Napoleon

by Emil Ludwig

  A stream of confessions is forcing a way for itself. The words have come down to us in the memoirs of the man who heard them ; of course the speaker would have denied them, had the hearer then ventured to repeat them. But it is true that he is far from being satisfied with what he has hitherto achieved. Seated beside Bourrienne in the carriage in which he is driving away from Italy after a stay of nearly two years, he says : " A few more campaigns like this, and we shall have made a fairly great name for ourselves, a name that will go down to posterity." When his friend interposes that Bonaparte has already secured a notable reputation, the commander laughs him to scorn :

  " You flatter me, Bourrienne ! If I die to-day, ten centuries hence my record will not occupy more than half a page in universal history ! "

  XI

  The Luxembourg palace has been transformed into an amphitheatre. Weapons and colours, the latest trophies, are displayed, side by side with the gold-blazoned slogans of the revolution, on the venerable walls within which, of old, the satellite peers used to circle round their central luminary, the king of France. Paris has assembled, and all are dressed in gala attire, as if for a May Day festival—though it is chill December. The front seats are filled with pretty women, friends of the men in power, for they want to get a close view of the little commander with the leathery yellow skin, the hero of the occasion.

  " He has already been a week in Paris, and not a soul has set eyes on him. Why does he modestly shun the acclamations of his people ? "

  Talleyrand's Enigmatic Tribute

  " There is the signal for the entry ! Look, the five Directors are coming on to the platform ! "

  The chorus sings the anthem of liberty, the crowd joining in the refrain. A pause. The sound of clanking sabres and clinking spurs is heard upon the perron without. People crane from the windows, look down from the roofs. He is coming! He is coming!

  Napoleon wears a field uniform, for this looks less pretentious. His mien is grave and unassuming, as with firm step he strides along the gangway to the dais. He carries a roll of paper, and three adjutants follow in his train. But, as well as these, hard upon the heels of the plainly uniformed little figure with the martial gait, comes a man wearing silk stockings, and replendent in gold lace ; he walks with a limp. At this moment, a cannon shot is heard, the first shot of a salute ; the sometime lieutenant of artillery is being honoured in appropriate fashion. Thunders of applause shake the building, and are echoed outside by the thousands who are waiting to greet Napoleon on his departure. Quiet once more. Talleyrand is speaking. Brilliantly, smoothly, with undercurrents of meaning which few can understand, he praises the classical simplicity of their great general, the saviour of his country, who scorns pomp, and is a servant of the things of the spirit. The minister closes with the words : " All France will be free ; save only him, perhaps—that is his destiny."

  Applause, as usual; but is there one among these thousands, even among those in the inner councils, who realises the profound truth of the closing phrase ? Does any one of the auditors feel the poignancy of the satire ?

  Napoleon quietly comes to the front. What is he going to say?

  " The French nation had to fight with its kings in order to win freedom. . . . Religion, feudalism, monarchy, have in turn ruled Europe for two thousand years. The era of democratic constitutions has only just begun. It has been your achievement

  A Menacing Ring

  to extend the domain of the Great Nation to its natural frontiers. You have done more. The two loveliest countries of Europe, renowned for science, art, and genius, see the spirit of freedom, buoyed up by hope, rising out of the tombs of their ancestors. These are the pedestals on which two mighty nations are uplifted. I have the honour to present you the treaty of Campo Formic, ratified by Emperor Francis. ... As soon as the fortunes of the French nation are established upon the best organic laws, Europe, too, will be free."

  The soldierly voice is silent. For a moment, not a sound is to be heard. Then come salvos of applause. Are they applauding the speech ? It lacks the charm of the popular orations and the speeches from the tribune with which the walls of Paris are often placarded. The hearers are astonished ; many of them are positively amazed. Alarm and veneration are the prevailing sentiments. The applause is not for the speech, but for the man. He has spoken on many fronts, has harangued a crowd in Corsica, but has never before addressed society folk, or politicians.

  His speech was that of a statesman. At first perhaps not a soul but Talleyrand understood it. All that he had said of their own epoch, seemed false. England and America had been democracies for many, many years. France had been fighting nearly a decade for her recognition as a democracy. Now, at last, recognition had come, in this peace with Germany. There was the tangible proof of it in the parchment which betokened peace on the Continent.

