of gratitude, andsays it is so sweet that she really regards it as another favour. Shewishes her husband could "often secure some of those comforting smilesfrom the master, " and tells him he is "no fool to be fond of thosesmiles, " and promises to congratulate him if he secures some. 

She asks God to watch over him (such will always be her prayer) whenhe is fighting and conquering. Her heart is grieved when he is at agreat distance from them. She eulogises his great qualities to herson, and advises him "to study all that she was able to tell him ofthe Emperor, and write about it when he grew up, " and the boyexclaimed, "Mother, what you have told me sounds like one ofPlutarch's lives!"

But there comes a time when Napoleon sees that the price he has to payfor adulation is too high, for, like most over-pampered people, Madamede Remusat seems to have got the idea of equality badly into her head. She became waspish, exacting, claiming more than her share ofemoluments, seeking for attentions which her "amiable sovereign" sawin the fitness of things it would be folly to bestow. She mistookwholesome justice for tyranny, defied discipline, and not onlyconnived at treason, but prayed for the extinction of him against whomit was directed. Disaster overtook him, he fell, and in her deliriumof malice and joy she bethought it an opportune moment to write whatare known as her memoirs, refuting therein all her former eulogies andopinions so vividly told in the "Letters of Madame de Remusat. " Nowthat adversity so terrible overshadows the matchless hero of theletters, she throws every scruple aside, and warms to her task inwriting unstinted, gross, and manifest libels. Contrast with the"letters" these quotations from the memoirs. She avows that "nothingis so base as his soul. It is closed against all generous impulses; henever could admire a noble action. " "He possesses an innate depravityof nature, and has a special taste for evil. " "His absence broughtsolace, and made people breathe freely. " "He is devoid of every kindof personal courage, and generous impulses are foreign to him. " "Heput a feeling of restraint into everybody that approached him. " "Hewas feared everywhere. " "He delighted to excite fear. " "He did notlike to make people comfortable. " "He was afraid of the leastfamiliarity. " This latter grievance, combined of course with the rest, is quite significant, and we are justified in assuming that the Ladyin Waiting has been taking liberties, and has been deservedly snubbedby His Imperial Majesty. It is perhaps necessary to pause here andremind the reader that on the authority of her son, and subsequentlyof her grandson, these memoirs were written entirely "without malice, "and the sole object of writing them at all was that "the truth shouldbe told. "

Very well then. Are we to believe the letters or the memoirs, becausein the former she over and over again declares that "his comelymanners were irresistible"; but in the memoirs with audaciousbitterness she affirms "not only is he ill-mannered but brutal. "

Such effrontery is beyond criticism. She finds it "impossible todepict the disinterested loyalty with which she longed for the King'sreturn, " and describes the hero of her letters as a ruthless destroyerof all worth, and being brought so low, she is straitened by thedemands of "truth" and "grows quite disheartened. "

It will be observed that it is always truth which is the abidingmotive, it matters not whether it is letters or memoirs. She avows itis "truth" she writes. "The love of truth, " says the editor in hispreface, "gave her courage to persevere in her task for more than twoyears. " That is, it took her more than two years to write the "truths"contained in the memoirs disavowing the "truths" so vehemently givenin the letters; the former book pregnant with the bitterness of awriter without heart and principle, and with political and personalmotives running through its pages like a canker, while the latter, radiant in luxuriant adulation, gapes at her memory with retributivejustice. 

The renegade son served the renegade and ungrateful mother ill when headvised her to write what is a barefaced recantation of her formerstatements. Napoleon has said that "People are rarely drawn to you byfavours conferred upon them. " He had many examples of this truth, butnone more striking than the above. Madame de Remusat and her husbandwere raised from poverty to affluence by Napoleon, and the memory ofall the favours that were showered upon them by the man she declaresshe loved should have kept them from hate and disloyalty, andforbidden the writing of such unworthy vituperations against him. 

FOOTNOTES:

[23] Madame de Remusat burnt her original memoirs during the HundredDays, doubtless because she had in her mind the probability thatNapoleon might firmly establish himself on the throne, and thediscovery of anti-Napoleon MSS. Might have acted seriously againstherself and family being appointed to important positions. Moreover, the greater danger of getting herself into trouble was constantly inher mind. 

[24] "Letters of Madame de Remusat, " vol. I. P. 195. 

[25] "Letters of Madame de Remusat, " vol. I. P, 196. 

[26] Ibid. , vol. I. P. 160. 

[27] Ibid. , vol. Ii. P. 2. 

[28] "Letters of Madame de Remusat, " vol. I. P. 190. 

[29] Ibid. , vol. I. P. 393. 

[30] "Letters of Madame de Remusat, " vol. Ii. P. 45. 

CHAPTER VI

JOSEPHINE

One of the phenomena of human affairs is the part destined forJosephine, daughter of M. Joseph Gaspard Tascher de la Pagerie, sugar-planter at Martinique, and friend of the Marquis de Beauharnais, whose son Alexandre was fated to marry her when she was but sixteenyears of age. The marriage took place on December 13, 1779, atNoisy-le-Grand. The pompous young bridegroom speaks of his young bridein appreciative terms in a letter to his father, and in order that hisparent may not be disappointed as to her beauty, he explains that inthis respect she may not be up to his expectations. He regards thepleasure of being with her as very sweet, and forms the resolution ofputting her through a course of education, as this had been grievouslyneglected. 

The father of Alexandre is said to have been charmed with thesweetness of Josephine's character, but then he was not her husband, and it soon became apparent that the union was ill-assorted, and so itcame to pass that marital relations were entirely broken off after thebirth of Hortense, subsequently dressmaker's apprentice, Queen ofHolland, and mother of Napoleon III. Alexandre had gone to Martinique, and it was there the news of his daughter's birth came to him. He knewbefore leaving France that his wife was enceinte, and expressed hispleasure to her. The Marquis Beauharnais had assured his friend, Joseph Tascher de la Pagerie, that his "son was worthy of being hisson-in-law, and that Nature had endowed him with fine and noblequalities. " These virtues seem to have been dissolved with remarkablerapidity after his marriage, as it was well known before his departureon the voyage to Martinique that he had been diligently unfaithful tothe poor "uneducated" little Creole girl who really thought she lovedhim. From all accounts, and I have read many, Alexandre Beauharnaiswas an ill-conditioned cruel prig. This excellent son with "fine andnoble qualities" had not been long at Martinique before he associatedhimself with a lady of questionable virtue, who was much older thanhe. This person's dislike to Josephine caused her to pour into hiswilling ears and receptive mind scandalous stories of his childwife'slove intrigues before she left her native island. This gave Alexandrea fine opportunity of writing a letter to her, disclaiming thepaternity of Hortense, and accusing her of intrigues with "an officerin the Martinique regiment, and another man who sailed in a shipcalled the _Cæsar_. " He declares he knows the contents of her lettersto her lovers, and "swears by the Heaven which enlightens him that thechild is another's, and that strange blood flows in its veins, " and"it shall never know his shame"; and so the virtuous Alexandre goesrambling on, until he comes to the slashing finish in the good oldstyle that persons similarly situated adopt to those whom they havegrievously injured. He soars between elegant politeness and old-timearistocratic ferocity: "Goodbye, madam, this is the last letter youwill receive from your desperate and unhappy husband. " Then comes theinevitable postscript, with an avenging bite embodying the spirit ofmurder. He is to be in France soon if his health does not break downunder the load she has cast upon him. He warns her to be out of thehouse on his arrival, because, if she is not, "she will find in him atyrant. " The whole letter is indicative of a low-down unworthy scamp, a mere collection of transparent verbiage, intended as a means ofridding himself of a woman he had nothing in common with, and a coverto his own unfaithfulness. 

But whatever may be the interpretation of his motives, on his comingback to Paris he kept his word. Conjugal relations were not renewed. His family were indignant at the treatment Josephine was receiving atthe hands of this pompous libertine, and he assures her that of "thetwo, she is not the one to be most pitied. "

M. Masson declares that there was never a reconciliation, and thatthey lived apart, but met in society, and spoke to one another, mainlyabout their children's education. Josephine caused him to withdrawbefore her lawyer the gross and unfounded charges he had made againsther and to agree to a satisfactory allowance. 

Alexandre, finding soldiering distasteful, embarked upon a politicalcareer as an aristocrat Liberal. His rise to position was swift, andafter the death of Mirabeau he followed him as President of theAssembly. Before his fall came, he was appointed Commander-in-Chief ofthe Army of the Rhine, and at the head of sixty thousand men failed torelieve Mayence and resigned his command. 

His Liberal pretensions did not prevent him being included amongst theproscribed. He was made captive, accused of attempting to escape, condemned to death and guillotined. Josephine's device of reassuringthe Revolutionists of her conversion to Republicanism by apprenticingHortense to a dressmaker and Eugene to a carpenter did not avail. Shewas suspected and sent to Les Carmes, where frequent conversationstook place between her philosophic and abandoned husband and herself, mainly concerning their children's education, and had not the reactionagainst the regime of blood brought about the fall of Robespierre, shewould assuredly have shared the fate of Alexandre; and had the cry of"A bas le tyrant" been heard a few days earlier, Beauharnais wouldhave escaped too, and cheated Josephine of becoming Empress of theFrench and Queen of Italy. As it was, some of the very same people whobut a short time before had harangued the mob to "Behold the friend ofthe people, the great defender of liberty, " switched their murderousvengeance on to their late idol, and ere many hours the widowBeauharnais was set free. The thought of the appalling end and thebrevity of time that seemed left to her impressed Josephine with allits ghastly horror. She had shrieked and wept herself into a deathlikeillness. The doctor predicted that she could not survive more than aweek, and for this reason she escaped being brought before theTribunal. 

A wondrous Providence this, which, with frantic speed, broke thepower of a hideous monster, and thereby saved the woman who was toenter upon a new era, and to be borne swiftly on to share the glory ofan unequalled Empire. 

M. Masson's theory is that Josephine's womanly grief had much to dowith awakening the sentiment of Paris, and breaking the Reign ofTerror; and, indeed, there is some reason in this view, for tears arenot only useful as an indication of sorrow, suffering, or conquest, but an effective means of gaining sympathy. Josephine was an adept attrying the efficacy of weeping, and if M. Masson has gauged theinfluence of melting the heart of the spirit of massacre aright, thenJosephine was gifted with, and made the instrument of, a divineinstinct that should claim attention and reverence for all time, eventhough her subsequent misdeeds occasionally incline us to avert theeye. 

But it is likely that the sombre satire of the pure and beautifulJeanne-Marie Philipon touched the heart of Paris more than theshedding of tears and shrieking lamentations. The wife of Roland, ledto the scaffold, faced with the stern certainty of death, asks withcalm dignity for pen, ink, and paper, "so that she might write thestrange thoughts that were rising in her. " The request was notgranted. Then looking at the statue of Liberty, she exclaimed withfierce dignity, "O Liberty! What things are done in thy name!" andthese throbbing magical words reverberated through France withwonderful effect. The guilty populace, shuddering with superstitiousawe at the revolting horrors committed in the name of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, flashed a thought on the scaffold ofthe stainless victim, then on the loathsome prisons that were filledwith suspects, rich and poor, all over France. Then, in time, thedooming to death of some of the prominent polecats who committedmurder in the name of liberty and fraternity brought Robespierreism toan end. Robespierre himself was cursed on the scaffold by a woman whosent him to "hell with the curses of all wives and mothers, " andSamson did the rest. And it may be logically assumed that the partingwords of Jeanne-Marie Philipon at the foot of the scaffold inoculatedthe public mind, not only with the horrors that were being committedin the name of Liberty, but what things were cantishly being said inits name. I like to think of the stainless lady's inspired phraserather than Josephine's tears as being in some degree responsible forthe end of the Reign of Terror. 

After her release, Josephine's shattered health was a cause ofanxiety, but this was soon re-established, and she quickly put heremotions aside and plunged into gaiety with an alacrity that makesone wonder whether she had more than spasmodic regret at the awfuldoom that had come to her husband, who left a somewhat penitent letterbehind, wherein he speaks of his brotherly affection for her, bids her"goodbye, " exhorts her "to be the consoler of those whom she knows heloves, " and "by her care to prolong his life in their hearts. ""Goodbye, " says he; "for the last time in my life I press you and mychildren to my breast. "

These posthumous reflections and instructions did not impress thewidow with any apparent interest. The picture recorded of their tragicmarried life is not sweet. Neither lived up to the great essentialswhich assure happiness. 

