Napoleon Bonaparte

Lazare-Nicolas-Marguerite Carnot was the original multi-tasker, known as the “Organizer of Victory” because he applied his background in engineering to French military operations under Napoleon Bonaparte and successfully led them to victory. His background in mathematics led to innovative ground tactics and recruitment methods. To be sure, mathematics and science never ceased to be part of his life. He was well known for his early work on kinetic energy and went on to write "La métaphysique du calcul infinitesimal" in 1797. He instilled his love of calculations in his son, Sadi Carnot, who created the second law of thermodynamics. In 1783 he published his first work, "Essai sur les machines en general". It contains a statement that suggests the principle of “energy as applied to a falling weight, and the earliest proof of the fact that kinetic energy is lost in the collision of imperfectly elastic bodies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lazare_Nicolas_Marguerite_Carnot).” In it, he described his unique approach to the sciences, and it is easy to see how such an approach could apply to the art of war.

“... the sciences are like a beautiful river, of which the course is easy to follow, when it has acquired a certain regularity; but if one wants to go back to the source, one will find it nowhere, because it is everywhere; it is spread so much [as to be] over all the surface of the earth; it is the same if one wants to go back to the origin of the sciences, one will find only obscurity, vague ideas, vicious circles; and one loses oneself in the primitive ideas.”  read more »

The agent of Napoleon’s final downfall was known as “The Beau” to his Regency peers (behind his back of course). Arthur Wellesley, Lord Wellington, was the latest in a series of military men who enjoyed the allure of masculine fashion. He fought the French for a long time in the Peninsular War, in Portugal and France. After Napoleon’s escape from Elba and his Hundred Days, Wellington and a scattered group of Allied forces met Napoleon’s diminished army on the battlefield of Waterloo. Oddly enough, I see an echo of these men from the 1810s in the male models sashaying down the runways of New York Fashion Week. Tight pants and silhouetted jackets, for sure.

Wellington’s reward was to be made a Duke, and given a magnificent dwelling, Apsley House, in the heart of London for his peacetime duties, which included one year as Prime Minister (he was less successful in his subsequent career as a politician). His specially-devised boots, created with a shoemaker’s aid for hard riding purposes, are his legacy to fashion; we know them today as Wellingtons or Wellies.

And yet you might say that the Little Corporal had the last laugh on the Iron Duke. The cult of Napoleon remained enshrined in Frenchmen’s hearts as the century progressed, culminating in a revival (albeit brief) of the Bonaparte dynasty. And there are 1799 entries under Napoleon I, Emperor of the French (1769-1821) compared to the mere 167 for Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of, (1769-1852) in the Library’s online CATNYP catalogue. That’s fame!
 
 

At the dawn of the nineteenth century, one man’s name was on everyone’s lips. Napoleon Bonaparte had seized power in France with a coup, transforming himself into a living juggernaut. At first, he paid lip service to the Revolution, but there were many who were rightly suspicious of his motives.

His time was the Romantic Era, when the cult of the individual first developed. This was the precursor to our contemporary world’s cult of the celebrity. Napoleon’s fame spread hope among those in Europe who were disillusioned with traditional monarchy. Even Beethoven worshipped at that shrine before becoming disenchanted with his hero. Napoleon’s grab for the imperial throne disappointed those who’d previously idolized him.

 
Yet despite his attempt to control all things around him, just like King Louis XIV, the new Emperor was a failure at fashion. He lost his lankiness to the good life that came with being a ruler. A short man, he preferred breeches to trousers, although they didn’t suit his thickening form. His generals, known as Marshalls of France, made up for his shortcomings. They flaunted the most dandified extremes of dress, including horsehair plumes, scads of gilt braid, and brightly colored jackets. A number of English opponents would offer laconic remarks in their journals about how this made it so much easier to aim for them on the battlefield.