the story of mankind-第62节

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fled。



Back　to　Paris　he　went。　He　abdicated　in　favour　of　his　small

son；　but　the　allied　powers　insisted　that　Louis　XVIII；　the

brother　of　the　late　king　Louis　XVI；　should　occupy　the　French

throne；　and　surrounded　by　Cossacks　and　Uhlans；　the　dull…eyed

Bourbon　prince　made　his　triumphal　entry　into　Paris。



As　for　Napoleon　he　was　made　the　sovereign　ruler　of　the

little　island　of　Elba　in　the　Mediterranean　where　he　organised

his　stable　boys　into　a　miniature　army　and　fought　battles　on　a

chess　board。



But　no　sooner　had　he　left　France　than　the　people　began

to　realise　what　they　had　lost。　The　last　twenty　years；　however

costly；　had　been　a　period　of　great　glory。　Paris　had　been　the

capital　of　the　world。　The　fat　Bourbon　king　who　had　learned

nothing　and　had　forgotten　nothing　during　the　days　of　his

exile　disgusted　everybody　by　his　indolence。



On　the　first　of　March　of　the　year　1815；　when　the　representatives

of　the　allies　were　ready　to　begin　the　work　of　unscrambling

the　map　of　Europe；　Napoleon　suddenly　landed　near

Cannes。　In　less　than　a　week　the　French　army　had　deserted

the　Bourbons　and　had　rushed　southward　to　offer　their　swords

and　bayonets　to　the　‘‘little　Corporal。''　Napoleon　marched

straight　to　Paris　where　he　arrived　on　the　twentieth　of　March。

This　time　he　was　more　cautious。　He　offered　peace；　but　the

allies　insisted　upon　war。　The　whole　of　Europe　arose　against

the　‘‘perfidious　Corsican。''　Rapidly　the　Emperor　marched

northward　that　he　might　crush　his　enemies　before　they　should

be　able　to　unite　their　forces。　But　Napoleon　was　no　longer　his

old　self。　He　felt　sick。　He　got　tired　easily。　He　slept　when　he

ought　to　have　been　up　directing　the　attack　of　his　advance…

guard。　Besides；　he　missed　many　of　his　faithful　old　generals。

They　were　dead。



Early　in　June　his　armies　entered　Belgium。　On　the　16th

of　that　month　he　defeated　the　Prussians　under　Blucher。　But

a　subordinate　commander　failed　to　destroy　the　retreating　army

as　he　had　been　ordered　to　do。



Two　days　later；　Napoleon　met　Wellington　near　Waterloo。

It　was　the　18th　of　June；　a　Sunday。　At　two　o'clock　of　the

afternoon；　the　battle　seemed　won　for　the　French。　At　three　a

speck　of　dust　appeared　upon　the　eastern　horizon。　Napoleon

believed　that　this　meant　the　approach　of　his　own　cavalry　who

would　now　turn　the　English　defeat　into　a　rout。　At　four　o'clock

he　knew　better。　Cursing　and　swearing；　old　Blucher　drove

his　deathly　tired　troops　into　the　heart　of　the　fray。　The　shock

broke　the　ranks　of　the　guards。　Napoleon　had　no　further　reserves。

He　told　his　men　to　save　themselves　as　best　they　could；

and　he　fled。



For　a　second　time；　he　abdicated　in　favor　of　his　son。　Just

one　hundred　days　after　his　escape　from　Elba；　he　was　making

for　the　coast。　He　intended　to　go　to　America。　In　the　year

1803；　for　a　mere　song；　he　had　sold　the　French　colony　of

Louisiana　（which　was　in　great　danger　of　being　captured　by

the　English）　to　the　young　American　Republic。　‘‘The　Americans；''

so　he　said；　‘‘will　be　grateful　and　will　give　me　a　little　bit

of　land　and　a　house　where　I　may　spend　the　last　days　of　my　life

in　peace　and　quiet。''　But　the　English　fleet　was　watching　all

French　harbours。　Caught　between　the　armies　of　the　Allies

and　the　ships　of　the　British；　Napoleon　had　no　choice。　The

Prussians　intended　to　shoot　him。　The　English　might　be　more

generous。　At　Rochefort　he　waited　in　the　hope　that　something

might　turn　up。　One　month　after　Waterloo；　he　received　orders

from　the　new　French　government　to　leave　French　soil　inside

of　twenty…four　hours。　Always　the　tragedian；　he　wrote　a　letter

to　the　Prince　Regent　of　England　（George　IV；　the　king；　was

in　an　insane　asylum）　informing　His　Royal　Highness　of　his

intention　to　‘‘throw　himself　upon　the　mercy　of　his　enemies　and

like　Themistocles；　to　look　for　a　welcome　at　the　fireside　of　his

foes　。　。　。



On　the　15th　of　July　he　went　on　board　the　‘‘Bellerophon；''

and　surrendered　his　sword　to　Admiral　Hotham。　At　Plymouth

he　was　transferred　to　the　‘‘Northumberland''　which　carried　him

to　St。　Helena。　There　he　spent　the　last　seven　years　of　his

life。　He　tried　to　write　his　memoirs；　he　quarrelled　with　his

keepers　and　he　dreamed　of　past　times。　Curiously　enough　he

returned　（at　least　in　his　imagination）　to　his　original　point　of

departure。　He　remembered　the　days　when　he　had　fought　the

battles　of　the　Revolution。　He　tried　to　convince　himself　that

he　had　always　been　the　true　friend　of　those　great　principles　of

‘‘Liberty；　Fraternity　and　Equality''　which　the　ragged　soldiers

of　the　convention　had　carried　to　the　ends　of　the　earth。　He

liked　to　dwell　upon　his　career　as　Commander…in…Chief　and

Consul。　He　rarely　spoke　of　the　Empire。　Sometimes　he

thought　of　his　son；　the　Duke　of　Reichstadt；　the　little　eagle；

who　lived　in　Vienna；　where　he　was　treated　as　a　‘‘poor　relation''

