After Waterloo (June 18, 1815) the war-weary world snapped tension and sank to rest; tho’ perhaps the secret terror tremor6 was not utterly7 stilled until six years later (May 5, 1821) when Napoleon, Man of Destiny, lay dead at St. Helena.
Youth may idolize Napoleon, age may condemn9: but so long as human nature is what it is, we ordinary mortals—knowing the difficulties that attend success, eminence10, excellence11; knowing the almost insuperable obstacles that bar the way to supremacy12, be it cosmopolitan13, national, provincial14, municipal, or parochial—will ever regard with loving wonder the man who won excellence and world-wide supremacy.
It has been said that a base man or a thoroughly15 selfish man cannot truly love or inspire love. Whom did Napoleon love? History answers Napoleon. Yet Napoleon certainly inspired love. Josephine, the army, the Old Guard devotedly16 loved Napoleon. In the song from the French “To Napoleon” beginning with the[151] line, “Must thou go, my glorious Chief”, some ardent18 admirer lamenting19 Napoleon’s downfall and doom20 cries out:
“My chief, my king, my friend, adieu!
Never did I droop21 before;
Never to my sovereign sue,
As his foes23 I now implore25:
All I ask is to divide
Every peril26 he must brave;
Sharing by my hero’s side
His fall, his exile, and his grave.”
And elsewhere we read that at Napoleon’s farewell “all wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer, who had been exalted27 from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master’s knees; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating28 permission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be admitted.”
Too bad Nap didn’t die with the Old Guard. At La Belle29 Alliance in the midst of that last square of his death-devoted17 friends and lovers Napoleon should have died. “The Guard dies, it does not surrender” replied that gallant30 band as they awaited the last terrible onslaughts of the victor-breathing troops and thus were they hewn down even to a man. And while this slaughter31 of his Guard was going on, Napoleon, urged and aided by Marshal Soult, was galloping32 away from the field. Too bad Napoleon didn’t die at Waterloo.
Quatre-Bras and Ligny.
Hoping to strike a decisive blow at the Prussian forces under Blücher before they could effect a junction33 with Wellington’s advancing army, Napoleon marched upon Ligny (June 16, 1815). He left Marshal Ney at Quatre-Bras with instructions to oppose the advance of the English army towards Ligny, and to fight if necessary. Ney, taking advantage of Wellington’s temporary absence, (he had ridden across to confer with [152]Blücher and was then hastening back) resolved to attack the Anglo-Netherland forces under the Prince of Orange. He was repulsed34; nevertheless he succeeded in checking the advance of the army towards Ligny.
In the meantime Napoleon had gained a victory over eighty thousand Prussian troops under Blücher, and they were even then in ignominious35 retreat towards Wavre. Napoleon ordered Marshall Grouchy36 to follow up the Prussians and to prevent them, at any cost, from joining forces with Wellington. Blücher had been wounded at Ligny and his army thoroughly demoralized: Grouchy, with an army of thirty thousand men, seemed more than a match for such an opponent; and doubtless, Napoleon, when hastening away from Ligny to oppose his more formidable foe24, felt sure that the Prussians and Blücher were happily eliminated from the conflict confronting him.
But in that conference between Wellington and Blücher, it had been agreed upon that in case of defeat at Ligny, Blücher should retreat towards Wavre, and Wellington would withdraw towards Waterloo; so that they would still be in line of direct communication, and a union of forces might be effected. Wellington and Blücher trusted each other implicitly37. “Whether after victory or defeat, come to me at Waterloo,” said Wellington. “I will come,” answered Blücher grimly and—he came.
The following day (June 17) a reinforcement under Bülow reached Blücher at Wavre; thus the loss sustained at Ligny was made good. At Grouchy’s approach the following morning (June 18) Blücher resolved to sacrifice deliberately38 a regiment39 of seventeen thousand men in order to detain Grouchy and keep him from returning to Napoleon, while he (Blücher) and Bülow with the bulk of the Prussian army should hasten to the aid of Wellington at Waterloo.
