It's arguable that Napoleon Bonaparte was the most able person who ever lived.
All know he was a military genius. But I refer to his ability generally; of what it was about him that distinguished him from others in terms of talents, not merely what made him a great general.
By all accounts, his memory was vast. He could recognize people he had met years previously and recall the circumstances of their meeting in detail. I'm not sure whether he had what's called "photographic memory" but what he read in reports and correspondence he didn't forget, sometimes much to the chagrin of those that prepared or were mentioned in the reports.
He could focus on matters which were presented to him for decision intensely, and without being distracted by anything else. He compared his mind to a cupboard: "Different subjects and different affairs are arranged in my head as in a cupboard. When I wish to interrupt one train of thought, I shut that drawer and open another. Do I wish to sleep? I simply shut all the drawers and there I am--asleep." This intensity of directed thought to a problem must have been of great advantage to him.
He could also, however, manage while doing one thing, regardless of its significance and complexity, to address other things, sometimes minutia. It seems that micromanagement for him was not a liability, but something easily achieved, and that he excelled at it. He had enormous energy, and worked extremely hard. He would dictate on different matters to several writers at the same time. Those who worked with him found themselves exhausted when he was still eager to continue. What he could accomplish and the speed in which he accomplished it amazed people. He apparently slept for no more than 4 hours a day. While dressing after sleeping he would sometimes tear his own clothing in his impatience to go about his day.
It was apparently this eruption of nervous energy which led him to indulge in long, hot baths--the only thing known to relax him.
He could also charm just about anyone. He inspired real devotion in his soldiers and in others.
He had all the qualities which could, and did in most cases, make him a superb chief executive of a nation and military commander. He was remarkable. B.H. Liddell-Hart, in his book Strategy, wrote that he thought generals like Napoleon and Frederick the Great had the advantage over other great captains because they were also chiefs of state. What he overlooked, I think, is that at least in the case of Napoleon he was always highly involved in affairs of state, not just on the battles, even when on the battlefield or in his campaigns. Running a state and leading an army at the same time would, to me, be more challenging than leading an army.
He died when 51 years old, exiled to the island of St. Helena in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, months travel from anywhere else on the Earth. He lived there for 6 years, closely watched and guarded in isolation.
It would have been a dreary exile for someone who had so much energy, let alone someone who had ruled Europe for years. It seems that for a time he was as active as he could be on St. Helena, riding and walking about the island, preparing his memoirs. He visited and had visitors. Then, especially after Sir Hudson Lowe arrived at the island to take on the duties of governor, he gradually stopped doing most anything at all. Sometimes the old energy would return, and he would take on the role of master gardener or landscape artist, laying the foundation for the lovely gardens which still grace the area around Longwood House. But for the most part, his life became grim and boring, always seeing and interacting with the same small set of people, cooped up in a damp house on a damp, windy plain. He spent more and more time in his small bedroom on one of the two camp beds that he brought with him to the island.
The English seemed to have chosen for him a place and style of exile which was the most painful available for someone of his characteristics. They clearly had enough of him, as had all of Europe, and his escape from prior exile on the island of Elba no doubt made them wary of putting him anywhere close to that continent. But the place, together with the petty and seemingly meaningless restrictions placed on him when escape was nearly inconceivable strikes one as cruel, or perhaps mere reckless indifference combined with spite.
A cruel end for such a man. He nonetheless managed in combination with those exiled with him to create a glorious legend which survives to this day; the new Prometheus. He was right to say that his jailors would be known to history only because of their treatment of him. Was that his greatest achievement?
I can't help but wonder if it would have been possible for him to be more the First Consul, recreating the French nation from the ruins of the Revolution, and less the Emperor. Then he may have remained a wondrously capable creator rather than a destroyer. But would he have been able to refrain from war? Was war pushed upon him in some cases at least, and could he have devoted himself to civil pursuits only? What would he have achieved then? Was the world deprived of his extraordinary ability by circumstances or did he himself choose to devote them to his own glory? He was certainly careful of his own glory. He is compared by some to a condottiere, and to an extent was similar to the leaders of the Medicis, Sforzas and Borgias in their promotion of their families (which he came to regret) but I think he was more "entirely out of Plutarch" as was said of him by Paoli.
It's regrettable that he didn't address these questions while stuck on his rock in the middle of the ocean.
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