The Napoleon Gallery

I.	The Action at St. Roche’s
II.	Entering Milan
III.	“What a Lesson for Man!”
IV.	The Battle of Rivoli
V.	Napoleon at Lonato
VI.	Defending the Redoubt of Monte Legino
VII.	Preliminaries of the Peace of Leoben
VIII.	Crossing the Bridge at Arcola
IX.	The Cisalpine Republic
X.	The Battle of the Pyramids
XI.	The Revolt of Cairo
XII.	The Fight at Benouth
XIII.	The Speech at the Pyramids
XIV.	“All whom I command are my Children”
XV.	Buonaparte pardoning the Rebels at Cairo
XVI.	The Plague of Jaffa
XVII.	“You are the Greatest of Men!”
XVIII.	Napoleon inscribing his Name on Mount Sinai
XIX.	Napoleon at Malmaison
XX.	The Battle of Marengo
XXI.	The Battle of Aboukir
XXII.	The Review by the First Consul
XXIII.	Buonaparte at Mount St. Bernard
XXIV.	The Death of Desaix
XXV.	The Coronation of Napoleon
XXVI.	The First Corps crossing the Maine
XXVII.	The Fourth Corps at Donawerth
XXVIII.	The Emperor’s Arrival at Augsburg
XXIX.	Napoleon crowned King of Italy
XXX.	Napoleon crossing the Rhine at Kehl
XXXI.	The Fourth Corps entering Augsburg
XXXII.	Napoleon addresses the Army
XXXIII.	The Surrender of Ulm
XXXIV.	Napoleon receiving the Keys of Vienna
XXXV.	The Morning of Austerlitz
XXXVI.	Presentation of Austrian Ensigns to the French Senate
XXXVII.	The Seventy-sixth Regiment recovering its Colors
XXXVIII.	The Night before the Battle of Austerlitz
XXXIX.	The Battle of Austerlitz
XL.	Napoleon’s Interview with the Austrian Emperor
XLI.	Statues on the Column of the Grand Army
XLII.	The Duchess of Weimar and Napoleon
XLIII.	Napoleon receiving the Deputies of the Senate
XLIV.	The Sword of Frederick the Great
XLV.	The Battle of Jena
XLVI.	Marshal Ney at Elchingen
XLVII.	Napoleon’s Clemency
XLVIII.	The Field of Battle at Eylau
XLIX.	The Battle of Friedland
L.	The Simplon Pass
LI.	Battle of Essling
LII.	Napoleon wounded at Ratisbon
LIII.	“The Combat at Somo Sierra”
LIV.	Napoleon’s Interview with the Prussian Queen
LV.	The Retreat from Moscow
LVI.	The Death of the Duke of Montebello
LVII.	Napoleon at the Tomb of Frederick the Great
LVIII.	The Peasant of the Rhine
LIX.	The Redoubt of Kabrunn
LX.	“Is it True that Things are going so badly?”
LXI.	The Battle of Moscow
LXII.	The Skirmish
LXIII.	“Every one to his own Calling”
LXIV.	The Death of Poniatowski
LXV.	Napoleon at Lutzen
LXVI.	The Battle of Montmirail
LXVII.	Napoleon at Montereau
LXVIII.	Napoleon’s Farewell at Fontainbleau
LXIX.	The Battle of Hainau
LXX.	Napoleon at Arcis-sur-Aube
LXXI.	Filial Anxiety of a Conscript
LXXII.	The Turnpike of Clichy
LXXIII.	The Return from Elba
LXXIV.	Napoleon at Charleroi
LXXV.	Napoleon at Waterloo
LXXVI.	Napoleon saluting Wounded Foes
LXXVII.	Napoleon in 1815
LXXVIII.	Taking the Oath of Allegiance
LXXIX.	A Soldier’s Farewell
LXXX.	A Soldier at Waterloo
LXXXI.	A Field Hospital
LXXXII.	Arc de Triomphe de l’Etoile
LXXXIII.	Death-bed of Napoleon
LXXXIV.	Napoleon as Lieutenant-Colonel
LXXXV.	The Triumphal Column
LXXXVI.	Statue of Napoleon by Chaudet
LXXXVII.	Apotheosis
LXXXVIII.	Napoleon, Emperor
LXXXIX.	The Death-mask of Napoleon
XC.	The Funeral Procession at the Arc de Triomphe
XCI.	Esplanade of the Hotel des Invalides
XCII.	The Catafalque, Dôme des Invalides
XCIII.	The Funeral Car
XCIV.	Opening the Casket
XCV.	Royal Court of the Hotel des Invalides

 

 

 

 

On the 4th of October, 1795, at six o’clock in the morning, Napoleon visited every post, and placed his troops in line. They were few in number, and might easily have been destroyed by the populace.

While everything portended a sanguinary affair, the danger becoming every instant more pressing, the Convention discussed the situation without coming to any decision. Suddenly a column of a few battalions headed by Lafond, an emigrant, appeared on Point Neuf, and obliged Cartaux to fall back under the posterns. At about a quarter past four some rockets were fired from the Hotel de Noailles. This was the signal for the attack. Lafond’s column wheeled round, and marched on the Pont Royal along the Quai Voltaire. This column was routed by the artillery of the Louvre and Pont Royal after rallying three times under the fire. St. Roche was taken, and every other post occupied by the sectionaries, was cleared. At six o’clock, the affray was over; and if a few cannon were heard during the night, they were discharged to destroy the barricades which some of the citizens still wished to maintain.

On the 15th of May, 1796, Napoleon made his entry into Milan, amidst the acclamations of the populace; his troops passing under a triumphal arch. From that day the Italians adopted the tri-colored ensign—green, red and white.

Napoleon remained only a few days in Milan, where he received d’Este, natural brother of the Duke of Modena, who came to solicit the protection of the French army. Buonaparte treated with the Duke of Modena as he had done with the Duke of Parma.

In taking the command of the army in Italy, Napoleon, notwithstanding his extreme youth, inspired the soldiers, and even the old officers themselves, with absolute confidence.

The accompanying engraving is copied from a fresco painted by Andrea Appiani, who was commissioned to portray in the vice-regal palace at Milan the pageants of Napoleon. Thirty-five are there painted in oil, after the manner of Grisaille. This subject has been engraved by the best artists of Milan; it is rare and much sought after by amateurs.

In Italy, after the battle of Bassano, Napoleon, followed by his staff rode over the field. The moon shed her light upon that scene of horror, and the profound silence of the night was disturbed only by the sad cries of the wounded, and the dismal groans of the dying. All at once a dog that had been lying on a dead body, came forward whining, running back and forth, seemingly divided between the desire of avenging the death of his master, and the fear of allowing the body to become cold. Napoleon stopped; his soul was stirred by the faithful friendship of the animal compared to the neglect with which the other victims were treated, and he remained absorbed in profound meditation.

“What a lesson for man!” at last he cried.

The incident was so deeply impressed upon his mind that twenty-five years after, he spoke of it again on the rock of St. Helena.

Napoleon arrived at Rivoli about two o’clock in the morning of the 14th of January, 1797, where he was able to observe the line of the enemy’s fires who appeared to be encamped in five divisions, with a view of commencing the attack at different points. Joubert immediately received orders to act on the offensive; and the Fusileers engaged with one of the enemy’s columns, and repulsed it by day-break. Another Austrian column then marched upon the battery at Rivoli; in less than an hour this was defeated and driven back by Massena, when a third came to its aid, and would have thrown itself upon the battery, but the French artillery slaughtered all who came within gun-shot. The cavalry then charged with daring intrepidity, and the enemy were driven to the edge of the precipice, and rolled into the ravine below. Whilst this took place a fourth column arrived at the place to which it had been directed, on the heights of Pipoto, hoping to turn the French flank; but it was too late; it came just in time to see the destruction of the other divisions, and to foresee the fate which awaited itself. Seven thousand prisoners were taken, with twelve pieces of cannon, and a few ensigns. In the course of the day Napoleon was frequently surrounded by the enemy, and had several horses killed under him. In consideration of services performed on this occasion, Massena had the title of Duc de Rivoli conferred upon him.

After Lonato had been taken by the Austrians, and again re-taken by Napoleon, August, 1796, five thousand Austrians deserted; when, learning that there were only 1200 French soldiers at Lonato, they marched toward that place, in the hope of clearing a road to the Nuncio. When near Lonato they sent to demand the surrender of the city. At that moment Napoleon arrived from Castiglione, when he ordered the messenger to be brought before him. “Go, tell your general,” said Napoleon, “that he is in the midst of the French army. I give him eight minutes to surrender; after that he has nothing to hope for!” Harassed and fatigued, not knowing which way to turn, these 5,000 men laid down their arms at his command.

When Napoleon took command of the army of Italy, it was in a state of absolute destitution.

Napoleon arrived at Nice, reviewed the troops, and said, “Soldiers, you are badly equipped; you require many necessaries, but our government is not able to supply them. Your patience and the courage you have shown in the midst of these sterile rocks, are worthy of admiration; but here you gain no glory. I will conduct you into the more fertile plains, rich provinces and great cities shall be in our power, and you will have riches, honor, and glory!”

This proclamation was received with loud acclamations, and the army moved onward.

On the 10th of April, 1796, the central division of the enemy’s forces, commanded by General Argentan, had taken its position before the redoubts of Monte Legino, which were defended by Colonel Rampon. During the night the republican troops completely surrounded Argentan. Rampon, with his regiment, and Laharpe attacked him in front; while Massena and Augereau attacked him in the rear and in the flanks. The rout was complete, and the French made their entry into Piedmont.

Some hours after receiving despatches from the Directory, Napoleon wrote to the Archduke Charles to make overtures of peace to him; the Archduke immediately answered that he would learn the opinion of his Court, having no power to treat alone.

