NAPOLEON AND THE RED MAN.
Poor Bonaparte, now, every day,
Endeavoured to be wondrous gay;
To concerts, plays, and balls, he went,
To hide, it seems, his discontent.
Folks thought hostilities would cease,
For gaiety’s a sign of peace.
But soon, alas! returned his gloom,
And now our hero kept his room.
One day he wish’d to be alone,
And said he was at home to none,
When suddenly there came a knock,
Which dealt around a dreadful shock—
His counsellor of State, ’tis said,
Saw a tall man dressed all in red!
‘Your business, Sir?’—‘A secret that—
I must see Bonaparte, that’s flat’—
‘He’s not at home,’ was the reply,
The red man answer’d—‘that’s a lie!’
The Counsellor to Boney ran,
Apprising Nap of this red man—
How very great the Emp’ror’s dread—
‘Art sure? and was he dress’d in red?’
Affecting then a kind of grin—
‘No matter—shew the red man in.’
The red man, tho’, as people say,
Ne’er waited to be shewn the way,
For in he bolted—and, what’s more,
Immediately he clos’d the door—
The Counsellor of State, so shock’d
His ear, then, at the keyhole cock’d,
And tho’ the red, tall, man he fear’d,
This conversation he o’erheard—
‘Well, Emp’ror Boney—pray how do you?
This is my third appearance to you,
At Egypt once—next at Wagram—
You must remember who I am.’
‘Yes, I remember, but what is it
Has now induced this sudden visit?’
‘What is it! Nap, how can you ask?
Have you accomplish’d, pray, your task?
Four years, I for that purpose granted,
It was the very time you wanted;
And then I said—and say it now—
No longer time wou’d I allow;
’Twas quite sufficient, as you said,
And solemnly a vow you made,
That either Europe you’d subdue,
Or peace shou’d in that time ensue;
I told you, if I tricks foresaw,
That my protection I’d withdraw,
And therefore am I come again
To tell you but three months remain;
If Europe then, you have not got,
Or peace confirm’d—you’ll go to pot.’
Our hero seem’d quite panic struck,
‘Alas!’ said he, ‘I’ve had no luck—
I can’t in three months undertake
An honourable peace to make—
A longer period, therefore, fix,
Let the three months, I pray, be six.’
‘It cannot be—I’ll grant no more’—
Nap followed him unto the door—
‘Five months, I’m sure, you may allow’—
‘I won’t—mark well your sacred vow,
One or the other you must do—
Or else, depend on it you’ll rue.’
‘Then grant four months.’—‘It cannot be—
Conquer, or be at peace, in three—
Such was the task you undertook’—
Then giving a contemptuous look,
‘Three months—no longer—so good-bye’—
He said—nor waited a reply.
With indignation Boney burn’d,
While to his cab’net he return’d—
And there, as many people say,
He sullenly remain’d all day.
The English gave Napoleon the character of being very superstitious, and I believe, even now, ‘Napoleon’s Book of Fate,’ and ‘Napoleon’s Dream Book,’ are procurable.
In 1795 it is said that Napoleon paid a visit to a sorcerer named Pierre le Clerc, and expressed some doubt of his power. ‘You are wrong,’ said the magician, ‘to doubt my art. I know more than you probably imagine. There was a prophecy of a certain Count Cagliostro, uttered ten years ago, on the French Revolution, which was not then thought of. This announced that a Corsican voted or elected by the people, would finish it, probably by a Dictatorship.’ Napoleon left the old man, and, it is said, did not visit him again until the eve of the fateful 18th Brumaire.
The seer gave him a number of cards, on each of which he was to write one letter of the question he wanted to ask, which was: ‘What will become of the Corsican Napoleon Bonaparte, general, on account of the Coup d’Etat risked by him, at Paris, the 18th Brumaire, 1799?’ These cards were well mixed and handed to the conjurer, who, after some manipulation, settled on thirteen cards, having the letters B, O, P, P, I, A, I, B, I, P, A, U, F, each of which letters he interpreted as the commencement of a Latin word; and, on this basis, he constructed the following sentence: ‘Bis Oriens, Populi Princeps, In Altum Incedit; Bis Incidit; Per Anglos Ultima Fata,’—or, He rises twice Prince of the People, and hovers over the heights; twice he falls; his last fatality will come from the English.
Napoleon then took fresh cards, and wrote: ‘Josephine Marie Rose de Tascher de la Pagerie, wife of the General Napoleon Bonaparte.’ Of these Pierre le Clerc selected three letters, H, E, A, which he interpreted as ‘Herois Extinctus Amor,’—or, Love extinguishes itself in the heart of a hero.
There was a curious article in the ‘Frankfurter Journal’ of September 21, 1870, on the influence of the letter M on the life of Napoleon: ‘Marbeuf was the first to recognise the genius of Napoleon at the Military College. Marengo was the first great battle won by General Bonaparte, and Melas made room for him in Italy. Mortier was one of his best generals, Moreau betrayed him, and Marat was the first martyr to his cause. Maria Louisa shared his highest fortunes; Moscow was the abyss of ruin into which he fell. Metternich vanquished him in the field of diplomacy. Six marshals (Massena, Mortier, Marmont, Macdonald, Murat, Moncey) and twenty-six generals of division under Napoleon had the letter M for their initial. Marat, Duke of Bassano, was his most trusted counsellor. His first battle was that of Montenotte, his last Mont St. Jean, as the French term Waterloo. He won the battles of Millesimo, Mondovi, Montmirail, and Montereau; then came the storming of Montmartre. Milan was the first enemy’s capital, and Moscow the last, into which he entered victorious. He lost Egypt through Menou, and employed Miellis to take Pius VII. prisoner. Mallet conspired against him; Murat was the first to desert him, then Marmont. Three of his ministers were Maret, Montalivet, and Mallieu; his first chamberlain was Montesquieu. His last halting place in France was Malmaison. He surrendered to Captain Maitland of the Bellerophon, and his companions at St. Helena were Montholon and his valet Marchand.’