And had he no cause to be proud? Did the history of the world disclose a more dazzling record than his? Not born to the throne, a stranger to the purple and the gold of rank, the greatest Empire of modern times was his; and, as heir to the Cæsars, he had now caught upon his arms the grandeur and the glory of old Rome. Emperor of the West!—another Theodosius, another Charles the Great! And only a few years ago he had meekly stopped to scrape the mud of the streets off his coarse boots to avoid offence to the nose of Madame Permon: had pawned his watch for food; had moodily thought of drowning himself in the Seine because his mother had pleaded for help which he was too poor to give!
If ever mortal was justly proud, it was he,—Napoleon, the penniless son of the lawyer; Napoleon, tireless student, unwearied worker, unconquerable adventurer, resistless soldier of Fortune,—Napoleon, Emperor of France and King of Italy, whose crowns had come to him unstained of blood! He was the strongest, the wisest, the best in fight, in work, in council; and they had raised him aloft on their bucklers as the strongest had been lifted in the valiant days of old.
Nothing in Napoleon’s career was more brilliant than his triumphal progress through the Italian cities. Everything which a passionate, imaginative people could do to testify their admiration and affection, they did; and during these brief, sunny weeks when he moved amid ovations and splendors, amid rejoicings and blessings, amid music and flowers, with Josephine by his side, he probably came as near to happiness as his restless, craving nature could come. Everywhere he left indelible footprints,—roads, canals, public buildings of all sorts, mighty and useful works which made his tour memorable for all time.
Genoa, following the lead of Italy, and friendly suggestions from France, voted to unite her fortunes with those of the new Empire. The Doge and the Senate went in state to Milan, were received by Napoleon on his throne, and prayed that he would accept the ancient republic as a part of France. Graciously the modern Cæsar consented; the Doge became a French senator, and out of the territories of the republic were carved three French departments.
The little republic of Lucca caught the general infection, sent a deputation to Milan, begged at Napoleon’s hands a government and a constitution, was warmly welcomed by the Emperor, and was bestowed as an imperial fief upon his sister Elisa, wife of a Corsican fiddler named Bacciochi.
JOSEPHINE IN 1809
From a water-color by Isabey
The horror and indignation with which European kings and cabinets looked upon these encroachments can easily be imagined. With one accord they began to cry out against Napoleon’s “insatiable ambition.” England did not consider how she had despoiled France in Canada, on the Ohio, in Hindustan. Russia and Austria made no account of provinces taken from Poland or Turkey. All the great nations were growing greater; the general balance of power had been disturbed: was France alone to be denied the right to extend her system over states which asked for it, and which were dependent upon her for protection?
In January, 1805, Napoleon had written directly to the King of England, as he had done once before, asking for peace. As before, his advances had been repelled. Great Britain had already begun to knit together the threads of another coalition. An understanding existed between England, Russia, Austria, and Sweden. Naples, through her Bourbon rulers, was fawning at Napoleon’s feet, flattering and servile, while secretly she was plotting his downfall. Well aware of the storm which was gathering on the Continent, Napoleon prepared for it, but did not for an instant relax his efforts at Boulogne.