At last, on the 7th of April, 1797, the head-quarters were fixed at Leoben, when Generals Bellegarde and Merfield presented themselves to demand an armistice of ten days, previous to making a definitive peace. The armistice was signed the same evening, but the French agreed to five days only. The Austrian plenipotentiaries arrived at Leoben on the 13th of April, and the preliminaries were signed on the 18th.

The scene in the picture is in a pavillion of the Bishop’s palace in the midst of a garden. The French general is saying to the Austrian envoys: “If we are not agreed upon that point, I continue my march, and behold the road to victory!”

The picture contains some historical portraits; among others, Lavalette, aide-de-camp to Napoleon, who wrote under the dictation of his general; to the left of Lavalette are Louis Buonaparte and Eugene Beauharnais, leaning his head on the future king of Holland. There are also portraits of Berthier, Massena, Augereau, and Murat, then inseparable associates of Napoleon.

The marsh of Arcola is crossed by three causeways,—each of which was occupied by a French column. Alvinzi, supposing them only a few light troops, contented himself by ordering two small divisions to disperse them; these were checked and nearly routed by the strong columns of infantry to which they unexpectedly found themselves opposed. It was necessary that Arcola, which was defended by two battalions of Croates should be taken, in order to gain the bridge of Villeneuve, which was the only retreat of Alvinzi. The fire continuing unabated, Napoleon, determined on making a last effort, seized an ensign and planted it on the bridge with his own hand. He had advanced his column to the centre of the bridge, when a fresh body of Austrians arrived and commenced a sharp fire on his flank, which compelled those in the rear to retire. The grenadiers at the head of the column, finding themselves abandoned by their comrades, gave way; but not willing to lose their general, bore him in their arms through the midst of the dead and the dying. In the confusion he was precipitated into the marsh, where he lay surrounded by his enemies, and would probably have been taken prisoner had not the grenadiers, perceiving his danger, raised the cry, “Forward—forward—save the general!” At this the troops returned to the charge, and finally drove the Austrians out of the village. Nov. 1796.

The independence of the Cisalpine Republic was declared on the 29th of June, 1797. A general federation of the national guards and of the authorities of the new Republic was held in the Lazaretto of Milan. On the 14th of July, thirty thousand of the national guard and deputies from the departments swore fealty to the new Commonwealth.

The Cisalpine Directory named its own ministers, the administrative authorities, and governed the Republic as an independent State. The keys of Milan, and of all the fortified places were duly remitted by the French to the Cisalpine officers, and the army quitted the States of the Republic and were cantoned upon the Venetian territory.

Napoleon, after the treaty of Campo Formio, returned to Milan to complete the organization of this new State, and the administrative measures of its army. He bade adieu to the Italian people in an address, wherein he told them, that they were the first who had ever acquired liberty without a revolution. “We have given liberty to you; know how to keep it. You are, after France, the most populous and the richest republic. Prove yourselves worthy of your destiny, by enacting wise and moderate laws, and by enforcing them with energy.” He told them to be sure that they had a sufficient sense of the dignity which attaches to a free people and promised them the protection of the French nation should they be attacked by neighboring States.

The subject of the accompanying engraving is derived from the account already given of the Battle of the Pyramids, at the moment when Napoleon, pointing to those remains of antiquity, and addressing his soldiers, exclaimed, “Soldats! du haut de ces pyramides, quarante siècles vous contemplent.” The results of this battle are well known, the name of Buonaparte, now spread panic through the East; and the Sultan Kebir or King of Fire, as he was called from the deadly effects of the musketry in this engagement was considered as the destined scourge of God, whom it was hopeless to resist.

While the French were masters of Cairo, a conspiracy was formed against them which exploded on the 21st of October, 1798. The populace, at the instigation of the Sheiks, had sworn by Mahomet to exterminate the French. At the commencement of the insurrection, General Dupuy was mortally wounded, and several others were killed; when the drums were heard beating to arms, the Turks repaired to the Grand Mosque, where they assembled to the number of about 8,000. Here they were ordered to surrender, but refused, and seemed determined to defend themselves to the last, when Napoleon commanded bombs to be thrown from the citadel; this spread dismay and terror amongst the besieged, which was greatly increased by the French bursting open the doors. In a few moments the carnage became dreadful. The fanaticism of the revolters prevented their perceiving the impossibility of successful resistance to the French, who had been infuriated by seeing Brigadier-General Sulkowski slain by the multitude. Girodet has produced a very animated picture of the scene. The most remarkable group is that where a man completely naked supports a young Turk, richly dressed, who is about to receive his death-wound. Near him is a negro, also naked, aiming to ward off the fatal blow, and holding the head of a young Frenchman. On the left is an Hussar of extraordinary stature, whose weapon seems to threaten death to the unfortunate Turk.

General Belliard learned that 2000 Mekkains and more than 1000 Arabs, conducted by Hassan, had attacked the flotilla at Benouth, and captured it, notwithstanding an active resistance. Although he had with him only 600 men of the 21st light dragoons, he crossed the Nile, and sought the enemy now strengthened by the arrival of 400 Mamelukes. The fight was long and obstinate. The enemy lost their cannon, and fled in alarm; part to the boats, where the French soldiery, in their fury, soon reached them; more to Benouth, and into the castle, which they had previously fortified. There they defended themselves fiercely, and repulsed several attacks. The order was then given to burn the village and the castle; and its occupants were soon surrounded with flames, which they were unable to extinguish, and which closed up every means of egress; their only chance of escape was to cut their way through the French soldiers, which they attempted as a forlorn hope, when they were repulsed by a body of riflemen, whilst a column rushing upon a breach made in the wall, kept them within the castle, where they all perished.—March, 1799.

The original of this painting, by M. Langlois, is in the Orleans Gallery, at the Palais Royal.

On the 21st of July the army came within sight of the Pyramids, which, but for their regularity of outline might have been taken for a distant ridge of rocky mountains. While every eye was fixed on these hoary monuments of the past, the troops gained the brow of a gentle eminence, and saw at length spread out before them the vast armies of the Beys, its right, posted on an intrenched camp by the Nile, its centre and left composed of that brilliant cavalry with which they were by this time acquainted. Napoleon, riding forward to reconnoitre, perceived, what escaped the observation of all his staff, that the guns of the entrenched camp were not provided with carriages; and instantly decided on his plan of attack. He prepared to throw his force on the left, where the guns could not be made available. “Soldiers,” said Napoleon, “from the summit of yonder pyramid, forty ages behold you;” and the battle began.

We may easily form an idea of the condition of the Egyptians, subject to the oppression of the Mamelukes on the one hand, and the rapacity of the Arabs on the other, when the French entered their territory under Napoleon, announcing themselves as avengers and liberators, as we find by the following occurrence, which has furnished the subject of M. Delorme’s composition.

One day when Buonaparte was surrounded by the grand Sheiks, some one told him that the Arabs of the tribe of Osnadis had entered with an armed band into a village, driven off the herds, and killed an unfortunate fellah, who endeavored to make some resistance. Full of indignation, he ordered 200 dromedaries and 300 horsemen to take the field in pursuit of the guilty party. The Sheiks, surprised at the animated tone in which this command was given, looked at each other, for to them the life of a poor fellah was of no consequence. One of them observed to him that he had better not embroil himself with the Arabs, a people always dangerous, who could retaliate more than the evil he could inflict on them. “Wherefore,” added the Sheik Elmodi, “all this stir? Because they have killed a fellah! Was he then thy cousin?” “More than that!” cried Napoleon with energy, “all whom I command are my children!” And his gesture, more weighty than his words, sufficiently indicated that he took under his protection the unfortunate who came to plead for vengeance. “Taib!” cried the astonished Sheik, “thou speakest like a prophet.”—1798.

 

 

Buonaparte had great difficulty in subduing the revolts at Cairo, and his work was only effected by an immense sacrifice of human life. He succeeded in forcing the rebels to take refuge in the mosque of Eleazar in the Isle of Ronda, whose approaches they secured with strong barricades. Here Napoleon summoned them to surrender; and by his order the divan, the principal sheiks and doctors of the law presented themselves at the barricades, to induce them if possible to comply with his summons. They were received by a fusilade, when, at a given signal, General Dommartin opened a battery upon the mosque. This battery was kept in constant and fearful play, and produced such consternation and terror among the rebels, that they cried loudly for permission to capitulate: “You refused mercy when I offered it,” replied the General, “the hour of vengeance has arrived; you commenced this tumult, it is for me to finish it.”

Reduced to despair, they attempted a sortie, but were met by the French grenadiers. At length they threw down their arms and surrendered at discretion; imploring mercy, and uttering their cry of distress, Amman!

On the 6th of May, 1799, Buonaparte summoned the commandant of the garrison of Jaffa to surrender, who replied to the demand by very unceremoniously decapitating the messenger who carried the summons. The French commenced the attack on the city, and soon became masters of it; they put the garrison to the sword, and abandoned the city to pillage by the soldiers. This horrible scene lasted for six and thirty hours; and to the disgrace of the French be it said, they massacred their prisoners without mercy.

“This conduct on the part of the French,” says one of their own historians, “conquerors so generous in Egypt, no motive to vengeance could justify, but it became no less calamitous to them than it was to their victims. The plague, that terrible scourge of the East, began its ravages among the French soldiery the very day after the taking of Jaffa.”

The frightful cry, “It is the plague!” spread itself amongst the soldiers, and struck terror into the hearts of the most courageous.

On his return to Jaffa, on the 24th of May, Buonaparte repaired to the hospital, where there were many of the soldiers, some of them wounded, some afflicted with ophthalmia, uttering most pitiable cries. The painter has attempted to convey an idea of this scene, and represents Buonaparte as touching a patient under the blight of the plague.

Buonaparte reached Alexandria on the evening of the 24th of July, 1799, where he found his army already posted in the neighborhood of Aboukir, and prepared to attack the Turks on the morrow.

