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                                HARPER'S

                         NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

                    NO. XV.--AUGUST, 1851.--VOL. III.




                          TABLE OF CONTENTS


             NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.                                  289

             THE SOMNAMBULE.                                      304

             THE HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THO^S. MORE.                    310

             REMINISCENCES OF AN ATTORNEY.                        314

             VILLAGE LIFE IN GERMANY.                             320

             A PEEP AT THE "PERAHARRA."                           322

             A TOBACCO FACTORY IN SPAIN.                          326

             INFIRMITIES OF GENIUS.                               327

             RACE HORSES AND HORSE RACES.                         329

             HARTLEY COLERIDGE.                                   334

             THE ORIENTAL SALOONS IN MADRID.                      335

             PHANTOMS AND REALITIES.--AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY.           337

             THE FEET-WASHING ON GOOD FRIDAY IN MUNICH.           349

             A PEDESTRIAN IN HOLLAND.                             351

             THE LAST PRIESTESS OF PELE.                          354

             A SPANISH BULL FIGHT.                                359

             MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.             360

             FRENCH COTTAGE COOKERY.                              369

             STUDENT LIFE IN PARIS.                               373

             A FAQUIR'S CURSE.                                    375

             LOVE AND SMUGGLING.--A STORY OF THE ENGLISH COAST.   378

             AMERICAN NOTABILITIES.                               384

             THE HUNTER'S WIFE.                                   388

             THE WARNINGS OF THE PAST.                            391

             THE PIE SHOPS OF LONDON.                             392

             MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE.             394

             Monthly Record of Current Events.                    411

             Literary Notices.                                    419

             Editor's Drawer.                                     420

             WOMAN'S EMANCIPATION.                                424

             Three Leaves from Punch.                             425

             FASHIONS FOR AUGUST.                                 431




                          NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.

                          BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT


                        I. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH.

The island of Corsica, sublimely picturesque with its wild ravines and
rugged mountains, emerges from the bosom of the Mediterranean Sea, about
one hundred miles from the coast of France. It was formerly a province
of Italy, and was Italian in its language, sympathies, and customs. In
the year 1767 it was invaded by a French army, and after several most
sanguinary conflicts, the inhabitants were compelled to yield to
superior power, and Corsica was annexed to the empire of the Bourbons.

At the time of this invasion there was a young lawyer, of Italian
extraction, residing upon the island, whose name was Charles Bonaparte.
He was endowed with commanding beauty of person, great vigor of mind,
and his remote lineage was illustrious, but the opulence of the noble
house had passed away, and the descendant of a family, whose line could
be traced far back into the twilight of the dark ages, was under the
fortunate necessity of being dependent for his support upon the energies
of his own mind. He had married Letitia Raniolini, one of the most
beautiful and accomplished of the young ladies of Corsica. Of thirteen
children born to them eight survived to attain maturity. As a successful
lawyer the father of this large family was able to provide them with an
ample competence. His illustrious descent gave him an elevated position
in society, and the energies of his mind, ever in vigorous action,
invested him with powerful influence.

The family occupied a town house, an ample stone mansion, in Ajaccio,
the principal city of the island. They also enjoyed a very delightful
country retreat near the sea-shore, a few miles from Ajaccio. This rural
home was the favorite resort of the children during the heats of summer.
When the French invaded Corsica, Charles Bonaparte, then quite a young
man, having been married but a few years, abandoned the peaceful
profession of the law, and grasping his sword, united with his
countrymen, under the banner of General Paoli, to resist the invaders.
His wife, Letitia, had then but one child, Joseph. She was expecting
soon to give birth to another. Civil war was desolating the little
island. Paoli and his band of patriots, defeated again and again, were
retreating before their victorious foes into the fastnesses of the
mountains. Letitia followed the fortunes of her husband, and,
notwithstanding the embarrassment of her condition, accompanied him on
horseback in these perilous and fatiguing expeditions. The conflict,
however, was short, and, by the energies of the sword, Corsica became a
province of France, and the Italians who inhabited the island became the
unwilling subjects of the Bourbon throne. On the 15th of August, 1769,
in anticipation of her confinement, Letitia had taken refuge in her town
house at Ajaccio. On the morning of that day she attended church, but,
during the service, admonished by approaching pains, she was obliged
suddenly to return home, and throwing herself upon a couch, covered with
an ancient piece of tapestry, upon which was embroidered the battles and
the heroes of the Illiad, she gave birth to her second son, Napoleon
Bonaparte. Had the young Napoleon seen the light two months earlier he
would have been by birth an Italian, not a Frenchman, for but eight
weeks had then elapsed since the island had been transferred to the
dominion of France.