Not at Wavre but at Waterloo was destiny at work; this Blücher knew and he acted accordingly: this Grouchy did not[153] know; and after completely routing with great slaughter the Prussians under Thielman, he kept up a meaningless pursuit following a will-o-the-wisp, whilst Napoleon, after sending to him messenger after messenger urging his aid, stood still at last and deadly pale under the gorgeous June sunset, and saw all his hopes and dreams go down in darkness as the ominous40 moving cloud emerging from the direction of Wavre and advancing, glitteringly advancing, proved to be Blücher—not Grouchy.
That deliberate leaving of seventeen thousand men as a bait in a trap for the victorious41 French forces thundering onward42 from Ligny is typical of the demon43 ingenuity44 of war. I have read somewhere that in darkest Africa the lure45 to the tiger trap is a kid securely fastened. Its fearful bleatings attract the night prowling brute46: there is a spring: then awful shrieks47 arise growing shriller and shriller as the pangs49 of being devoured50 alive grow tenser and more terrible: by this time the cannibals are upon the scene and the trap is sprung.
Seventeen thousand soldiers as kid to the tiger lure—and men call themselves civilized! Could a woman do that? No; woman is higher in the moral scale than man. And the higher, thank God, is the kinder, tenderer, the more compassionate51. Wars and all hellish machinations of cruelty must cease as the race, as a whole, advances into that higher. And advancement52, even tho’ zigzag53, shall ultimately attain54 to the higher and even to the highest. We dream so.
King Making Victory.
Perhaps no other battlefield of the historic past has been more frequently described or rendered more vivid to mental vision than the field of Waterloo. Victor Hugo’s masterly portrayal55 in Les Miserables is doubtless the best; but Sir Walter Scott, Lord Byron, Captain Siborne, and Napoleonic writers[154] ad infinitum have added richness of tonal qualities to the monochrome.
Those two long lines of undulating hills running nearly parallel, with a valley half a mile in width between; the allied56 army under Wellington on the northern ridge57, the devoted French forces on the southern; the artillery58 of each army firing incessantly60 upon the other over the heads of the combatants in the valley and on the lower slope; the forest of Soignies darkly waving in the rear of Wellington’s forces; the village and ravine at the right warding61 off a possible flank movement; the two hamlets La Haye and Papillote at the left, strongly garrisoned62 of course and then, too, expectant of Blücher’s approach from Wavre; Hougoumont, an old stone chateau63 surrounded by a copse of beech64 trees, half way down the slope nearly in front of the British right center—strongly fortified65, most important, strategic; Hougoumont—to be taken and retaken seven times during that day of destiny and held at last in flaming ruins by the British; the farm house La Haie Sainte somewhat down from the British left center, heavily garrisoned, expectant of what came; the French forces in superb battle array on the Charleroi crest66 of the hill, with an open way to France behind them and the hamlet La Belle Alliance, Napoleon’s headquarters, and their idol8 Napoleon—before: why every school-boy knows the plan of this most famous battlefield!
Had Napoleon’s star not been fatally descendant he must have won at Waterloo. His forces, seventy-two thousand, were numerically stronger than the opposing forces seventy-one thousand eight hundred and five, under Wellington; then, too, his army was a unit and unanimously devoted to him, whereas Wellington’s army was a mixup of Belgians, Dutch, Nassauers, Brunswickers, Hanoverians, with only twenty-four thousand English troops upon whom he could implicitly rely. Wellington knew and Napoleon knew that the Belgian and Netherland forces[155] would far rather be fighting under the French eagles than against them. And in truth these regiments67 did disgracefully run away from before the advancing French columns in the crisis of the strife68, and the demoralizing effect of their flight was counteracted69 only by the superhuman efforts and life-sacrificing devotedness70 of England’s two brave heroes Picton and Ponsonby.
It is true that Wellington confidently awaited a strong Prussian reinforcement, eighty thousand—and Blücher. It is equally true that owing to heavy rainfall and consequently almost impassable roads between Wavre and Waterloo, Blücher who was eagerly looked for at 3 p. m. did not reach the field until 7 p. m. and at that time the battle was practically won by the British.
Had Napoleon’s pristine71 favor been accorded him—the magic favor of fate that had made possible Areola, Rivoli, Jena, Ulmn, Wagram, Austerlitz—he would have defeated Wellington at Waterloo, advanced upon the advancing Prussians and completely routed them; and then he would have hastened to crush separately and before a junction could be effected the various contingencies72 of the Coalition73 even then converging74 upon him by way of the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees. But fate forsook75 her favorite at Waterloo. Olympian Zeus, jealous of Promethean man, has decreed that if once, then certainly not twice, shall a mortal transcend76 the lot of mortals.