Before her imprisonment the gossip-mongers were whispering roundrumours of violent flirtations, and even when she was in Les Carmesthey said that she and her fellow-prisoner, General Hoche, were toofamiliar, and coupled the name of the ex-Count with that of a younglady suspect. The truth of such accusations seems highly improbable, and they may well be regarded as malicious slander. It is not unlikelythat Josephine was on friendly terms with the General before they metin Les Carmes, but that it was more than friendship is a merehypothesis. Her relation with that unspeakable libertine Barras wasespecially unfortunate. No doubt she was driven to extremities afterher release. Her fate was as hard as it is possible to conceive. Shewas without the proper means of sustenance for herself and her family, and appears to have lost no time in really becoming the chosen friendof a creature who took advantage of her and then betrayed her to theworld. It is he who tells in his memoirs the sad and sickening storyof his connection with Josephine, and gloats over the opportunity itgives him of repeating conversations he had with General Hoche as toher love entanglements. He declares that she was "the patient mistressof Hoche in the sight of the whole world. "

The editor of the memoirs to some extent tones down the brutalstatements of the author. But a man who publicly exposes the relationshe has had with a fascinating woman who gives herself to him may notbe readily believed when he deliberately involves his own friends inthe liaisons. There is no question of what his part was in thedegradation of Josephine, but the luxury of dragging other names intothe moral quagmire, in order, it may be, to justify his own dealingsand to further debase her, could only be undertaken by a person soakedwith the venom of indecency, and, in this case, had no other objectthan that of gratifying his malice against her husband. Hisassumption of moral superiority is quite entertaining when he, theseducer and corrupter, speaks of the unfortunate woman's"libertinism, " and calls her in his bitterness "a licentious Creole. "

This representative of the Republic one and indivisible, embodyingLiberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, at the end of the eighteenthcentury, will forever disgrace the judgment and moral condition of theFrance which knew Charlemagne. 

"Citizen" Barras repudiates the story of Eugene asking theCommander-in-Chief for his beheaded father's sword. He claims thatNapoleon himself invented the story. But it is highly improbable thatNapoleon would risk at the beginning of his career having his veracitydoubted. In itself, the incident is a small matter. The only realinterest attached to it is the touching pathos of the small boy askingfor and receiving the sword, which, of course, gave his mother theopportunity of calling to thank the General for his goodness, and inthis way it has historic importance, as Napoleon and Josephine weremarried four months after, _i. E. _, March 9, 1796, her age beingthirty-two and his twenty-five. 

The quibble is that of a small man searching in every pond for mud tothrow at his master's memory. Napoleon gave the facts to BarryO'Meara at St. Helena, and they also appear in the "Memorial de St. Helena. " Had the introduction of these two remarkable people not comeabout in this way, it would have been brought about in some other. But, whether the story has any interest further than the writer hasstated or not, it is safer to believe Napoleon than Barras, whoboasted after the success of Napoleon in Italy that it was he who hadperceived in him a genius and urged the Directory to appoint himCommander-in-Chief. Carnot is indignant at this impudent falsehood, and declares that it was he and not Barras who nominated and urged theappointment of Bonaparte. Certainly Carnot's story is the acceptedone. It matters little who the selected spokesman of the inspirationwas. France needed a man, and he was found. 

On the eve of this obscure and neglected young soldier's departure tospread the blessings of Fraternity in Italy, the voluptuous Barras wascommissioned by him to announce to the Directory his marriage withCitizeness Tascher Beauharnais. Then began a period of devouring loveand war such as the world has never beheld. In the midst of strife andstrenuous responsibility, this young missionary, representing thesolacing new doctrine of symbolic brotherhood, neither shirks norforgets the responsibilities of his instructions to lay Italy at hisfeet. 

Nor does he for a moment forget his wedded obligations. He is in love, nay, desperately in love. The image of Josephine is constantly soaringaround him, and he pours forth ebullitions of frantic devotion at thecannon's mouth, in the Canton, anywhere, and everywhere. He is as richin phrase as he is in courage and resource. He finds time to scrawl afew burning words of passion which indicate that his soul is at onceaflame with thoughts of her and the grim military task he hasundertaken. 

He leads to battle flashing with the spirit of assured victory andinspired by the belief that it has been written that he is the chosenforce which is to regenerate misgoverned nationalities. Order out ofchaos; moderation in the hour of victory; no interference with anyone's religious belief; stern discipline--these were some of thebehests of this young Titan, whose startling and victorious campaignswere amazing an astonished world and causing significant apprehensionin the minds of the Directory, who decided to check the swift processof ascendancy by giving instructions that he was to give over thecommand of Lombardy to General Kellerman, and go south to commenceraiding other parts of Italy, including Rome and Naples. 

To this he promptly sends a vigorous though respectful reply, whichis intended to convey that they are to have done with such impracticalfoolery. It is a world-shaking fight he has on hand. The honour andmilitary glory of France are at stake. It is not for mere theoreticupholders of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity to meddle with suchthings. He says to them, "Kellerman is an excellent General, and couldlead an army as well as I, " but then he goes on to plead thesuperiority of his army, always modestly leaving himself outside thepraise he takes care to bestow on others, and adds with fervour, "Thecommand must remain in the hands of one man. " "I believe, " says he, "that one bad General is better than two good ones. " "The art of war, like the art of government, is a matter of careful handling. " Thenwith delicious frankness he flashes out: "I cannot allow myself tohave my feet entangled. " "A free hand or resignation. " That is hisultimatum. This thunderbolt of bewildering audacity sent a flutterthrough the sanctuary of Fraternity, and in hot haste a message ofconfidence, coupled with an order that he shall be left in supremecontrol, was dispatched by a vigilant energetic courier. The Directorywere made to see that a great power had arisen which would holddominion over them. 

And yet this young and terrible conqueror, who judiciously dominatedevery will in the process of his achievements, he who defiantly toldhis masters that he would not suffer his "feet to be entangled" bytheir amateurish absurdities, was entangled for a time by a rapturousinfatuation and allowed a giddy woman with seductive habits and asilken voice to cajole, dominate, ridicule, and ignore him. Hisimploring theatrical appeals to her to come to him are piteouslypathetic. The rational parts of his letters are without example inneat concise phrase, and portray a man possessed of great humanvirtues. It is when the love-storm attacks him that he flies intoextravagances, such as when he writes that "she has more than robbedhim of his soul, " and that "she is devouring his blood. " He writes tohis brother Joseph that he loves her to madness, and to Carnot even hedoes the same thing. Perhaps the most extravagant outburst of all iswhen he begs that she is to let him see some of her faults, and to beless kind, gracious, and beautiful. "Your tears drive away my reasonand scorch my blood. " "You set my poor heart ablaze. " He complains ofher letters being "cold as friendship, " and adds, "But oh! how I aminfatuated. "

Josephine has never been addressed in such consuming language before. She is flattered, and her little head becomes swollen with the ideaof greatness. The ridiculous endearments amuse her. She must notallow such opportunities of creating envy to pass, so she shows theletters as they come along to her most intimate friends, amongst whomBarras still continues high on the list, and with an air of dizzypride she playfully says Bonaparte is "very droll. " And really, Josephine was right. Some of his letters are "droll, " but they aregenuine, and this highly honoured woman, launched into prominence andposition, and reaping the laurels of his work disgraced her womanhoodby showing his letters, and doubly disgraced herself by ridiculingthem. 

It was not until Murat, Junot, and Joseph Bonaparte were sent byNapoleon to Paris from the seat of war with important dispatches, andalso with letters to her, that it dawned upon her that she had carriedher unwillingness to join her husband far enough. Doubtless thegallant commissioners had given her a hint that further refusal meantinevitable reprisals. It is quite feasible that the rollicking Junot, who was always prepared to give his soul for Bonaparte, was frankenough to intimate that there was a risk of driving her husband intothe arms of some covetous female, many of whom were angling in thehope of capturing the brilliant and rising General, and that alreadyhe was showing signs of jealousy and suspicion of her good faith. 

News of fresh victories was coming in, fêtes were held in honour ofthem, crowds of people congregated, and at the sight of her leaning onthe arm of Junot after leaving the Luxembourg they shout, "Long liveGeneral Bonaparte! Long live Citizeness Bonaparte!" She is enthralledby the adulation which reflected glory showers upon her. Her spiritrebels against leaving all its pleasures and pomps. But she hasexhausted every canon of truth in excuses, even that of beingpregnant, and finds herself inevitably driven to abandon the seat ofjoy and easy morals and set off for Milan with her dog "Fortune" andEugene, her son. Tears flow copiously at the thought of her wrongs, but these are dried up with the compensating opportunity of commencinga flirtation with Murat, who is soon to become the husband of CarolineBonaparte. 

The popular opinion was that it was Junot who was the object of herdesigns, but the future Duchess d'Abrantès scornfully repudiates this, and declares that Junot's devotion to his beloved General forbade himreciprocating his wife's indiscretion, so he made love to LouiseCompoint, Josephine's waiting-maid, instead, the result being thatLouise was requested to leave the service of the offended Josephine. 

On arrival at Milan, Napoleon was absent, so the honour of receivingher was deputed to the Milanese Due de Serbelloni, who took her inregal style to stay at his palace. On Napoleon meeting his wife forthe first time since their marriage his joy was unbounded. Marmont, who betrayed him and France in later days, says that "at that time helived only for his wife, and never had purer, truer, or more exclusivelove taken possession of the heart of a man, and that a man of sosuperior an order. "

Napoleon had still much work to do, and many hard battles to fight, sothat they were frequently separated during the remaining months beforehe had freed Italy and beaten the Austrians. On no occasion when hewas absent from her did he neglect sending letters on fire with theassurance of unabated love, but they frequently indicate not only aconviction of her indifference, but a suspicion that it is more, whichis promptly nullified by further explosions such as "kisses as burningas my heart and as pure as you. " Poor Napoleon! he is soon to bedisillusioned. She is the same old Josephine in Italy as she was inParis. He pleads with her to send him letters, for she must "know howdear they are to him. " "I do not live, " he tells her, "when I am farfrom you. " "My life's happiness is in the society of my sweetJosephine. " Again he writes, "A thousand kisses as fiery as my soul, as chaste as yourself! I have just summoned the courier; he tells methat he crossed over to your house, and that you told him you had nocommands. Fie! Naughty, undutiful, cruel, tyrannous, jolly littlemonster. You laugh at my threats, at my infatuation; ah! you well knowthat if I could shut you up in my heart I would put you in prisonthere!" This playful, gloomy, humorous, and tender quotation does notemanate from the heart of a monster, but from an unequalled lovesicksoul confiding the innermost secrets of his mind to an inglorioushelpmate, whose follies during the first years of their married lifewere a cruel humiliation to him. 

She courted ruin with cool dissolute persistency. She deceived, lied, and wept with the felicity of a fanatic. She sought and foundhappiness at the cost of not only self-respect, but honour and virtue. She was not a shrew, but a born coquette, without morals rather thanimmoral, and, withal, a superb enigmatic who would have made theFounder of our faith shed tears of sorrow. It is by distorting factsthat her eulogists make it appear that she was a loving and devotedwife during the early years of her second marriage. 

On her arrival at Milan from Paris she had presented to her many armyofficers, amongst whom was a young Hussar, the friend and assistantGeneral of Leclerc, who became the husband of Paulette, the giddylittle schoolgirl sister of Napoleon. Josephine, at this period of herhistory was famous for her aversion to chastity, so that it is notaltogether inexplicable that she should have sought the distinction ofmaking Hippolyte Charles her lover. He was fascinating, witty, dressedwith splendour, and was quite up to her standard of moral quality. Thefriendship grew into intimacy, so that he became a frequent visitor toJosephine during Napoleon's absence. 

It was scarcely likely that this love affair, which was assumingdramatic proportions, could be long kept from the knowledge ofNapoleon. The mocking critics of the camp and the stern moralistsamongst the civilians vied with each other in babbling commentary ofthe growing dilapidated reputation that the Commander-in-Chief's wifewas precipitately acquiring. Wherever she is or goes, so long asBonaparte is at a safe distance, Charles is hanging on to her skirts. Some writers have said that on the occasion of her visit to Genoa toattend the fêtes given by the Republic he was in attendance, and it ismost likely that this clumsy act of strategy on the part of Josephinebrought about the climax. Unquestionably her movements were beingwatched by members of the Bonaparte family. They not unnaturally feltthat the scandal was exposing them as well as their brother toridicule. 

