Napoleon

by Emil Ludwig

  Loneliness

  beneath which two badly powdered ' dog's ears ' project, scurf upon his collar, his ungloved hands are long and lean and dark, ill-fitting boots."

  He now plans a book traffic with foreign lands ; but his first attempt, with a consignment to Basle, miscarries.

  Sometimes he visits drawing-rooms, for, as he writes to his brother, every one here seeks distraction. . . . There are women all over the place, at the theatre, in the Bois, at the Library. The prettiest of girls are to be found in the studies of the learned. Indeed, it is right that women should rule here, for the men are infatuated, living only through and for women.

  When Buonaparte is in the salon of Barras, the tribune (who outdoes himself in splendour and extravagance, so that all Paris talks ; who can never have enough women round him), when he stands there among women famous for their beauty like Tallien and Recamier, he, who is small and gloomy and angular, can only make an impression by cleverness and caprice. Even then he seems a freak.

  Always the solitary, he only " lets himself go " in his long letters to his brothers. He is educating Louis, and writes: " The lad is a good soldier. What especially pleases me is that he combines so many excellent qualities : ardour, spirit, health, talent, trustworthiness, good-nature. ... He will certainly be the best of us four. Of course, none of us have enjoyed his advantages in the matter of education." He is thinking of having Jerome, the youngest, sent to Paris. He is at odds with Lucien. This talented brother is his rival. Indeed, Lucien vies with Napoleon in his knowledge of men, was the first to understand Napoleon, did so already when he was seventeen while his brother was twenty-three. " In Napoleon," wrote young Lucien to Joseph, " I detect an ambition which is not wholly selfish, but is greater than his love for the public welfare. In a free State he would certainly be a dangerous man. He seems to me inclined to become a despot. I think he would become one, were he king. At any rate, his name would be a terror to posterity and to

  " Life Is a Trivial Dream "

  sensitive patriots." In Lucien's mouth, such grandiose vaticination is no mere playing with words. His own ambition is so intense that in this age and country he regards a development of the kind as quite possible for his brother, and he is mortifiedat the prospect that Napoleon is likely to outshine him.

  For the nonce, Napoleon is in low spirits. He envies Joseph, whom money and happiness have made independent. He offers Joseph support in the way of introductions and papers; advises him to use the depreciated currency for the economical purchase of an estate. Yet we find him already writing to his elder brother, apropos of a letter on political questions : " Your letter was too dry; you must learn to write better than that."

  A home! He wants a home of his own, like Joseph. More eagerly in each successive letter he urges Joseph to make sure for him of the wealthy sister-in-law, with whom he has been in affectionate correspondence for more than a year. When she is slow to make up her mind, he presses for a decision. His brother and one of his intimate friends have married well; comrades of his own age occupy prominent positions. Only he, with his surging thoughts and imaginative schemes, remains lonely and does nothing.

  " If you are going away for a long time," he writes to Joseph, " send me your portrait. We have lived so long in close companionship that our hearts are intertwined. No one knows better than you how wholly I am yours. As I write these lines, I am more moved than almost ever before, feeling that it will be long before we meet again. I cannot write any more. Farewell, mon ami."

  He is in a melting mood, and at times he seems utterly discouraged. " To clamber upwards from step to step, this is rather like an adventurer, like a man who is trying to make happiness." Finally he says : " Life is a trivial dream, which fades away. . ."

  Turn of Fortune's Wheel

  XIII

  Suddenly everything is in a flux. A new Minister for War has been appointed, and he is eager to effect changes on the Italian front. Does any one know of a new man to whom the command there can be entrusted ? The enquiry passes from one to another, until some one recommends Buonaparte. He is summoned to the War Office. For years he has been making himself familiar with the Italian coast and the Italian frontier, and forthwith he expounds a detailed plan for a campaign in northern Italy, against Sardinia and Austria. It is substantiated by a display of intimate knowledge of the Alpine passes ; of the weather and the snows ; of seedtime and harvest; of the administration, the temperament, and the characteristics of the territories and the populations concerned. After the conquest of Lombardy, between February and July, the powerful position of Mantua must be wrested from the Austrians. Then the Army of Italy must move northward, and in Tyrol must effect a junction with the sister army, the Army of the Rhine. The joint forces will threaten Vienna and this will compel the emperor to accept a peace which will fulfil all that France has been expecting or imagining for years past.

  Overwhelmed by the cataract that issues from his brain, the minister can only say: " Your ideas, General, are equally brilliant and bold. We must examine them closely. Write a report for the committee. You can take your time."

  " My plan is ready now. I can write it down in half an hour."

  " A notable design," say the members of the Committee of Public Safety when the report has been read to them ; " notable, even if impracticable." In any case, such an intelligence as this must be utilised in the Operations Department. A few days afterwards he has a seat in this department, where everything is decided.

  The great moment has come, the turning-point of his youth. At length he stands on the threshold of his career. The chance

  Dreams of Asiatic Conquests

  has come suddenly, for everything is sudden in this eruptive era. From now, when he is barely twenty-six, he will for twenty years, with unremitting vigour, move onwards towards his goal, drawing the chain of thought and action after him. Suddenly, twenty years hence, the chain will snap.