It rained all night long that memorable77 seventeenth of June, the night before the battle. Of those forces that thus drearily78 bivouacked upon the opposing hills, some fifty thousand men thus passed their last night upon earth. Nature wept for them. The skies dissolved in tears at the mad folly79 of mortals. Rain, inconsolable rain, fell from the early afternoon of the seventeenth, thro’ all the night, and sobbingly80 drizzled81 late on the morning of the eighteenth as the armies went out to battle.
That dreary82 last night of life for fifty thousand men—what[156] did it mean to them! Did any flint-glitterings, struck out of sullen83 gloom, zigzag thro’ the darkness of their minds? Why should they fight? Why should they kill and be killed on the morrow? Wellington, Napoleon—what were they to the common soldier; he would be free, he would go to his home, he would live his life as God gave it to him to live. Desert on the eve of battle! Ah, no! Yet, why not?
“So free we seem, so fettered85 fast we are.” Honor bound tonight and death bound tomorrow night! Who of those sleeping in yonder tents, under the rain, shall fall tomorrow? Whom shall he kill? Who may kill—him?
“Some one has blundered.”
* * * * *
“Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.”
Again, why? Half a million men must die because Napoleon blundered—Why! And the tears of the rain made answer.
At half past eleven o’clock Sunday morning, June 18, shortly after the village church bells had ceased ringing, the French forces began descending86 the slope of the southern ridge and were soon dashing across the valley. Their first object was the capture of Hougoumont. In the words of Creasy: “Napoleon began the battle by directing a powerful force from his left wing under his brother, Prince Jerome, to attack Hougoumont. Column after column of the French now descended87 from the west of the southern heights, and assailed88 that post with fiery89 valor90, which was encountered with the most determined91 bravery. The French won the copse round the house, but a party of British Guards held the house itself throughout the day. Amid shell and shot, and the blazing fragments of part of the buildings, this obstinate92 contest was continued. But still the English held Hougoumont, tho’ the French occasionally moved forward in such numbers as enabled them to surround and mask[157] this post with part of their troops from their left wing, while others pressed onward up the slope, and assailed the British right.”
The fight then became general all along the line. As the French advanced to the left center the Dutch and Belgians under Blyant threw down their arms and fled from the field, whether as result of fright, disinclination to fight, or treachery will, perhaps, never be known. The second line consisted of two brigades of English infantry93 and with these the gallant Picton charged the advancing French columns already flushed with victory. Volley after volley thinned the advancing ranks and then, at the opportune94 moment, the British made a fierce bayonet charge. The French reeled back in confusion, halted, and staggering tried to rally, but just then a brigade of English Cavalry95 rushed down upon them. Two thousand French soldiers were taken prisoners, the artillery-men of Ney’s seventy-four advanced guns were sabered and the guns rendered useless. The British cut the throats of the horses of the artillery wagons96, and severing97 the traces, left these poor brutes98 maddened with pain to add to the horror of the slaughter. In this charge Picton fell.
At La Haie Sainte, the fortified farm house that served as protection of the British left wing, the French performed prodigies99 of valor. At last Donzelot’s infantry gained possession of this long desired point of vantage.
About 4 o’clock a corps100 of Prussians under Bülow made its appearance at the French right. This disconcerted Napoleon’s plan of general assault on the allied center. He sent ten thousand men under Lobau to hold Bülow in check.
In the meantime, Wellington ordered another assault to be made for the re-capture of La Haie Sainte. Ney repelled101 this attack, but sent for reinforcements. Napoleon sent him the cuirassiers under Milhaud. By mistake the forces of light[158] cavalry under Lefebvre-Desnouettes joined the cuirassiers and hastened to the assistance of La Haie Sainte. Ney finding himself in command of two powerful bodies of horse resolved to take the offensive; he accordingly renewed the attack upon the British center. Wellington had arranged his men in squares; these hedged in with bayonets presented an almost impenetrable front to the enemy. Still they showed signs of wavering; and Ney seeing his advantage sent hurriedly for a reinforcement of infantry; Napoleon could send no more.