But, as frequently happens, great events are brought about in the mostunexpected way. The vivacious Paulette had fallen in love with Freron, a man of forty, holding a high position in the Government service. Napoleon was strongly averse to the match, so decided that she shouldbecome the wife of General Leclerc, aged twenty-five, who was said tobe Napoleon's double. Hippolyte Charles had been the friend ofLeclerc, and Paulette resolutely set her mind on inflicting salutarypunishment on her sister-in-law for the wrong she was doing herbrother. She quickly managed to wriggle confidences out of Leclercconcerning the Josephine-Charles connection, then peached. Charles wasbanished from the army, and, on the authority of Madame Leclerc, welearn that Josephine "nearly died of grief. " The avenging little vixenhad put a big spoke in the wheel, although there were other powerfulagencies that had no small part in bringing light to the aching anddevout heart. 

From this dates the fall of Josephine's complete magical divinity overhim, and a new era begins. We hear no more of "shutting her up in hisheart, " or of sending her "kisses as fiery as his soul and as chasteas herself"; though to the end his letters are studiously kind andeven reverential. 

Meanwhile, the intrepid General, having brought the campaign of Italyand Austria to a successful end, came back to Paris, received theplaudits of a grateful and adoring nation, and the doubtful favour ofa jealous Directory. They banqueted him at the Luxembourg with everyoutward sign of satisfaction. Talleyrand and Barras made eloquent andflattering speeches of his accomplishments and talents, and the latterfolded him in his arms as a concluding token of affection. Josephinerevelled in the gaiety and honours that encompassed them, while herhusband sought the consolation of privacy. 

After a short though not inactive stay in Paris, he was given commandof the Army of the East, and sailed from Toulon on May 19, 1798, inthe _Orient_ (which came to a tragic end at Aboukir), and Josephinewaved her handkerchief, soaked in tears, as the fleet passed fromview. 

Her doings do not interest us until she again came across the youngex-officer Charles in Paris, some time in 1799, and, at his request nodoubt, she introduced him to a firm of army contractors, and for theostensible purpose of showing his gratitude, he called at Malmaison tothank her. This act of grace could have been done with greaterpropriety by letter, though there may have been reasons for notputting in writing anything that might associate the wife of theCommander-in-Chief with having dealings with army contractors, even tothe extent of interesting herself on behalf of a man who was dismissedthe service for carrying on an intrigue with his General's wife, whohappened to be Josephine herself. 

But putting aside the unpardonable breach of faith in allowing arenewal of the intimacy with such a man, the fact of a lady in herposition being mixed up with a firm of this character might haveseriously compromised Napoleon, and for this reason alone her act washighly reprehensible. Charles was not slow to avail himself ofJosephine's hospitality, and became a regular visitor. This furtherlapse of loyalty to the absent husband was transmitted to Egypt, andvery naturally determined him on the necessity of taking proceedingsto get a divorce, but although Napoleon had ceased, so far as hecould, to be the dreadful simpleton lover of other days, he failed togauge the grip the old fascination had of him. 

He believed the avenging spirit that guided him to definiteconclusions was real, and with the thought of "divorce, public andsensational divorce, " buzzing in his head, combined with another ofState policy lurking in the background, he set sail for France, andcreated wild excitement in domestic and Directorial circles byunexpectedly landing at Fréjus. 

He then made his way, as quickly as the enthusiasm of the cheeringpopulace allowed him, towards his house in the Rue de la Victoire; butthe penitent (?) Josephine was not there. She had gone to meet him, taken the wrong road, and missed throwing herself into his arms as washer intention. He asks excitedly, "Is she ill?" and the significantwink of her enemies threw him into paroxysms of grief. His friendCollot calls and reminds him that the hope of the nation is centred onhim. His wrath is proof that he is still in love, and Collot fearsthat the magical effect of her appearance will bring forgiveness. "Never, " shouts the irate husband. "How little you know me, Collot. Rather than abase myself, I would tear my heart out and throw it onthe fire. "

But Collot knew him better than he chose to admit he knew himself, andwe shall see that his heart was not thrown "on the fire, " but givenagain to the erring Josephine, who was travelling back post-haste fromLyons. She arrived broken in spirit and wearied unto death. Napoleon, obviously not quite sure of his determination to refuse heradmittance, had bolted the door, and was stamping about the room witha glare in his piercing eye as though he were planning an onslaughtthat was to be furiously contested. Josephine arrives, knocks at thedoor, implores him to open it, and addresses him as "Mon ami, _mon bonami_. " There is no response, and in her frenzy of despair she weepsand beats her head against the door, and piteously pleads for theopportunity of justifying herself. But still he holds out. And thenher unfailing resource suggests that Hortense and Eugene, whom heloves so well, shall be brought as the medium of compassion to theirdistracted mother. They come, and the bolts are drawn. Theirstepfather admits them to his presence. They kneel at his feet andappeal to him to continue to be the good, kind father he has everbeen, and to receive their mother back to his affections. 

It is all over now with Napoleon. He is never proof against tears, sosends for their mother, who falls into his arms and faints. She istenderly laid into his bed, saved from her woeful fate, and whenLucien Bonaparte arrived by command next morning, to take instructionsfor the impending divorce proceedings, that horror had disappearedfrom their outlook, and both Josephine and Napoleon were wrapped in adrowsy joy. 

Josephine, gifted with irresistible subtlety and skilful in the artand use of hysteria, had rekindled the embers of infatuation that wasnever more to be totally quenched. In all likelihood she would give adifferent explanation of her conduct to Napoleon than that given himby Lucien and other members of his family. It is not an undue stretchof imagination to conclude that she assured him that her heart wasshared with none other, though the assertion may be regarded as adaring fabrication. She did not gauge calmly, but she gauged well, thesupreme power she had over the man who had so abjectly shown her suchinflammable love. She knew, too, of his vanity, and hit himcaressingly on the spot. The cry of "he and none other, " combined witha beseeching wail that he should open his heart to an affectionate andfaithful love, was more likely to conquer than any admission of wrong. Could she forget the oft-repeated declaration that his rulingprinciple was that he would have no divided affection? It must be allor none. The hypothesis is therefore that she played on his vanity, and not on his confidence or judgment, the sequel being the completesurrender of Napoleon. 

Josephine, whether from fear of the penalty or the purity of hermotives, never again allowed herself to be placed in the samehazardous position. She had been cured of unfaithfulness, and promisedthat Hippolyte Charles should never be allowed to lead her into sucha scrape again. He was put out of her life, and was never more heardof. He was seen but once more by Napoleon, and the sight of his evilface nearly caused the Emperor the humiliation of a collapse. 

Josephine's matrimonial transgressions, whatever they may have been, were condoned with exuberant suddenness, and Napoleon rushed intodomestic tranquillity. The zealot of freedom forthwith concentratedhis wondrous talents with aggressive righteousness on the task ofdestroying a decadence that was bearing France to her doom. Josephinewas enrolled as patron of deliverance from anarchy, and having all theessential attributes which make for success in such an enterprise, shedaily filled her salon with men and women who had influence to aid herhusband and his friends in upsetting the Government. She had developedinto an attractive, graceful hostess, and was endowed with the knackof cajoling which disarmed opposition and enthused supporters, andunquestionably she played the part given to her with unmeasuredsuccess, and Napoleon did the rest. 

The _coup d'état_ had been dexterously planned, which enabled him tobring about a bloodless overthrow. Josephine was deployed to win overher friend Gohier, the President of the Directory. She invited himand his wife to breakfast on the 17th Brumaire. Gohier wonders whythey should be asked so early as six in the morning. He thinks hesmells a rat, excuses himself, but sends his wife, who is ushered intothe presence of a houseful of officers of the National Guard, and thehostess does not lose time in conveying to Gohier's former cook themeaning of their being there. Bonaparte, be it known, is determined toform a Government, and it grieves her that so good a friend as thePresident of Directors should have been so thoughtless of his owninterests as not to accompany his wife on such an auspicious occasion. 

"The inevitable is at hand, Madame Gohier, " says Josephine in effect, "and at this very moment Barras is being pressed to resign, and if hedisobeys his fate is sealed. " Madame Gohier is aghast, stiffens herback, and with as much dignity as her nature will allow, she bows, withdraws, and hastens to the side of her husband, to convey all shehas seen and heard. 

Meanwhile, events travel swiftly under the direction of the intrepidGeneral. He walks into the Council of Ancients and jerks out withvivid flashes of oratory the object of his visit. The members see at aglance its meaning. They become inarticulate with rage begotten offear. He thunders out, "I am here to demand a Republic founded ontrue liberty, " and swears that he will have it. In the Hall of theFive Hundred he is met with cries of "Down with the Cromwell!" "NoDictator!" "Outlaw him!" and so forth. 

But these are mere futile belchings of exasperated gasbags, on whom hedarts a look of withering scorn, which they discern means trouble ifthey do not conduct themselves with decorum. His guards are close athand, and he is daring enough to make use of them if there is anyresistance to that which he has undertaken. To the Directory, throughtheir envoy Dottot, he says in substance, and not without vigour, "Donot sicken me with your imbecile arguments and lame, impotentconclusions. What I want to know is: What have you done with thisFrance which I left you so glorious? I left you peace; I return andfind war! I left you victories; I find reverses! I left you themillions of Italy; I find despoiling laws and misery throughout!" Butere this terrific indictment had been thrust at them, they had becomeconscious that their dissolute and chaotic regime was at an end, andthat Napoleon had become the ruler of the France he had leftprosperous and found tottering to pieces on his return from Egypt. 

Josephine had played her part in the drama with surprising shrewdnessand marked devotion to her husband's cause. He was rewarded by beingmade First Consul, and she by becoming the first lady of the Republicand the leader of society. They quickly availed themselves of thedistinction by removing from their humble habitation, first to thePetit Luxembourg and then to the Tuileries, where she occupied thebedroom of the famous Marie Antoinette and the apartments formerlyinhabited by Louis, which were immediately above. They gathered roundthem men of merit representing science, art, literature, law, politics, military notables, and fashion. They set up, in fact, alittle Court, but lived a quiet, unostentatious life, so far as it wasdiplomatic and permissive. 

It was not until the advent of the Empire that gaiety and grandeurbegan, excelling and putting into the shade every other Court inEurope. Josephine wallowed in it, but Napoleon adopted and encouragedit more from policy than taste. In fact, when in a whimsical mood, heoften said it bored him. That is not to say that he did not adapthimself to what he believed was a necessity. An Oriental potentatecould not have carried the dignity of splendour more naturally thanhe. Whilst in his secret heart he loathed its pomp and extravagance, fixed in his memory was the impression of poverty and suffering thathe had passed through in his boyhood days, when, in the streets ofParis, he was on the verge of starvation and at one time obliged tosell his meagre possession of books to find food for the mouth of hisbrother Louis, and went without himself. To his intimate friends hewas accustomed to relate the story, not in a whining manner, but witha vividness and pathos that brought tears to the eyes of every one whoheard it. 

The wilful and false conception of Napoleon's character that existedamongst thousands of those who were contemporary with him, and thepersistent efforts to defame him, even now, by a section of theworld's community, are extraordinary, when so many convincing proofsare available which show him to have been the reverse of what they sayhe was. As brother, son, husband, father, or friend, his love, devotion, and loyalty were matchless. He was never once known toupbraid Josephine after the condonement of her infidelities. He paidher colossal debts, not without protest, but rather than make herunhappy he excused her extravagance and overlooked the capricious, peevish way in which she gave her domestic confidences concerninghimself to her friends, who were oft-times his enemies, and soforgiving was he of faults which were so glaring to others, that hefrequently caressed when he should have chastised. 

Josephine played upon his purblindness where she was concerned inmost scandalous ways. She had no money sense, and combined with thisdefect she had no moral sense in money matters. Her debts werechronic, and periodically so enlarged that she adopted the mostmonstrous methods to reduce them before the balances were put beforeNapoleon by herself, or an inkling conveyed to him by a wily creditor;but these subterfuges only added to her spending resources. It is saidthat she actually did not shrink from receiving a thousand francs perday from Fouché as the price of information given him of what wasgoing on in the Tuileries, and also that she received half a millionfrancs from Flachats, the predatory army contractors. 