Surveying their entrenched camp from the heights above with Murat, he said, “Go how it may, the battle of tomorrow will decide the fate of the world.” “Of this army, at least,” answered Murat; “but the Turks have no cavalry, and, if ever infantry were charged by horse, they shall be so by mine.”

On the 25th the attack was commenced by the French, and resisted for some time by the Turks with success. Murat, at length, was able to charge their main body in flank, when the troops became panic-stricken, and the battle was changed into a massacre; and numerous Turks, to escape the swords of the French, precipitated themselves into the sea, where they were nearly all drowned. This eventful day crowned the labors of Buonaparte in Egypt with glory and honor; and after the victory, Kleber, in a transport of admiration, pressed Napoleon in his arms, saying, “General! you are the greatest of men!”

Napoleon, having crossed the Red Sea, at the ford, was met on the opposite shore, by a deputation of Cenobites from Mount Sinai. These monks threw themselves at his feet, imploring his protection; and after having invoked the blessings of heaven on his head, they presented for his signature the ancient register of their privileges. Napoleon smiled at their request; he took the pen, and no doubt flattered by an homage so extraordinary, signed his name already immortal beside those of Ali, of Saladin, and of Ibrahim.

Toward the close of the year 1799, Napoleon occupied the palace of the Luxembourg. Several courtiers thought that a palace in the country should also be allotted to his use. He had lived at Malmaison, but this was considered unsuitable for the abode of the chief of a great republic and it was decided that St. Cloud should be offered him. This he chose to decline.

In August, 1802, Napoleon was made consul for life. The court then became such as it had been at Versailles under the Bourbons. A French writer says, that when at the Tuileries, “he found it a tiresome abode; there he had no freedom—no liberty. His happiest days were spent at Malmaison. Great in himself, he appeared still greater in that charming retreat.”

Having formerly refused St. Cloud at the hands of the people, he now took it on his own authority. There he had less leisure than at Malmaison, as etiquette was augmented in proportion to the grandeur of his establishment.

Josephine suffered more from this new state of things than any other individual. She was much attached to Malmaison; it was there she had spent many happy hours with her dearest friends. She was often heard to say, “How all this excitement fatigues and wearies me! I have not a moment to myself! I ought to have been the wife of an humble cottager.”

On the 11th of June, 1800, and in the evening after the battle of Montebello, General Desaix arrived at headquarters. The two generals conversed with each other nearly the whole night. Desaix had much to tell of Egypt, since Napoleon had quitted it; and he now burned to distinguish himself in the Italian campaign. Napoleon immediately gave him the command of a division.

Early in the morning on the 14th of June, the Austrians commenced a furious attack on the village of Marengo. The First Consul found it necessary to call in Desaix, who was now half a day’s journey distant from headquarters, where he had been sent to watch the road to Genoa. Napoleon arrived on the field at ten o’clock, when the enemy was in possession of Marengo, and the division under Victor was completely routed. He sent his guard to Victor’s aid, and assisted himself in the support of Lannes, directing the division of Carra-Saint-Cyr upon the extreme right, in order to take in flank the whole left wing of the enemy.

At the moment when the Austrian horse were about to rush on Lannes’ retreating corps, the reserve under Desaix appeared on the outskirts of the field. Desaix himself riding up to the First Consul with “I think this is a battle lost.” “I think it is a battle won,” answered Napoleon, “do you push on, and I will speedily rally the line behind you.” And in effect the timely arrival of this reserve turned the fortune of the day.

The Turkish outposts were assaulted early on the morning of the 24th of July, 1799, and driven in with great slaughter; but the French, as they advanced, came within range of the batteries and of the ships that lay close by the shore, and were checked. This might have ended in a rout, but for the undisciplined eagerness with which the Turks engaged in the task of despoiling those that fell before them—thus giving Murat the opportunity of charging their main body in flank with his cavalry, at the moment when the infantry, rallying under the eye of Napoleon, forced their way into the intrenchments. From that moment, the battle was a massacre. The Turks, attacked on all sides, were panic-stricken; and the sea was covered with the turbans of men who flung themselves headlong into the waves, rather than await the fury of Le Beau Sabreur, or the steady rolling fire of the Sultan Kebir. Six thousand surrendered at discretion; twelve thousand perished on the field, or in the sea.

On the 17th Brumaire (November 9th, 1799), Napoleon intimated to the officers of the army, that he would review their regiments the next morning at seven o’clock; he at the same time reminded all the generals who had been with him in Egypt, that he would be glad to see them at an early hour.

On November 10th, the Council of the Ancients assembled at six o’clock in the morning; when it was proposed to remove their sitting to St. Cloud that Napoleon might be invested with the command of the 17th military division. The motion was passed as a decree, though not without a strong opposition.

An hour after, Napoleon, surrounded by a great number of generals and officers, of every grade, attended at the bar of the assembly to return thanks for the confidence they had shown in him; and then returned to the Tuileries to review the troops.

As soon as it was reported throughout the capital that Napoleon was at the Tuileries, and that the chief power was now vested in him. The people ran thither in crowds. A proclamation was addressed to the people, and another to the soldiers.

The original picture from which this engraving is copied, ornaments the library at the Hotel des Invalides. It was painted at the express command of Napoleon.

The first consul left Paris for Dijon, on the 6th of May, 1800, where the reserve army was being organized. At Geneva, he had an interview with the chief of engineers, for the purpose of ascertaining the particulars of the intended route; especially directing his inquiries to the difficult passage across St. Bernard. At the close of the interview, Napoleon said, “Do you believe, then, that the army will be able to accomplish this?” “Yes, General,” replied the intrepid engineer, “it is possible for French soldiers.” “Ah well!” said Napoleon, “let us attempt it then.” And the orders were immediately given for the army to commence its march.

On the 15th, at the head of 30,000 of his troops, Napoleon began the ascent of St. Bernard. From St. Pierre to the summit the trail was so narrow that the troops were obliged to move in single file. In the course of a few days he performed what General Suvaroff had not dared to undertake in the preceding year: and thus the name of Napoleon was placed on the list with Hannibal and Charlemagne.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, Napoleon took up his position on the road to San Juliano. “Soldiers!” he cried, “we have retreated far enough, now let us advance! You know it is my custom to sleep on the battle field!” Desaix was ordered to throw himself with his fresh troops upon the 6000 grenadiers of Colonel Zach. Desaix prepared to carry out these orders, but was shot dead at the first fire. “Alas! I must not weep,” said Napoleon; but the loss of this esteemed general redoubled the fury of the troops. Zach himself was taken prisoner; and the next day Melas entered into a negotiation, offering to abandon Genoa, and all the strong places in Piedmont, Lombardy, and the Legations,—provided Napoleon would allow him to march the shattered remains of his army unmolested to the rear of Mantua; this offer Napoleon accepted, and thus became the conqueror of Italy.

This imposing ceremony was performed on the 2d of December, 1804, in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, in the midst of all that was splendid and illustrious in the Capital of France. With a view to show his power rather than to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Pope, either temporal or spiritual, Napoleon summoned Pius VII. to be in attendance on the day of his inauguration at Paris. In compliance with this, the unresisting Pope left Rome on the 5th of November, and blessed the Emperor and Empress, and also consecrated the diadems. Napoleon, however, placed the crown on his own head, and then on the head of Josephine, who received it kneeling on a cushion at the foot of the altar steps. We are told that “throughout the ceremonial his aspect was thoughtful; it was on a stern and gloomy brow that with his own hands he planted the symbol of successful ambition and uneasy power, and the shouts of the deputies present, sounded faint and hollow amidst the silence of the people.”

Admiral Villeneuve in engaging in the disastrous battle of Trafalgar, spoiled the great plan of descending upon England.

The illustrious Pitt took means to avert the storm which menaced the British Isles. A treaty of alliance was signed by Russia and Austria, and the third coalition against France was formed. Napoleon gave orders for breaking up the camp at Boulogne; and, whilst a portion of the army commenced their march toward Strasburg, Marshal Bernadotte issued orders to occupy the fortresses of Hameln and Nienburgh, with the 19th regiment of the line. General Marunno was at the same time ordered to break up his camp at Zeist, to quit Holland and ascend the Rhine, arriving upon the Maine with the First corps of the army, to take part in any subsequent operations.—September 17, 1805.

Napoleon had crossed the Rhine with his army.

The left wing, composed of the corps under Marshal Bernadotte, and of that under General Marmont, with the Bavarian army, set out on the 1st and 2d of October for Weissenburg.

Marshal Davoust, leaving Neckarels, followed the road to Meikumlh, Ingelfrugen, Chreilsheim, Drinkelspuhl, Frembdingen, Œttingen, and Haarburg.

Marshal Soult advanced upon the Danube.

Ney, leaving Stuttgart, followed the road to Nattheim.

Marshal Lannes quitted Ludwisburg, and directed his march towards Nordeingen.

On the 6th of October the army held the following positions:—

Bernadotte at Weissenburg.

Davoust at Altingen upon the Wernitz.

Soult, master of the bridge of Munster, at the gates of Donawerth.

Ney at Kossingen.

Lannes at Neresheim.

And the cavalry, under Murat, along the Danube.

The second division of that portion of the army under Marshal Soult, commanded by General Vandamme, having arrived at Donawerth on the evening of the 6th, had the honor of beginning the attack on the Austrian Army.

Napoleon exhibited to his officers and soldiers an example of indefatigable activity. On horseback, night and day, he was continually in the midst of his troops, and chiefly where he thought his presence most necessary to excite the energy of his soldiers. He did not forget that similar conduct had mainly contributed to his success in Italy; and he was wise enough to see the importance of inducing those under his command, by constantly observing their actions, to expect that he would appreciate their services, and reward them with liberality.

Ney had received orders to bear down upon Ulm. Murat advanced upon Burgau, and sought to cut off the retreat of the enemy.

The French army, since crossing the Danube, had succeeded in cutting off the communication between some parts of the enemy’s army; and Napoleon, arriving at Augsburg on the evening of the 10th of October, 1805, made preparations to destroy the remainder.

