#@microcosme11

[isthenapoleoncute]

Rating: Cute!

Napoleons make great companions for children. Sure, it looks like the Napoleon is considering whether this boy is edible, and whether or not he should unhinge his jaw like a snake and swallow him whole as a yummy snack, but!

1.) napoleons hardly ever do that

2.) when they do, it’s usually against naughty British children who ate dessert before dinner or didn’t do well on their lessons or disappointed their parents

3.) this napoleon looks so content! And napoleons are bad liars and quick workers. If he wanted to eat the boy, he’d already be eaten

[trashpoppaea]

Review of Napoleon (2023)

So I saw Napoleon (2023).

eyes glaze over

collapses and melts into a puddle

This is possibly the most soporifically boring, relentlessly mediocre so-called "epic" I have had the misfortune to see.

Plotless, pointless, and devoid of anything approaching characterization, the movie can be best described as reenacted scenes from a wikipedia article about Napoleon as written by the Anti-Jacobin.

The whole thing is suffused with British reactionary propaganda circa 1815. The characterizations are all courtesy of the Anti-Jacobin and Rowlandson’s cartoons. Robespierre is a tyrant, Napoleon is a buffoonish loutish thug, and Josephine is a slut. There’s nothing there. There’s no character arcs, no development. Sure, it’s pretty enough, but it's boring. So, so, so boring.

While watching it, I was frequently in a fugue state, floating over my body, wondering, "what is a movie? is this what they're like now? with no drama, no characters, no arcs, no interest?"

In fact, I didn't watch it: I endured it.

Joaquin Phoenix is awful. He is completely miscast on every conceivable level. Mumbling, monotone, and charmless-- I never for one moment thought I was watching Napoleon-- it only felt like Phoenix's cosplay. He and Vanessa Kirby have so little chemistry they might as well be appearing in different movies. They supposedly have this grand obsession/love story, but this amounts to sitting in the same room staring off in boredom. There's the occasional ridiculous sex scene which is always doggie style with clothes on. But for the most part, Josephine just stands in the rain or stares off into the mist.

Oh yeah there's the occasional battle. Eh…

Napoleon’s life was filled with colorful characters like the foppish, extravagant and brave Murat, the bold and foul-mouthed Lannes, the scheming, irrepressible Fouche, and the bubbly nymphomaniac Pauline, none of whom are here, and you have a bunch of interchangeable extras standing around rooms or battlefields. The only character who makes any impression whatsoever is Edouard Philipponnat as Czar Alexander, and I would have rather had a movie starring this actor. Alas, that's not what we got.

A lot of money was spent on this movie. A lot of choices were made. The result was a bland, forgettable dud that immediately fell into a memory hole as soon I departed the theatre.

As Napoleon himself would say, BAH!

PS. @microcosme11 and I didn't watch the entire thing, because it is 2 hours and 40 minutes long. As all the restaurants in the neighborhood were closing at 10, we left half an hour early, right before Waterloo and after Josephine died of pneumonia, so we could have burgers and a richly deserved beer.

PPS. Feel free to ask me for specifics!

@thiswaycomessomethingwicked @lordansketil @joachimnapoleon @usergreenpixel @twice-told-tales @josefavomjaaga @bunniesandbeheadings @jefflion

[hudsonlowesbills]

This is a genuine question for the Napoleonic Community. I tag @josefavomjaaga in particular, because you always have good takes (tm), but also anyone else who wants to hop in ( @captainknell, @microcosme11, @empirearchives, literally anyone else. If you see this, you can speak up)

But if you were Hudson Lowe…what would you do differently?

Because I always read about how he was overly cruel and overly harsh and “stupid” (in Wellington’s terms) but… okay.

So what would you fix? We know what Hudson Lowe did. What would you do differently to sidestep the reputation?

Keep in mind you also have to not let Napoleon escape. Don’t be cheeky and say, “I charter him a boat,” no. You do have to do the job.

[suburbanbeatnik]

A book cover illustration I did for author (and Napoleon enthusiast) Diane Scott Lewis is now live! It’s for her book Napoleon's Elysium: Desire and Betrayal on St. Helena, a Kindle exclusive, with design done by the one, the only @microcosme11​. If you’re interested in Napoleon, historical romance, or just an engaging, epic read with memorable characters, drawn from history, I highly recommend it!

[histoireettralala]

Victor Hugo on Talleyrand's death

For @empirearchives who was interested, here's a translation of Victor Hugo's text about Talleyrand's death. My thanks to @microcosme11 for her help <33

Choses Vues, Victor Hugo

1838

Talleyrand

19th of May

In the Rue St-Florentin, there is a palace and a sewer.