Lobau had succeeded in driving Bülow out of the village (Planchenoit) on the French right; La Haie Sainte was still in the possession of the French; and could Ney have obtained the infantry he desired, historians agree that he would have succeeded in forcing the British center. That hour was the pivotal beam of the battle and it seemed about to dip in favor of France.
Nap watched the scene from the opposite hill. How his heart must have thrilled to the air of old time victory; Wagram, Austerlitz,—Waterloo!
It was evening, the western sky was crimson102 with sunset, night must soon come and end the conflict. Wellington, too, was ardently103 longing104 that “the night would come or—Blücher.”
And just then on the ominous French right whence Bülow’s division had been routed an hour ago, another darkly moving mass of men appeared. Was it Grouchy—hope! or Blücher—despair! It was Blücher. Napoleon turned deadly pale; he asked for a glass of water but in his agitation105, he spilled more than half the contents ere his trembling hand could lift the glass to his lips. Thus bitterly began Napoleon’s Waterloo.
Napoleon concentrated all his available forces, the reserve troops, and the Old Guard for one more Herculean attack upon the British. Across the plain they dashed, Ney leading the charge, and over their heads played the French artillery in an incessant59 rain of lead upon the opposing height. Men there[159] were falling under it like leaves in autumn. Wellington, observing the havoc106 wrought107 by the French guns, ordered the British Guards to lie prone108 upon the earth so as to be out of range of the bullets. As the French approached the foot of the ridge, and even as they advanced up the slope, the fire from Napoleon’s headquarters continued, but when they had fairly gained the height, the French guns ceased firing.
On rushed the devoted French columns led by Ney, bravest of the brave, who, covered with blood and dust, hatless, with clothing torn, and on foot—five horses having been shot under him—still dared to dream of victory. As the French reached the top of the hill, for one madly exultant109 moment they thought that the enemy had fled; but at Wellington’s hissing110 command, “Up, Guards, and at them!”, they stood aghast as the very earth seemed to open and pour out brigade after brigade of British Red Coats. The onslaught was awful. Over the crest of the hill and far down the slope the French were driven saber-slaughtered and slaughtering111. La Garde Reculée (The Guard is repulsed)—this cry with its ominous suggestion sped from blanched112 lip to lip. And soon the most desperate of all defeat cries Sauve qui peut! (All’s lost: save himself who can!) became general among the fleeing French forces.
At La Belle Alliance Napoleon attempted to make a rallying point; he hastily pressed his few devoted followers113 into a square, declaring it his intention to perish with them. But as it is the surgeon that has most mercilessly used his knife upon others, who shrinks back in awful dread114 from the knife as used upon himself: so Napoleon who had seen thousands of soldiers die of bloody115 wounds, could not endure for himself that which he had been willing to witness in others. As the English drew near and, seeing the hopelessness of the French position, called upon them to surrender; and even as General Cambronne gallantly116 replied, “The Guard dies; it does not surrender”, Napoleon[160] spurred back his horse, turned, and galloped117 at full speed from the field.
Exile.
Napoleon a second time signed a treaty of abdication118 just one hundred days after his flagrant violation119 of the first treaty of abdication. One hundred days of doubtful triumph and then—Waterloo: was it worth while!
The Machiavellian120 principles—honorable fraud; splendid rascality121; a ruler should combine the qualities of the fox and the lion; no matter what the means may be, the vulgar are ever caught by appearances and judge only by the event—which Napoleon had so deeply imbibed122 from perusal123 of his favorite book Il Principe, suffered sudden collapse124 of inflation and wraith-like glimmered125 as will-o-the-wisps in a bog126. That stripping away of names and epithets127 and phrases and opinions and customs and sunlight success from the—Lie: and that Lie in naked hideousness128 black-branded on the soul for self and all the world to see;—how terrible a triumph of the unseen over the seen, the real over the apparent, the truth over the lie! What Austerlitz concealed129 Waterloo revealed. Outlaw130 of Europe, execrable wretch131, vile132 miscreant133 whom no promises or vows134 could hold in honor, etc., were among the uncouth135 Teutonic free translations of Nap’s subtly soft Il Principe.
