CHAPTER II: BRIENNE

1779-1785

As we have seen, the young Corsican was only ten years of age when,

through the influence of Count Marboeuf, an old friend of the

Bonaparte family, he was admitted to the military school at Brienne.

Those who were present at the hour of his departure from home say

that Napoleon would have wept like any other child had he yielded to

the impulses of his heart, and had be not detected a smile of

satisfaction upon the lips of his brother Joseph. It was this smile

that drove all tender emotions from his breast. Taking Joseph to one

side, he requested to know the cause of his mirth.

"I was thinking of something funny," said Joseph, paling slightly as

he observed the stern expression of Napoleon's face.

"Oh, indeed," said Napoleon; "and what was that something? I'd like

to smile myself."

"H'm!--ah--why," faltered Joseph, "it may not strike you as funny,

you know. What is a joke for one man is apt to be a serious matter

for another, particularly when that other is of a taciturn and

irritable disposition."

"Very likely," said Napoleon, dryly; "and sometimes what is a joke

for the man of mirth is likewise in the end a serious matter for that

same humorous person. This may turn out to be the case in the

present emergency. What was the joke? If I do not find it a

humorous joke, I'll give you a parting caress which you won't forget

in a hurry."

"I was only thinking," said Joseph, uneasily, "that it is a very good

thing for that little ferry-boat you are going away on that you are

going on it."

Here Joseph smiled weakly, but Napoleon was grim as ever.

"Well," he said, impatiently, "what of that?"

"Why," returned Joseph, "it seemed to me that such a tireless little

worker as the boat is would find it very restful to take a Nap."

For an instant Napoleon was silent.

"Joseph," said he, as he gazed solemnly out of the window, "I thank

you from the bottom of my heart for this. I had had regrets at

leaving home. A moment ago I was ready to break down for the sorrow

of parting from my favorite Alp, from my home, from my mother, and my

little brass cannon; but now--now I can go with a heart steeled

against emotion. If you are going in for humor of that kind, I'm

glad I'm going away. Farewell."

With this, picking Joseph up in his arms and concealing him beneath

the sofa cushions, Napoleon imprinted a kiss upon his mother's cheek,

rushed aboard the craft that was to bear him to fame, and was soon

but a memory in the little house at Ajaccio. "Parting is such sweet

sorrow," murmured Joseph, as he watched the little vessel bounding

over the turquoise waters of the imprisoned sea. "I shall miss him;

but there are those who wax fat on grief, and, if I know myself, I am

of that brand."

Arrived at Paris, Napoleon was naturally awe-stricken by the

splendors of that wonderful city.

"I shall never forget the first sight I had of Paris," he said, years

later, when speaking of his boyhood to Madame Junot, with whom he was

enjoying a tete-a-tete in the palace at Versailles. "I wondered if I

hadn't died of sea-sickness on the way over, as I had several times

wished I might, and got to heaven. I didn't know how like the other

place it was at that time, you see. It was like an enchanted land, a

World's Fair forever, and the prices I had to pay for things quite

carried out the World's Fair idea. They were enormous. Weary with

walking, for instance, I hired a fiacre and drove about the city for

an hour, and it cost me fifty francs; but I fell in with pleasant

enough people, one of whom gave me a ten-franc ticket entitling me to

a seat on a park bench--for five francs."

Madame Junot laughed.

"And yet they claim that bunco is a purely American institution," she

said.

"Dame!" cried Napoleon, rising from the throne, and walking excitedly

up and down the palace floor, "I never realized until this moment

that I had been swindled! Bourrienne, send Fouche to me. I remember

the man distinctly, and if he lives he has yet to die."

Calming down, he walked to Madame Junot's side, and, taking her by

the hand, continued:

"And then the theatres! What revelations of delight they were! I

used to go to the Theatre Francais whenever I could sneak away and

had the money to seat me with the gods in the galleries. Bernhardt

was then playing juvenile parts, and Coquelin had not been heard of.

Ah! my dear Madame Junot," he added, giving her ear a delicate pinch,

"those were the days when life seemed worth the living--when one of a

taciturn nature and prone to irritability could find real pleasure in

existence. Oh to be unknown again!"