It is unthinkable that Napoleon, whose rigid uprightness in matters ofmoney has never been disputed, could have known that his wife wasinvolved in such shocking financial dealings, or he would have takensalutary measures to put a definite end to them. He knew that he wassurrounded by men who were inveterate thieves, and when theirdefalcations were brought to his knowledge, they were either cashieredor made to disgorge. Bourrienne, Talleyrand, and Fouché, for instance. But there is no evidence to show that he ever suspected Josephine atany time, and let us hope that the Fouché-Flachats transactions wereeither exaggerated or mere invention, though it is hard to believethat there was no truth in the accusation. 

Napoleon was no sooner made Consul than there began to be hints andinnuendoes of an heir, and as Josephine knew that she could not bearhim one, she was thrown into fits of despondency lest he should bedriven by designing persons in and outside his family to listen to ascheme of divorce and remarriage. The alternative was to nominate oneof his brothers as his heir. Joseph and Lucien were impossible, so hefixed his mind on Louis. But the plot to assassinate him on the way tothe opera, together with the Duc d'Enghien, Cadoudal, Moreau, andPichegru affair, brought the change from Life Consul to Emperor morequickly. The marriage of Louis to Hortense eased Josephine's mind. Shehad in view the fact that an heir might be born to them, and thepossibility of the inheritance going to him. In due course NapoleonCharles was born, and an attempt made by Napoleon to carry his ideaout. Louis was at first in favour of it, but Joseph and Lucien hadenvious conceptions of what the brothers' rights were. Louis becameimpressed with their views, and ultimately decided against Napoleon'swishes. The Senate passed a resolution in favour of "direct natural, legitimate, and adoptive descendants of Napoleon Bonaparte, and on thedirect, natural, legitimate descendants of Joseph and Louis. " Theplebiscite supported the resolution of the Senate, and Joseph andLouis had the mortification of seeing that to them the succession wasbarred. 

This decision was regarded by Josephine as highly satisfactory toherself. She made no fuss about it, but was greatly overjoyed at theprospect of the effect it would have on Napoleon, and for a time nomore was openly heard of divorce; but the venom was insidiously eatingits way to that end all the same, and as he grew in power, so did theconspiracy develop. His own family were eager that she should be putaway, but there were influences more powerful than that of Madame Mèreand her sons and daughters. Talleyrand and Fouché being the HighCommissioners who founded the direct hereditary idea, theypersistently worried him with the plea that the State claimed that heshould make the sacrifice. They knew that this was the strongest andmost effective reason they could put forward to a man who would havegiven his soul in the service of his country. 

The birth of Madame Eleonore Denuelle's son Leon on December 29, 1806, made a great impression on the Emperor's mind. It was well known thathe was the father of the child, and now that there was no doubt as tothe possibility of him having an heir, it was only to be expectedthat the advocates of divorce would press their claim that analliance should be made with one of the powerful ruling families. Theadvantages to France would be inestimable, and would it not establishhimself and his dynasty more firmly on the throne? It is not unlikelythat Napoleon pondered over the great possibilities of such amarriage, but he could not bring himself to the thought of divorcingthe woman he still loved. He went so far as to seek Josephine'ssupport in the plan of making his natural son his heir, and Massonsays that in support of his desire he vigorously used "precedents andinvented justifications. " Happily he did not stretch the law ofhereditary succession further than this. 

Leon, when he grew up, became a great source of trouble to all thosewith whom he was connected. His features and physical make up had amarked resemblance to his father's, but his mind was erratic. He hadinherited none of the steady, sane genius of the Emperor, though butfor a freak of nature which gave him a mental twist, he would havebeen as near his prototype as may be. He was always full of greatschemes, which in the hands of a normally constituted person wouldhave been fashioned into public usefulness. 

Masson gives a vivid and somewhat categorical account of hispredilections, which were "gambling, duels, politics, writingpamphlets, the conception of colossal canal, railway, and commercialundertakings that never got far beyond the initial and rocky mentalstage. " He was one of the chief mourners when his father's remainswere brought to Paris from St. Helena in 1840, and in 1848 aspired tothe Presidency of the Republic, which fell to the lot of his cousinLouis Napoleon, whose life he desired to take, but who, with greatgenerosity, gave him a pension and paid the legacy left him byNapoleon. He died in 1881. 

The birth of Leon gives him a prominent place in the history of thepolitical divorce, though so far as Napoleon was concerned or affectedby it, there is strong evidence to show that he really thought it wasa way out, and had he been left to his own inclinations, theprobability is that there would have been no second marriage so longas Josephine lived. From 1807 to 1809 his brain was racked to pieceswith the inevitable shadow he struggled to evade. He could not bringhimself to sever the tie that bound them together in strong attachmentfor nearly fifteen years. He invented every conceivable device to tryand find a more congenial solution than divorce. 

For two years the Emperor lived in an atmosphere of intolerableanguish which distracted him. The nearer he approached the dreadedtheme, the more fascinating his wife appeared to him, and the moretenaciously he clung to the deep impressions that had been made bythat youthful passion that swayed his very being in other days. Shehad frequently recaptured him from the subtle blandishments of anagency that was ever on his track, and then his devotion became morerapturous than ever. Fouché was frequently rebuked with stern severityfor his pertinacious advocacy of the separation. At another time wehear of him falling into Josephine's arms, shedding copious tears, and, choking with grief, he sobs out, "My poor Josephine! I can neverleave you, " "I still love you, " and so forth. 

Those who pretend to see in these outbursts of devotion nothing butartifice, cannot have informed themselves of the true character ofthis extraordinary man. In truth, his was a sacrifice of affectionforced upon him for the benefit of the State. That is the conclusionthe writer has come to after much research. Even after he waspersuaded that he would have to submit, the recollections of the glorythey had shared together, and of their happy days, and the grief andsuffering the parting would cause, filled him with remorse and pity, and then would come a period of wavering which exasperated his familyand the upholders of the stability of the Empire. At last he sawclearly that it was an imperative duty that must be fulfilled. 

The succession problem had been artfully revived, and the amiableMarie Walewska, who was living close to Schönbrunn, was about to givebirth to a child which he knew to be his, and it is not improbablethat this double assurance that he might reasonably expect to have anheir if he married again brought him to the definite decision to go onwith the divorce; and the Emperor Francis of Austria made haste toform an alliance by offering his daughter Marie Louise in marriage. 

At the end of December, 1809, the great political divorce was ratifiedamid sombre signs of sympathy. Even the Bonapartes were compelled toyield to emotion, and Napoleon himself was profoundly affected. Thesubdued distress of Josephine pierced through the chilly hearts ofthose who had looked on with composure while men and women were beingled to the guillotine during the Reign of Terror. But even Josephine'stears and grief were graceful and fascinating, so that it was notsurprising that the spectators extended sympathy to her in her sorrow. Almost immediately after the ceremony Napoleon became overcome withgrief. He allowed a little time to elapse before asking Meneval toaccompany him to Josephine's apartments. They found her in a conditionof inexorable despair. She flung herself into the Emperor's arms; heembraced and fervently kissed her, but the ordeal was too great. Shecollapsed and fainted. He remained with her until she showed signs ofconsciousness, then left her in charge of Meneval and womenattendants. The sight of her grief was too much for him to bear. 

Napoleon sought a delusive diversion at Trianon after Josephine hadtaken up her abode at Malmaison. His sympathetic and affectionateattentions from there could not have been more earnestly shown. Nothing that would appease her grief and add to her comfort wasoverlooked by him or allowed to be overlooked by others. An annualincome of three million francs was settled on her for life, which, should he pre-decease her, was to be paid by his successors. Sheretained the title of Empress and every other appearance ofsovereignty. 

The negotiations for the second marriage were conducted from Trianon. The Russian alliance fell through, ostensibly on religious grounds. Napoleon did not like the thought of having Russian priests about him, and besides, the Princess Anne was too young to marry, and even ifthere had been no other difficulty, the Emperor Napoleon could notwait. The Saxon alliance did not appeal to him, so he gave preferenceto the House of Austria, and on March 11, 1810, His Majesty wasmarried by proxy at Vienna to the Austrian Archduchess, and on the 1stof April the civil marriage took place at St. Cloud, and the followingday they were ecclesiastically united. [31]

Better for him and for France had he defied the advocates of royalalliance and stuck to Josephine, or even married Marie Walewska. If itwas merely the policy of succession that was aimed at, he could haveadopted his natural son, the brilliant Alexander Walewska, whosesubsequent career in the service of France would have justified thiscourse. 

The desire to unite the French Emperor with one of the powerfulreigning families in order to give stability to the Empire and put anend to incessant warfare was a theory which proved to be a delusion, and perhaps Napoleon, with his clear vision, foresaw the jealousiesand international complications that would arise through a politicalmarriage of this character. This, and his unwillingness to part withJosephine, is a conclusion that may reasonably account for thevacillation that was so pronounced from time to time. 

The flippant attitude (which indicates the scope and summit of anill-informed mind) that he was the victim of abnormal ambition to beconnected with one or other of the royal families is ludicrous. If hehad been eager to have such distinction, it was within his reach atany time after he became First Consul. He had only to impart a hintand there would have been a competition of available princesses, thechoice of which would have bewildered him. Assuredly he showed noyouthful impetuosity in this respect, and it may not be an overdrawnhypothesis to conclude that his marriage with Marie Louise was neitherpopular with the French people as a whole nor with othernationalities. It excited jealousy and mistrust amongst the largerPowers, and in France itself the memory of the last ill-fated union ofFrance with Austria--that of Marie Antoinette and Louis--had leftrankling effects in the minds of the people of the Revolution. [32]

Murat had urged on his brother-in-law and the grand dignitaries thefact that a marriage with a relative of Marie Antoinette, who was anabhorrence to the adherents of the Revolution, would alienate a largepublic, but Murat's objections were suspected of having personalcolour and overruled. It is, however, beyond conjecture that the Kingof Naples had diagnosed aright; whether from self-interest or not, thewarning proved accurate. The most loyal and devoted of his subjectsfelt that their invincible hero was drifting into a vortex of trouble. They had learned by bitter experience the duplicity of Austriandiplomacy. The remembrance of the cruel wars they had been cunninglytrapped into, the bleached bones of Frenchmen that lay on Austriansoil, and the denuded homes that resulted from Austria's odious policyof greed, worked on them like a subtle poison. And the glory of theirconquests over her was nullified by the eternal suspicion that she wasever hatching new grounds of quarrel. They thought, indeed, theirpremonition of Austria's perpetual treachery was clear and definite, and that the new Empress would be a useful medium of their enemies'machinations. 

We can never fully estimate to what extent these impressionsinfluenced their minds and actions and the part they played inhastening the great national humiliation. It is a pretty certainconclusion that it was only the colossal successes and magicalpersonality of the Emperor that kept subdued the spirit of resentmentwhich the marriage had caused. 

And we have historic evidence before us which clearly shows that thewell-balanced mind of Napoleon was torn and tattered between doubt andconviction, and he fell into the fatal error of allowing his judgmentto be overruled either by circumstances or pride. Had he relied on hissuperstition even, the chances are that St. Helena would never havehad the stigma of his captivity stamped upon it. 

French and Austrian alliances have never, so far as they affectedpolitical history, been very successful. The stability of earthlythings is governed, not by sentiment or theoretic doctrines, but byfacts as hard as granite, and no one knew this more thoroughly thanthe man who fell a victim to the devices of the Austrians and theirFrench allies. 

He was usually reticent about his domestic sorrows while in exile, butwhen his thoughts were far off, reviewing the great mystery of humandestiny, he broke the rule, and with a sort of languid frankness spokethe thoughts that crowded his mind, and it was during these spasmodicperiods that he opened his soul by declaring that it was his "havingmarried a princess of Austria that ruined him, and that his marriagewith Marie Louise was the cause of the expedition into Russia, " andthat "he might not have been at St. Helena had he married aFrenchwoman. " It is said that he seriously thought of doing this, andhad some available ladies put before him with that object. Thesedreamy utterances reveal that his mind was centred on the causes ofhis misfortunes, and that he held definite views on the marriagetragedy, and perhaps his sense of pride, the interests of his son (theKing of Rome), and the reluctance to admit that he knew he was goingwrong at the time, constrained him to withhold much that he thoughtand knew. The impression we get is that he could not bring himself toutter the whole of the unutterable canker which haunted him. 