The palace, with its noble, rich, and dull architecture, was long called "Hôtel de l'Infuntado"; today, we read on its front door: Hôtel Talleyrand. During the fourty years he lived on this street, the last host of this palace might never have set eyes on this sewer.

He was a stranged, feared, and considerable character: his name was Charles-Maurice de Périgord; he was noble as Machiavel, a priest like Gondi, defrocked like Fouché, witty as Voltaire, and lame as the devil. One could say that everything limped with him: the nobility which he had put to the service of the republic, the priesthood he had dragged on the Champ-de-Mars then threw down the drain, the marriage he had broken by twenty scandals and by a voluntary separation, the wit he dishonoured through vileness. This man, nevertheless, had grandeur.

The splendours of both regimes were mixed together inside of him: he was prince of the old kingdom of France, and prince of the French Empire.

For thirty years, from the depth of his palace, from the depth of his mind, he had just about led Europe. He had let the revolution call him "tu", and had smiled at it, ironically of course; but it had not noticed. He had approached, known, observed, pierced, stirred, upturned, delved into, mocked, intellectually fertilized all the men of his era, all the ideas of his century, and there had been a few minutes in his life when, holding in his hand the four or five fearsome threads that moved the civilized universe, he had had for a puppet Napoleon the First, Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine, Mediator of the Swiss Confederation. Such was the game this man played.

After the Revolution of July, that old race, whose grand chambellan he was, having fallen, he found himself standing on one foot and told the people of 1830, sitting, bare-armed, on a pile of cobbles: Make me your ambassador.

He had received Mirabeau's last confession and Thiers' first confidence. He had said himself he was a great poet and had made a trilogy in three dynasties: Act I, Buonaparte's Empire; Act 2, The House of Bourbon; Act 3, The House of Orleans.

He had done all of this in his palace, and, in this palace, like a spider in its web, he had attracted into it and taken successively heroes, thinkers, great men, conquerors, kings, princes, emperors, Bonaparte, Sieyès, Mme de Staël, Chateaubriand, Benjamin Constant, Alexander of Russia, Wilhelm of Prussia, Francis of Austria, Louis XVIII, Louis-Philippe, all the golden, shiny flies who buzzed in the history of those last fourty years. The whole sparkling swarm, fascinated by this man's deep eye, had successively passed under the dark door that bore, written on its architrave: Hôtel Talleyrand.

Well, the day before yesterday, 17 March, 1838, that man died. Doctors came and embalmed the corpse. For this, like the Egyptians, they first withdrew the bowels from the belly and the brain from the skull. Once done, after they had transformed the prince de Talleyrand into a mummy, and nailed this mummy in a white satin-lined coffin, they withdrew, leaving upon a table the brain, that brain which thought so many things, inspired so many men, built so many edifices, led two revolutions, fooled twenty kings, contained the world.

Once the doctors were gone, a valet entered, he saw what they had left. Hold on! they forgot this. What to do ? He remembered that there was a sewer in the street, he went there, and threw that brain into this sewer.

Finis rerum.

[usergreenpixel]

@captainknell @microcosme11 @kaxen @maggiec70 @josefavomjaaga @tairin @suburbanbeatnik @amypihcs @joachimnapoleon Guys, in Spain that one Ridley Scott movie about Napoleon will be out on November 27th. I will post both my initial impressions and a full review, rest assured. I want to see this train wreck personally.

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Don't worry @microcosme11, I can help!

Here's the transcript:

Fouché: "Außer dem König ist noch niemand informiert. Kommt er ungehindert nach Paris durch, dann bin ich der Mann, der die Generale [sic] für ihn mobilisiert hat; stößt er unterwegs auf ernsthafte Schwierigkeiten, dann wird mich der König in der ersten Erregung an die Spitze seiner Regierung rufen. [chuckles] Minister des Kaisers, Minister des Königs--: Minister werde ich auf jeden Fall."

And here's the translation:

Fouché: "Nobody has been informed yet, except for the King. If he [Napoléon] gets through to Paris unchecked, then I am the man who shall have mobilised the generals for him; if he should meet with serious difficulties along the way, then the King shall, in his first excitation, call me to the head of his government. [chuckles] Minister of the Emperor, minister of the King--: I shall become a minister at any rate."

Hundert Tage movie: you can hear Gustaf Gründgens (Fouché) speak fast in German. The court of Louis XVIII just heard that Napoleon has landed in France. Fouché says something about "minister of the emperor, minister of the king"; that's all I understand except for some words here and there.

