When Napoleon was commandant of artillery at Toulon, being at that time only twenty-four years of age, and probably not a little vain of so high a command at such a period of life, he one day caused a battery to fire for the amusement of a party of young ladies who had paid his quarters a visit, and very thoughtlessly expressed a desire to see something of war. The fire was returned and several soldiers were killed. The exhibition was unnecessary; it contributed nothing to the success of the army, and the blood shed was causelessly and unnecessarily thrown away. Napoleon regretted that incident to the last day of his life. He spoke of it at St. Helena as having been a subject of unceasing remorse. He had sacrificed to the love of childish display — the vanity of "showing off" before the ladies — the lives of several poor fellows when he knew there was no earthly necessity for it. In his defence, his extreme, youth considering the importance of the command, and the desire natural to all men, of his age to make a favorable impression upon "the ladies," may be pleaded. Probably few men in his situation would have done otherwise than he did.--But still it was a crime — a crime which brought with it a degree of remorse not accorded to all the bloodshed of his subsequent career. His friendly biographers always speak of it with regret; those who are not friendly (the English for instance), speak of it as a crime of the deepest and blackest dye. The condemnation, considering the circumstances, is much too severe; but to the honor of mankind, no writer has ever yet been found to justify, though many have attempted to extenuate, the cruelty of the deed.
While the pickets are perfectly quiet on both sides, and there is no sign of hostility on either, General Grant habitually fires shotted salutes along his whole thirty-odd miles in extent, whenever Stanton telegraphs a lie to him with regard to victories in the Valley or in Georgia. The city of Petersburg is, in part, commanded by these guns, and the shot from them must necessarily fall in the midst of its population. It must be a miracle, if life, to some extent, be not lost by every one of these shotted salutes. They do no good, they advance no interest, they are not expected to further the operations of the slege in the slightest degree. If the design be to encourage the troops by a loud noise and an imposing demonstration, it would have the same effect to fire the guns without shot as with them. The presumption is, therefore, that they are loaded with shot for the purpose of killing somebody; in other words, of perpetrating a cold-blooded murder, or, it may be, a dozen such, without expecting the slightest advantage from it. The friends of humanity in every part of the world except Christendom must regard such a deed with horror, and its perpetrator as an assassin.
In Yankeedom, however, it is looked upon in a far different light. Not one voice has been raised against the inhuman barbarity. Even in their rejoicing, these people are not satisfied without committing murder. There is novelty in the idea of firing a salute with shotted guns, and that is sufficient. Inhuman, barbarous, cold-blooded as it is, it is extolled as the noblest of modern inventions. Grant, of course, expresses no contrition, nor is it to be supposed that he feels any.
What would Scott and Alison, who have condemned Napoleon so severely for this one youthful error, say of Grant, who is already past the maturity of manhood! What will his future biographers say, if they should happen not to be Yankees! for Yankees think it all very pretty. They can make but one apology for him, and that is the best his case admits of. He is known to drink hard, and these salutes may have been the fire-works of a drunken frolic.