It is strange that this keen-sighted man should have yielded up hisown convictions and sunk under the admonitions of less capable judges. Even so far back as the Directory days, when Bernadotte was insultedat Vienna, he summed up the Austrian character in the followingterms:--"When the Austrians think of making war, they do not insult;they cajole and flatter the enemy, so that they may have a betterchance to stick a knife into him. " He told the Directory they did notunderstand the Cabinet of Vienna; "it is the meanest and mostperfidious to be found. " "It will not make war with you because itcannot. " "Peace with Austria is only a truce. " His diagnoses wereconfirmed by Bernadotte, and more than confirmed in after years. Themarvel is that he did not allow himself to benefit by his shrewdobservations at a moment when so much depended on strength, notvacillation and weakness. 

A vivid justification of the opposition to another Austrian princesssharing the throne of France is embodied in the lofty ideals (?) ofthe Emperor Francis to his daughter Marie Louise at Schönbrunn aftershe had deserted Napoleon. He said to her:--"As my daughter, all thatI have is yours, even my blood and my life; as a sovereign, I do notknow you. "

The benediction, pure and big of heart, benignly expressed, ispromptly qualified with kingly sternness; the orthodoxy being that solong as Napoleon was in power she was his daughter, all that he hadwas hers, including his life and blood, but now that he has fallen shemust not thwart his wishes, and loyally share the fate of him who wasthe father of her son, who had given her unparalleled glory, and beenso merciful to Francis himself. If she elected to be at all wifely andcling to her husband in his misfortune, then he would assert thesovereign, and as readily gore her as he would Napoleon if, in hispatriarchal wisdom, he judged national interests were at stake. Hisspirit-crushing rhetoric had a real ultra-monarchical ring about it. But it was meant for other ears and a purpose other than that ofmaking his daughter shudder. So far as she was concerned, he mighthave saved himself any anxiety on that score. She bowed her head inconformity, and swiftly cast her amorous eyes on Neipperg, a man afterhis and her own heart. This was the culminating event that brought herdestiny with Napoleon to an end, though _he_ tried to avert it, andthe causes are summarised in his own pathetic language, clearlyexpressed from time to time. 

His nephew, Napoleon III. , taking a lesson from his folly, refused tobe buffeted into political matrimony by any of the matchmakingfactions. When his turn came he acted with independence and wisdom byignoring the blandishments of meddling advisers and royalconventionalism, and elected to marry the lady on whom he had set hisaffections. 

Incidentally, it may be stated that Napoleon III. 's merits have beenovershadowed by the greater genius of his uncle, but as time separatesthe reigns of the two men it will be realised that, though he was notlooked upon as a great military general, he had genius of a differentkind, and was unquestionably a great ruler, acting under somewhatchanged conditions, but subject to the same human caprices, and a timewill come when the benefits he bestowed upon the French nation will beappreciated more than they are this day. 

In 1812, Europe was in a state of dammed convulsion. The wars, thoughalways successful for France, had brought about no definite settlementof international affairs. Peace was transitory, and the dread ofNapoleon's power and genius was the only check on rapacious designs onhis dominion. 

What direct or indirect share Marie Louise had in bringing about thewar with Russia and then the great European struggle will never bewholly known, but as the wife of Napoleon she would have opportunitiesof hearing from himself and those who were in his confidence remarksand even discussions on the complexities of the political situation. She was in daily communication with Metternich, and constantlycorresponding with her father; and even allowing that her intentionswere loyal at that time to her husband and to the country of heradoption, she may have unconsciously conveyed something that in thehands of adroit diplomats would reveal the pivot on which great issuesmight depend. Then, placing the Regency in her hands was an uncheckedtemptation, and must be counted as one of Napoleon's great mistakes. Imbued with an abundant share of Austrian predilection, and occupyinga mechanical or fictitious position towards France and its ruler, andin view of her subsequent conduct, it is a reasonable assumption thatduring the Regency she conveyed important information of militarymovements and intentions to the Austrian Court, which it was not slowto take advantage of; and if truth were told, it would be found thatthe Allies owed much of their success to the Austrian Archduchess. Mayit not have been part of the subtle policy of Austria in arranging themarriage? Everything certainly points to it. 

Instead of making Metternich a present at the Prague Congress of asnuff-box which cost 30, 000 francs, as a token of friendship, Fouché, who always had his mind well stored with ideas of corruption, suggested to the Emperor that, if it was intended to buy Austria off, he ought to make it millions. If Napoleon had been a man after his ownheart, this might have been a successful solution for a time, butonly for a time. Meneval says that the Emperor, who had a horror ofcorruption, replied to him with a gesture of disgust. 

In the early part of 1812, when war with Russia had become imminent, Napoleon carried out a promise that Josephine should see the King ofRome. The meeting took place at Bagatelle. She hugged and kissed thechild with motherly affection, and her tears flowed with profusion. The scene was touching, and proved to be the everlasting farewell. Strange as it may appear, Josephine formed an enduring affection forNapoleon's natural son, afterwards Count Colonna (Alexander Walewska), and for his mother, Marie Walewska. She loved the child and treatedhim with the same indulgence as she did her own grandchildren. Themother was a regular visitor, and no one was more welcome at Malmaisonthan she. These incidents of magnanimity, characteristic of Josephine, would make her not only attractive but lovable, were it not there arealso left on record flaws which show that she was seriously lacking inprobity and fidelity to him to whom she owed everything. Her maternalaffection and loving care of her children are without reproach, andher generosity to worthy and unworthy people was extraordinary. Sheloved Napoleon with peculiar eccentricity. His honour and interestswere never a consideration. She allowed herself to be surrounded atMalmaison during the Russian campaign with Royalist plotters andtreachery of the most implacable character. She poured out her woes tothem with acceptable results, and nothing that would damage him anddraw sympathy to herself was left uncommunicated. Her whole thoughtwas of herself. She did not intend to be false or cruel to him, andyet she was both cruel and false. 

As soon as the Allied Armies had taken possession of Paris, theirrepressible Madame de Staël made a call on Josephine to ascertainhow she stood now towards her former husband. She promptly asked herwhether she still loved him. Josephine resented the impertinence, sothe Duchesse de Reggio relates, and told some of her visitors that shehad never ceased to love the Emperor in the days of his prosperity, and it was unthinkable that she should cease to do so in hisadversity. Unhappily for Josephine, she adopted a most astoundingcourse of showing her devotion by agreeing to the visits, first, ofthe Emperor of Russia, and then the other sovereigns and foreigndignitaries. She gave balls and treated the enemies of France, andespecially the Tsar, as though they were the real descendants of thebuilders of the Temple to Jehovah. She and Hortense walked about thegrounds linked to Alexander's arms during frequent visits, which wasindicative of strongly formed affection. 

Had Josephine been possessed of a grain of discernment or a properestimate of her dignity, she would have seen that this was part of awell-defined policy of striking a blow through her at the man sheprofessed to love still, even with a greater passion now that he wasthe victim of combined and unrelenting hostility. Hortense, it wouldappear, refused at first to have any dealings with Alexander, but thissovereign's personal charms, winning manners, and homely ways soonfascinated and captured her. She may be excused, but her mother didnot act the part of a nobleminded woman, and her memory must bear thereproach of it. 

Apart from the respect she owed to herself, she should have rememberedthe duty and loyalty she owed to a vast French public, and to thevictim of her guests, who had been to her the most forgiving, indulgent friend that ever a human soul was blessed with. He had beena father to her children, and even when he was overwhelmed with theconsequences of great disaster, his tenderest and most generousthoughts were sent to her. 

A woman who had a high sense of duty and honour would not haveaccepted a single favour from either one or the other of the inimicalsovereigns, even if it had been offered to her; much less would shehave cringed and whined indelicately in order that she might receiveeither their smiles or their favours at so abhorrent a price. 

Some writers have endeavoured to give Josephine credit for havinginfluenced Alexander in a way that secured for Napoleon better termsthan he would have otherwise got at the first abdication. Thesuggestion is ludicrous. Presumably the alternative was that he shouldbe shot or confined in a fortress for the balance of his life. Eitherof these ideas of disposing of his person would have created reactionand public vengeance. The Allies shied at this, though some of themost ferocious, but by no means the bravest, of the set clamoured forshooting, which is always the way with spurious heroes. 

The diplomats amongst them devised the more subtle plan of exiling himfirst to Elba with the title of Emperor, and a pension of £200, 000 perannum, never a penny of which was paid, or, in the light of history, was ever intended to be paid. 

They had preconceived the notion of masking the St. Helena plan untilthey thought they had cheated the public into believing that they wereinspired by humane motives and the necessity for the peace of Europe. They laboriously studied out the most ingenious plots so that theymight be glorified for ridding Europe of a "monster. "

Napoleon was kept advised, during his stay at Elba, of their designson the liberty they had graciously (?) given him (with a pension thatwas designedly withheld), and, acting on certain specific information, he promptly developed one of his most brilliant achievements--thesudden landing in France, his triumphal march to Paris, and theresultant flight of the Bourbons at his unexpected approach at thehead of an enthusiastic army. 

The campaign which followed--ending with the Battle ofWaterloo--enabled the Allies, after his defeat, to satisfy thecravings of their savage instincts by carrying out their plan asmentioned above and sending him to martyrdom. 

But one of their most brutal acts was in refusing the request that hiswife and child should accompany him to Elba. These are the ultimate"better terms" that Josephine is said to have secured by coquettingwith Alexander of Russia!

She revelled in grasping at every fragment of wreckage that would beof advantage to herself and her family, and Alexander's craftyfriendship unquestionably gave her opportunities to indulge uncheckedin complaints of her grievances against the man who had been so foullybetrayed. Her mania for the distribution of confidences of the mostsacred character was only equalled by her capacity for intriguing andpiling up debts, and these attributes never forsook her at any time. 

Josephine's moral qualities cannot be accurately judged by herfrequent outpourings of admiration and affection for Napoleon toEugene and Hortense. In the letters to each which are extant, shedeclares it would be impossible for anyone to be kinder, more amiable, or considerate than he has always been, and even after the divorce shewrites that if she loved him less sincerely, he could not show moreanxiety to mitigate anything that might be painful to her. 

But notwithstanding these declarations, she never failed to gratifyher insatiable love of pouring forth to his most inveterate enemiesfaults and failings that her constitutional moral obliquity indicatedhe had. It is not an unfair assumption, therefore, that theirMajesties and others had conveyed to them in handfuls (unwittinglyperhaps) much that was valuable to their pernicious purpose while theywere being entertained at Malmaison. It has been said that it was herintention to be presented to the Bourbon King, and though we wouldfain believe her to be incapable of such perfidy, it is quite inkeeping with the by-ways of her complex character, more especially asEugene had paid him a visit. The promises of the sovereigns that theinterests of herself and children would be protected became lessreassuring as the few days that were left to her went on. At last sherealised they were mere silken verbiage, and gave way to despair. This, and the anxiety of entertaining her royal guests, accentuatedthe illness she had contracted. Alexander paid his first visit on May14th, and she died of quinsy or diphtheria on May 29, 1814. 

The allied monarchs were all represented at her funeral, and thePrince of Mecklenburg (the Queen of Prussia's brother) was amongst themourners. It was of him the Court gossipers assiduously circulatedreports that he was paying suspicious attention to Josephine after thedivorce. Napoleon, on hearing of the flirtation through Fouché, rebuked her with justifiable vigour on the ground of it being a grossviolation of dignity to go about with the Prince and others of lowerranks to second-rate theatres, even under the cover of incognito. Hedoes not appear to have thought there was anything more thanJosephine's habitual lack of respect for herself and the high positionhe had preserved for her, though according to the unreliable Madame deRemusat Napoleon suggested to his divorced wife that she should takePrince Mecklenburg as her husband. The same authority (?) asserts thatthe Prince had written to Napoleon asking his permission, and, further, says that Josephine told her this curious story. It isentirely unsupported by either the words or actions of the Emperorhimself, and may be put aside as another of the fabrications of thememoir writer. 

