Napoleon's Young Neighbor

by Helen Leah Reed

The first of April, 1810, less than five years from the date of the Coronation, Napoleon is the centre of another brilliant ceremony. This is the day of his marriage with Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor of Austria. A year later fickle Paris is in a state of feverish excitement over the birth of the King of Rome. Napoleon, rejoicing in his little son, seems at the height of his power.

Looking at Napoleon now, we must admit that he has become an autocrat. Yet he is not a despot in the ordinary sense. Though he may like power in itself, for what it brings to him, he cares still for the prosperity of France. The country needs his strong guidance. Outside of France he has enemies on all sides. While he does not admit it, things are against him in Spain; and then, as if losing his head, he decides to march into Russia. The Emperor of Russia is now his bitter enemy. The kiss of Tilsit was soon wiped away.

If we could, we would close our eyes to the next terrible scene. Before us marches the best of the young manhood of France—hundreds of thousands of men—to a certain death. Here is the greatest army of the time, and at Borodino we see "the bloodiest fight of the century." For the French the victory is almost worse than a defeat, since they are thus beguiled farther into Russia. No one can paint adequately the horrors of that bitter campaign. Of the hundreds of thousands who had crossed the Niemen a few months earlier, only twenty thousand frost-bitten spectres stagger again over the bridge in the middle of December.

Napoleon's thoughts are gloomy enough as he rides desperately back to France, leaving his fragment of an army in charge of Murat. No one envies him now, with the world against him. Soon he hears that Joseph has been driven from Spain. Already he feels the strength of the coalition formed to overthrow him. Does he realize that Austria is no longer his friend—that Prussia is ready to fall upon him? All Germany is waking to new life, and to a great extent its energy is the result of the teachings of Napoleon himself. We see him struggling to hold his own, unwilling to admit that he has lost anything. There is likely to be discontent in France. The flower of French youth has gone with the army, and there are hardly men enough to till the ground. We glance hastily at the passing pictures. The victory at Dresden is more than balanced by the disasters at Kulm and Leipzig. The campaign of 1813 is fatal to Napoleon, who still trusts to his star.

So we pass on to the last scenes of the panorama.

It is a Sunday in January, 1814. Napoleon is in Paris, intending in a few days to go to the front. He and the Empress are holding a reception at the Tuileries, and there is a brilliant throng in the great salon. All eyes are on the Emperor and Empress as they enter the apartment. Napoleon holds by the hand a fair-haired boy of three, the little King of Rome. The child wears the uniform of the National Guard of Paris. Courtiers, crowding around the group, bow and smile. But as he scans their faces with his keen eye, Napoleon reads who are his enemies, who his friends. There are many officers of the National Guard present, and it is to them perhaps that the Emperor especially addresses himself.

"Gentlemen," he cries, "I am about to set out for the army. I intrust to you what I hold dearest in the world—my wife and my son."

Although those present do not dream that the end of Napoleon's reign is so near, they show great emotion. Tears fall and sobs are heard on all sides as his appeal reaches their hearts. Many of those present at the Tuileries this afternoon—even those nearest him—will never see Napoleon again.

In less than two days the Emperor bids his last farewell to Maria Louisa and their little son. The Empress is to be Regent during his absence. Joseph is appointed Lieutenant of France.

Then we look on the sad picture of Napoleon's last campaign, when he meets his match in the dogged Blucher. Before the end of February, Napoleon has to admit that he is conquered. He accepts the terms made by the Allies. They give him the island of Elba for a time, with money enough to keep up a certain small grandeur. Pensions are provided for Maria Louisa and the King of Rome, and even for the other Bonapartes.