  But the story was not finished—such was the implied menace that sounded, with a metallic ring, from the concluding words of the statesman hidden in the soldier. The Directors understood his meaning, knew that the threat was for them. But Barras pulled himself together, delivered a fulsome speech, and then, for the first and last time embraced the little general, whose wife he would infinitely rather have held in his arms.

  Josephine, where was Josephine ? Why was she absent on

  A French Characterisation

  the great occasion ? No one knows with certainty how or where she spent these weeks. She did not reach Paris until a month after Napoleon. When she came, she was serene, charming, rather tired. In Paris, she promptly resumed her old life, and took up the threads of some of her old amours.

  Meanwhile, another woman had entered Napoleon's orbit. She was handsome, but was too intelligent to please him. This was Necker's daughter, Madame de Stael. An influential woman, as well as an interesting; it was at her suggestion that Talleyrand had been appointed Minister for Foreign Affairs. She besieged Bonaparte with letters ; she would fain have harnessed him to her chariot wheels, but he jibbed at the prospect. Now, when she had met him in the flesh, he parried her advances with a few civilities ; but he could not prevent this talented woman from seeing further into his mind than most men had succeeded in doing. Here is her pen picture of the commander, an early impression :

  " His face is thin and pale, but not unpleasing. Being short of stature, he looks better on horseback than on foot. In social life, he has rather awkward manners, though he is by no means shy. When he is on the alert, he is a little contemptuous in his bearing; whereas his natural demeanour is a trifle common. The contemptuous pose suits him better. . . . When he is speaking, I am enthralled by an impression of his pre-eminence, though he has none of the qualities of the men of the study and of society. If he recounts his personal experiences, he often discloses the lively imagination of an Italian. . . . But I always become aware of a profound irony, which nothing escapes, neither the sublime, nor the beautiful, nor even his own fame. ... I have known not a few men of note, some of them savage by disposition, but the dread with which this man fills me is a thing apart. He is neither good nor bad, neither gentle nor cruel. He is unique ; he can neither inspire nor feel affection ; he is more and less than a man. Character, mind, speech—all have a strange stamp. This

  A German Characterisation

  very strangeness helps him to win over the French.

  " He neither hates nor loves ; for him, no one exists but himself; all other people are merely 'number so-and-so.' A great chess-player, for whom humanity-at-large is the adversary he hopes to checkmate. His success is quite as much due to the qualities he lacks as to the qualities he possesses. . . . Where his own interest is involved, he pursues it as the just man seeks virtue ; if his aim were good, his perseverance would be exemplary. ... He despises the nation whose applause he seeks ; there is not a spark of fervour intermingled with his craving to astound mankind. ... I have never been able to breathe freely in his presence."

  If we discount in these sentences all that may reasonably be regarded as due to the mo
rtified vanity of a notable and much admired woman, enough will still remain to be worthy of careful study. Each moment she tries to pierce his armour, only in the next breath to acknowledge herself his prisoner. She moves in a Rousseauist world of abstract virtue and goodness, with which a dictator can have nothing to do, and she therefore cannot regard Bonaparte with enthusiasm ; but nevertheless she foresees his aim, which was not publicly disclosed till near the end of his career, and hers is the credit of having been the first to recognise his genius.

  " Picture to yourself a little man," writes a German at this date in one of his letters home. " No taller than Frederick the Great; very regularly and slenderly built; lean, but sturdy ; a large head ; high forehead ; dark-grey eyes ; thick, dark-brown hair; Grecian nose, so long that it almost hangs down over the mouth ; his mouth is full of humaneness and grace; the firm chin is rather prominent. His movements are brisk, but he has a fine and dignified bearing. You may see him run down a long staircase in five or six strides, and yet, as he finishes the last stride, he stands before you as graceful as ever. Unless he is fixing his gaze upon some object he particularly wishes to

  Oriental Lavishness

  examine, he is generally looking upwards. It was always a delight to me to contemplate his beautiful, deep, sensitive eyes, at once severe and kindly, like those of our own Frederick."

