Note 189 — Chapter VI

Napoleon the same night visited the field of battle, and he told this anecdote of it at St. Helena—"In the deep silence of a beautiful moonlight night," said the Emperor, "a dog leaping suddenly from beneath the clothes of his dead master, rushed upon us, and then immediately returned to his hiding-place, howling piteously. He alternately licked his master's face, and again flew at us; thus at once soliciting aid and threatening revenge. Whether owing to my own particular mood of mind at the moment, the time, the place, or the action itself, I know not, but certainly no incident on any field of battle ever produced so deep an impression on me. I involuntarily stopped to contemplate the scene. This man, thought I, must have had among his comrades friends; and here he lies forsaken by all except his dog! What a strange being is man! and how mysterious are his impressions! I had, without emotion, ordered battles which were to decide the fate of the army; I had beheld with tearless eyes, the execution of those operations, in the course of which numbers of my countrymen were sacrificed; and here my feelings were roused by the mournful howling of a dog. Certainly at that moment I should have been easily moved by a suppliant enemy; I could very well imagine Achilles surrendering up the body of Hector at the sight of Priam's tears."—Las Cases, tom. ii., p. 403. See also Arnault, Hist. de Napoleon; and Thibaudeau, tom. ii., p. 11.