[emperornapoleon-and-i]

@microcosme11 I strongly apologise for tagging you on this brand new post, but 'Tumblr' cannot send my message to you. I shall paste it here:

"Sorry, my previous message could not be sent. I shall try sending it again. Here it is : I have just discovered that "Joséphine Ou La Comédie Des Ambitions" is on 'Dailymotion'. All five episodes were posted by a passionate user in their original format from their 'D.V.D.' copy. You can also use a 'website' to download each video on your device. Here is the 'link' to the first episode: https://dai.ly/x8pifqw and this one is for the 'Dailymotion' 'Downloader' 'website' : https://en.savefrom.net/10-how-to-download-dailymotion-video-50.html . Awwww... That is so sweet! I have first fallen in love with him when I was twelve years old when I found one of my Dad's history magazines in the living room. His painting was printed on the back cover and it was more than love at first sight... I was in pure awe. This was the painting:"

[josefavomjaaga]

Maria Leopoldine of Austria-Este

 @microcosme11​ had asked me about this lady of the Bavarian court:

Her name is Maria Leopoldine von Österreich-Este, and she played a huge role in making sure that Max Joseph, Eugène‘s future father-in-law, inherited the title of Elector of Bavaria. As a matter of fact, it‘s a highly educating tale of how to become elector in Munich in the first place.

Unfortunately, it will need a lot of explanation, as this takes us deeply into the rivalries and century-old feuds between the different German principalities that Napoleon Bonaparte would soon know to exploit so well. Let‘s just say, Habsburg (Austria) and Wittelsbach (Bavaria) had not seen eye to eye for quite some time when the Bavarian branch of House Wittelsbach, the one holding the position of Bavarian elector, was about to go extinct.

Many branches of the family went extinct around that time, in fact, and not only of this family. Be it that centuries of inbreeding finally took their toll, be it a general unwillingness to do more than the bare minimum to ensure the family had an appropriate heir (»No, no, no. We‘ve done our duty, we‘ve had one son. It‘s not our fault he died. We‘re not doing that again!«) or even to marry an appropriate but not necessarily attractive partner with whom you could have children able to inherit – the number of males in those princely families got rather low during the 18th century.

In 1777 – twelve years before the French Revolution, just for context – Maximilian Joseph III, the last elector from the old Bavarian branch of the Wittelsbach family, died without a son. There were of course more branches of the family, most importantly the branch that held the electorate of the Palatinate, and then some less important, not ruling branches, like the Zweibrücken-Birkenfelds. Now, technically, if a German prince died without an heir, things would get all medieval: the liege – the Bavarian electorate, in this case - would fall back to the liege lord. The emperor.

The Habsburg emperor in Vienna! No f-ing way!

... said not only the Bavarians but also the kings of France and Prussia, who had no interest in Austria gaining that much territory. In order to prevent it from happening, the different Wittelsbach branches in a multitude of »house contracts« had declared several years before that the family branches would all inherit from each other if one went extinct. The Austrians might have protested against that arrangement but they had just done something quite similar in order to ensure that the last emperor‘s daughter Maria Theresia could inherit, so they were in a bad position to argue. Which doesn‘t mean they didn‘t. But after some more bad blood, even a »War of the Bavarian Succession« that is a funny story in itself, things settled down, and a guy named Karl Theodor (Charles Theodore) became elector of both Bavaria and the Palatinate.

There was a huge down-side to this advancement, from his perspective: he had to move to Bavaria. Uncivilised, almost medieval, hilly-billy Bavaria. He hated that place, and for good reasons. He was a very cultivated person, and this was a very uncultivated place (according to some, it still is *coughcough*). The Bavarians, as to them, liked this new guy in Munich about as much as he liked them. And another problem was already looming on the horizon: Karl Theodor had plenty of children – but only one son with his wife, and this son happened to die a day after he was born. Apparently this was one of those cases where the spouses thought once had been enough and refused to give it another try. And Karl Theodor could not even marry somebody else because – catholic. No divorce. And his unloved wife was in good health. To sum up: No immediate heir in this family either.

Which brings us to the Zweibrücken family branch. At the time when Karl Theodor moved to Munich, this branch of the Wittelsbach family consisted of two brothers: Karl August and Maximilian Joseph (yes, that‘s our Max, future king of Bavaria). Their father, Friedrich Michael, had died young as a military officer in French service, so they had grown up at the court of their uncle, Friedrich Michael‘s older brother Christian. Christian – just saying – had simply refused to marry a partner of equal birth and instead conducted a morganatic marriage with a French actress. A very happy one, by the way. The burden to ensure the family would continue thus had fallen to Friedrich Michael, who had married a sister of Karl Theodor‘s wife, had made her four kids (two sons, two daughters) and bedded pretty much every willing lady of the French court before accusing his wife of adultery, locking her up in some monastery (Max Joseph probably saw his mother last when he was three years old), and then getting himself killed in some war or other.