Napoleon met the troops under General Marmont, at the bridge of Lech, on the day just named. Here he had the regiment formed into a circle, and harangued them in the manner of the Roman emperors.

M. Gautherot has endeavored to portray this scene, of which another engraving and description will be found in another part of this work.

Amid the great events which were then being enacted, one—not the least in importance—awaited the Emperor of France in the capital of the Cisalpine Republic, now become the kingdom of Italy. The Italians decided to offer the crown to the conqueror of Arcola and Marengo, and in pursuance of that decision they dispatched a deputation to Paris. Accepting that offer, Napoleon and the Empress Josephine repaired to Milan, where they were crowned on the 26th of May, 1805, with unusual splendor. On this occasion, as at Paris, Napoleon himself placed the crown upon his own head; and, when taking it from the altar, he exclaimed aloud, “God gives it to me; beware who touches it!” On the 8th of June, Prince Eugene, the adopted son of Napoleon, was proclaimed Viceroy of Italy; and the French Emperor returned to his army, to make preparations for the memorable campaign of Austerlitz.

On September 21st, 1805, the three divisions under Bernadotte, took their position at Butzbach, in the province of Gros-Herzogth; and on the 30th of the same month, the whole army was united before Wurtzburg. General Marmont arrived at Mayence with his corps, joining Bernadotte and the Bavarians.

The different columns of the army arrived successively upon the Rhine from the 20th to the 26th of September; these corps were commanded by Marshals Soult, Davoust, Ney, and Lannes; Murat commanding the reserve of cavalry. They formed a line of which the right was at Strasburg, the centre at Spire, and the left at Mayence.

The reserve of cavalry, composed of five divisions, crossed the Rhine on the 25th of September, at Kehl. Lannes and his corps, consisting of the grenadiers under Oudinot, and of a division under Suchet, crossed the Rhine at the same place; and Marshal Ney, with his divisions, under Dupont, Loison, and Malher, and the dragoons of Baragny d’Hilliers, followed on the 26th.

Soult with the divisions of Vandamme, Legrand, and St. Hilaire, effected his passage at Spire; and Davoust at Manheim at the head of the divisions under Friant, Gudin, and Bouvrier.

General Vandamme, in the action at Donawerth, routed the regiment of Colloredo, who defended the bridge, killed about 60 men and took 150 prisoners. Marshal Soult hastened to the bridge, and bore down upon Augsburg with the division under Vandamme and Legrand; while St. Hilaire marched his troops up the left bank of the Danube, to watch the movements of the army collected round Ulm, and afterward, followed the two divisions we have just named.

Murat arrived at Donawerth on the morning of the 7th of October, 1805, with the dragoons commanded by General Walter, and crossed the river to bear down rapidly upon the Lech. Colonel Wathier, at the head of 200 dragoons of the Fourth Regiment, crossed that river by swimming, to occupy the bridge on the road to Rain. A regiment of Austrian cuirassiers made some efforts at resistance, but were charged so gallantly by Wathier and his small handful of men that the bridge remained in the hands of the French.

Napoleon, who accompanied the corps under Lannes, took up his quarters at Zusmershausen, where he reviewed the cavalry under Murat, as well as the two divisions under Oudinot and Suchet.

Marshal Soult, after having manœuvred with Legrand’s division on the 7th and 8th of October, rejoined that of Vandamme, to make for Augsburg by the right bank of the Lech; whilst St. Hilaire pursued the same course on the left. Soult met with the debris of the Austrian column, beaten and dispersed, at Wertingen; from which village he drove them, and entered Augsburg.

The second corps of the Grand Army, commanded by General Marmont, was on a forced march to take its position upon the heights of Illersheim, near Augsburg. The Emperor was by the bridge of Lech, and each regiment was ordered to form a circle, and Napoleon addressed them on the situation. He said a serious engagement was probably at hand, and expressed his confidence in their bravery. Notwithstanding the bad weather, and the severe cold, while they listened to his harangue, the soldiers appeared to forget their fatigue and pant for the combat.

Such was the subject given to Gautherot, when commanded to paint this picture. Napoleon occupies the middle of the scene; near him is Marshal Bassieres holding his baton; and at a little distance mounted upon a horse which is leaping forward, we observe General Marmont, Deputy-Marshal. In the back-ground stands the city of Augsburg. The whole of the surrounding country is covered with snow.

On the 29th of October, 1805, the Austrians surrendered Ulm to Napoleon.

In execution of the articles of capitulation, the Austrian troops passed in review before the Emperor, with all the honors of war. This ceremony began at two o’clock in the afternoon and continued until seven o’clock in the evening. The number of the prisoners was estimated at 30,000—2000 of them cavalry. Sixty pieces of cannon and forty flags were delivered into the hands of the conquerors, who were encamped on the hills above the city.

The Emperor, surrounded by his guard, caused the Austrian generals to be brought before him; they were, General Mack, Commander-in-Chief; eight Lieutenant-Generals, and eight Major-Generals. Napoleon treated them with great respect, and said, “Gentlemen, the Emperor, your master maintains an unjust war against me. I tell you with candor, I know not wherefore he fights with me; I know not what he demands of me.” Then directing their attention to the French troops ranged upon the hills in battle array, he added: “It is not in this army alone that my strength consists; were it so indeed, I would still endeavor to force my way with that alone; but I refer you to the reports which your soldiers, whom I now send prisoners to France, shall furnish; they will see the spirit which animates my people, and with what zeal they will rally round my standard.”

On the 10th of November, 1805, Mortier met the rear guard of the Russians, 25,000 strong, and defeated them after a combat of several hours, having with him only 5000 French troops.

On the following morning, the citizens of Vienna, whom the Austrian Emperor had abandoned, opened the gates of that capital to the French Emperor.

Let us see what was said in one of the bulletins of this magical campaign:

“The Emperor has not yet received any of the authorities of Vienna, except a deputation from the different bodies of the city, who, on the day of his arrival, met him at Sigarts-Kirchen. They were composed of the Prince of Seuzendorf, the prelate of Seidenstetten, the Count of Veterani, the Baron de Kees, the Burgomaster of the city, M. de Wohebben, and General Burgeois.

“His majesty received them with much condescension, and told them that they might assure the people of Vienna of his protection.

“General Clarke is named Governor-General of Lower Austria; Darn is appointed Intendant General.”

Girodet has chosen his subject from this fragment of the bulletin. On the side of the Emperor are the Princes Murat and Neufchatel, Marshal Bessieres, and other officers of different ranks.

At one o’clock in the morning of December 2d, 1805, the Emperor mounted his horse, to take a survey of his position, and to ascertain from the advance guards what they had observed of the movements of the Russians. He wished to do so without being recognized, but the soldiery recognized him immediately, and, lighting great fires of straw all along the line, received him from post to post with enthusiasm. They reminded him that this was the anniversary of his coronation and assured him that they would celebrate the day in a manner worthy of it: ‘only promise us,’ cried an old grenadier, ‘that you will keep yourself out of range.’ “I will do so,” answered Napoleon. “I shall be with the reserve until you need me.” This pledge, which so completely reveals the mutual confidence of the leader and his soldiers, he repeated in a proclamation issued at day break. The sun rose with unusual splendor; and was the harbinger of one of the most lovely days in autumn. This engagement, which the soldiers persist in calling the battle of the three emperors, will be ever memorable in the calendar of the “great” nation.

The Emperor surrounded by his staff, gave his last orders at dawn and each marshal hastened to rejoin his corps.

After the battle of Austerlitz, where the Austrian power was so nearly destroyed, the French conqueror sent a fasceau of ensigns to the tribunes, to be presented to the Senate which had seconded by its decrees the organization of the army.

It was in the hall where the sittings were held before the marble statues of all the great men of ancient days that the tribunes, bearing the Austrian eagles came in a body to offer them to the first dignitaries in France. The tribunes entered, clothed in their rich costumes, which contrasted well with the color of the warlike trophies they bore.

On the left of the picture, the President is seated to receive the deputation, surrounded by his secretaries. The Duke of Dantzic appears by his gesture to direct the proceedings. On the same side we observe the Chancellor of the Legion of Honor, and two other senators. On the right some other members of the Senate seem to congratulate one another on participating in such an honorable event. These are portraits. The sumptuous vestments and the hats ornamented with plumes, which the artist has introduced with much ingenuity, contribute to render the foreground of the picture effective.

A French regiment, the 76th of the line, had lost its colors in the Grisons; it knew that Europe had not forgotten its misfortune, which was not occasioned, however, by want of courage. After the taking of forts Charnitz and Neustark on the 9th of November, 1805, this regiment entered Inspruck; an officer of the guard recognized in the arsenal the long lost colors and announced it to his comrades. The soldiers crowded forward, when their chief, Marshal Ney, standing in the midst, exhibited these flags the subject of so many regrets. “I return them to you,” said he, “confident that you will never lose them again.” On the right of the engraving, a young soldier, raised upon the arms of his comrades, is seen tracing these words upon the wall: “Le 76e retrouve ses drapeaux dans l’arsenal d’Inspruck, 1805.”

This picture formed part of the exhibition of 1808, when the committee deemed it worthy of honorable mention. In painting it, the artist, M. Meynier, had a great difficulty to overcome, that of so many men clad in uniforms of the same color; this, however, he has overcome with great success.

By order of the Bourbons, the head of the General has been changed; they were not willing that aught of Ney should be seen, to remind his judges and executioners of the part they acted in his political murder.

It is said that Napoleon, after having ascertained the exact position of his army, on the night previous to the battle of Austerlitz, fell asleep in the midst of his general officers. This was about midnight, when he snatched an hour from his important duties to restore the energies of his wearied frame. Ingratitude and treason were alone able to conquer the will and the power that were to astonish future ages, and to be felt, if not acknowledged, to all time.