That there was a flirtation there can be little doubt, but thePrince's object may have been part of the political intrigue, ratherthan carnal intercourse with a woman of nearly fifty years of age. Josephine, always sorry for herself, a sieve of the first water, susceptible to flattery, blind to device, yearning for admiration andpity, was rejoiced to find attention extended to her from any quarter, but coming from the Royal House of Prussia or any other royalpersonage it was a dazzling compliment to the high esteem in which shebelieved she was held, and enhanced the luxury of feeling that she wasthe centre of international sympathy. 

It was not that she had any malicious intent to do deliberate wrong toNapoleon, or any thought of degrading herself. Her mind did not workin these grooves. She was merely carried off her feet by vain love ofself-approbation, which led her far beyond the bounds of honourableprudence. She was interred at Rueil amidst quiet solemnity, and in1825 Eugene and Hortense erected a monument in her memory. 

The legend is that her last articulate utterance was the enchantedname of "Napoleon"--"Elba. " Corvisat, the Imperial physician, waspiteously asked by the Emperor on his return why he allowed her todie, and the nature of the malady that took her spirit away. Hereplied that she "Died of grief and sorrow. " Her own doctor, Horeau, told him pretty much the same thing, which brought forth the sadreply, she was a "good woman" and "loved me well. " The intimation thatshe had spoken often and kindly of him brought back all the oldpassion for her and filled him with emotion. He had heard of her deathwhile at Elba, and told Corvisat that it was a most acute grief tohim, and although she had her failings _she_ at least would "neverhave abandoned him"; and possibly this latter expressed opinion, sooften repeated, might have been fulfilled had he at once thrown MarieLouise over after her desertion of him. 

The popular charges against Napoleon, by those who are eitherprejudiced or have failed to inform themselves of his history, arethat he must have been a cruel and barbarous husband or he would nothave divorced his wife, and that, as a ruler, he thirsted for blood. Each of these, as well as many other silly things that are said andbelieved of him, is palpably false. As a husband, so far as kindnessand indulgence goes, he was exemplary. As a soldier, First Consul, andEmperor, his desire at all times was for peace. History has revealedthe real man, and in recent years it has been convincingly proved thathe was the very antithesis of the monster he has been given out andsupposed to be. Now, in the light of more accurate knowledge andcalmer judgment, the world is showing a desire to do him the justicehe never ceased to believe that it would do him. 

His unexampled personality and fame is spreading and inspiringeverywhere. His faults are being put in the limelight of publicopinion, and the growing desire to treat even these with propergenerosity is an indication that reason and knowledge are taking theplace of stereotyped international prejudice, political and personal. We are beginning to see more clearly through the fog of enmity that hehad rare virtues, besides having unparalleled genius. The divorce ofJosephine was unquestionably political, though had he been theferocious creature he has been made to appear, the opportunities shegave him so frequently would have justified the divorce at a muchearlier stage on other than political grounds. 

It ill becomes a nation which knew George I. , George IV. , and HenryVIII. To take such unctuous exception to the gentle and benevolentattitude of Napoleon before and after the annulment of the marriage. 

FOOTNOTES:

[31] It has been asserted that when Josephine found the divorce to beinevitable she herself suggested the alliance with Marie Louise. Onereason for believing that this might be the case lies in the fact thatthe affection of Josephine's children for Napoleon suffered nodiminution on account of the divorce--indeed, Eugene took a leadingpart in the negotiations for the marriage. 

[32] In the notorious "Letters from the Cape, " addressed to LadyClavering and variously attributed to an Englishman, Las Cases, andeven Napoleon himself, there is noted a curious coincidence withregard to the two Franco-Austrian alliances. Both marriage contractswere signed under somewhat similar circumstances, and in both casesfêtes were held in honour of the event. At the marriage fête of LouisXVI. And Marie Antoinette a calamity occurred which resulted in theloss of about two thousand lives. To celebrate the union of Napoleonand Marie Louise, Prince Schwartzenberg gave a fête, at which a fireoccurred, the Prince's wife and some twenty other people being burntto death. The superstitious drew attention to the coincidence, and itis said that Napoleon looked upon it as an evil omen. 

CHAPTER VII

RELIGIOUS NOTIONS OF NAPOLEON

In contrast with members of the oligarchy, who threw all moralrestraints to the winds, Napoleon towers above them. Take anygrounds--administrative, strategical, religious, domestic--he waspreeminent above his contemporaries. On religious grounds alone, thosethoughts of his which have been recorded not only disclose the insightof a man of affairs, but reveal the thinking mind of a deeplyreligious being. His conversations with Gourgaud on religioussubjects, some of which are quoted in Lord Rosebery's admirable book, "The Last Phase, " are so contradictory that they cannot be taken asauthentic beliefs. It greatly depended to whom he was talking as tothe line he took. 

It is evident that the Emperor took a delight in arguing with andcontradicting the devout Catholic for sheer intellectual exercise. Atone time he declares to his refractory companion, "If I had to choosea religion, I would worship the sun, because the sun gives to allthings life and fertility. " At another time he torments the Count, after tying him into a knot and exposing his superficial knowledge, bysaying that "the Mohammedan religion is the finest of all. " But whenhis mind seriously dwells on sacred things, he declares "that religionlends sanctity to everything. " "The remission of sins is a beautifulidea. " "It makes the Christian religion so attractive that it willnever perish. No one can say 'I do not believe and I never shallbelieve. '"

Montholon is more to the writer's liking than Gourgaud, even thoughGourgaud's authenticity is backed by Lord Rosebery, and we shall seelater what _he_ says about his Emperor's religious beliefs. It was hewho endeavoured to mitigate his master's mental and physicalsufferings, and it was he whom he desired should close his eyes indeath when the nefarious assassination had been completed. It was he, too, who got himself locked up in the fortress of Ham for seven yearsby adhering steadfastly to the cause of the great exile's nephew. Gourgaud was loyal and devoted on a sort of sliding scale, which ledhim to do great injustice to the stricken hero. Montholon's devotionwas consistent and abiding under all circumstances, while Gourgaud'sfluctuated with his moods. 

None of Napoleon's companions in exile were admitted to such closeintimacy with the illustrious warrior-statesman as was CountMontholon, not even Bertrand or Marchand. It was he who had wonconfidence by the most amazing attachment that one human being couldgive to another, and it was natural that the big soul of Napoleonshould respond to what amounted to fanatical fidelity. He was thebeloved companion of the Emperor for six years, and during the lastforty-two nights of his life he was with him in the death-chamber, andat his request he kept vigil and witnessed, his spirit pass away. 

It was to him, when the shadow of death was hovering round the smittenrock, that Napoleon conveyed his most sacred thoughts, domestic, civil, and religious. He made him one of his executors, bequeathed tohim a fortune, entrusted him with the custody of precious documents, and to his dying day the recipient of such flattering confidencesnever betrayed by word or act the faith that was reposed in him, nordid he ever falter in his devotion to the martyr's cause. It is fromhim we have handed down the famous constitution drawn up by Napoleonfor his son, which is pregnant with democratic wisdom and flows withthe genius of statesmanship. We get, too, a vivid knowledge of thereligious side of Napoleon's versatile character. His talks anddictations on this controversial subject are unorthodox if you like, but nevertheless religious; copious in thought and trenchant invocabulary, they disclose the magic of a well-stored inspired mind. Heindulges in neither puerilities nor conventionalities. He is avigorous student of the Bible and the Koran; he knows his subject, andspeaks his reasonings without reservation, and in the end we see thevision of the omnipotent God fixed in an enduring belief. 

In the first clause of his will he declares: "I die in the ApostolicRoman religion, in the bosom of which I was born more than fifty yearssince. " If any other proof were needed that he believed in thedivinity of Jesus Christ, this avowed declaration on the eve of thegreat transformation may be confirmed by the fact that the cardinaldoctrine of the Roman religion centres in the divinity of Christ. Again, in the course of his public and private duties, you frequentlycome across passages in his letters and official documents such as"May God have you in His holy keeping. " It may be said that this is amere form or figure of speech but then unbelievers do not use suchphrases. 

We find in everyday life a lack of courage to do justice and begenerous to one another. But surely, in the interest of political, historical, and personal rectitude, the dying man's message to theworld should absolve him from having his lucid, succinctconversations jargoned into a tattered tedium. It is either aperversion of understanding or a misanthropic egoism that can twistNapoleon's discourses on religious topics into meaning that he everwas seriously thinking of giving preference to the worship of the sun, or contemplating becoming a follower of Mohammed, or that he evershowed real evidences of being an unbeliever in the God of his race. 

He praised many of the virtues of the Mohammedan religion, such ashonesty, cleanliness, temperance, and devoutness, and denounced withscathing sarcasm, not Christ, but professing Christians whose conducttowards himself was beneath the dignity of the pagan. But this in noway detracts from his admiration of the genuine follower of Christ. Hesays that "religious ideas have more influence than certainnarrow-minded philosophers are willing to believe; they are capable ofrendering great services to humanity. " Again, he says that "theChristian religion is the religion of a civilised people; it isentirely spiritual, and the reward which Jesus Christ promises to theelect is that they shall see God face to face; and its whole tendencyis to subdue the passions; it offers nothing to excite them. "

There were frequently heated arguments on religion between Napoleonand members of his suite during the dreary hours at Longwood, and onone of these occasions he, Montholon, and Antommarchi are thedebaters. To the former he suddenly flashed out: "I know men well, andI tell you that Jesus Christ was not a man"; then he curtly attacksthe pretentious doctor by informing him that "aspiring to be anatheist does not make a man one. "

Dr. Alexander Mair published in the _Expositor_, some twenty yearsago, a critical study of the authenticity of the declarations imputedto Napoleon when at St. Helena on the subject of the Christianreligion, from which I make the following extract:--

"One evening at St. Helena, " says M. Beauterne, "the conversation wasanimated. The subject treated of was an exalted one; it was thedivinity of Jesus Christ. Napoleon defended the truth of this doctrinewith the arguments and eloquence of a man of genius, with somethingalso of the native faith of the Corsican and the Italian. To theobjections of one of the interlocutors, who seemed to see in theSaviour but a sage, an illustrious philosopher, a great man, theEmperor replied:--

"'I know men, and I tell you that Jesus Christ is not a man. 

"'Superficial minds may see some resemblance between Christ and thefounders of empires, the conquerors, and the gods of other religions. That resemblance does not exist. 

"'I see in Lycurgus, Numa, Confucius, and Mahomet merely legislators;but nothing which reveals the Deity. On the contrary, I see numerousrelations between them and myself. I make out resemblances, weaknesses, and common errors which assimilate them to myself andhumanity. Their faculties are those which I possess. But it isdifferent with Christ. Everything about Him astonishes me; His spiritsurprises me, and His will confounds me. Between Him and anything ofthis world there is no possible comparison. He is really a Beingapart. 

"'The nearer I approach Him and the more clearly I examine Him, themore everything seems above me; everything continues great with agreatness that crushes me. 

"'His religion is a secret belonging to Himself alone, and proceedsfrom an intelligence which assuredly is not the intelligence of man. There is in Him a profound originality which creates a series ofsayings and maxims hitherto unknown. 

"'Christ expects everything from His death. Is that the invention of aman? On the contrary, it is a strange course of procedure, asuperhuman confidence, an inexplicable reality. In every otherexistence than that of Christ, what imperfections, what changes! Idefy you to cite any existence, other than that of Christ, exempt fromthe least vacillation, free from all such blemishes and changes. Fromthe first day to the last He is the same, always the same, majesticand simple, infinitely severe, and infinitely gentle. 

"'How the horizon of His empire extends, and prolongs itself intoinfinitude! Christ reigns beyond life and beyond death. The past andthe future are alike to Him; the kingdom of the truth has, and ineffect can have, no other limit than the false. Jesus has takenpossession of the human race; He has made of it a single nationality, the nationality of upright men, whom He calls to a perfect life. 

"'The existence of Christ from beginning to end is a tissue entirelymysterious, I admit; but that mystery meets difficulties which are inall existences. Reject it, the world is an enigma; accept it, and wehave an admirable solution of the history of man. 