And Josephine was dead; she had died a year ago while Nap was at Elba. Josephine never knew the worst about Napoleon; she never could have known the “execrable wretch” as the Congress of Vienna knew him. Love and hate see differently the same objects. As she would gladly have followed Nap to Elba, so, too, would she have been a pitying angel at his side in the world-execration after Waterloo, and in the bitter loneliness of St. Helena. Was Nap, the real, what he was as known[161] and loved by Josephine or what he was as seen and hated by the Congress of Vienna; or neither?
That portrait of Napoleon by Delaroche comes to mind. We are sorry for Nap in his hour of ignominy; we forgive him all the sorrows that he caused—to others; we look with him fascinated into the fatal future, we grieve with the stoic136 grief of the Man of Destiny.
Meissonier’s companion pictures “1807: Friedland” and “1814: Retreat from Moscow” come to mind. Full success-sun convergent137 from Austerlitz, Jena, Wagram shines in “1807”; penumbral138 shadows gray-flecked with snows from Borodino, Moscow, Berizina lower in “1814”.
Louis David’s statuesque picture “Napoleon Crossing the Alps” comes to mind. It seems the “French Revolution on horse-back” yet controlled, goaded139 up the ascent140, led out from bleeding France, and destiny-plunging on towards Italy, Prussia, Austria, Russia.
David’s canvas “Coronation of Napoleon and Josephine” comes sadly to mind. From that rhapsody of color-splendor to bleak141 Helena surf-lashed by the sea; from that act of crowning exaltation to the signing of abdication at Fontainebleau; from that supreme142 success in life to a failure-grave under the willows143: ah! surely there throbs144 within and between these antithetic scenes all that enigmatic life may hold for us mortals. Nothing exists beyond—in pleasure or in pain, in honor or dishonor, in success or failure, in highest or lowest.
Cor ne edito (Eat not the Heart).
Napoleon spent the last six years of life on the island St. Helena (Oct. 16, 1815—May 5, 1821). There are various stories told as to his bitter loneliness whilst in exile, his ceaseless repining at fate, his chafing145 chagrin146 under the cautious coldness[162] of Sir Hudson Lowe. Nap is most frequently represented walking alone on the shore, his hands locked behind, his head lowered and his “broad brow oppressive with his mind” bent147 sullenly148 forward. Again as a caged eagle he stands for hours at a time on the rocky ledge149 looking out over the gray waste of waters with eyes straining towards France. And old ocean always inimical to Napoleon and coldly conscious of Aboukir and Trafalgar enjoys indifferently its final triumph. True to Britannia, Ruler of the Wave, the gray waters roll impenetrable to bribery150 or betrayal, impervious151 to sentiment or sympathy. Napoleon, victor of a hundred fields, king-maker, arbiter152 of Europe, is caught and caged; his eagle wings all torn and bleeding yet dash against the bars; he is eating his heart, O restless sea, and he gazes on thee: old ocean rolled responseless.
Am I tonight participant in the woe153 that had its hours of agony one hundred years ago? It seems so.
Hero Worship.
Balance is hard. And to see clearly all sides of a subject, however conducive154 to balance, is destructive of enthusiasm. Hero worship is, perhaps, a phase of hysteria, but without it there are no heroes. No name upon the historic page, from Homer’s Achilles down to Carlyle’s Cromwell, but shines with luster155 luminous156 from hero worship. Alexander, Hannibal, C?sar, Charlemagne, Napoleon—the world will ever love them, not perhaps for what they were, but for the vision splendid with which they are attended, and which was formed and fitted to them by admiring love.
Retrospect157.
As Nap paced sleeplessly158 his rock kingdom under the flaky stars, did memory ever conjure159 up a strange night scene in old Vincennes? The young Duc d’Enghien, last of the race of the[163] great Conde, was asleep in bed. Suddenly, by order of the First Consul160, the French soldiery aroused the sleeper161, dragged him from his luxurious162 couch, hurried him across the French frontier, tried him by a military commission, and then, in a ditch of the castle grounds, that very night, by order of the First Consul, they shot to death the gay young man. And they tied a lantern to his breast that it might serve as target to his heart. Did Nap see that night scene from under the flaky stars of St. Helena? His Memoires do not so record.
