"He does not spare himself any more than he does us," said one of his soldiers, "and he can pack a snow-ball with the best of us."
The General catered, too, to the amusement of his troops, and the brasses of the band broke the icy stillness of the great hills continually.
"Music's the thing," he cried, many years later, "and when we got to the top we had the most original roof-garden you ever saw. It was most inspiring, and the only thing that worried me at all was as to how Fouche was conducting our anecdote and assassination enterprise at home. Once on top of the Alps, the descent was easy. We simply lay down on our arms and slid. Down the mountain-side we thundered, and the Austrians, when they observed our impetus, gave way before us, and the first thing I knew I skated slam-bang into the Empire. Our avalanchian descent subjugated Italy; frightened the Englishmen to Alexandria, where, in the absence of a well-organized force, they managed to triumph; scared the Pope so thoroughly that he was willing to sign anything I wished; and, best of all, after a few petty delays, convinced the French people that I was too big a man for a mere consulship. It was my chamois-like agility in getting down the Alps that really made me Emperor. As for the army, it fought nobly. It was so thoroughly chilled by the Alpine venture that it fought desperately to get warm. My grenadiers, congealed to their very souls, went where the fire was hottest. They seized bomb-shells while they were yet in the air, warmed their hands upon them, and then threw them back into the enemy's camp, where they exploded with great carnage. They did not even know when they were killed, so benumbed by the cold had they become. In short, those days on the Alps made us invincible. No wonder, then, that in 1804, when I got permanently back to Paris, I found the people ready for an emperor! They were bloody years, those from 1800 to 1804, but it was not entirely my fault. I shed very little myself, but the English and the Austrians and the royalist followers would have it so, and I had to accommodate them. I did not wish to execute the Duc d'Enghien, but he would interfere with Fouche by getting up conspiracies on his own account, when I had given the conspiracy contract to one of my own ministers. The poor fellow had to die. It was a case of no die, no Empire, and I thought it best for the French people that they should have an Empire."
Those who criticise Bonaparte's acts in these years should consider these words, and remember that the great warrior in no case did any of the killing himself.
It was on the 18th of May, 1804, that the Empire was proclaimed and
Napoleon assumed his new title amid great rejoicing.
"Now for the coronation," he said. "This thing must go off in style,
Fouche. Whom shall I have to crown me?"
"Well," said Fouche, "if you are after a sensation, I'd send for Louis de Bourbon; if you want it to go off easily, I'd send for your old hatter in the Rue de Victoire; if you want to give it a ceremonial touch, I'd send for the Pope, but, on the whole, I rather think I'd do it myself. You picked it up yourself, why not put it on your own head?"
"Good idea," returned Bonaparte. "And highly original. You may increase your salary a hundred francs a week, Fouche. I'll crown myself, but I think it ought to come as a surprise, don't you?"
"Yes," said Fouche. "That is, if you can surprise the French people- -which I doubt. If you walked into Notre Dame to-morrow on your hands, with the crown of France on one foot and the diadem of Italy on the other, the people wouldn't be a bit surprised—you're always doing such things."
"Nevertheless," said Napoleon, "we'll surprise them. Send word to the Pope that I want to see him officially on December 2d at Notre Dame. If he hesitates about coming, tell him I'll walk over and bring him myself the first clear day we have."