Napoleon’s Waterloo carriage--Description of its exterior.
Some account must be given of this most interesting relic.
Ever since it first came to the Exhibition it has excited the most
lively interest, and, until it was covered in by a glazed case, visitors
enjoyed the privilege of sitting inside--a proceeding which would not
have mattered had not unscrupulous souvenir hunters abused this favour by
pilfering portions of the fabric that lined it.
Time-worn, it now stands before us, a thing of gaunt and sombre aspect.
This old war-coach offers, to those who contemplate it, a full measure of
historic reminiscence, recalling the most striking and critical episodes
in the great Corsican’s career.
He entered it at the time his power stood at its zenith, and retained it
in constant attendance upon him down to the hour he took refuge within
it, a conquered and a broken man. It was built for his campaign in
Russia. In it he travelled many a league on the road to Moscow. Bereft of
its wheels and lashed upon a sleigh, through the perils of that terrible
retreat, it safely carried him far on his way back to the gates of
Paris. With him it was sent to the Isle of Elba; thence it helped him
along on his last auspicious journey to the French capital.
[Illustration: NAPOLEON’S MILITARY CARRIAGE
Scene of its capture at Jenappe. From a colored engraving published
during the autumn of 1815.]
It assisted him on his way to Waterloo. Standing on the main road hard by
La Belle Alliance, it waited him throughout that memorable Sunday, the
18th of June, over a hundred years ago. At the end of the day’s ordeal
into it, sore and ill, he flung himself, only to struggle from it at the
point of capture to take refuge in the confusion and the shadow of the
night, leaving his hat, sword, and many other things behind him.
Deepened long ago into a monotone of dusky grey, still here and there the
old coach betrays a touch of colour, revealing a fair estimate of its
former self. Simple and modest as Imperial carriages go, nevertheless,
on a certain May day in the year 1812, as it sallied forth on its
maiden voyage, its back turned upon the old Palace of St. Cloud and its
fore-carriage set upon the highroad to Russia, it must have looked a
comely chariot--as yet unsullied by the stain of travel, and not yet
degraded by the lust of war.
By the man that made it--one Simon, of Brussels, to whom reference
has already been made--it would have been designated a _berline de
voyage_, or maybe a _carrosse a six chevaux_, by us it has been called a
travelling carriage, and technically classed as a chariot-built coach.
Dark-blue, black, and yellow, with here and there a line of red and gold,
were the colours under which it made its début.
The head, or upper part of the body, is constructed of thick
black-enamelled leather, stretching over a strong framework of ash. The
lower portion consists of finely polished wood panelling, originally of a
rich dark-blue colour. A narrow brass fillet traverses the centre of the
body, lining off its upper from its lower sections, and under this fillet
runs a delicate gilt scroll composed of the fruit, leaf, and tendrils
of the vine. This neat and unpretentious bordering, together with the
emblazonment of the Imperial arms upon the doors, constitutes the only
tangible claim the carriage has to anything in the nature of artistic
adornment.
A curious bulkhead, or boot, built out from the fore-part of the coach,
provides, among other things, the very important accommodation contingent
upon a long and unbroken journey--the opportunity of resting at full
length within it.
Under this bulkhead Napoleon’s camp bedstead still reposes, neatly
encased within a receptacle some six inches square and three feet long,
folded, ready to be withdrawn at a moment’s notice. When and where this
bedstead was last required for its master’s use are points of interest
often conjectured, but as yet not satisfied.
Placed beyond the bulkhead, unusually forward and high above the
fore-wheels, is perched the coachman’s dicky--a dicky on which the
coachman must have sat alone, for its size excludes any chance of
companionship. It is supported by slender scroll iron stays in a manner
so mobile, so sensitive to the slightest movement, that the poor jehu who
piloted the coach through those long and weary journeys we know it to
have traversed must at times have felt sorely tempted to guide his horses
from their prescribed course and to steer them away into the “Land of
Nod.”
The doors possess the simple distinction of opening in the opposite
direction from those of an ordinary English carriage, whilst the Imperial
arms--a device borrowed of the Cæsars--are still to be clearly deciphered
upon both panels.
The ponderous under-carriage might well suggest to the mind of a mechanic
an instance in which weight had far outbidden advantage in strength.
The heavy, split, crane-neck perch, the deep solid axle-bed, and the
cumbersome fore-carriage have been constructed throughout in wrought
iron, and afford a good example of the coachsmith’s work of a century
ago. The great cee springs are in keeping with the rest, heavy and
strong. The thick leather straps plying them, and carrying the full
weight of the body of the carriage and all contained within it, are still
in sound condition and quite capable of doing their work; but by way of
precaution they have now been relieved of all strain, and the weight is
borne by four iron standards springing directly from the floor.
The wheels, even compared with others of the period in which they
were made, are very heavily dished. Following the Continental manner,
the spokes are arranged in pairs, so that their spacing out might be
described as two close together and two wide apart--those placed near
together entering the rim near where the felloes join, presumably with
the object of adding strength at a weak point.
The rims are made up of seven felloes fixed together with iron clamps.
The iron tyres, heavy and rough, are secured to the rims with bolts
and nuts, instead of, as in our day, by rivets and burrs. The hubs, or
stocks, large and massive, are further strengthened by stock hoops, the
flange on the outer hoops of the fore-wheels being hexagonal, while those
on the hind-wheels are of a plain round shape.
The axles are curiously primitive--simple nut-axles used from time
immemorial--the wheels being held in position by means of strong rough
iron nuts screwed on at the extremity of the axle arms and further
secured by a pin passed through a hole at the end of them. Strangely
enough, the axle-ends are absolutely devoid of caps.
Behind on the foot-stage, or rumble, there still rests, as on the day
the vehicle was taken, the odd-looking and spacious shoe-shaped trunk
in which so many articles of apparel belonging to Napoleon were found.
This is doubtless the source from which have flowed during the past
century not a few genuine, but also numberless doubtful, belongings
attributed to the great Napoleon which have been offered for sale under
the “incontestable” sworn testimony of so many irresponsible and illusive
authorities as having been found in Napoleon’s carriage captured at
Waterloo.
The four black square metal lamps fixed in a rough-and-ready way
with iron rods to the corners of the coach have a simple and quaint
appearance, but otherwise have little about them to call for comment.
They have been made to take large wax candles, and have the usual spring
sockets to hold them.