The Russian General-in-chief, Kutusoff, fell into the snare Napoleon had held for him, and sent a large division of his army to turn the right of the French. The troops detached for this purpose met with unexpected resistance from Davoust, and were held in check at Raygern. Napoleon immediately seized the opportunity; they had left a deep gap in the line, and into that space Soult forthwith poured a force which entirely destroyed communication between the Russian centre and left. The Czar perceived the fatal consequences of this movement, and his guards rushed forward to beat back Soult. It was on an eminence, called the hill of Pratzen, that the encounter took place. The Russians began to drive the French infantry before them. Napoleon ordered Bessieres to hurry with the Imperial Guard to their rescue. The Russians were in some disorder and flushed with victory, but they resisted bravely, though they were finally broken and driven back. The Grand Duke Constantine, who had led them gallantly only escaped by the fleetness of his horse.

The French centre now advanced, and the charges of its cavalry were decisive. The Emperors of Russia and Germany beheld from the heights their right wing, which had hitherto stood well against the impetuosity of Lannes, forced down into a hollow under the incessant fire of artillery from above, where some small frozen lakes offered the only means of escape from the approaching cannonade.

The defeat of the allied army at the battle of Austerlitz induced the Emperor of Austria to seek an interview with Napoleon, in order, if possible, to conclude a treaty of peace. With this in view he commissioned Prince Jean de Lichtenstein to ascertain whether this would be agreeable to the conqueror or not: Napoleon agreed and appointed the 4th of December, 1805, to receive Francis II. at his bivouac.

On that day the haughty Emperor went to the French headquarters and Napoleon said, “I receive you in the only palace I have known for the last two months.” To which the humiliated Sovereign replied, “You have made so good a use of them, that you ought not to complain of your accommodation.” The two Princes soon concluded an armistice, and the principal conditions of peace were promptly arranged. Francis demanded that the Czar should be permitted to pass to his own country in safety. Napoleon agreed to this, provided the Russians would evacuate Germany and Poland, both Austrian and Prussian. The Austrian Emperor assured him that he felt sure such was the intention of the Czar, but desired that an officer might be sent to learn definitely the sentiments of the Russian Emperor on that point; and General Savary was dispatched to ascertain if Alexander would adhere to this armistice.

One of the engravings represents the statue which formerly crowned the summit of the splendid column in the Place Vendôme, designed by M. Chaudet in imitation of the ancient classic statues of the Roman Emperors. It has, however, been displaced by the modern one reproduced in our plate executed from the design showing Napoleon in his accustomed dress as General of the French Army.

After the battle of Jena, Napoleon took up his quarters at Weimar; the royal family of Prussia having fled on the approach of the conqueror. The Duchess, however, did not abandon her capital, though her lord and master was at the head of 25,000 men in the Prussian army. She retired with her attendants into one wing of the palace, and prepared the best apartment for the reception of the French Emperor. On his arrival she placed herself at the head of the principal staircase to receive him; when on seeing her, he abruptly demanded, “Qui êtes vous Madame?” to which she replied, “Je suis la Duchesse de Weimar.” “Then I pity you,” said Napoleon, “for your husband has lost his duchy.” He paid her no further attention but retired to his apartment.

In the morning, the Duchess was informed that the city had been pillaged, and was still in confusion. She sent one of her chamberlains to inquire after the health of the Emperor and demand an audience. Napoleon was pleased, and expressed a wish that she should breakfast with him. Scarcely had the Duchess arrived, when, according to his usual custom, he began to question her respecting her husband, and enquired why he was foolish enough to make war upon him; to which she replied, that Napoleon would have despised him if he had acted otherwise. “Why?” asked Napoleon. “My husband,” said the Duchess, “has been thirty years in the service of Prussia. He could not quit the King’s service with honor at the moment when the latter had to contend against an enemy so powerful as your majesty.”

The almost total annihilation of the Prussian army at the battle of Jena, opened the gates of Berlin to Napoleon. On the 25th of October, 1806, he was at Potsdam, and visited the royal castle, Sans Souci. The Prussian Court had abandoned Potsdam and Berlin so precipitately, that nothing had been removed from the king’s palace. Napoleon made his solemn entry into Berlin on the 27th.

The war with Prussia was thus ended. Of the 150,000 men who formed the main body of the Prussian army, seven-eighths had been killed or made prisoners; and the army of Frederic-William now consisted of only 20,000 men, infantry and cavalry. The king, the queen, and some of the Prussian generals who had sought refuge in Kœnigsberg, were reduced to so deplorable a situation that they were obliged to throw themselves on the generosity of the conqueror, and sue for peace. This was granted.

The French Senate complimented the Emperor on his success; and received from him the ensigns won from the enemy in that splendid campaign. Three hundred and forty banners and standards taken at Jena, as well as the sword, scarf, collar, and ribbon of Frederic the Great, were sent to the deputies to be placed under their care in the Hotel des Invalides.

Marshal Davoust, and the third division entered Berlin. This honor was the recompense for the glorious part which these brave troops had taken in the battle of Jena. A favor so simple, rivalling in that respect the oak leaf chaplet of the Romans, intoxicated the soldiers who received it, and they swore to be to the Emperor, what the Tenth Legion was to Cæsar.

He visited the vault where the remains of Frederic were deposited in a coffin of cedar-wood, encased in another of brass, without ornament or pompous inscription. Napoleon forbade the passage of the colors, eagles and cannon taken from the Prussians, over the place where the ashes of the illustrious monarch reposed lest it might distress his shade, or seem an insult to his tomb.

The memorable spoils of which we have spoken in giving an account of Napoleon’s visit to Frederic’s grave, were received in Paris with wild delight, and deposited with much pomp in the Hotel des Invalides, under guard of the veterans. Amongst these were yet alive 900 who had borne arms against Frederic, and they received with gratitude, presents which in their old age renewed remembrances of the army and its immortal chief. Like the warriors of Sparta, they were proud of being surpassed by their children.

Napoleon arrived at Jena on the 18th of October, 1806, and soon divined that it was the intention of the Prussians to fight on the morrow.

Giving orders to Davoust and Bernadotte, and not waiting for the guard, which were thirty hours’ march away, he determined on beginning the attack himself.

Lannes ranged his corps on a plateau in front of Jena, which the Prussians had unwisely neglected to occupy. Lefebvre and the Imperial Guard formed in a square upon the summit, and Napoleon bivouaced in the midst of his troops.

He offered rewards for every piece of artillery that was dragged on to the plateau, and reminded his men that the Prussians were fighting for their lives—and not for honor; and that if hard pressed they were sure to be entirely routed. Such was the result; 20,000 Prussians were either killed or taken prisoners, among them twenty generals; 300 guns, and sixty standards were part also of the spoil.

At break of day on the 14th of October, 1806, Marshal Ney attacked the bridge of Elchingen, with Loison’s division. The enemy occupied their position with 15,000 or 16,000 men and upon them the 69th regiment of the line began the attack in admirable order and with the greatest sang froid, supported by the 76th regiment of infantry, the 18th of dragoons, and the 10th of chasseurs. These four regiments rivalled each other in intrepidity and bravery. Repulsed in two successive charges, they began a third attack with still more fury; and after four hours of a murderous fusilade the enemy were driven back, abandoning their position at Elchingen, and were pursued into their entrenchments in front of Ulm. One Major-general, and 3000 men were made prisoners, and several pieces of artillery were lost to the French on this brilliant day; which afterward procured for Ney the title of Duke of Elchingen.

Prince Hatzfeld, the Prussian Governor of Berlin, at the time that city was taken by the French, imprudently sent Prince Hohenloe, by letter, certain information respecting the movements and condition of the French army. This letter was intercepted; upon which Napoleon directed the appointment of a military commission to try the Prince on the charge of treason and espionage.

Previous to the sitting of the commission, however, the Princess Hohenloe sought and gained admittance to the Emperor, by the aid of Duroc. Napoleon appeared touched by her situation; and directed his aid-de-camp to write to Marshal Davoust, who was at the head of the commission, to suspend judgment.

The Princess protested the innocence of her husband. Napoleon said with kindness, “Your husband has placed himself in an awkward situation; according to our laws he merits death.” Then taking the fatal letter he requested her to read it. The Princess trembled with fear. Napoleon took the letter again, and threw it into the fire; saying “Now, Madam, I have no proof of your husband’s crime—he is pardoned!”

The battle of Eylau, fought on the 8th of February, 1807, was a scene of carnage which lasted from morning until night, and the field of battle presented a most horrible scene. Let any one imagine upon a square league of ground nine or ten thousand dead bodies, four or five thousand horses killed, whole lines of Russian knapsacks, broken muskets and sabres, cannon balls, howitzer shells, and ammunition, twenty-four pieces of cannon, near which were lying the bodies of their drivers, killed as they were trying to carry them off!—and all this on a field covered with snow.

About noon on the 9th, Napoleon rode over the field, stopping continually to question the wounded, to console and succor as many as possible. The Russians, instead of the death they expected, found a generous conqueror, and prostrating themselves before him, held up their hands in token of their gratitude.

The Emperor, mounted upon a light bay horse, was accompanied by Princes Murat and Berthier, Marshals Soult, Davoust, Bessieres, and General Caulaincourt, Mouton, Gardaune, and Le Brun.

The original painting of this subject, by M. Gros, is now in the Luxembourg.

On the 14th of June, 1807, the Russian General was compelled to accept battle. “This is a day of good fortune,” said the French Emperor; “it is the anniversary of the battle of Marengo!” Napoleon reconnoitred the enemy’s position, and detailed to raze the city of Friedland. Ney commenced operations under cover of a battery of thirty pieces, placed in the centre, causing severe loss to the Russians. The imperial Russian guard lying in ambush in a ravine, intrepidly advanced, and charged the left wing of Ney’s division, which was for a moment broken; but Dupont’s division marched to their support and brought most horrible carnage with them. The field of battle at the conclusion of the day was dreadful to behold; the Russians lost 18,000 men, while the French loss was only from 4000 to 5000. Cannon, to the number of 120 pieces, 20,000 prisoners, and an immense number of flags remained in the hands of the French.