by　his　young　Habsburg　cousins；　whose　fathers　had　trembled　at

the　very　mention　of　the　name　of　Him。　When　the　end　came；

he　was　leading　his　troops　to　victory。　He　ordered　Ney　to　attack

with　the　guards。　Then　he　died。



But　if　you　want　an　explanation　of　this　strange　career；　if

you　really　wish　to　know　how　one　man　could　possibly　rule　so

many　people　for　so　many　years　by　the　sheer　force　of　his　will；

do　not　read　the　books　that　have　been　written　about　him。　Their

authors　either　hated　the　Emperor　or　loved　him。　You　will

learn　many　facts；　but　it　is　more　important　to　‘‘feel　history''

than　to　know　it。　Don't　read；　but　wait　until　you　have　a　chance

to　hear　a　good　artist　sing　the　song　called　‘‘The　Two　Grenadiers。''

The　words　were　written　by　Heine；　the　great　German

poet　who　lived　through　the　Napoleonic　era。　The　music　was

composed　by　Schumann；　a　German　who　saw　the　Emperor；

the　enemy　of　his　country；　whenever　he　came　to　visit　his　imperial

father…in…law。　The　song　therefore　is　the　work　of　two

men　who　had　every　reason　to　hate　the　tyrant。



Go　and　hear　it。　Then　you　will　understand　what　a　thousand

volumes　could　not　possibly　tell　you。







THE　HOLY　ALLIANCE



AS　SOON　AS　NAPOLEON　HAD　BEEN　SENT　TO

ST。　HELENA　THE　RULERS　WHO　SO　OFTEN

HAD　BEEN　DEFEATED　BY　THE　HATED

‘‘CORSICAN''　MET　AT　VIENNA　AND　TRIED

TO　UNDO　THE　MANY　CHANGES　THAT　HAD

BEEN　BROUGHT　ABOUT　BY　THE　FRENCH

REVOLUTION





THE　Imperial　Highnesses；　the　Royal　Highnesses；　their

Graces　the　Dukes；　the　Ministers　Extraordinary　and　Plenipotentiary；

together　with　the　plain　Excellencies　and　their　army

of　secretaries；　servants　and　hangers…on；　whose　labours　had

been　so　rudely　interrupted　by　the　sudden　return　of　the　terrible

Corsican　（now　sweltering　under　the　hot　sun　of　St。　Helena）

went　back　to　their　jobs。　The　victory　was　duly　celebrated　with

dinners；　garden　parties　and　balls　at　which　the　new　and　very

shocking　‘‘waltz''　was　danced　to　the　great　scandal　of　the　ladies

and　gentlemen　who　remembered　the　minuet　of　the　old　Regime。



For　almost　a　generation　they　had　lived　in　retirement。　At

last　the　danger　was　over。　They　were　very　eloquent　upon　the

subject　of　the　terrible　hardships　which　they　had　suffered。

And　they　expected　to　be　recompensed　for　every　penny　they

had　lost　at　the　hands　of　the　unspeakable　Jacobins　who　had

dared　to　kill　their　anointed　king；　who　had　abolished　wigs　and

who　had　discarded　the　short　trousers　of　the　court　of　Versailles

for　the　ragged　pantaloons　of　the　Parisian　slums。



You　may　think　it　absurd　that　I　should　mention　such　a

detail。　But；　if　you　please；　the　Congress　of　Vienna　was　one

long　succession　of　such　absurdities　and　for　many　months　the

question　of　‘‘short　trousers　vs。　long　trousers''　interested　the

delegates　more　than　the　future　settlement　of　the　Saxon　or

Spanish　problems。　His　Majesty　the　King　of　Prussia　went　so

far　as　to　order　a　pair　of　short　ones；　that　he　might　give　public

evidence　of　his　contempt　for　everything　revolutionary。



Another　German　potentate；　not　to　be　outdone　in　this　noble

hatred　for　the　revolution；　decreed　that　all　taxes　which　his　subjects

had　paid　to　the　French　usurper　should　be　paid　a　second

time　to　the　legitimate　ruler　who　had　loved　his　people　from　afar

while　they　were　at　the　mercy　of　the　Corsican　ogre。　And　so　on。

From　one　blunder　to　another；　until　one　gasps　and　exclaims

‘‘but　why　in　the　name　of　High　Heaven　did　not　the　people

object？''　Why　not　indeed？　Because　the　people　were　utterly

exhausted；　were　desperate；　did　not　care　what　happened　or　how

or　where　or　by　whom　they　were　ruled；　provided　there　was

peace。　They　were　sick　and　tired　of　war　and　revolution　and

reform。



In　the　eighties　of　the　previous　century　they　had　all　danced

around　the　tree　of　liberty。　Princes　had　embraced　their　cooks

and　Duchesses　had　danced　the　Carmagnole　with　their　lackeys

in　the　honest　belief　that　the　Millennium　of　Equality　and

Fraternity　had　at　last　dawned　upon　this　wicked　world。　Instead　of

the　Millennium　they　had　been　visited　by　the　Revolutionary

commissary　who　had　lodged　a　dozen　dirty　soldiers　in　their　parlor

and　had　stolen　the　family　plate　when　he　returned　to　Paris　to

report　to　his　gov