By 1778, both Friedrich Michael and Christian were dead, and as Christian‘s many children could not inherit his titles, Karl August had become Count Palatine of Zweibrücken (Deux-Ponts in French). Due to his »uncle« Karl Theodor‘s lack of a legitimate son, he and his younger brother Max Joseph also were the next heirs to the combined Bavarian and Palatine electorate.

(Karl August, older brother to future king Max Joseph)

Meanwhile in Munich, Karl Theodor really got annoyed with this gruesome country he had been forced to move into. However, for the first time in a long while this was a Bavarian elector who had good relations with the Habsburgs. After some negotiations between Munich and Vienna Karl Theodor and emperor Joseph II came up with a plan that would make everybody happy: Karl Theodor would exchange the Bavarian territory (or some portion of it) for the Austrian Netherlands. Austria would finally add Bavaria to its territory, and Karl Theodor could move to a nicer place.

This caused an uproar among the Bavarian population. Becoming Austrians? Never! - The Bavarian estates sent delegation after delegation to the Zweibrücken nephews with desperate pleas for help (they also paid these nephews‘ debts). Karl August and Max Joseph immediately protested against the plan, and it turned out that according to the fineprint in those house contracts mentioned above Karl Theodor could not make the deal with Vienna without his nephews‘ consent. Bummer.

France and Prussia also put a word in, and France did even more: When Karl August‘s only son (yet another only child) died in 1784, with little chance for a legitimate replacement, the French king personally made sure that Max Joseph, the younger brother, a great womanizer and obstinate bachelor, would get married to an appropriate lady who could give birth to many legitimate heirs of the Bavarian electorate (oh, and Louis also paid Max Joseph‘s debts. That‘s a recurring theme in the story). Max Joseph, after lots of wailing and resisting, was finally dragged in front of the altar in 1785 and, to his great surprise, found that he loved marriage life, family and children. Not necessarily enough to give up on his womanizing ways. But this whole family thing, having kids and stuff? That was also kinda fun.

(Max Joseph’s first wife Auguste Wilhelmine and their two oldest children, crown prince Ludwig and - yes, that’s little Auguste)

Let‘s fast forward a little: The French Revolution breaks out. Max Joseph, so far one of the many foreign princes in French service, looses everything and, with a wife and five children, becomes a refugee. For some time, so does his brother. Then over the next years, many people die: Max‘s first wife (he will quickly remarry), one of his daughters - and his brother Karl August. Making Max Joseph the heir apparent to the electorate of the Palatinate and of Bavaria.

Except that, in 1794, one more person died: Elector Karl Theodor‘s wife. The Austrians acted quickly and offered the mourning widower (who had 70 years of age) an archduchess as new bride in order to produce an heir with, just so Bavaria would not fall into the clutches of this former French colonel Max Joseph von Zweibrücken who was very unlikely to make any similar deals with the Habsburgs.

And now we finally can introduce the lady this is all about:

Maria Leopoldine was the daughter of Ferdinand Karl von Österreich-Este, who in turn was one of the many children of Maria Theresia (i.e. a brother to the emperors Joseph and Leopold and queens Marie Antoinette and Maria Carolina of Naples) and ruled in Milan. (A year after Maria Leopoldine had married, her family would be kicked out of their home by one Napoleon Bonaparte and his army of Italy). She was 19 years old when she was ordered to marry 70-year-old elector Karl Theodor, and a young lady with lots of self-esteem. Allegedly, when she first saw the bridegroom‘s portrait, she exclaimed: »Thank god he‘s already that old!« - Obviously, it was love on first sight.

The marriage life of the happy newly-weds turned out to be just as full of harmony and roses as could be expected: Maria Leopoldine locked her bedroom door. Well, at least for her husband. Not so much for anybody else. And to make matters worse, her new »nephew« Max Joseph showed up in Munich, as he did from time to time. Just to remind Karl Theodor who was his heir probably, but this time ostensibly to pay his homage to the new aunt Maria Leopoldine. According to a story crown prince Ludwig was told much later, Max Joseph was quite thorough about this task and, unlike his uncle, did make it into Maria Leopoldine‘s bedroom. Did I mention Max never quite gave up on his womanizing ways?