Did the treacherously163 yielding waves that lapped his island home ever suggest to Nap that horror scene, when after Austerlitz, as the fleeing enemy were escaping over the frozen lake, the French artillery, by order of the Emperor, played heavily upon the ice; it cracked, broke, crashed down, and thousands sank within the treacherous164 waves. Or did they softly sigh of Berezina, when the heavily laden165 bridge broke down and his own devoted soldiers and friends—those who had stood by him at Borodino, in Moscow, and in the dread Retreat—struggled in the icy waters? Nap’s Memoires do not so record.
And the dark rolling billows surf-capped—did they at times suggest low mounds166 in churchyards, or ominous ridges167 on recent battle grounds? Half a million men had died that Nap might rise and—fall. All Europe, from Lisbon to Moscow was dotted with their graves. Surely in the retrospective leisure of exile, however it may have been in the fever of the empire-strife, there was regret for all the young life suddenly darkened into death; there was awakening168 self-knowledge regretful, remorseful169; there was lamentation170 at the futility171 of it all, the horror, the agony, the shame; there was prayer, the bitter prayer of Thais of the Desert, “Thou who hast made me have mercy on me!” Maybe: not ours to know the enigmatic heart of man; we only say there is no record of such feelings in Nap’s memoirs172.
Did the year 1809 loom84 sullen in retrospect? That year held[164] in record the capture of Pope Pius VII. and his confinement173 at Savona; the ban of excommunication pronounced against Napoleon by his illustrious prisoner; and Nap’s divorce from Josephine.
The Emperor was at this time at the height of his career. He was drunk with power. In his hand as playthings were the kingdoms of Europe, and he awarded them as whim174 or pleasure urged. To his brother Joseph, too scrupulous175 to be great, Nap condescendingly gave the throne of Spain; to his brother Louis, Holland; to his brother Jerome, Westphalia; to a favorite general, Bernadotte, Sweden; to Murat, Naples. At his touch, the Holy Roman Empire—no longer, indeed, either holy or Roman or an empire—had crumbled176 into dust. Germany lay prostrate177; Austria humbled178; Russia chastened, yet friendly. Only England, secure in her watery179 kingdom, dared to oppose his plans and resist his power.
And then this madman on the dizzy height dreamed a glorious dream. The Pontiff, Pius VII., prisoner at Savona, would annul180 the marriage with Josephine; then he would marry the sister of the Tsar of Russia; then with the help of Russia he would conquer India and “so strike England to the heart.” After that “it will be possible to settle everything and have done with this business of Rome and the Pope. The cathedral of Paris will become that of the Catholic world.” And Napoleon shall be all in all. Perhaps, too, this rhapsody ended half audibly with the adulatory181 words of the prefect of Arras, “God created Napoleon and then rested from His works.”
But as seen from gray Helena, the Pope did not annul the marriage with Josephine, nor did Nap marry the sister of Tsar Alexander or long retain the friendship of Russia; nor did he conquer India and so strike England to the heart; nor did he ever have done with that business of Rome and the Pope.[165] That “business” has seen the rise and fall of many—and yet shall see.
Was Napoleon a Catholic? He died in the bosom182 of the Catholic church after having devoutly183 received the sacraments. To General Montholon he said: “I was born in the Catholic religion; I wish to fulfil the duties it imposes and to receive the succors184 it administers.” On another occasion he said, “It would rest my soul to hear Mass.” These words having been reported to the Pontiff, Pope Pius VII., one time prisoner at Savona, the gentle old man immediately petitioned the English government to send a priest to minister to the spiritual wants of Napoleon. In compliance185 with the papal request the Abbe Vignali was sent to St. Helena.
Napoleon in his Memoires, speaking of Pius VII., calls him “an old man full of tolerance186 and light”; and in euphemistic reference to his troubles with the pontiff he writes, “Fatal circumstances embroiled187 our cabinets; I regret it exceedingly.”
But whatever Nap may have been in exile at St. Helena, certainly in 1809-10, as arbiter of Europe, he was an arch enemy to the Catholic church, and he acted in flagrant violation of all that the Church stands for. And had his phenomenal success continued to favor him, he would, without doubt, have lived and died an enemy to the Church.