  XII

  On his way to Paris, Napoleon had had to spend a few days in Rastatt, to discuss with the imperial envoys certain details connected with the carrying out of the peace treaty and the evacuation of Mainz. Here, expected with mingled curiosity and scepticism, he had assumed royal airs. He had alternately scolded and made much of the envoys, as best suited his plans at the moment, giving one of these Austrian counts a watch and the other a jewelled hat-buckle. " The two poor envoys were amazed that I had so much money to spend, for they were as poor as church mice."

  This oriental lavishness in present-giving, the outcome of kindliness quite as much as of arrogance, will be a persistent characteristic. He will become known as a caliph who loves to shower gifts, displaying a mingled disdain and generosity which throw a searching light upon his own spiritual make-up. But if he has to acknowledge some genuine service, then this same man (who from underlings exposed to danger demands scrupulous exactitude in the fulfilment of duty) will express his thanks in the most courtly fashion, as if. he were one of Arthur's knights, and the world a jousting-place. The warrior who has captured so many of the enemy colours is given one of the flags from Areola, as a keepsake. He passes it on to General Lannes, writing:

  " At Areola, there was a moment when the fortune of the day was so uncertain that nothing but the utmost bravery on the part of the leaders could have saved the situation. Thereupon, bleeding from three terrible wounds, you left the field hospital, resolved to conquer or die. Again and again I saw you in the foremost ranks of the brave. You were the first... to cross the

  Leads a Retired Life

  Adda. Yours must be the honour of owning and guarding this glorious flag."

  He knows exactly how his words will affect the people of Paris. If he makes a public display of such expressions of approval, he is just as sedulous to draw near to the footlights when he has to censure or to condemn. That is one of the tricks of his trade.

  Now, he is careful to behave in such a way that all Paris, every one of his opponents, the whole press, shall exclaim : " The modesty of true greatness ! " Twice more, during these days, he makes ceremonial appearances, one of them being at a festival held in his honour by Talleyrand. He had hastened to pay his respects to the Minister for Foreign Affairs on the day after his return to Paris. Neither of them had as yet disclosed his ultimate plans, but Bonaparte, in his dealings with this scion of the old nobility, had not forgotten to speak of his own exalted antecedents. " You are the nephew of the archbishop of Rheims," he had said in the first half hour. " One of my uncles, who helped in my education, is an archdeacon— in Corsica, you know, that means much the same as being a bishop in France." In this way Napoleon implied that he was no parvenu whom a man of ancient lineage was, in his heart, entitled to despise. From the first, he looked upon Talleyrand as a possible antagonist.

  He has bought the little house in which Josephine used to live. Here he leads a retired life, with his wife, who has at length arrived in Paris. His circle is small, consisting of his brothers and a few friends who come and go. He often wears mufti, drives out alone, avoids parties, is easy of access. When he is cheered at the theatre, he draws back into the recesses of his box. This is the man who, a little while ago at Montebello, was keeping up a princely state. " If I am seen three or four times at the theatre, people will cease to notice me," he says to an intimate. " You expect me to be pleased by such public

  " / Must Not Stay Here "

  demonstrations ? There would be quite as big a crowd to see me guillotined! "

  He invites men of learning to his house ; attends most of the sittings of the Institute, and is willing to read a paper there now and again ; discusses mathematics after dinner with Laplace, and shows the astronomer new Italian methods of calculating orbits ; argues with Chenier about poetry, and even metaphysics (if he can't help himself!).

  But he silently follows, all this time, every move made by the Directors, whose power is continually on the wane. Knowing them to be his secret enemies, he keeps out of their path, and has them watched by his brothers. He gathers information as to the relative strength of the various parties, and ponders his own course. " Paris has no memory. A new reputation drives out an old one ; and if I linger here inactive, I shall be lost. I must not stay here." Often he walks to and fro in the garden, arms locked behind, thinking.