And then, Madame Junot's husband having entered the room, the Emperor

once more relapsed into a moody silence.

But to return to Brienne. Napoleon soon found that there is a gulf

measurable by no calculable distance between existence as the

dominating force of a family and life as a new boy at a boarding-

school. He found his position reversed, and he began for the first

time in his life to appreciate the virtues of his brother Joseph. He

who had been the victorious general crossing the Alps now found

himself the Alp, with a dozen victorious generals crossing him; he

who had been the gunner was now the target, and his present inability

to express his feelings in language which his tormentors could

understand, for he had not yet mastered the French tongue, kept him

in a state of being which may well be termed volcanic.

"I simply raged within in those days," Napoleon once said to Las

Casas. "I could have swallowed my food raw and it would have been

cooked on its way down, I boiled so. They took me for a snow-clad

Alp, when, as a matter of fact, I was a small Vesuvius, with a

temperature that would have made Tabasco sauce seem like iced water

by contrast."

His treatment at the hands of his fellow-students did much to

increase his irritability, but he kept himself well in hand, biding

the time when he could repay their insults with interest. They

jeered him because he was short--short of stature and short of funds;

they twitted him on being an alien, calling him an Italian, and

asking him why he did not seek out a position in the street-cleaning

bureau instead of endeavoring to associate with gentlemen. To this

the boy made a spirited reply.

"I am fitting myself for that," he said. "I'll sweep your Parisian

streets some day, and some of you particles will go with the rest of

the dust before my broom."

He little guessed how prophetic were these words.

Again, they tormented Napoleon on being the son of a lawyer, and

asked him who his tailor was, and whether or not his garments were

the lost suits of his father's clients, the result of which was that,

though born of an aristocratic family, the boy became a pronounced

Republican, and swore eternal enmity to the high-born. Another

result of this attitude towards him was that he retired from the

companionship of all save his books, and he became intimate with

Homer and Ossian and Plutarch--familiar with the rise and fall of

emperors and empires. Challenged to fight a duel with one of his

classmates for a supposititious insult, he accepted, and, having the

choice in weapons, chose an examination in mathematics, the one first

failing in a demonstration to blow his brains out. "That is the

safer for you," he said to his adversary. "You are sure to lose; but

the after-effects will not be fatal, because you have no brains to

blow out, so you can blow out a candle instead."

Whatever came of the duel we are not informed; but it is to be

presumed that it did not result fatally for young Bonaparte, for he

lived many years after the incident, as most of our readers are

probably aware. Had he not done so, this biography would have had to

stop here, and countless readers of our own day would have been

deprived of much entertaining fiction that is even now being

scattered broadcast over the world with Napoleon as its hero. His

love of books combined with his fondness for military life was never

more beautifully expressed than when he wrote to his mother: "With

my sword at my side and my Homer in my pocket, I hope to carve my way

through the world."

The beauty and simplicity of this statement is not at all affected by

Joseph's flippant suggestion that by this Napoleon probably meant

that he would read his enemies to sleep with his Homer, and then use

his sword to cut their heads off. Joseph, as we have already seen,

had been completely subjugated by his younger brother, and it is not

to be wondered at, perhaps, that, with his younger brother at a safe

distance, he should manifest some jealousy, and affect to treat his

sentiments with an unwarranted levity.

For Napoleon's self-imposed solitude everything at Brienne arranged

itself propitiously. Each of the students was provided with a small

patch of ground which he could do with as he pleased, and Napoleon's

use of his allotted share was characteristic. He converted it into a

fortified garden, surrounded by trees and palisades.

"Now I can mope in peace," he said--and he did.

It has been supposed by historians that it was here that Napoleon did

all of his thinking, mapping out his future career, and some of them

have told us what he thought. He dreamed of future glory always, one

of them states; but whether upon the authority of a palisade or a

tiger-lily is not mentioned. Others have given us his soliloquies as

he passed to and fro in this little retreat alone, and heard only by

the stars at night; but for ourselves, we must be accurate, and it is

due to the reader at this point that we should confess--having no

stars in our confidence--our entire ignorance as to what Napoleon

Bonaparte said, did, or thought when sitting in solitude in his

fortified bower; though if our candid impression is desired we have

no hesitation in saying that we believe him to have been in Paris

enjoying the sights of the great city during those periods of

solitude. Boys are boys in all lands, and a knowledge of that

peculiar species of human beings, the boarding-school boy, is

convincing that, given a prospect of five or six hours of

uninterrupted solitude, no youth of proper spirit would fail to avail

himself of the opportunities thus offered to see life, particularly

with a city like Paris within easy "hooky" distance.