Napoleon never ceased to be a deist. “Who made all that, Gentlemen?” he said one night as he and his friends were gazing at the starry188 heavens. As a statesman he perceived that religion is an ally to good government, and doubtless he was sincere when he said, “A society without religion is like a ship without a compass; there is no good morality without religion.” Nap’s re-establishment of the Church in France after the Revolution, and the Concordat189 made in the beginning of his reign22; the six years spent at St. Helena and his death there, would seem to testify that Napoleon was at deepest heart a sincere child of[166] that Church so tolerant of human frailty190 and so divinely compassionate towards those who come contritely191 back from error’s devious192 ways and would sleep the last sleep in her bosom.
Let Wars Cease.
“The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore193.
And why? because it brings self-approbation:
Whereas the other, after all its glare,
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation,
Which (it may be) has not much left to spare,
A higher title or a loftier station,
Tho’ they may make Corruption194 gape195 or stare,
Yet in the end, except in Freedom’s battles—
Are nothing but a child of Murder’s rattles196.”—Byron.
The rattles of this preeminent197 child of Murder were heard in deafening198 clatter199 over all Europe for twenty years; there is a singular dearth200 of the acts that have honest fame or that conduce to self-approbation. A steely selfishness from first to last marks the career of Napoleon Bonaparte.
Nearly a hundred years have passed away since Nap’s dread Waterloo. There have been wars since then and much blood has flowed, tho’ perhaps of no one battle since Waterloo may it decisively be said that had victory gone other than it did go, all subsequent history would be essentially201 different from what it is.
Perhaps in our Civil War the three days’ battle of Gettysburg may seem to hold a determinant place. The continuance of slavery and the break up of the young Republic of the West would surely have made a momentous202 page of history—but one with which we are happily unfamiliar203. Nor would the import of that page affect only us and our Republic; both continents are now more or less favorably influenced by what we now are, so may they have been unfavorably influenced by what we might have been. But Gettysburg is too near for perfect vision. Then,[167] too, the personal element, favorable or unfavorable, is conducive to myopia. So with Waterloo, secure in a hundred years’ perspective, the Battles of Destiny end.
In a hasty glance over the historic field from Memphis, 5000 B. C. to Mexico, 1914 A. D.—the great conflicts of nations loom sullenly as blood red peaks daubing the darkness. There is no sequence; they lead nowhere; they just sullenly, luridly204 bleed. Memphis; Nineveh; Babylon; Marathon, Salamis, Syracuse, ?gospotami, Leuctra, Mantinea, Ch?ronea; Granicus, Issus, Arbela; Ipsus; Cann?, Zama, Cynoscephal?, Magnesia, Pharsalia, Philippi, Actium; Teutobergerwald; Chalons; Tours; Hastings; Orleans; Lepanto; Blenheim; Naseby; Pultova; Saratoga; Valmy; Waterloo; Gettysburg; Mukden; Adrianople; Mexico—as blood red peaks dot the darkness. Is warfare205 and concomitant hate the natural state of man? The peaks ooze206 blood in answer.
Some pessimistic glimmerings of the Epicurean philosophy seem to scintillate207 out from the past. And that philosophy, crystallized in Lucretius’ cynic saying, Homo homini lupus (One man is a wolf to another man) glitters in icicle harshness and coldness down in the darkness. And yet amidst this general censure208 of the heart of man I hear a shrill48 true cry of self exculpation209. I am not a wolf to man or beast or bird. My hands are clean; my heart is kind. Am I unique in the human nature plan? No. May I affirm of self that which I deny of others? No. My own light illumines the darkness and leads upward and on.
Cease Firing, Lay Down Your Arms, “We speak for those (dumb animals) who cannot speak for themselves”; “I would not enter on my list of friends the man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm”; “He who is not actively210 kind is cruel”—are among the utterances211 of the hour that tip the farthest pendulum-swing from old Lucretius’ snarl212. Wars must cease. The[168] searchlight of civilization’s best thought and feelings is turned full upon war—showing its hitherto darkly concealed causes; its concomitant wrongs, sufferings, shamble horrors; its calamitous213, nation-suicidal results. However necessary or inevitable214 the arbitrament by the sword may have been in the past, it is so no longer.
Let wars cease: in the name of all the bloody battlefields from Marathon to Waterloo; and in pity for all the war-woe from Egypt’s Memphis down to Mexico—let wars cease.