  " Too soon. Better wait until they have made a complete mess of things. Become their colleague, a member of the Directory, just when the pillars are cracking ? A good thing that I am not yet forty, as the law demands. Meanwhile, I must capture the fancy of the crowd ! How ? There is peace throughout the Continent. Hardly a rival left to dread. Hoche, the most dangerous of them, is dead, thanks be ! One of Josephine's lovers ; a handsome fellow, certainly. His passing troubled her little ; she is inconstant by nature. Carnot thrust aside, Moreau defeated. Augereau, in command of the Army of the Rhine, is jealous of me ; I must put a spoke in his wheel. The Corsican stalwarts have little influence now; but that woman who came to warn me against the risk of poisoning was stabbed next day; there are conspiracies. Too soon. I must leave Paris once more.

  " Get to work against England ? That would be the best plan, if only these idiots had not allowed the navy to get into so wretched a condition ! I've been worrying them about the matter

  An Undermined Marriage

  ever since the siege of Toulon. During the naval war of the last five years, we've lost half a dozen sea-fights. What about invasion ? If only that were possible ! Any one who could defeat England would be master of the world. Sail along the coast, study the possibilities, and then, if there seems no chance of a successful landing on the other side of the Channel, back to the Mediterranean ! Only there, in the East, can I throw off all restraint, and keep France a-quiver with curiosity and excitement, Egypt's the place, in the footsteps of Alexander ; and there we can strike England a shrewd blow ! "

  After long preparations, the general visits Dunkirk and the Flemish coast. He asks questions wherever he goes, not forgetting to cross-examine fishermen and smugglers. Returning unexpectedly, he gives Josephine a fright, but it escapes his notice that she hastens to pen a few lines to the secretary of an old flame. In his campaigns, hundreds of spies have brought him secret missives ; what would he say if he could read this one ? " Bonaparte has come back this evening. Please tell Barras how sorry I am that I cannot come to supper after all. Say that he is not to forget me. You know better than any one what my position is.—La Pagerie Bonaparte."

  Thus undermined is the marriage in which he still puts his trust. Thus equivocal is the position of Barras, the impotent Director, who hate
s and mistrusts the mighty commander of the forces. Thus nonchalant is Josephine, as with carefree heart she makes her way through society, passing her time in women's boudoirs and men's bedrooms—and, among the men, she has to put up with Bonaparte, although when she signs her married name she prefixes to it her maiden name, as though she were still mistress of her own destinies and free to choose her lover.

  No doubt Barras is cursing Bonaparte this evening, but next day the general writes to him and the other Directors a long report, which begins as follows : " Even with our best efforts, it will take us several years to get the upper hand at sea. The

  Egyptian Plan

  invasion of England would be a desperate venture ; it will only be possible if we take the islanders by surprise. . . . We shall need long nights, so it must be in winter. Consequently we cannot make the attempt till next year. Before then, it is likely enough that hindrances will have arisen on the Continent. Perhaps the great moment has been lost for ever."

  After this amazingly perspicacious renunciation of his scheme for the invasion of England, he goes on to formulate a yet more amazing plan for achieving the same end by other means. Substantially, he proposes eight naval campaigns, ranging from Spain to Holland, all the political conditions and consequences being carefully considered. If, however, ships and money are not forthcoming, the next best expedient will be to attack English commerce, beginning in Egypt, whence Bonaparte could get back to direct further operations against England.

  Enough for the Directors to hear the word Egypt, and they are ready to agree to this last plan. He shall have the command there, and all the help they can give. So dangerous a man as this—the farther away he is, the better! Best of all would be, to make an end of him !

  The Egyptian plan is not new ; it has been mooted at intervals for years. Talleyrand had brought it forward in connection with Bonaparte's letter, though his comment had been : " The leader of this campaign would not need to be a man of exceptional military talent." Was this remark prompted by a wish to keep Bonaparte in France, or was it nothing more than a spiteful innuendo ? However that may be, the talented commander, when he read the words at a much later date, wrote in the margin : " Crazy ! " But we anticipate. He drafted the terms of his own nomination as chief of the Army in the East : plenipotentiary powers ; a commission to take Malta and Egypt, to drive the English from the Red Sea, to cut a canal through the Isthmus of Suez in order that France may be secure in the possession of the Red Sea.