  Napoleon's work begins. With burning energy, attending carefully to little things because his aim is the greatest of things, he devotes himself to " affairs." The veil is lifted, for here he finds the most secret reports concerning all the armies of the republic. At the same time, his daily association with the leading civilian figures in France gives him authority. The suggestive influence of his personality makes itself felt.

  What is the first thing he aspires to gain for himself ? Neither the command in Vendee nor the command of the Army of the Rhine. These are attainable, tangible magnitudes. Here, at the centre of all the real fronts, nothing allures him so much as the thought of a command which as yet lives only in his imagination ; in a battle-ground which does not exist, but which he wants to create to-day, and which he will again want to create seventeen years hence. Asia ! Directly he gets to work at the centre of things, he begins to emphasise the importance of galvanising Turkey into activity, of introducing artillery and the modern art of war on the Bosphorus, for in due time they can from that centre be used against the Russians and the Austrians. In fancy, he already sees himself conversing with the sultan, beyond reach of the eyes of these everlasting republicans, in an obscure and closed country into which the doctrine of liberty has never made its way—a land where a man can still do whatever he pleases. Twelve days after his entry into the ministry, he asks to be transferred to Turkey.

  The application is refused. Powerful opponents are already beginning to be afraid of this man. They want to get him out of the War Office ; to send him to the front. His protest takes a new tone. As if he were foreseeing all the successes that are still hidden in his own heart, he begins to dictate. " General

  Rising in Paris

  Buonaparte, who commands the artillery under the most critical circumstances and has contributed to the greatest successes, expects from the justice of the members of the Committee that they shall reinstate him in his functions, and shall spare him the distress of seeing his position usurped by men who have always kept themselves in the background, . . . but who now press forward t
o snatch the fruits of victories whose dangers they well knew how to avoid."

  In the third person, in the iron style of the historian. Roman.

  It avails nothing. Once more the insubordinate officer's name is struck from the lists, and for a second time he has to yield. But he feels that his hour draws nigh; nothing, now, can seriously shake his position. A fresh change of government is at hand. Announcing to his brother the impending transformation, he says that he himself is in the good graces of all the party leaders who will have military posts at their disposal. " The prospect is rosy. Even were it otherwise, a man must live in the present. He who has courage, despises the future."

  Because he despises it, it serves him. Henceforward, men will serve him for the same reason.

  A fortnight after this letter had been written, a conflict broke out between the government and the moderates, who were backed by the royalists. Once more, there was fighting on the boulevards, as there had been three years earlier. The National Guard is four times as strong as the governmental forces. Either from caution or from cowardice, the general of the Convention parleys with the leaders of the Guard. He is declared a traitor, and placed under arrest. The Convention meets in a panic. It is defenceless, intimidated by the left-wing and right-wing revolutionaries, who, for various reasons, have joined forces.

  In the evening, Buonaparte hastens to the Convention, for a successor to the arrested general is needed, and he learns that the name of one of his rivals has been proposed. The heart of

  General Against People

  the silent onlooker beats furiously. Will his name now be mentioned ? If he is asked to take command, shall he accept a task which he had refused in the days when Robespierre was supreme ? Does not every one who leads soldiers against the people make himself hated, precisely because of his success ? " Appoint Buonaparte ! " Yes, his name has come up. " I turned the matter over in my mind for nearly half an hour." Such a mission will not bring renown, but it will bring power. He presents himself before the committee. It is past midnight; the tumult is expected to begin early next morning; everything must be ready within a few hours.

  In this situation, he demands that he shall be absolutely free from civilian supervision. This seems a monstrous request to make of the revolution, one of whose new principles it is to lay especial stress upon supervision of the dreaded military arm. " If you appoint me, I shall be responsible, and must have a free hand. To-day, it was the fault of the people's commissaries that the general found himself in so precarious a position. Do you expect that the people will give us permission to open fire upon the people ? " The only man he will share the command with is Barras, who is the most powerful among the leaders, but is in his hands. The minutes are passing. There is no choice.— Buonaparte was entrusted with the defence of the government, a fortnight after his name had been erased from the list of general officers.

  For seven years the Parisian populace, when roused to action, has had to encounter nothing more than extemporised opposition. That is why the revolution has always made headway. Buonaparte is the first to prepare for the struggle. In one night, he transforms the Convention into a fortress. Even the alarmed deputies are supplied with weapons. They are still more frightened when they hear talk of cannon.

  A young cavalry officer, Murat by name, undertakes to bring forty big guns from the suburbs. Murat thus opens a great career on the same day as his chief. Out in the streets he finds the

  Street Fighting

  masses, who are likewise on the prowl for artillery. Buonaparte cannot protect the Convention without ordnance. There are hours of tension, during which he must tranquilly devote himself to the disposition of his slender forces. At length, at five in the morning, he hears the rattling wheels of his old friends the big guns. Murat's men were mounted, and they have won the prize. Forward! Within two hours, everything must be ready.