The father of Napoleon died not many years after the birth of that child
whose subsequent renown has filled the world. He is said to have
appreciated the remarkable powers of his son, and, in the delirium which
preceded his death, he was calling upon Napoleon to help him. Madame
Bonaparte, by this event, was left a widow with eight children, Joseph,
Napoleon, Lucien, Jerome, Eliza, Pauline, and Caroline. Her means were
limited, but her mental endowments were commensurate with the weighty
responsibilities which devolved upon her. Her children all appreciated
the superiority of her character, and yielded, with perfect and
unquestioning submission, to her authority. Napoleon in particular ever
regarded his mother with the most profound respect and affection. He
repeatedly declared that the family were entirely indebted to her for
that physical, intellectual, and moral training, which prepared them to
ascend the lofty summits of power to which they finally attained. He was
so deeply impressed with the sense of these obligations that he often
said, "My opinion is that the future good or bad conduct of a child,
depends entirely upon its mother." One of his first acts, on attaining
power, was to surround his mother with every luxury which wealth could
furnish. And when placed at the head of the government of France, he
immediately and energetically established schools for female education,
remarking that France needed nothing so much to promote its regeneration
as good mothers.

Madame Bonaparte after the death of her husband, resided with her
children in their country house. It was a retired residence, approached
by an avenue overarched by lofty trees and bordered by flowering shrubs.
A smooth, sunny lawn, which extended in front of the house, lured these
children, so unconscious of the high destinies which awaited them, to
their infantile sports. They chased the butterfly; they played in the
little pools of water with their naked feet; in childish gambols they
rode upon the back of the faithful dog, as happy as if their brows were
never to ache beneath the burden of a crown. How mysterious the designs
of that inscrutable Providence, which, in the island of Corsica, under
the sunny skies of the Mediterranean, was thus rearing a Napoleon, and
far away, beneath the burning sun of the tropics, under the shade of the
cocoa groves and orange-trees of the West Indies, was moulding the
person and ennobling the affections of the beautiful and lovely
Josephine. It was by a guidance, which neither of these children sought,
that they were conducted from their widely separated and obscure homes
to the metropolis of France. There, by their united energies, which had
been fostered in solitary studies and deepest musings they won for
themselves the proudest throne upon which the sun has ever risen; a
throne which in power and splendor eclipsed all that had been told of
Roman, or Persian, or Egyptian greatness.

[Illustration: THE BIRTH-HOUSE OF NAPOLEON.]

The dilapidated villa in Corsica, where Napoleon passed his infantile
years, still exists, and the thoughtful tourist loses himself in pensive
reverie as he wanders over the lawn where those children have played--as
he passes through the vegetable garden in the rear of the house, which
enticed them to toil with their tiny hoes and spades, and as he
struggles through the wilderness of shrubbery, now running to wild
waste, in the midst of which once could have been heard the merry shouts
of these infantile kings and queens. Their voices are now hushed in
death. But the records of earth can not show a more eventful drama than
that enacted by these young Bonapartes between the cradle and the grave.

There is, in a sequestered and romantic spot upon the ground, an
isolated granite rock, of wild and rugged form, in the fissures of which
there is something resembling a cave, which still retains the name of
"Napoleon's Grotto." This solitary rock was the favorite resort of the
pensive and meditative child, even in his earliest years. When his
brothers and sisters were in most happy companionship in the garden, or
on the lawn, and the air resounded with their mirthful voices, Napoleon
would steal away alone to his loved retreat. There, in the long and
sunny afternoons, with a book in his hand, he would repose, in a
recumbent posture, for hours, gazing upon the broad expanse of the
Mediterranean, spread out before him, and upon the blue sky, which
overarched his head. Who can imagine the visions which in those hours
arose before the expanding energies of that wonderful mind?

Napoleon could not be called an amiable child. He was silent and
retiring in his disposition, melancholy and irritable in his
temperament, and impatient of restraint. He was not fond of
companionship nor of play. He had no natural joyousness or buoyancy of
spirit, no frankness of disposition. His brothers and sisters were not
fond of him, though they admitted his superiority. "Joseph," said an
uncle at that time, "is the eldest of the family, but Napoleon is its
head." His passionate energy and decision of character were such that
his brother Joseph, who was a mild, amiable, and unassuming boy, was
quite in subjection to his will. It was observed that his proud spirit
was unrelenting under any severity of punishment. With stoical firmness,
and without the shedding of a tear, he would endure any inflictions. At
one time he was unjustly accused of a fault which another had committed.
He silently endured the punishment and submitted to the disgrace, and to
the subsistence for three days on the coarsest fare, rather than betray
his companion; and he did this, not from any special friendship for the
one in the wrong, but from an innate pride and firmness of spirit.
Impulsive in his disposition, his anger was easily and violently
aroused, and as rapidly passed away. There were no tendencies to cruelty
in his nature, and no malignant passion could long hold him in
subjection.

There is still preserved upon the island of Corsica, as an interesting
relic, a small brass cannon, weighing about thirty pounds, which was the
early and favorite plaything of Napoleon. Its loud report was music to
his childish ears. In imaginary battle he saw whole squadrons mown down
by the discharges of his formidable piece of artillery. Napoleon was the
favorite child of his father, and had often sat upon his knee; and, with
a throbbing heart, a heaving bosom, and a tearful eye, listened to his
recital of those bloody battles in which the patriots of Corsica had
been compelled to yield to the victorious French. Napoleon hated the
French. He fought those battles over again