#Napoleon’s brothers

[empirearchives]

I like that there are two dudes having a moment in the background during the signing of the treaty of Amiens.

(Also, it’s not clear if the dude in the front left is Joseph or Napoleon)

Painting: The Peace of Amiens by Jules-Claude Ziegler

[natimiles]

Ikemen Vampire: Voice Actors | Part 2

Masterlists

[goldenstarprincesses]

Don't think its talked about enough that after Waterloo, Napoleon tried to escape to the United States. And not to DC or New York City...but to New Jersey

And despite getting pretty close to a ship that could have done it, the British where like "oh the fuck NOT"

[ciderbird]

so I’m reading this book by Troitskiy that is basically a comparative analysis of the lives of Alexander I and Napoleon and it opens with their quotes about each other, and it’s just so funny because Alexander’s quotes are like

“He is an evil Genius! An anti-Christ! It’s either him or me, Napoleon or me, but we cannot rule together!”

and then Napoleon’s quotes are

“Alexander is very kind and handsome. He is one of the better monarchs Europe has to offer and he is rather smart. Did I mention he’s handsome?”

[iranoutofnicknames]

She brother zoned 12 vampire

she forgot she’s an otome mc

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Napoleon: What did you two do?

Jeanne:

Mozart:

Napoleon: You’re not in trouble, I just need to know if I have to lie to the police again or not.

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleon is a coward

At least as far as private matters are concerned. I always had suspected as much, considering how awkward he acted around Josephine until he finally told her he wanted to get rid of her. But the way he treated his brother is just shameful.

Napoleon to Berthier, Paris, 8 February 1810

My cousin, you will forward the enclosed decree through an officer to the King of Spain and to Marshal Soult, to whom he will deliver your letter. My intention is that all orders be given in accordance with this decree. I can no longer cope with the enormous expenses of my army in Spain. I want the administration of the conquered countries to be in the hands of the generals who command the provinces, so that all the resources are applied to the expenses of the army. [...]

The decree in question, imposed for financial reasons, basically stripped Joseph of his authority as king. As far as I get to understand from the letters DuCasse cites, at least some provinces were declared to be »under siege« as a whole, which basically put them under martial law and handed over all government functions to whatever marshal or general was in charge. However, it seems Napoleon did not even tell Joseph to what extent his authority had been annulled:

Berthier to Suchet, Rambouillet, 22 February 1810:

[...] The intention of the Emperor is that Aragon, which is put in a state of siege, should have the least possible communication with Madrid [i.e., with Joseph]. The fact that the province is under siege gives you full authority, and you must use all its resources to pay, clothe and feed your army. If, at last, the King were to give you orders, as General-in-Chief of the armies of Spain, with regard to the administrative part, only then must you make it clear that Aragon, being in a state of siege, forms a separate army receiving orders only from the Emperor. You sense well enough, Monsieur le Comte, that you should only make these dispositions known in the case of absolute necessity. His Majesty relies on you for the prudence which such a position requires, and he counts on your devotion to his person, and on your attachment to the French Empire. You feel that some parts of Aragon might be necessary for the new limits of France. This letter, Monsieur le Comte, is between you and me only.

[Emphasis by me]

Translation: Joseph no longer holds any authority in Spain – but try to not let him notice, so that he can have fun playing king some more. And be prepared that we at some point may just grab some territories away from under Joseph’s ass. Surely you fully understand how this is necessary, right? So – hush!

This is incredibly ugly, and it makes look Napoleon, and in extension Berthier (as he seems to have no problems with this duplicity), not look good. From now on Joseph would often be left completely in the dark, not even being told about the orders that Napoleon and Berthier gave directly to the marshals and generals governing the Spanish provinces. Which then resulted in a direct confrontation with those military gouvernors, in particular with the one who, technically, was Joseph’s chief-of-staff and thus was supposed to also be loyal to him:

Joseph to Berthier, Madrid, 25 August 1810

[...] The Marshal Duke of Dalmatia believes he can give orders below the Sierra-Morena which must be carried out exclusively to all others, these are his expressions. [...] If the orders from Sevilla can deprive me of the troops around Madrid, I am not sure that one of these mornings, when I wake up, I will not find myself a prisoner of the armed bands of Estramadura, Valencia or Siguenza.

And there again, like after the battle of Ocaña, we have the fear that Joseph’s own person might be in actual danger.

This cannot be the Emperor's intention: it is essential that his justice should express his will in a clear and strong manner.

