Sir Walter Scott observes, on closing the history of Napoleon Bonaparte,
that the reader may be disposed to pause a moment to reflect on the
character of that wonderful person, on whom fortune showered so many
favours in the beginning and through the middle of his career, to
overwhelm its close with such deep and unwonted afflictions.
The external appearance of Napoleon was not imposing at the first
glance, his stature being only five feet six inches English. His person,
thin in youth, and somewhat corpulent in age, was rather delicate than
robust in outward appearance, but cast in the mould most capable of
enduring privation and fatigue. He rode ungracefully, and without the
command of his horse which distinguishes a perfect cavalier; so that he
showed to disadvantage when riding beside such a horseman as Murat. But
he was fearless, sat firm in his seat, rode with rapidity, and was
capable of enduring the exercise for a longer time than most men. We
have already mentioned his indifference to the quality of his food, and
his power of enduring abstinence. A morsel of food, and a flask of wine
hung at his saddle-bow, used, in his earlier campaigns, to support him
for days. In his latter wars, he more frequently used a carriage; not,
as has been surmised, from any particular illness, but from feeling in a
frame so constantly in exercise the premature effects of age.
The countenance of Napoleon is familiar to almost every one from
description, and the portraits which are found everywhere. The
dark-brown hair bore little marks of the attentions of the toilet. The
shape of the countenance approached more than is usual in the human race
to a square. His eyes were grey, and full of expression, the pupils
rather large, and the eye-brows not very strongly marked. The brow and
upper part of the countenance was rather of a stern character. His nose
and mouth were beautifully formed. The upper lip was very short. The
teeth were indifferent, but were little shown in speaking.[2] His smile
possessed uncommon sweetness, and is stated to have been irresistible.
The complexion was a clear olive, otherwise in general colourless. The
prevailing character of his countenance was grave, even to melancholy,
but without any signs of severity or violence. After death, the
placidity and dignity of expression which continued to occupy the
features, rendered them eminently beautiful, and the admiration of all
who looked on them.
[2] When at St. Helena, he was much troubled with toothache and
scurvy in the gums.
Such was Napoleon's exterior. His personal and private character was
decidedly amiable, excepting in one particular. His temper, when he
received, or thought he received, provocation, especially if of a
personal character, was warm and vindictive. He was, however, placable
in the case even of his enemies, providing that they submitted to his
mercy; but he had not that species of generosity which respects the
sincerity of a manly and fair opponent. On the other hand, no one was a
more liberal rewarder of the attachment of his friends. He was an
excellent husband, a kind relation, and, unless when state policy
intervened, a most affectionate brother. General Gourgaud, whose
communications were not in every case to Napoleon's advantage, states
him to have been the best of masters, labouring to assist all his
domestics wherever it lay in his power, giving them the highest credit
for such talents as they actually possessed, and imputing, in some
instances, good qualities to such as had them not.
There was gentleness, and even softness, in his character. He was
affected when he rode over the fields of battle, which his ambition had
strewed with the dead and the dying, and seemed not only desirous to
relieve the victims,--issuing for that purpose directions, which too
often were not, and could not be, obeyed,--but showed himself subject
to the influence of that more acute and imaginative species of sympathy
which is termed sensibility. He mentions a circumstance which indicates
a deep sense of feeling. As he passed over a field of battle in Italy,
with some of his generals, he saw a houseless dog lying on the body of
his slain master. The creature came towards them, then returned to the
dead body, moaned over it pitifully, and seemed to ask their assistance.
"Whether it were the feeling of the moment," continued Napoleon, "the
scene, the hour, or the circumstance itself, I was never so deeply
affected by any thing which I have seen upon a field of battle. That
man, I thought, has perhaps had a house, friends, comrades, and here he
lies deserted by every one but his dog. How mysterious are the
impressions to which we are subject! I was in the habit, without
emotion, of ordering battles which must decide the fate of a campaign,
and could look with a dry eye on the execution of manoeuvres which must
be attended with much loss, and here I was moved--nay, painfully
affected--by the cries and the grief of a dog. It is certain that at
that moment I should have been more accessible to a suppliant enemy, and
could better understand the conduct of Achilles in restoring the body of
Hector to the tears of Priam."[3] The anecdote at once shows that
Napoleon possessed a heart amenable to humane feelings, and that they
were usually in total subjection to the stern precepts of military
stoicism. It was his common and expressive phrase, that the heart of a
politician should be in his head; but his feelings sometimes surprised
him in a gentler mood.
[3] Las Cases, Vol. I partie 2de, p. 5.
A calculator by nature and by habit, Napoleon was fond of order, and a
friend to that moral conduct in which order is best exemplified. The
libels of the day have made some scandalous averments to the contrary,
but without adequate foundation. Napoleon respected himself too much,
and understood the value of public opinion too well, to have plunged
into general or vague debauchery.--_Scott's Life of Napoleon._
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