The early history of the Simplon Pass is involved in much obscurity, and nothing certain is known even of the origin of its name. It was under Napoleon’s orders that the present road was constructed.

The new Simplon Road was, in its intention and execution, a military work. It was determined upon immediately after the battle of Marengo, whilst the difficulties of the passage of the Great St. Bernard, and the almost fatal check received at Fort Bard were fresh in the recollection of Napoleon. It was executed between 1800 and 1807, under the direction of M. Ceard, the engineer-in-chief of the department of Leman, by whom the road was begun and completed. It now stands as one of the most extraordinary and daring achievements of man.

On the 19th of May, 1809, Napoleon took possession of the villages of Asperne and Essling, with so little opposition, that it was evident the Archduke wished the battle, now unavoidable, to take place with the river between the enemy and Vienna.

On the 21st of May, at day-break, the Archduke Charles appeared on a hill at some distance from the French, whose army consisted of 20,000 men. The Austrians began by a furious assault on the village of Asperne, which was taken and re-taken several times. Essling was also attacked three times; but there the French held their own.

Night interrupted the battle; the Austrians exulting in their partial success. On the following morning the French recovered the church of Asperne. The right wing of the Austrians renewed their assaults with increased energy on that point. Napoleon seeing them in such numbers, judged that the centre and left had been reduced, in order to strengthen the right wing, and instantly moved an immense body on the Austrian centre, so as to shake the Archduke’s line, and for a few minutes victory seemed secure. From this time the battle continued with varied success; the Austrians at length succeeded in destroying the bridge connecting the island of Lobau with the right bank. On this Napoleon fell back on Lobau; when the Austrians perceiving their retreat recovered their order and zeal, charged in turn, and finally made themselves masters of Asperne.

In five days, Napoleon defeated the elaborate efforts of the Austrians, with whom were allied, perhaps, the greater part of Germany; and a defensive war upon their own territory seemed now to be their only resource.

At the battle of Eckmulh, the French took 1500 prisoners, and sixteen pieces of cannon; and the Austrian army lost nearly 5000 men, killed or wounded; while the loss of the French and their allies amounted to only about 2000 men, killed and wounded.

Napoleon was wounded in the right foot at Ratisbon. He expressed his surprise that the enemy’s gun had reached him, seated upon a little hillock beyond the range of their fire. Too impatient to allow sufficient time for the dressing of the wound, he mounted his horse in haste, and restored the confidence of the army, which had been somewhat staggered at this disaster, by riding along the lines.

On the 29th of November, 1808, the French headquarters were at the village of Bocequilas. They found the pass of Somo Sierra in the chain of mountains named Carpetanos, and through which the main road to Castile runs, in the possession of the enemy. The Spaniards could not have chosen a stronger position—the defile was narrow, and excessively steep; and the road completely swept by sixteen pieces of artillery. At day-break on the 1st of December, the French endeavored to turn the flank of St. Juan. While the infantry were vainly attempting to ascend the heights in every direction, under a double fire from the artillery and the Spanish musketry, Napoleon came up, attended by his Polish lancers. The Emperor stood in the entrance of the pass, and attentively examined the enemy’s position. While thus occupied, the Spanish fire was redoubled in intensity—numerous bullets falling around the emperor, or passing over his head. Sensible of the disadvantages under which the troops labored, he decided on taking a most bold and daring course: he ordered his own squadron of Polish lancers to charge right up the pass, in face of the battery. This brave troop, conducted by Kozietulski, threw itself into columns of four, the roadway not admitting more at a time. The Poles speared the gunners, and took possession of the cannon, and the Spaniards continued their flight in such disorder, that they were at last fain to quit the road to Madrid, and escape in different directions, some to Segovia, others to Talaveyra.

Napoleon has been accused of having hastened the death of this beautiful Princess by his treatment of her at Tilsit. It is said he admitted that if she had been present at the beginning of the negotiations for peace, she would have had considerable influence upon the result. Napoleon observed that she received him in truly tragic style—demanding and crying for justice.

The Prussians were blind to Buonaparte’s power. They had dared to combat a hero—to oppose themselves to the destiny of France, and reject the friendship of Napoleon. The Queen solicited, supplicated, and implored; but in vain. Magdeburg, above all, was the object she sought for.

The Emperor asked the Queen to dinner. Before they were seated, he took a very beautiful rose, and presented it to her. The motion of her hand seemed to express a refusal; but altering her mind she said, “Oui, mais au moins avec Magdeburg.” On this, the cruel Emperor replied, “I should observe to your Majesty, that it is I who give, and you who receive.” The dinner passed off in conversation of similar nature.

On the morrow the Queen was much enraged on learning that the treaty deprived her of Magdeburg. She appears to have parted from the French Emperor with feelings of hatred.

On the 24th of October, 1809, Napoleon, in effecting his retreat from Moscow, rose early in the morning to reconnoitre. While occupied in this hazardous duty, a party of Cossacks was observed rapidly approaching, when Rapp said to the Emperor, at the same time seizing the reins of his bridle, “It is the Cossacks; you must turn back.” Napoleon refused to retreat, and placed himself, with his attendants, on the highway side. The Cossacks, being more intent on plunder than prisoners, passed within a lance’s length, and failing to notice the prey which was within their grasp, threw themselves upon some wagons, which were more attractive. This retreat is well known to have been most disastrous to the French army. The men sank under the heavy sufferings they were compelled to endure from cold and privation—their route was marked by dead bodies; and the army presented a scene of greater misery than can possibly be conceived.

Lannes was born at Lectour, in 1769, of a poor and obscure family. He joined the Republican army, and made his first campaign in the Eastern Pyrenees. “Il était alors un pigmée, il devint un géant plus tard.” Napoleon so said of the hero who was attached to him alike in his good and bad fortune.

A Colonel in 1795, he followed Buonaparte to Italy, where he distinguished himself in the battles of Millesimo, Lodi, and Arcola. He was Brigadier-General at Pavia, where he took two of the enemy’s flags. He was opposed to the Papal troops at Immola and defeated them. He then accompanied Napoleon into Egypt, where he was made General of a division. At Aboukir, he exhibited uncommon intrepidity. He returned with him to France, and took an active part in the occurences of the 18th Brumaire. He again signalized himself at Marengo, and at the battle of Montebello in 1804; where he was created a Peer with the title of Duke of Montebello, having already received a Marshal’s baton. From that time he continued to take an active part in various campaigns, and was in command at the siege of Saragoza, in 1809.

His last campaign was not the least glorious of his military career. At the battle of Essling, May 22d, 1809, he was mortally wounded at the very moment he was showing the troops a wonderful example of firmness and heroic courage.

The Court of Berlin had fled from Potsdam so precipitately that all the treasures which it contained were left for Napoleon and his army, who took possession on the 26th of October 1809. Buonaparte visited Frederick’s tomb; where he found his sword, sash, and the badges of several orders of knighthood. These he took, saying that he preferred them to all the treasures of the King of Prussia; that he would send them to the old soldiers who had served in the Hanoverian campaign, and direct that they should be placed in the Hotel des Invalides, as memorials of the victories achieved by the grand army, and as evidence of the vengeance it had taken for the disasters of Rosbach.

Some time after his alliance with the house of Austria, Napoleon, with the view perhaps of making the new Empress known and popular accompanied her on several journeys. One day while walking on the banks of the Rhine, he took a fancy to dine on one of its islands. They sat down at a table which overlooked a little farm. Napoleon desired to see the farmer, and despatched a messenger to summon him. Full of surprise, and doubt, the poor peasant hesitated to approach the Emperor; he advanced awkwardly, and his countenance fully expressed the embarrassment he suffered, and was unable to overcome.

Napoleon questioned him respecting his farm, his family, and his necessities. The poor fellow could scarce find words to reply. The Emperor kindly encouraged him, and offered him something to drink, when the farmer, abashed at so much honor, hardly dared carry the glass to his lips; he attempted several times, and as often failed. At length he overcame his fear, and not only did he give all the information that was required of him, but ventured to point out changes which he would be glad to see.—1810.

The brave Captain Chambure commanded a select troop called the Compagnie Franche.

On the attack of the redoubt of Kabrunn, Chambure at the head of these troops threw himself into the redoubt, and cut the Russians to pieces—not one escaped,—for those who avoided the bayonet fell under the fire of the battalions of Clamon and Dubowski.

A lieutenant, Connard, showed extraordinary coolness on this occasion; a ball having shattered his shoulder he continued to fight, throwing himself into the hottest of the battle. Chambure observing this, said, “You are wounded, your place is not here; go, and tell the General we are in the redoubt.” “Captain,” answered the lieutenant, “I still have my right arm; you have only the left!” And with this he reentered the battle.

Chambure pursued the enemy as far as Kabrunn. At this place he wrote as follows to the Prince of Wurtemberg:—

“Prince, your bombs have disturbed my sleep. I have resolved to make a sortie and spike the mortars which throw them. Experience shall teach you, Prince, that it is dangerous to rouse the sleeping lion.

Aug. De Chambure.

Midnight, Nov. 6, 1813.”

 

 

In the latter part of the year 1813, Napoleon rode through the Faubourg St. Antoine, accompanied by only two of his aide-de-camps. He was soon recognized, and surrounded by a crowd so dense as to impede his progress, and oblige him to stop frequently. The faces of all the people seemed to express an interrogation; as the great reverse of fortune had caused general disquietude, at length one of the crowd, bolder than the rest, questioned the Emperor, “Is it true that things are going so badly?” To which Napoleon replied, “I regret I cannot say that they go very well.” “What will be the end of it?” said another. “Ma foi! God knows!” replied the Emperor coolly. “Will our enemies be able to enter France?” said a third. “That they may easily do, and even reach Paris, if none will help me: I cannot prevent them by myself,” said Napoleon. “We will support you!” was the universal cry. “Then,” said Napoleon, “I shall still oppose the enemy and maintain our glory.” “What shall we do, then?” asked several voices. “Enrole yourselves in the army,” answered the Emperor. “We will do that,” said one, “but we will do it only conditionally.” “What condition?” he inquired. “We will not pass the frontier.” “Be it so.” “We wish to be of the guards.” “Well enrole in the guards.”