It did, in a way, by moving the whole of the army administration to Sevilla and placing it under the command of Soult – who, independently from Joseph, also had complained to Berthier that the current situation, with everybody torn between the official authority of the king and the actual authority of the marshals, was unbearable. Joseph continues:

As for myself, I am ready for all the sacrifices compatible with my honour; but I cannot see myself treated in this way by Marshal Soult, who is no longer recognisable to me since the arrival in Seville of one of your officers who, according to what he told my royal commissioners, brings him the direct orders and instructions of the Emperor.

[Emphasis by me]

There we have it. Orders are given to the marshals and generals, Joseph is left in the dark about them, and then complains when these marshals and generals follow the orders they received. It’s as if Napoleon deliberately wanted to put Joseph in the most humiliating position, and as if he deliberately wanted to ruin any chance for Joseph’s kingdom of Spain to succeed by sowing as much tension and discontent as possible.

[yaggy031910]

Aimée Davout in her delivery bed

While I love reading and translating Davout‘s letters, I am always glad to find one written by la Maréchale Davout herself. The following letter was written in early 1813. As background information, it’s important to know that he kind of begged Aimée to organise miniature paintings:

Le 17 janvier, tandis que le maréchal remercie tendrement sa femme « des excellentes bottes fourrées » qu'on lui a envoyées et s'écrie : « Que d'obligations n'ai-je pas à ta sollicitude pour ton Louis !», la maréchale, peut-être à la même heure, lui adressait, de son lit d'accouchée, les gracieuses lignes que voici : J‘ai éparpillé ce matin les matériaux du plus charmant tableau, du plus propre a te plaire pour m‘entretenir avec toi, excellent ami. J’avais tes quatre enfants sur mon lit: J‘ai rendu Jules à as nourrice, quoiqu‘il eùt ses grands yeux bleus tout grands ouverts; j‘ai fait dinner un petit morceau de pain d‘épice à Louis pour le consoler de son renvoi; Joséphine a pris sa poupée, Léonie son Berquin et ton Aimée sa plume. Aussitôt la date mise, on m‘a rapporté ta letter du 10; je reçois maintenant exactement de tes nouvelles. Suivent mille tendres détails sur le nécessaire composé par ses ordres de tous les objets habituels de la toilette du maréchal, et la maréchale termine ainsi cette causerie. Toute à toi, mon Louis, mon unique bien, car toi et nos enfants, ce n'est qu'un, jusqu'à mon dernier soupir. Aimée.

English translation On January 17, while the marshal thanked his wife tenderly for "the excellent furry boots" which had been sent to him and exclaimed: "What obligations do I not have to your solicitude for your Louis!" The Maréchale [Aimée], perhaps at the same time, addressed the following graceful lines to him from her delivery bed: This morning I scattered the materials for the most charming picture, the one most likely to please you, in order to talk to you, my excellent friend. I had your four children on my bed: I gave Jules [the newborn baby boy] back to his nurse, even though he had his big blue eyes wide open; I had Louis [the still living eldest son] eat a little piece of gingerbread to console him for his dismissal; Joséphine [eldest living child & daughter] took her doll, Léonie [second daughter] her Berquin [I think it’s a book] & your Aimée her feather. As soon as the date was set, they brought me your letter of the 10th; I receive your news right now. This was followed by a thousand tender details about the kit she had put together with all the usual items for the Marshal's grooming, and the Maréchale ended her chat with these words. All yours, my Louis, my unique possession, because you and our children are one, until my last breath. Aimée.

Gaaaaahwd, mhmm, yes, I look up to her. 🥰🌺🌷🕊️

It‘s so saddening to know that there aren‘t that many letters of her. Nevertheless, it‘s already a privilege to be able to read any letter at all. It‘s so nice to have her voice in history as well. One can feel how protective she was over her family.

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Portrait for Barbara Childe in her fight against being a fictional lady

Thank you! We were trying to decide what to use for her.

[clove-pinks]

Familial connections were further evoked in the terms 'brother soldier' and 'brother officer', which can be found repeatedly across multiple memoirs. [...] Napier mourned a fellow officer with the admission that he had loved him 'with all a brother's affection', while Serjeant Butler was overcome by the kindness of a doctor who treated him without charge as a mark of his shared solidarity with 'an old fellow traveller and brother soldier'. Naval men shared the same concept. Nelson drew on Shakespearean fraternal imagery when commending his officers as 'Such as gallant set of fellows! Such a band of brothers! My heart swells at the thought of them!'