"'Christ speaks, and henceforth generations belong to Him by bondsmore close, more intimate than those of blood, by a union more sacred, more imperious than any other union beside. He kindles the flame of alove which kills out the love of self and prevails over every otherlove. Without contradiction, the greatest miracle of Christ is thereign of love. All who believe in Him sincerely feel this love, wonderful, supernatural, supreme. It is a phenomenon inexplicable, impossible to reason and the power of man; a sacred fire given to theearth by this new Prometheus, of which Time, the great destroyer, canneither exhaust the force nor terminate the duration. That is what Iwonder at most of all, for I often think about it; and it is thatwhich absolutely proves to me the divinity of Christ!'

"Here the Emperor's voice assumed a peculiar accent of ironicalmelancholy and of profound sadness: 'Yes, our existence has shone withall the splendour of the crown and sovereignty; and yours, Montholon, Bertrand, reflected that splendour, as the dome of the Invalides, gilded by us, reflects the rays of the sun. But reverses have come;the gold is effaced little by little. The rain of misfortunes andoutrages with which we are deluged every day carries away the lastparticles; we are only lead, gentlemen, and soon we shall be but dust. Such is the destiny of great men; such is the near destiny of thegreat Napoleon. 

"'What an abyss between my profound misery and the eternal reign ofChrist, proclaimed, worshipped, beloved, adored, living throughout thewhole universe! Is that to die? Is it not rather to live?'"

A more beautiful panegyric on the divinity of Christ has never beenpronounced. The thrilling and convincing conclusions evolved from themind of a great reader, a great thinker--a man, in fact, who hadstudied and knew the human side of life, and could describe it withflawless accuracy--are a complete refutation of the opinions expressedeither from prejudice or personal and political motives. Napoleonconversed about religion with other men in a critical way, not alwayswith orthodox reverence, but certainly with the conviction that he hada thorough knowledge of every phase of the subject. Perhaps he derivedpleasure from showing that he did not accept the popular doctrineunreservedly. 

His unorthodox view of the Catholic religion is shown by the fact thatin 1797 he endeavoured to get Pius VI. To suppress the Inquisitionthroughout Europe. The Pope, in his reply, addressing the General ashis "very dear son, " urges him to abandon the idea and assures himthat the charges made against the Holy Office are false. He furthersays that the Inquisition is not tyrannical, and that sooner thanremove the Holy Office he would part with a province. Napoleon for atime gave way, and it was not until 1808 that he issued a decreesuppressing the institution in France and confiscating its property. This incident is another proof of Napoleon's humane attitude towardshis people and his abhorrence of religious intolerance. 

The basis for such an attitude towards an accepted institution of theRoman Catholic Church was Napoleon's belief that "Faith is beyond thereach of the law and the most sacred property of man, for which he hasno right to account to any mortal if there is nothing in it contraryto social order. "

Unquestionably he had pride in impressing his auditors with thevastness of his information, acquired by reading and study. He had, moreover, a kind of childlike vanity in making men feel that he wasnot only extraordinary, but greatly their superior, even when they gothim to talk on their own subjects. This habit was especiallypronounced at St. Helena. 

But this in no way impairs the evidences of his spiritual character. One of his first acts when his authority was established in France wasto face the most hostile declamation against the Concordat, butbelieving that no good government could be assured without religion, he carried his convictions through in spite of it being a reversion ofone of the cardinal doctrines of the Revolution, and there isabundance of proof that when he was faced with the last great problem, he accepted it without a sign of superstitious dread, believing in theimmortality of the soul which should reveal all things. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

LIST OF SOME OF THE BOOKS REFERRED TO OR CONSULTED BY THE AUTHOR

Correspondence of Napoleon. Last Letters of Napoleon. Letters and Despatches of the First Napoleon, by Bingham. Napoleon's Miscellanies. Napoleon's Own Memoirs. Napoleon Anecdotes, Ireland. Talks of Napoleon at St. Helena, by Count Gourgaud. Napoleon's Correspondence with King Joseph. Napoleon's Letters to Josephine, by H. F. Hall. Letters from the Island of St. Helena. History of Napoleon, by Lanfrey. Life of Napoleon, by Sir Walter Scott. Life of Napoleon, by J. H. Rose. Napoleon, by Phyfe. Private Life of Napoleon, by Levy. Life of Napoleon, by Bourrienne. Short Life of Napoleon, by J. R. Seeley. Life of Napoleon the Third, by Blanchard. Life of Napoleon, by W. Hazlitt. History of Napoleon, edited by R. H. Horne. Life of Napoleon, by MacFarlane. History of Napoleon, by George Moir Bussey. Life of Napoleon, by W. M. Sloane. Napoleon, by J. T. Bailey. Napoleon, by Dr. Max Lenz. Baron de Meneval, Memoirs. Memoirs of Count Miot de Melito. Memoirs of General Count Rapp, written by himself. Memoirs of the Duke of Rovigo. Memoirs of Madame Junot, Duchess of Abrantès. Secret Memoirs of Napoleon, by Charles Doris. Mallet Du Pan, by B. Mallet. Madame de Staël. Recollections of Marshal MacDonald. Memoirs of the Empress Josephine. Memoirs of Queen Hortense. Memoirs of the Court of St. Cloud. Memoirs of the Empress Marie Louise, by De St. Amand. Memoirs of Joseph. Memoirs of Madame de Remusat. Life of Nelson, by Southey. Life of Wellington, by George Hooper. Life of Sir Walter Scott, by Lockhart. Dumourier Memoirs. Life of Byron. William Pitt, by Lord Rosebery. William Pitt, by Charles Whibley. Memoirs of the Court of the Empress Josephine, by Ducrest. The Sailor King, by Fitzgerald Molloy. Marmont Memoirs. General Marbot Memoirs. Marshal Berthier, by General Derrecagaix. Constant, Memoirs of the Life of Napoleon. Napoleon and Marie Louise, by Madame Durand. The Women Napoleon Loved, by Tighe Hopkins. The Marriages of the Bonapartes, by Bingham. Napoleon at Home, by F. Masson. Napoleon et les Femmes, by F. Masson. Josephine, Imperatrice et Reine, by F. Masson. Love of an Uncrowned Queen, by Wilkins. The Love Affairs of Napoleon, by Joseph Turquan. The Women Bonapartes, by Noel Williams. Las Cases' Journal. Napoleon at St. Helena and Sir Hudson Lowe, by Forsyth. Napoleon's Captivity in Relation to Sir Hudson Lowe, by R. C. Seaton. The Exile of St. Helena, by Philippe Gonnard. Napoleon, Last Voyages, by J. H. Rose. The Last Days of Napoleon, by Dr. F. Antommarchi. Duke of Reichstadt, by De Wertheimer. Napoleon, the First Phase, by Oscar Browning. Napoleon, The Last Phase, by Lord Rosebery. Talks of Napoleon at St. Helena, by Latimer. The Surrender of Napoleon, by Rear-Admiral Sir Frederick Maitland. Napoleon in Exile, by Barry O'Meara. The Drama of St. Helena, by Paul Frembeaux. History of a Crime, by Victor Hugo. History of the Captivity of Napoleon, by Count Montholon. Warden's Letters from St. Helena. With Napoleon at St. Helena, by Dr. John Stokoe. Napoleon's Last Voyages, by Sir Thomas Usher. Napoleon and His Fellow Travellers, by Clement Shorter. An Exposition of Some of the Transactions that have taken place at St. Helena since the Appointment of Sir Hudson Lowe as Governor of that Island, by B. E. O'Meara. Facts Illustrative of the Treatment of Napoleon Bonaparte in St. Helena, by Theodore Hook (?). History of the Consulate and the Empire, by Thiers. Napoleon's Expedition to Russia, by Count Philippe de Segur. Napoleon in Russia, by Verestchagen. Napoleon, King of Elba, by Paul Gruyer. Cambridge Modern History, Volume IX. , Sections by-- Georges Pariset. T. A. Walker. H. W. Wilson. Anton Guilland. H. A. L. Fisher. L. G. Wickham-Legg. E. M. Lloyd. J. Holland Rose. August Keim. C. W. Oman. Eugen Stschepkin. Julius von Pflugk-Harttung. A. W. Ward. G. P. Gooch. Napoleon and His Detractors, by Prince Napoleon. Heinrich Heine's Essays. France, by J. E. C. Bodley. Talleyrand, by Lady Blennerhassett. Napoleon's Marshals, by R. P. Dunn Pattison. French Revolution, by Thomas Carlyle. French Revolution, by Lord Acton. Bonaparte and the Consulate, by Thibeaudeau. Napoleonic Studies, by J. Holland Rose. Biographical Sketches, by Harriet Martineau. From Howard to Nelson, by Mahan. The Life of Nelson, by Mahan. A Mariner of England, 1780-1817, edited by Colonel Spencer Childers. Bonapartism, by H. A. L. Fisher. Bernadotte's Correspondence with Napoleon. 

LIST OF EVENTS AND DATES HAVING REFERENCE TO NAPOLEON BONAPARTE

1769. Aug. 15. Napoleon the First born. 

1789. July 14. French Revolution breaks out with the destruction of the Bastille. 

1790. July 14. France declared a Limited Monarchy. 

 July 14. Louis XVI. Swears to maintain the Constitution. 

1791. June 21. The King, Queen, and Royal family arrested at Varennes. 

 Sept. 15. Louis (a prisoner) signs the National Constitution. 

1792. July 17. First coalition against France. 

 Nov. 19. French people declare their fraternity with all nations who desire to be free and offer help. 

1796. Mar. 9. Bonaparte's marriage with Josephine. Bonaparte's successful campaign in Italy. 

1798. Expedition to Syria and Egypt. 

1799. April. European coalition against France. 

 Nov. 10. Council of 500 deposed by Bonaparte; he is declared First Consul. 1800. June 14. Bonaparte defeats the Austrians at Marengo. Dec. 24. Bonaparte's life attempted by an infernal machine. 

 Bank of France founded by Napoleon. 

1802. Mar. 28. Peace of Amiens (with England, Spain, and Holland) signed. 

1802. May 19. Legion of Honour instituted by Napoleon. 

 Aug. 2. Napoleon made First Consul for life. 

1803. April 14. Bank of France established. 

 May 22. Declaration of war against England. 

1804. Feb. 15. Conspiracy of Moreau and Pichegru against Napoleon. 

 Mar. 21. Duc d'Enghien executed. 

 May 18. Napoleon proclaimed Emperor of France. 

 Dec. 2. Napoleon crowned by the Pope. 

1805. May 26. Napoleon crowned King of Italy. 

 Aug. Third coalition against France. 

 Dec. 2. Napoleon defeats the Allies at Austerlitz. 

1806. Oct. 14. Napoleon defeats the Prussians at Jena. 

1807. Feb. 8. Napoleon defeats the Russians at Eylau. 

 July 7. Peace of Tilsit signed. 

 Dec. 17. Napoleon issues his Milan Decree against British commerce. 

1808. Mar. 1. New Nobility of France created. 

 May 5. Abdication of Charles IV. Of Spain and his son in favour of Napoleon. 

 July Commencement of the Peninsular War. 

1809. April Alliance of England and Austria against France. 

 May Napoleon defeats the Austrians and enters Vienna. 

 Oct. 14. Peace of Vienna signed. 

 Dec. 16. Divorce of the Emperor and the Empress Josephine decreed by the Senate. 

1810. April 1. Marriage of Napoleon to Marie Louise of Austria. 

 July 9. Holland united to France. 

1811. Mar. 20. Birth of the King of Rome (Napoleon II. ). 

1812. June 22. War with Russia declared. 

 Oct. The retreat from Moscow. 

1813. Mar. Alliance of Austria, Russia, and Prussia against France. 

 Oct. 7. British enter France. 

1814. Mar. 31. Surrender of Paris to the Allies. 

1814. April 5. Abdication of Napoleon negotiated. 

 May 3. Restoration of the Bourbon dynasty. Louis XVIII. Arrives at Paris. 

 May 4. Napoleon arrives at Elba. 

 May 29. Death of Josephine. 

1815. Mar. 1. Napoleon escapes from Elba and lands at Cannes. 

 Mar. 20. Napoleon arrives at Fontainebleau. 

 Mar. 22. Napoleon is joined by all the Army. 

 Mar. The Allies sign a treaty against him. 

 Mar. 29. Napoleon abolishes the slave trade. 