Near the end of August, 1812, Napoleon arrived on an elevated plain, called Borodino, which the Russians had previously fortified with redoubts and batteries.

The Emperor passed the night before the battle in giving orders. At day-break he was on foot, and summoned Caulaincourt to his presence. Throwing aside the curtains of his tent, he advanced towards his officers who had already assembled in great numbers. “It is somewhat cold,” said he, “but behold a splendid sun! It is the sun of Austerlitz!” Each one answered in the same spirit, by some allusions to this happy presage.

Previous to this engagement, September 6th, Napoleon issued the following address:—

“Soldiers!—This is the conflict which you have so much desired. The victory depends upon you. Victory is necessary to us—it will yield us plenty—good quarters—and ensure a speedy return to France. Act as you did at Austerlitz, at Friedland, at Vitepsk, and at Smolensk; and the most remote posterity shall refer with pride to your conduct on this occasion. It shall be said of each of you, ‘He was in the great battle fought on the plains of Moscow!’”

“This battle,” says the French historian, “opened to Napoleon the gates of Moscow! Alas! that this new victory should have been so fatal to us!”

The French army, spread over all the provinces of the Peninsula, was surrounded by enemies; but could encounter none. The guerillas showed themselves on every side, but they could not be come at any where. Invisible foes, Proteus-like,—they ceaselessly dispersed or rallied at the voice of their chiefs. Well-informed on all points, the enemy’s most trivial movements were signalled to them, and prompt and faithful reports reached them through the peasants. Was a weak garrison left in a small village,—it was next day swept away by a guerilla! Was any considerable force of troops led against these free-booters,—not a soul was to be met. At the order of the chiefs the soldiers concealed their arms, and dispersed, only to unite at a totally different point! Mark well the Spanish guerilla, the guerillero of the Peninsula, the kleft of the Greeks, and the bandit of Italy, such as are known to be men of spirit, and think not that this insurgent is looked on with an unfavorable eye in his own country; far otherwise, he renders too many services, and performs his business with too much conscience, not to be occasionally visited with notions of valor and glory. He assassinates, martyrs, and mutilates; but thinks no offering more acceptable to one of the old saints he invokes, or to his guardian patron.

One day Napoleon, followed by three or four officers, passed through the market on his way to the Tuileries. The customary acclamations followed him. A green-grocer cried out that he ought to make peace: “Good woman,” answered the Emperor, smiling, “continue selling your cabbages, and leave me to do that which concerns me,—every man to his own calling.” At this the crowd laughed and shouted, “Vive l’Empereur!”

In escaping from the field of Leipzig, Poniatowski attempted to cross the Elster by swimming, but unfortunately was drowned. Vernet has given us an admirable picture and has conveyed in lines not to be mistaken, the courage and fearlessness of the General in his daring attempt.

Previous to the battle of Leipzig, which occurred on the 19th of November, 1813, Poniatowski had received his orders from Napoleon, and on leaving him observed “we are all ready to die for your majesty.”

The misfortunes at Moscow had disappointed the French Nation; the 29th bulletin was published at Paris when Napoleon arrived at the Tuileries; he alone could save the country, he alone could repair the disasters of the grand army! France was not indifferent to the voice of her chief; she knew well how to value his ardent patriotism.

The Emperor opened a new campaign, in which he commanded 250,000 men. He did not deceive himself as to the crisis which menaced France; he therefore decided to attempt everything, and, if needful, to make political sacrifices, if the chances of war were against him.

Napoleon opened the campaign on May 2d, 1813, by gaining the battle of Lutzen; a surprising victory, and one that acquired for him immortal honor. The General of Marengo had not lost his genius; and the troops he commanded understood him well, performing wonders which astonished the old soldiers of Italy and Egypt. Masses of infantry advanced in squadrons flanked by heavy artillery, and seeming like movable fortresses; 81,000 foot and 4000 horse combatting 107,000 Russians or Prussians, of which more than 20,000 were cavalry. Alexander and the King of Prussia were there in person; and their old guards, so vain and so proud, were not able to contend against French conscripts.

On the 11th of February, 1814, Napoleon arrived before Montmirail. At eleven o’clock the Allies formed themselves in battle array. The French divisions arrived successively, and Napoleon wished to wait for the whole, but at three o’clock, as night was approaching, he directed the Duke of Treviso to boar down on Montmirail. General Friant with four battalions of the old guard, received orders to attack the Farm of l’Epine-au-Bois, a position on which depended the success of the day, and which was defended by the Allies with forty pieces of cannon. To render this attack more easy, Napoleon ordered General Nansouty to extend his troops upon the right, to oblige the Allies to thin their centre. At the same time the Russian and Prussian troops were charged briskly in the centre by the old guard, commanded by Marshal Ney. The tirailleurs fled in dismay; and the artillery could no longer be used with effect; but the fusilade became dreadful. This success, however, was counterbalanced when the lancers, the old dragoons, and the grenadiers of the guard arrived in the rear of the infantry, and breaking their lines, threw them into disorder, and killed or made prisoners the whole body. The Duke of Treviso seized upon the village of Fontenelle, that of Marchais was attacked on both sides, and all the inhabitants were either killed or taken prisoners. In less than a quarter of an hour the most profound silence succeeded to the fusilade.

The Emperor is here seen pointing a cannon. This was not the first occasion on which he had served a piece of artillery. It has been asserted by some that he was an admirable marksman, while others have maintained the contrary. At Montereau all the ardor of youth seemed to revive within him, and his military genius appeared as vigorous as in his early engagements.

On the 18th of February, 1814, General Briancks had taken his position with two divisions of Austrians, and two of Wirtemburgians, upon the heights before Montereau, covering the bridges of the city. General Chateau attacked him in vain, and was obliged to retire. The troops commanded by General Gerard kept up the fighting all the morning. Napoleon arrived on the field of battle, and immediately attacked the heights, and the effect of these successive charges was to drive the enemy with a loss of nine thousand men, in every direction. The French filed over the bridges which the Allies had not been able to destroy.

This series of unexpected triumphs revived the hopes of Napoleon. Instead of the doubtful battle which he would willingly have avoided, he had won four memorable victories: namely—those of Mormant, Valjouan, Montmirail, and Montereau.

At the close of the last decisive combat, Napoleon observed “My heart is satisfied. I will return to defend the capital of my Empire.”

On the 20th of April, 1814, everything was in readiness for Buonaparte’s departure from Fontainbleau. He ordered that the guard should be summoned, and advancing toward them, signified that he would speak to them.

“Soldiers! my old guard!” said he, “I bid you adieu! For twenty-eight years I have found you constantly in the way of honor and glory. In these latter times, as in the days of our prosperity, you have not ceased to be models of bravery and fidelity. With such men as you our cause need not be lost, but the war would be interminable; it would be a civil war and France would be more than ever unhappy! I have then sacrificed all our interests to those of our country; I leave you; do you, my friends, continue to serve France. Her happiness has been my only wish; it will always be the object of my prayers! Regret me not. If I live, it is only to advance your glory farther. I wish to record with my pen the great things we have done together! Farewell, my children! I would gladly embrace you all—I embrace your general!” General Petit brought forward the Eagle: Napoleon took him in his arms and kissed the standard. “Farewell, once more, my brave companions—farewell!”

The Austro-Bavarians had taken up their position in the woods near Hainau before the Emperor approached the Maine. He came up with them on the morning of the 30th, and his troops charged on the instant with the fury of despair. Buonaparte cut his way through ere nightfall; and Marmont, with the rear, had equal success on the 31st. In these actions there fell 6000 of the French; while the enemy had 10,000 killed or wounded, and lost 4000 prisoners; and these losses would have been far greater, but for the ready wit of a patriotic miller, who, watching the tide of battle, suddenly let the water into a mill-stream, and thus interposed a seasonable obstacle between the French cavalry and some German infantry, whom they had been driving before them; a service which was munificently rewarded by the King of Prussia later.

The pursuit had been entrusted to the Austrians, who urged it with far less vigor than the Prussians, under the fiery guidance of Blucher, would probably have exerted. No considerable advantage, therefore, followed the battle of Hainau. The remains of the French host at length passed the Rhine; and the Emperor having quitted them at Mentz, arrived in Paris on the 9th of November.

Thus terminated the campaign in Saxony.

During the night between the 16th and 17th of February, 1814, Napoleon, accompanied by a small escort of Polish lancers, reconnoitred the enemy’s line, when, on leaving Arcis, he was attacked by a corps of Russian cuirassiers and Cossacks. The Poles, commanded by Skrzinecki, their captain, rapidly formed in a square about the Emperor; and though the enemy in their front were supposed to be six times their number, they succeeded in repulsing them, and rescued Napoleon from his imminent danger.

During the campaign of 1814, the services of every French soldier were required for the defence of that empire, then invaded from all quarters. On one occasion, as Napoleon was passing along the line on horseback, a soldier stepped out of the ranks, and presented his arms; “Sire,” said he, in offering a petition to the Emperor’s notice, “my mother is old and infirm, and is dependent solely on my labors for subsistence.” Napoleon was forcibly struck with these words, uttered with timidity, and took the petition and rode on. On arriving at head-quarters, his first care was to read the petition, which stated that the soldier’s poor mother was in great necessity; that her only son, who supported her was called upon to fight for his country; and that he now sought permission to return and perform his first and most important duty. On this, Napoleon issued an order to the sub-perfect of the arrondissement where the old woman resided, to seek her out, and to tell her that the Emperor would take her under his protection, and give her 1200 francs with a pension. At the same time the poor fellow’s colonel was directed to tell him to be at ease on his mother’s account, as the Emperor would provide for her, but his services could not be dispensed with, as soldiers were required to oppose the enemies of his country.