— Louise Carter, "Brothers in arms? Martial masculinities and family feeling in old soldiers' memoirs, 1793-1815", in Martial Masculinities: Experiencing and Imagining the Military in the Long Nineteenth Century, edited by Joanne Begiato, Michael Brown, and Anna Maria Barry.

The Hazards of War, or, Nelson Wounded, 1798 mezzotint (British Museum).

[empirearchives]

Jérôme in his daddy long leg era

Portrait of Jérôme Bonaparte by François-Joseph Kinson, c. 1807-1813, The Bowes Museum

[midwinterrmemento]

Belonging

➢ pairing: Isaac x GN!Reader [Ikemen Vampire]

➢ prompt: Winter Comforts

➢ word count: 1,610

⚠️ content warnings: None!

It’s a little bit late, but this is my entry for @scummy-writes​’s Isaac Week 2022! I wanted to make sure I wrote something for him this year because Isaac is my favorite character across all the Ikemen games and he deserves to know he’s loved, so I’m glad for the opportunity to spoil him a little :)

“Watch out!”

At the sound of Napoleon’s voice, Isaac, who was knelt down to guide a young student through a set of equations, looked up in alarm—and found that he was about to be on the receiving end of a snowball to the head.

“Gods—?!”

Thanks to his vampiric reflexes, he managed to leap out of the way just in time, tumbling backwards into the snow in the process. The snowball whizzed past and hit the wall behind him with a thwack. He stared at the spot it had struck, wide eyes blinking rapidly, as familiar shrieks of laughter filled the air.

Since it was pretty mild for a day in December, it had been Napoleon’s idea to hold lessons outside at their little neighborhood école as usual. It was shaping up to be a snowy winter, and they had already lost out on several days with the children because of bad weather. As much as he wanted to rectify that, however, Isaac had been a little unsure about the idea. After all, it was still snowing and, even if the children turned up, there was no guarantee they’d be in the mood to study. They might even get sick, being outside in the cold. He only ended up going in the end because Napoleon convinced him it would be fine.

Now, as he laid on his back in the snow, surrounded by laughing children after having narrowly dodged a snowball that might as well have been a bullet, Isaac had to question his decision to trust him.

As he turned around bewilderedly, it didn’t take long to find the culprits—a group of giggling children who were scurrying to hide behind Napoleon’s legs. While he was scolding them gently, something about the sheepish grin on his face made Isaac suspect that his fellow teacher wasn’t completely innocent in the matter himself.

“Sorry, Isaac. Seems we got a bit carried away,” Napoleon chuckled, shooing the kids out from behind him. As he walked over to offer his hand, the children’s attention followed him all the while, and Isaac felt his cheeks burning as Napoleon helped him up. He brushed the snow off his coat, trying to distract himself from the expectant stares of his students.

“I-I take it you finished your lesson early, then.”

Napoleon shrugged, gesturing at the snow falling around them. “Must be the spirit of the season. The children couldn’t focus today, they’re so excited about the holidays. I figured there wouldn’t be any harm in indulging them, letting them have a little fun.” His grin stretched across his face. “In my defense, I wasn’t expecting there to be casualties.”

At the wave of giggles that rose from the children at that, Isaac reddened, pointing out, “Well… it didn’t actually hit me, you know…”

“That’s a relief, then. You hear that, Gav?”

“Hmm?”

Napoleon glanced over his shoulder, and Isaac followed his gaze to find that Gavroche was still lingering behind him, wearing an expression that was riddled with guilt. What—oh.

“I’m sorry, Isaac!” The boy was suddenly apologizing earnestly. “I wasn’t aiming for you!”

“Oh, that’s—I don’t—”

“I didn’t mean it, honestly!”

“I-I know!” Isaac cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to reassure him. “You didn’t do it on purpose, I know. Really, it’s all right. It didn’t hit me.”

“What didn’t hit you?”

At the sound of your voice behind him, Isaac startled. He turned to find you approaching them, looking curious and a little concerned. You were holding a large canister in one hand, but before he could even ask about it or answer your question, it seemed that the entire école was suddenly running over to greet you. Excited shouts of your name filled the winter air as they swarmed you, the snowball incident apparently long forgotten already.

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief as he was no longer the center of attention, watching instead as you laughed in surprise at being swept away by the children. You shot him an apologetic smile, silently asking him to hang on for a moment. Isaac returned the gesture so as to tell you that he had received the message loud and clear.