It must also be remembered that the French had at this time abolished

the hereafter, along with the idea of a Deity and all pertaining

thereto, so that there was nothing beyond a purely temporal

discipline and lack of funds to interfere with Bonaparte's enjoyment

of all the pleasures which Paris could give. Of temporal discipline

he need have had no fear, since, it was perforce relaxed while he was

master of his solitude; as for the lack of funds, history has shown

that this never interfered with the fulfilment of Napoleon's hopes,

and hence the belief that the beautiful pictures, drawn by historians

and painted by masters of the brush, of Napoleon in solitude should

be revised to include a few accessories, drawn from such portions of

Parisian life as will readily suggest themselves.

In his studies, however, Napoleon ranked high. His mathematical

abilities were so marked that it was stated that he could square the

circle with his eyes closed and both hands tied behind his back.

"The only circle I could not square at that time," said he, "was the

family circle, being insufficiently provided with income to do so. I

might have succeeded better had not Joseph's appetite grown too fast

for the strength of my pocket; that was the only respect, however, in

which I ever had any difficulty in keeping up with my dear elder

brother." It was here, too, that he learned the inestimably

important military fact that the shortest distance between two points

is in a straight line; and that he had fully mastered that fact was

often painfully evident to such of his schoolmates as seemed to force

him to measure with his right arm the distance between his shoulder

and the ends of their noses. Nor was he utterly without wit. Asked

by a cribbing comrade in examination what a corollary was, Napoleon

scornfully whispered back:

"A mathematical camel with two humps."

In German only was he deficient, much to the irritation of his

instructor.

"Will you ever learn anything?" asked M. Bouer, the German teacher.

"Certainly," said Napoleon; "but no more German. I know the only

word I need in that language."

"And what, pray, is that?"

"Surrender; that's all I'll ever wish to say to the Germans. But

lest I get it wrong, pray tell me the imperative form of surrender in

your native tongue."

M. Bouer's reply is not known to history, but it was probably not one

which the Master of Etiquette at Brienne could have entirely

commended.

So he lived at Brienne, thoroughly mastering the science of war;

acquiring a military spirit; making no friends, but commanding

ultimately the fearsome respect of his school-mates. One or two

private interviews with little aristocrats who jeered at him for his

ancestry convinced them that while he might not have had illustrious

ancestors, it was not unlikely that he would in time develop

illustrious descendants, and the jeerings and sneerings soon ceased.

The climax of Bonaparte's career at Brienne was in 1784, when he

directed a snowball fight between two evenly divided branches of the

school with such effect that one boy had his skull cracked and the

rest were laid up for weeks from their wounds.

"It was a wonderful fight," remarked Napoleon, during his campaign in

Egypt. "I took good care that an occasional missent ball should bowl

off the hat of M. Bouer, and whenever any particularly aristocratic

aristocrat's head showed itself above the ramparts, an avalanche fell

upon his facade with a dull, sickening thud. I have never seen an

American college football game, but from all I can learn from

accounts in the Paris editions of the American newspapers the effects

physical in our fight and that game are about the same."

In 1784, shortly after this episode, Napoleon left Brienne, having

learned all that those in authority there could teach him, and in

1785 he applied for and received admission to the regular army, much

to the relief of Joseph.

"If he had flunked and come back to Corsica to live," said Joseph, "I

think I should have emigrated. I love him dearly, but I'm fonder of

myself, and Corsica, large as it is, is too small to contain Napoleon

Bonaparte and his brother Joseph simultaneously, particularly as

Joseph is distinctly weary of being used as an understudy for a gory

battle-field."

Mr. Bonaparte of Corsica · 第 2 / 12 章