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consequentially
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3
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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4
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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5
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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6
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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7
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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8
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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9
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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10
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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11
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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12
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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13
cosmopolitan
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| adj.世界性的，全世界的，四海为家的，全球的 | |
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14
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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15
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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16
devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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17
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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18
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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19
lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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20
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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21
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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22
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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23
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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24
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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25
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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26
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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27
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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28
entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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29
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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30
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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31
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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32
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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33
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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34
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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35
ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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36
grouchy
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| adj.好抱怨的；愠怒的 | |
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37
implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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38
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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39
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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40
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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41
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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42
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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43
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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44
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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45
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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46
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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47
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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49
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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50
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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51
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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52
advancement
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| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
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53
zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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54
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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55
portrayal
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| n.饰演；描画 | |
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56
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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57
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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58
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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59
incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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60
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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61
warding
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| 监护，守护（ward的现在分词形式） | |
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62
garrisoned
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| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
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63
chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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64
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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65
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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66
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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67
regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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68
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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69
counteracted
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| 对抗，抵消( counteract的过去式 ) | |
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70
devotedness
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71
pristine
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|
| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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72
contingencies
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| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
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73
coalition
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| n.结合体，同盟，结合，联合 | |
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74
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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75
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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76
transcend
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| vt.超出，超越(理性等)的范围 | |
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77
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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78
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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79
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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80
sobbingly
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| 啜泣地，呜咽地，抽抽噎噎地 | |
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81
drizzled
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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83
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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84
loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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85
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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87
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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88
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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89
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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90
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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91
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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92
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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93
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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94
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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95
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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96
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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97
severing
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的现在分词 )；断，裂 | |
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98
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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99
prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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100
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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101
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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102
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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103
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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104
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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105
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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106
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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107
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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108
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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109
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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110
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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111
slaughtering
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的现在分词 ) | |
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112
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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113
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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114
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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115
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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116
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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117
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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118
abdication
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| n.辞职；退位 | |
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119
violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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120
machiavellian
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| adj.权谋的，狡诈的 | |
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121
rascality
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| 流氓性，流氓集团 | |
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122
imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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123
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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124
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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125
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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127
epithets
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| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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128
hideousness
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129
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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130
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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131
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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132
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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133
miscreant
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| n.恶棍 | |
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134
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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135
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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136
stoic
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| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
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137
convergent
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| adj.会聚的 | |
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138
penumbral
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| adj.日月半影的 | |
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139
goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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140
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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141
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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142
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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143
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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144
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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145
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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146
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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147
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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148
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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149
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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150
bribery
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| n.贿络行为，行贿，受贿 | |
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151
impervious
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| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
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152
arbiter
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| n.仲裁人，公断人 | |
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153
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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154
conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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155
luster
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| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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156
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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157
retrospect
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| n.回顾，追溯；v.回顾，回想，追溯 | |
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158
sleeplessly
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| adv.失眠地 | |
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159
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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160
consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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161
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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162
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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163
treacherously
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| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
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164
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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165
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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166
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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167
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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168
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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169
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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170
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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171
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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172
memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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173
confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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174
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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175
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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176
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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177
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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178
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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179
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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180
annul
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| v.宣告…无效，取消，废止 | |
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181
adulatory
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| adj. 谄媚的, 奉承的, 阿谀的 | |
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182
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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183
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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184
succors
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| n.救助，帮助（尤指需要时）( succor的名词复数 )v.给予帮助( succor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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185
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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186
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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187
embroiled
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| adj.卷入的；纠缠不清的 | |
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188
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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189
concordat
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| n.协定；宗派间的协约 | |
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190
frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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191
contritely
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192
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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193
gore
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| n.凝血，血污；v.（动物）用角撞伤，用牙刺破；缝以补裆；顶 | |
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194
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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195
gape
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| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
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196
rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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197
preeminent
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的 | |
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198
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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199
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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200
dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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201
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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202
momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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203
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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204
luridly
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| adv. 青灰色的(苍白的, 深浓色的, 火焰等火红的) | |
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205
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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206
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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207
scintillate
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| v.闪烁火光；放出火花 | |
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208
censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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209
exculpation
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| n.使无罪，辩解 | |
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210
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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211
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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212
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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213
calamitous
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| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
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214
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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