“I told you something like this would happen,” he muttered to Napoleon, though his eyes remained focused on you. “Kids get so excitable around Christmas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the knowing grin that appeared on Napoleon’s face. Isaac coughed awkwardly, turning to face him. “What is it?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But there’s something you want to say, isn’t there?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

Napoleon nodded in your direction, as you were kneeling down to the children’s height and trying to open the canister as gracefully as possible with gloved hands. Isaac waited a moment for him to continue speaking, but Napoleon nodded at you again, more emphatically this time.

The moment Isaac turned back to look at you, he understood perfectly why Napoleon didn’t feel the need to say anything else—the sight spoke for itself.

As the lid of the canteen finally popped off, both you and the children let out a triumphant shout which, in the children’s case, quickly turned into joy upon realizing what was inside. As cold as the day had been, Isaac couldn’t help but feel warm, seeing the sweet smile on your face as you distributed portions of hot chocolate to the students, scolding them with a laugh for being impatient. He noticed the way they clung to your side, glad that they’d grown to trust and accept you as much as Napoleon and himself.

He stiffened, struck by that realization as you beckoned for the both of them to join you.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Napoleon said breezily, with a pat on Isaac’s shoulder, “but I could use some chocolate right about now.”

Isaac stayed behind for a moment just to take in the scene. The children’s laughter of protest rang in the air as Napoleon cut in line, claiming it was his right as the teacher. Evidently eager to get back to their snowball fight, some of them went running off with their cups as soon as you handed them over. Napoleon called out warningly for them to slow down and be careful, and you smiled as they turned back to wave at you.

And then, it was his turn.

“Isaac, come play with us!”

“Yeah!”

There were several cheers of agreement, and Isaac stuttered as one of the kids even grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him along. “N-Now, wait a minute...” As he saw the excitement on their faces, however, he couldn’t stop himself from huffing a soft laugh, at the same time exasperated, flustered, and amused. “I… I don’t think it would be a good idea, but I’ll watch you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy them, and the students scurried back off to their snowy battlefield, Napoleon in tow to keep an eye on them. While Isaac had never been one for snowball fights, he supposed he could understand the appeal when said snowball fight was led by one of history’s most renowned generals. 

He shook his head, chuckling—and then nearly jumped out of his own skin when he suddenly felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Ah... but at the familiar sound of your voice, all of his nerves melted away. He turned around to find you with a cup in each hand, holding one out to him. “For you and me.”

“Thank you.” He gratefully took the cup, allowing it to warm his hands through his gloves. “Cheers?”

The smile that appeared on your face as your cups clinked together made him smile, too. He wrapped his free arm around your shoulders then, drawing you close to him. It was an uncharacteristically bold display of affection for him, and you looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. As though he was only now realizing what he’d done, a twinge of embarrassment flickered on his face, but he still didn’t move away.

“It’s cold out,” he said simply, hoping you’d accept that explanation and let it drop.

“Your cheeks are turning red.”

“...It’s cold out.”

You laughed and cozied into his side, and Isaac surprised even himself by reflexively melting into your touch. At the same time, one of the students called out to him again to make sure he was watching as the snowball fight resumed. An unusual feeling of warmth washed over him.

It wasn’t just his more outgoing counterpart that brought students to the school, he’d realized. Those who had come here today even despite the weather were here for him as much as Napoleon. He was surrounded now by students who loved to see him, who focused on his lectures and hung onto his every word, who wanted him to share in their fun. He now had a friend who would help him up when he fell, a loving partner who would surprise him with a visit and bring him a hot drink to make sure he was warm, and a home waiting for him at the end of the day. He didn’t have to prove his place here—for the first time in all his years being alive, Isaac realized he truly felt at ease with the people around him.

You nudged his side then, snapping him out of his thoughts. “So, what did I miss? Something almost hit you?”

“Hm? Oh, yes... a poorly aimed snowball. But it’s all right.” Isaac looked down at you, gentle pink eyes glowing with adoration. “Everything is all right now.” 

[arrrhe]

"Mandy, are you free? Mandy?"

[terresdebrume]

Unintended consequence of being into Fellow Travelers and Band of Brothers and being reminded that The Man From U.N.C.L.E. is a movie that exists: I now want to sit Napoleon Solo, Joe Liebgott and Hawkins Fuller in a room and see what happens

ETA: Actually add Marcus to that list because that man has extremely similar issues (though he is better at working on them)

[captainknell]

Happy birthday Lucien Bonaparte! May 21, 1775

[sketchysketchiness]

Deb from Napoleon Dynamite!