 June 12. Napoleon leaves Paris for the Army. 

 June 18. Battle of Waterloo. 

 June 20. Napoleon returns to Paris. 

 June 22. Abdicates in favour of his son. 

 July 3. He arrives at Rochefort, intending to embark for America. 

 July 3. Louis XVIII. Re-enters Paris. 

 July 15. Napoleon surrenders to Captain Maitland, of the _Bellerophon_, at Rochefort. 

 Aug. 8. Is transferred at Torbay to the _Northumberland_, and, with Admiral Sir George Cockburn, sails for St. Helena. 

 Oct. 15. Arrives at St. Helena, to remain for life. 

 Dec. 7. Execution of Marshal Ney. 

1816. Jan. 12. Family of Bonaparte excluded _for ever_ from France by the Law of Amnesty. 

1821. May 5. Death of Napoleon. 

1836. Oct. 29. Attempted insurrection by Louis Napoleon (afterwards Emperor). 

1837. May 8. Amnesty proclaimed for political offences. 

1838. "Idees Napoleoniennes" published by Prince Louis Napoleon. 

1840. May 12. The Chambers decree the removal of Napoleon's remains from St. Helena. 

 Oct. 15. Exhumation of Napoleon's remains. 

 Nov. 30. Arrival of _Belle Poule_ frigate at Cherbourg with remains on board. 

1840. Dec. 15. Remains deposited in the Hôtel des Invalides. [33]

 Aug. 6. Descent of Louis Napoleon, General Montholon, and fifty followers at Vimeraux, near Boulogne. 

 Oct. 6. The Prince captured and sentenced to imprisonment for life. 

1841. Aug. 15. Bronze statue of Napoleon placed on the column of the Grande Armée, Boulogne. 

1846. May 25. Louis Napoleon escapes from Ham. 

1847. Oct. 10. Jerome Bonaparte returns to France, after an exile of thirty-two years. 

1848. June 13. Election of Louis Napoleon to the National Assembly. 

 Sept. 26. Louis Napoleon takes his seat in the National Assembly. 

1857. Longwood, the residence of Napoleon Bonaparte at St. Helena, bought for 180, 000 francs. 

1860. June 24. Jerome Bonaparte (the Emperor's uncle) dies, aged 76. 

1861. Mar. 31. Napoleon's body finally placed in the crypt of the Hôtel des Invalides. 

FOOTNOTES:

[33] The ceremony was witnessed by about 1, 000, 000 persons and 150, 000soldiers assisted at the obsequies. No relatives of the Emperor werepresent, as at this time the various members of the Bonaparte familywere either proscribed and in exile or in prison. 

INDEX

Abrantès, Duke and Duchess of, _see_ JunotActon, Lord, 115Aglietti, Dr. , 157Alexander, _see_ Russia, Emperor ofAmherst, Lord, 48Anne of Russia, Princess, 268Antommarchi, Dr. , 32, 75, 82, 85, 195, 293Archambaud, 171Arnott, Dr. , 85Augereau, General, 156, 176Austria, Commissioner for, 45, 49Austria, Emperor of, 49, 55, 113, 124, 133, 267, 274

Baranti, M. , 217Barras, "Citizen, " 240, 241, 251Bathurst, Lord, 34, 35, 45, 70, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 103, 181, 184Beauharnais, Alexandre, 231, 232, 234, 235Beauharnais, Eugene, 235, 240, 254, 283, 285Beauharnais, Hortense, 116, 232, 235, 254, 262, 279, 280, 283, 285Beauharnais, Marquis de, 231, 232Beauterne, M. , 293Beauvais, Bishop of, 104Bernadotte, Marshal, 175, 273Berthier, General, 153, 176Bertrand, Count, 15, 34, 51, 57, 139, 171, 172, 195, 290Bertrand, Madame, 72Bessières, General, 153Bismarck, Prince von, 166Blücher, Marshal, 189Bombelles, M. De, 158Bonaparte, Caroline, 246Bonaparte, Joseph, 49, 115, 172, 244, 245, 262Bonaparte, Leon, 263, 264Bonaparte, Louis, 262Bonaparte, Lucien, 254, 262Bonaparte, Madame Mère, 146 _et seq. _Bonaparte, Napoleon, 15, 19, 32, 35, 37, 40, 44, 48, 50, 58, 73, 75, 83, 84, 85, 105, 106, 108, 116, 117, 120, 121, 122, 124, 126, 127, 128, 139, 155, 160, 162, 172, 194, 201, 206, 207, 210, 213, 221, 240, 241, 243, 247, 250, 252, 253, 254, 257, 259, 261, 265, 267, 271, 277, 281, 284, 286, 288 _et seq. _; on the Christian religion, 293 _et seq. _Bonaparte, Pauline, 116, 249, 250Borghesi, Countess Pauline, 83Bourrienne, M. , 113, 128, 129, 162, 177Browning, Oscar, 117Brutus, Marcus, 124Bülow, von, 189Burton, Dr. , 85Byron, Lord, 191, 199 _et seq. _, 216

Cadoudal, 262Cæsar, Julius, 123Camerata, Countess Napoleone, 145Carlyle, Jane, 84Carlyle, Thomas, 163Carnot, 241, 244Cases, Count Las, 34, 64, 65, 68, 70, 75, 171, 195Castlereagh, Lord, 45, 80, 103, 181Catherine of Westphalia, 153, 154Charles, Hippolyte, 249, 250, 251, 252Charles VII. , 105, 106Charles X. , 168Cipriani, 54Cockburn, Captain, 27, 34Collot, 253Colonna, Count, _see_ Walewska, AlexanderColonna, Signor Simeon, 82Commissioners of the Powers, 45, 49Compoint, Louise, 246Conquereau, l'Abbé, 171Constant, Benjamin, 123, 207, 213, 215, 216Corvisat, Dr. , 286Coulon Brothers, 128Cromwell, Oliver, 90

Davoust, Marshal, 176Denuelle, Madame Eleanore, 263Desaix, General, 153Dietrichstein, Count, 137Documents, _see_ Official DocumentsDottot, M. , 258Duroc, Marshal, 126, 153

Editor of _Edinburgh Review_, 50Eliot, George, 216d'Enghien, Due, 51, 262

Fesch, Cardinal, 150Flachats, MM. , 261Forsyth, William, 36, 76, 91, 99, 100, 101, 179, 192, 196Fouché, M. , 128, 129, 176, 206, 261, 263, 277, 284Fox, Charles James, 92, 93France, Commissioner for, 45, 49, 72Francis, _see_ Austria, Emperor ofFrederick of Prussia, 49, 162Frederick the Great, 163Freron, M. , 250

George I. , 162, 287George IV. , 33, 70, 94, 95, 117, 180, 201, 287Gohier, M. , 256Gorrequer, Major, 99, 100Gourgaud, General, 29, 53, 65, 75, 77, 78, 80, 81, 112, 139, 171, 179, 193, 194, 195, 207, 288, 289Granville, Earl, 19Grouchy, Marshal, 189, 191Guizot, M. , 17

Hanover, Elector of, 162Henin, General, 190Henry, Mr. , 99, 100Henry VIII. , 287Hill, General Lord, 189Hoche, General, 240Holland, Lady, 49, 57Holland, Lord, 80, 89Hooper, 61Horeau, Dr. , 286

Jersey, Lady, 201Joan of Arc, 104, 106, 153Joinville, Prince, 26, 171, 173Josephine, 101, 118, 155, 210, 220, 231 _et seq. _Jourdan, General, 176Junot, Marshal, 127, 245, 246

Keith, Lord, 21, 65, 66, 120, 121, 122, 124Kellerman, General, 242, 243Kleber, General, 153

La Fayette, 156Lallemand, 65Las Cases, _see_ Cases, LasLeclerc, General, 249, 250Lenz, Dr. Max, 193, 198, 209Liverpool, Lord, 80, 103, 181Livingstone, Dr. , 85Louis Philippe, 16, 21 _et seq. _, 138, 168, 169, 171, 172Louis XVI. , 126, 270Louis XVIII. , 94, 168Lowe, Sir Hudson, 27, 32, 34, 35, 38, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 47, 49, 50, 51, 57, 62, 63, 64, 65, 72, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 88, 99, 103, 178, 180, 182, 183, 184, 185, 188, 191, 194, 195, 196

Macaulay, Lord, 162Macdonald, Marshal, 176Maceroni, Colonel, 75Manning, Mr. , 57Mair, Dr. Alexander, 293Maitland, Captain, 63, 65, 66, 118Marchand, M. , 75, 156, 171, 290Marie Antoinette, 270Marie Caroline, Queen, 158Marie Louise, 49, 85, 131, 137, 146, 151 _et seq. _, 267, 270, 274, 276, 286Marmont, General, 132, 134, 135, 156, 176, 247Masséna, General, 153, 176Masson, F. , 118, 234, 235, 264Mecklenburg, Prince of, 284Melito, Miot de, 128Meneval, 156, 159, 189, 190, 267, 278Metternich, Count, 133, 136, 138, 143, 144, 276, 277Miguel, Dom, 132Montchenu, Marquis de, 45, 49, 72Montholon, Count, 15, 34, 39, 40, 43, 50, 51, 65, 75, 82, 83, 88, 139, 172, 195, 289, 290, 293Montholon, Countess, 58Moreau, M. , 262Müller, 109, 110, 111Murat, Marshal, 153, 245, 246, 271

Napoleon, Charles, Prince, 262Napoleon I. , _see_ Bonaparte, NapoleonNapoleon II. , _see_ Rome, King ofNapoleon III. , 118, 142, 275, 276Napoleon, Prince Louis, 132, 135, 146, 172, 265Neipperg, Count, 49, 133, 137, 152, 156 _et seq. _, 274Ney, Marshal, 153Noverraz, 171

Obenaus, Baron, 133, 137, 142Official Documents, 15, 17, 18, 20, 21 _et seq. _, 81, 82, 83, 95, 197O'Meara, Dr. Barry E. , 30, 43, 46, 49, 50, 64, 73, 77, 79, 81, 181, 188, 195, 241Orange, Prince of, 162Oudinot, Marshal, 176

Pagerie, Joseph Tascher de la, 232Palmerston, Lord, 17, 20, 169Peel, Sir Robert, 186Permon, Madame, 127Philipon, Jeanne Marie, 236, 237Pichegru, 267Pieron, 171Pitt, William, 93Pius VII. , 148, 150Plampin, Sir Robert, 195, 196Poppleton, Captain, 61Prokesch, Count, 136, 137, 142, 143Prussia, Commissioner for, 45, 49Prussia, King of, _see_ Frederick

Radowich, Gunner, 57Reade, Sir Thomas, 41, 42, 43, 50, 62, 63Reggio, Duchess of, 279Remusat, Charles de, 219Remusat, Madame de, 129, 219 _et seq. _, 284Remusat, M. De, 220, 221Remusat, Paul de, 219Robespierre, 213, 235, 237Rocca, M. , 214 _et seq. _Roderer, M. , 114Rome, King of, 49, 57 _et seq. _, 131 _et seq. _, 278Rosebery, Lord, 193, 288, 289Rovigo, Duke of, 65, 139Ruskin, John, 196Russia, Commissioner for, 45, 49Russia, Emperor of, 49, 65, 124, 279, 280, 282

Saint-Denis, 171Samson (M. De Paris), 237Santini, 54, 55, 56, 75Scott, Sir Walter, 28, 90, 91, 122, 182, 184Seguier, M. , 115Serbelloni, Duke of, 247Short, Dr. , 85Somerset, Lord Charles, 68, 69Soult, Marshal, 176, 190Staël, Madame de, 129, 204 _et seq. _, 279Stokoe, Dr. John, 195, 196Strange, Sir Thomas, 42

Taine, M. , 144Talleyrand, M. , 128, 129, 156, 161, 176, 206, 251, 261, 263Teynham, Lord, 187Thiers, M. , 17

Vandamme, General, 190Villemarest, 129Volney, Senator, 116

Walewska, Alexander (Count Colonna), 269, 278Walewska, Madame, 118, 267, 269, 278Wellington, Duke of, 31, 103, 186, 187, 188, 189, 216Wieland, 108, 111Whitworth, Lord, 117Wilhelmina of Prussia, 163Williams, H. Noel, 148Wolseley, Lord, 191Wordsworth, William, 200