Bonaparte frequently visited the school of infantry at St. Cyr, reviewed the cadets, and gave them cold collations in the park. But he had never visited the school of cavalry since its establishment, of which we were very jealous, and did all in our power to attract him. Whenever he hunted, the cadets were in grand parade on the parterre, crying, "Vive l'Empereur!" with all their young energies; he held his hat raised as he passed them; but that was all we could gain. Wise people whispered that he never would go whilst they were so evidently expecting him; that he liked to keep them always on the alert; it was good for discipline. The general took another plan, and once allowed no sign of life about the castle when the emperor passed—it was like a deserted place. But it did not take neither; he passed, as if there were no castle there. It was desesperant. When, lo! the next day but one after I had spoken to him, he suddenly galloped into the court of the castle, and the cry of the sentinel, "L'Empereur!" was the first notice they had of it. He examined into every thing. All were in undress, all at work, and this was what he wanted. In the military-schools the cadets got ammunition-bread, and lived like well-fed soldiers; but there was great outcry in the circles of Paris against the bread of the school of St. Germain's. Ladies complained that their sons were poisoned by it; the emperor thought it was all nicety, and said no man was fit to be an officer who could not eat ammunition-bread. However, being there, he asked for a loaf, which was brought, and he saw it was villanous trash, composed of pease, beans, rye, potatoes, and every thing that would make flour or meal, instead of good brown wheaten flour. He tore the loaf in two in a rage, and dashed it against the wall, and there it stuck like a piece of mortar, to the great annoyance of those whose duty it was to have attended to this. He ordered the baker to be called, and made him look at it sticking. The man was in great terror first at the emperor's anger, but, taking heart, he begged his majesty not to take his contract from him, and he would give good bread in future; at which the emperor broke into a royal and imperial passion, and threatened to send him to the galleys; but, suddenly turning round, he said, "Yes, he would allow him to keep his contract, on condition that, as long as it lasted, he should furnish the school with good white household bread, (pain de ménage,) such as was sold in the bakers' shops in Paris; that he might choose that, or lose his contract;" and the baker thankfully promised to furnish good white bread in future, at the same price.—Appendix to the 9th volume of Scott's Life of Napoleon.
CENTRE OF GRAVITY, IN REFERENCE TO SEA-SICKNESS.
Man requiring so strictly to maintain his perpendicularity, that is, to keep the centre of gravity always over the support of his body, ascertains the required position in various ways, but chiefly by the perpendicularity or known position of things about him. Vertigo, and sickness commonly called sea-sickness, because it most frequently occurs at sea, are the consequences of depriving him of his standards of comparison, or of disturbing them.
Hence on shipboard, where the lines of the masts, windows, furniture, &c. are constantly changing, sickness, vertigo, and other affections of the same class are common to persons unaccustomed to ships. Many experience similar effects in carriages, and in swings, or on looking from a lofty precipice, where known objects being distant, and viewed under a new aspect, are not so readily recognised: also in walking on a wall or roof, in looking directly up to a roof, or to the stars in the zenith, because, then, all standards disappear: on walking into a round room, where there are no perpendicular lines of light and shade, as when the walls and roof are covered with a spotted paper without regular arrangement of spot:—on turning round, as in waltzing, or on a wheel; because the eye is not then allowed to rest on the standards, &c.
At night, or by blind people, standards belonging to the sense of touch are used; and it is because on board ship, the standards both of sight and of touch are lost, that the effect is so very remarkable.
But sea-sickness also partly depends on the irregular pressure of the bowels against the diaphragm, as their inertia or weight varies with the rising and falling of the ship.
From the nature of sea-sickness, as discovered in all these facts, it is seen why persons unaccustomed to the motion of a ship, often find relief in keeping their eyes directed to the fixed shore, where it is visible; or in lying down on their backs and shutting their eyes; or in taking such a dose of exhilarating drink as shall diminish their sensibility to all objects of external sense.
Arnott's Elements of Physics.