Previous to Napoleon’s abdication the Allied army had approached and even entered Paris, and taking possession of the Faubourg des Batignolles, compelling the National Guard to repair to the Barrière de Clichy, where some slight skirmishing occurred, until it was announced that an armistice would forthwith be made.

This armistice was the precursor of those treaties in which Napoleon gave in his unconditional abdication, and retired on a pension, to the Isle of Elba, whence shortly after he succeeded in making his escape, and once more, though fortunately for the last time, disturbed the peace of Europe.

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon of the 1st of March, 1815, that Napoleon landed at Cannes, in the Gulf of Juan. From thence he proceeded toward Paris with his little army, then consisting only of 500 grenadiers, of the guard, 200 dragoons and one hundred Polish lancers; these last being without horses, were obliged to carry their saddles on their backs.

When between Mure and Vizele, Cambronne, who commanded the advance guard of forty grenadiers, met a battalion which had been sent from Grenoble to arrest their march. Colonel La Badoyere, who headed the battalion, refused to parley with Cambronne; upon which the Emperor, without hesitation, advanced alone; followed at some distance by 100 grenadiers with their arms reversed. There was profound silence until Napoleon had approached within a few paces, when he halted, and throwing open his surtout exclaimed, “If there be amongst you a soldier who would kill his general—his Emperor, let him do it now!—Here I am!” The cry of Vive l’Empereur burst instantaneously from every lip. Napoleon threw himself among them, and taking a veteran, covered with chevrons and medals, by the arm, said, “Speak honestly, old moustache, couldst thou have had the heart to kill thy Emperor?” The man dropped his ramrod into his piece to show that it was unloaded, and answered, “Judge if I could have done thee much harm,—all the rest are the same.”

Horace Vernet has attempted to present us with a portrait of Napoleon, as he appeared on the eve of his great conflict with the Allied Army. Buonaparte arrived at Charleroi about 11 o’clock, on the 15th of June, 1815, which place was evacuated by the Prussians, under General Ziethen, in great haste. Napoleon ordered Marshal Ney to repair to Gosselin, and take the command of the whole of the left wing of the army, occupying a position beyond Quatre-Bras with 40,000 men. The Prussians retired upon Fleurus.

On the 18th of June the battle of Waterloo took place.

The battle of Waterloo is an occurence with which all England is so well acquainted, that it would be superfluous to give an account of it here. We may, however, mention, that the destruction of the French army on that important occasion, is considered by French historians to be entirely the consequence of General Bourmont’s desertion. The project of Napoleon was to concentrate his forces upon the Allied Army suddenly, which ought to have been done in the night, when the Duke of Wellington and the English officers were at the ball at Brussels.

On this sanguinary field the French lost 19,000 men, while the Allied Army sustained a loss of nearly double the number of the former.

“Honneur au courage malheureux!” said Napoleon, in passing a party of wounded enemies. Debret has made an agreeable picture from a rather disagreeable subject; though it is certainly gratifying to find the leader of an army rendering due respect to those who, in their courageous efforts to overcome an opposing force, have unfortunately received wounds and injuries which, perhaps, disable them for life. The admirers of Napoleon maintain that the above incident did actually occur, while others assert that he was by nature cruel and unmerciful. We take upon ourselves to support neither the one nor the other; amid the mass of conflicting evidence we cannot see how it is possible to arrive at a conclusion. That Napoleon was a great man none can deny; that he was a good man, few will be hardy enough to maintain.

Horace Vernet has admirably conveyed in the countenance of Napoleon all the sentiments which animated the soul of “le Grande Homme” in the last moments of his military glory. Those who saw Napoleon at Waterloo have not failed to admire this painting, as well as the beautiful copy of it by M. Marin Levinge. Reveil has reproduced it admirably in the accompanying engraving.

After the distribution of the eagles at the Champ de Mars, Napoleon administered the following oath to the army:—

“Soldiers! behold your banners! These eagles shall always serve you for rallying points. They shall be ever where your Emperor shall judge it necessary for the defence of his throne and of his people. Do you swear to sacrifice your life in their defence, and constantly to maintain them by your courage in the way of victory? Do you swear it?”

All the army answered by acclamation: “We swear it! Long live the Emperor!”

The brave corporal has received a mortal wound, and takes his last farewell of a young comrade.

How many a scene like this has been witnessed on the battle-field. How many of the strong and the powerful among mankind, have the murder-working engines of war brought to a premature death.

Belangé’s figures are true to nature; there is nothing startling in them; nor anything of the conventional mannerism of the studio, which throws so much coldness into ordinary compositions. “It will be seen,” says the French critic, “that M. Belangé will take the place of Vernet and Charlet, if those gentlemen are content to rest on their laurels, or become indifferent to the art which they have so worthily exercised.”

M. Jazet has here attempted to produce a picture which shall revive all the recollections of that remarkable period, when the extraordinary career of Napoleon spread terror wherever his name and deeds were heard of. He has represented an old soldier fatigued and careworn, and has made nature itself sympathize with his feelings. The sun is setting in the west, his crimson rays dimmed by intervening clouds, while the scene around is desolate and barren.

The picture was placed in the gallery of the Palais Royal, and those who visit it readily enter into its spirit, seeing there depicted the end of a grand epoch in the history of France.

The devotion shown to the memory of Napoleon, by the spirited painter of the original picture from which this is copied, has been profitable to that talented artist. Few of his contemporaries have succeeded better than M. Bellangé, in depicting subjects which illustrate the “Imperial Epoch.”

This picture is well conceived, free and natural. It is a scene which occurred repeatedly on the battle-field in Napoleon’s campaigns. “Vive l’Empereur,” let the wound be slight or mortal; “Vive l’Empereur!” was the wounded soldier’s cry, though scarcely able to see his Captain as he passed. With such devotion as this, what had not the ‘Grand Homme’ to hope for! These were not the soldiers to abandon him. Honor, rank, riches, were not able to corrupt them. And if they had not been so patriotic; if they had not been models of military discipline;—what would they not have undertaken for love of their General, for him who had led them to victory and glory. Poor fellows! humble laborers in the vast plain of a great architect, you assisted in raising the great monument; your task should not have been without recompense.

This monumental arch stands in a circular area without the barrière of that name, at the end of the avenues in the Champs Elysées, and in front of the Palace of the Tuileries. It is of greater size than anything of the kind hitherto erected, being 133 feet in height, including the cornice and attic. The fronts are 134 feet in breadth, and the sides 67. The principal arch is 92 feet in height, and 44 in breadth: the transverse arch 56 feet by 55½. The first stone of this edifice, which was begun by the city of Paris to commemorate Napoleon’s triumph over Russia, and his alliance with the Emperor Alexander at Tilsit, was laid on the 15th of August, 1806, under the direction of Chalgrin. From the beginning of this undertaking, the work was suspended and renewed at intervals until its completion in 1830.

From the 15th to the 25th of April, Napoleon occupied himself with drawing up his last will, in which he bequeathed his orders, and a specimen of every article in his wardrobe, to his son. On the 18th, he gave directions for opening his body after death, expressing a special desire that his stomach should be examined and its appearance communicated to his son. “The symptoms,” he said, “seem to show that of all my organs the stomach is the most diseased. I am inclined to believe it is attacked with the disorder that killed my father—the physicians of Montpellier prophesied it would be hereditary in our family.”

On the third of May, it became evident that the scene was near its close. The attendants would fain have called in more medical men; but they durst not, knowing his feelings on this head: “even had he been speechless,” said one of them, “we could not have brooked his eye.” The last sacraments of the church were now administered by Vignali. He lingered on thenceforth in a stupor. On the 4th, the island was swept by a tremendous storm, which tore up almost all the trees about Longwood by the roots. The 5th was another day of tempests; and about six in the evening, Napoleon having pronounced the words “tête d’armée,” passed forever from the dreams of battle.

The Fontaine de la Victoire, built upon the Place du Châtelet, in front of the Pont au Change, was one of the first established in the French Capital.

It was also one of the first monuments raised to record the glory of the French arms. The architect Brasle superintended its erection, as well as that of others of the same nature, placed in different parts of Paris, as much for utility as for ornament.

The conception of this is simple, and its execution leaves nothing to be desired. The glorious deeds of the live years were there recorded as so many talismans. How many times have we feared that the lever, or the petard, would be applied to its destruction. But the charm of the French eagle, and of victory distributing her crowns, were safeguards, and served to awe the vandal conqueror. When the famous names of Rivoli! Lodi! Arcole! Mont-Thabor! Pyramids! Marengo! Austerlitz! Ulm! Eylau! Friedland! and Dantzic! were inscribed upon the column, who dare lay their sacrilegious hands upon it?

Napoleon was anxious to place his name on the list of those Emperors of old, whose names are rendered immortal, not so much by their own heroic or noble deeds as by the flattering notices of them in the deathless writings of poets and historians. On the occasion of his statue being first required for the Column which now stands in the Place Vendome, he directed that it should be attired as a senator of ancient Rome, and Chaudet produced the statue, of which the accompanying engraving is a faithful representation. It has since been replaced by one in military uniform.

The conclusion of Napoleon’s remarkable history is here well conceived. The mound of earth surmounted by his cap and sword, points out the last earthly tenement of the ex-Emperor; the group upon that point of the rock which juts into the sea adds considerably to the interest of the scene; few have forgotten the faithful companions of Napoleon when prisoner at St Helena. The artist, Horace Vernet, has called poetry to his aid and introduced the shades of several of the departed comrades of Napoleon, who assisted him in gaining that fame which will ever attach to his character in the future history of European nations. Two aged minstrels placed on the right of the engraving, are supposed to be recounting the history of his various exploits.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---