  In well-armed companies, the crowd advances threateningly. The lawyers in the Convention are shaking in their shoes. Speech after speech is made from the tribune, urging a parley, advocating the withdrawal of the troops. In the daylight, the situation is so menacing that the civilians utterly lose heart. They weaken; towards noon, some of the troops want to fraternise with the people. Night is falling. Now or never! Is the commander to allow the mob to triumph ? In like circumstances, he had laughed at the weakness of King Louis. Shall he himself play the weakling, when he is in command of the guns ?

  It is probable that Buonaparte ordered the firing of the first shot, or perhaps extorted the order from Barras, although in his report, and subsequently, he declared that his opponents had this " crime against the French people " on their consciences. Anyhow, the firing begins. The big guns win the day ; blood besprinkles the pavements ; the crowd scatters ; in two hours the streets are clear. That night, Napoleon writes to his brother: " At length it is over; my first wish is to send you news . . . We posted our troops, the enemy attacked us in the Tuileries. We killed a lot of them, our own casualties being thirty killed and sixty wounded. We have disarmed the companies of the National Guard, and everything is quiet. As usual, I have escaped without a scratch. Brigadier General Buonaparte. Postscript. Luck is on my side. My compliments to Desiree and Julie."

  This is Napoleon's first bulletin of victory. The enemy are

  Commander of the Forces

  Frenchmen ; the battle-field is Paris; the offenders are revolutionists ; most of the fatalities are on the opposing side ; the signature, which in earlier and subsequent letters consists of nothing but the name, includes, to-day, the writer's military title. Everything is calculated for effect. But his feelings break through, and in the postscript he discloses to his brother the two things he has most at heart: Luck and Woman.

  At a later date he said : " I have two men within me, the man of the head and the man of the heart."

  XIV

  On the tribune of the Convention stands Buonaparte with his officers, hailed by the acclamations of the assembly, to whom the youthful saviour is being presented. He scarcely notices the applause, for such triumphs of the moment seem of little value to him. Coldly surveying the hall, he thinks : " So you are the leaders of the nation. You trembled with fear when you heard the thunder of the guns ! You shall not forget how to tremble ! I have become your protector. I shall go on protecting you until you have become my humble servants."

  As a matter of course, he is appointed to the command of the Army of the Interior. He now has a great following : cashiered officers, who hope to climb in the footsteps of the cashiered general; officials who have dreaded the reaction ; all who feel that they have been rescued. But the crowd must be learning to hate him ; for, in that darkling hour, hundreds of unarmed citizens, idle spectators, women have perished. What is that to him ? It is not his aim to be loved.

  Now, when he suddenly has money and servants and carriages at his disposal, he wants nothing for himself, everything for his kin. His younger brothers are given good positions ; his mother can once more live a life after her own heart, and gratify her taste for saving; Joseph has the offer of several posts ; there are places for the most distant relatives. But the letters become

  Two Rebuffs

  rarer, and the very first of them sounds a new note : " I shall do everything I can to help you, shall spare no effort which can contribute to your happiness." From brother, he has become protector, head of the family.

  During these weeks, when he is tasting the joys of fulfilment, he becomes involved in the only passion of his life.

  Desiree has missed her chance. Only a few weeks before, writing from the office of the general staff, he had implored Joseph to intervene on his behalf, to demand a prompt answer"

  I am burning with desire to have a home of my own." At the same time, in several of his letters, we find more frequent references to charming women, allusions which betray a happy prospect of success. He has come to know la femme de trente ans, in her power and her beauty. He has made advances to two such women, in quick successi
on : one of them a Corsican of noble birth, a friend of his mother's; the other, a pretty cocotte, Chenier's mistress. Both of them are considerably older than he, and neither of them favours his suit. But the atmosphere surrounding these practitioners of the art of love, the electric atmosphere of the new salon, has exercised its influence on him : " A kiss for the two ladies : for the first, on the lips ; for the second, on the cheek." Since he has hitherto known almost nothing of women, his lonely heart is susceptible.

  Immediately after his appointment, the new generalissimo issues a decree against bearing arms. A search is made, and all weapons in civilian hands are confiscated. Now a boy of twelve, with engaging manners, turns up at the general's office with a plea for the return of his dead father's sword, which has been taken away from his mother. Napoleon concedes the point, and shortly afterwards the mother comes to thank him. What an elegant woman—wayward, gracious, captivating! Thirty or more ; who can say ? Not so much beautiful, as enthralling; slender; distinguished, but with a slightly foreign air; the dark skin of the Creole, for she was born in Martinique, though

  Josephine

  brought up in Paris ; and during the days of the Terror she has learned to conquer by her charms.

  When the general pays her a visit at the little house in an out-of-the-way suburb, his eyes, sharpened by his own experience of poverty, detect evidence of an endeavour to put a good face upon poor circumstances. This does not trouble him. An army officer, who now, at the age of twenty-seven, can for the first time dispose of means which enable him to live as he pleases, he prizes money, but he does not prize rich people. Just as in the life of affairs, men can only move him by their capacity, by what they can do; so women can only please him by their capacity—by their personal appearance, their nature, and what they can make of these.