In any case, Maria Lepoldine had made up her mind: She very much preferred the nephew over her husband, thank you for asking. If there was anything she could do to ensure the Austrians (that is, her own Habsburg family!) would not receive Bavaria, she would do it.

Turns out, she could do a lot.

Fast forward to 1799. Karl Theodor suffers from a stroke while playing cards. It‘s not his first, but this one is serious. The old elector still breathes, but the doctors are agreed there‘s nothing they can do. It‘s just a matter of time now.

Time that the Austrian ambassadors in Munich want to use. Contracts for an exchange or sale of Bavarian territory to Austria have long been drawn up, all they need is the elector‘s signature! Surely now, in his last hours, Karl Theodor will not hesitate any longer? They enter the Munich Residence, talk or bribe their way into the private rooms of the elector’s family, into the elector‘s rooms, to his bedroom - and then there‘s somebody on the doorstep. Maria Leopoldine.

And. She. Will. Not. Move. - Forget Gandalf against the Balrog of Moria. Maria Leopoldine against the Habsburg ambassador was the real thing. In the end, the Austrians, most likely after lots of cursing and footstomping, had to leave. In case they hoped they would be luckier at another occasion, they were disappointed: For the first time during their marriage, Maria Leopoldine focused solely on her husband and gave him all her attention, until he breathed his last.

At which point she had all gates of Munich locked. All Austrian couriers on their way to inform Vienna were turned back. The only dispatch that did go out was one to Max Joseph, in which Maria Leopoldine declared herself Max‘s devoted subject and invited him to come to Munich and take over power as soon as possible.

Which Max did. Not necessarily as quickly and forcefully as Maria Leopoldine had acted. But it sufficed.

There was one more point in which Maria Leopoldine helped Max a lot. After her husband‘s death, state officials in the presence of the Austrian ambassador had an interview with her, inquiring if Maria Leopoldine happened to be pregnant. Because a son by Karl Theodor, even posthumously born, would have inherited before Max Joseph. She answered »No«.

Now, as chance would have it, some months later, she went on a lengthy journey that we are very badly informed about, and only returned a year later, after most likely having given birth to a child somewhere on the way. A child whose father surely had not been Karl Theodor. But the Austrians probably would not have cared.

Maria Leopoldine stayed in Munich, much beloved by Max Joseph, and became the enfant terrible of his court, had lovers in abundance, excelled at investing her money, at some point bought a farm where she, if need be, personally helped with the hay-making, and even married morganatically (possibly so she had an official father for her children). She was a close friend of Eugène but not so much of his wife. Maybe she never quite forgave Auguste that her arranged marriage had turned out so well when her own had been such a disaster.

(Maria Leopoldine in later years, with her two sons)

[nordleuchten]

15 people, 15 questions

Thank you for tagging me, @ouiouixmonami and @my-deer-friend. :-)

1. are you named after anyone?

No, but not for a lack of trying on my grandfather’s side

2. when was the last time you cried?

I honestly do not recall.

3. do you have kids?

There are few things that I like to keep private. 😉

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

I tried out a lot of things and still like to be active. There are many possibilities for water sport where I live but my absolute passion is climbing and figure/ice skating. Oh, and high jumping (Is that the right term? Because it does not feel like proper English to me.)

5. do you use sarcasm?

All the time … much to the annoyance of the people around me.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Their hands - hands tell you so much about a person’s life.

7. what’s your eye color?

Predominantly blue

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Well, this is not mutually exclusive … but if I had to choose, I take scary movies.

9. any talents?

I have quite a good memory when it comes to faces.

10. where were you born?

Somewhere in Germany

11. what are your hobbies

Reading, writing, music, hangging, out with friends ... pretty typical stuff.

12. do you have any pets?

No

13. how tall are you?

175 cm

14. favorite subject in school?

Biology – by a far stretch. But I generally truly enjoyed school.

15. dream job

Put me in a lab and I am happy as could be.

I am tagging @microcosme11, @acrossthewavesoftime and @echo-bleu - but as always, no pressure. :-)

[joachimnapoleon]

I posted 717 times in 2022

146 posts created (20%)

571 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@josefavomjaaga

@microcosme11

@joachimnapoleon

@aminoscribbles

@first-empire-fancy-boys

I tagged 634 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#art - 173 posts

#napoleon - 120 posts

#joachim murat - 101 posts

#napoleon’s marshals - 68 posts

#napoleonic wars - 65 posts

#napoleon bonaparte - 56 posts

#napoleonic - 56 posts

#memoirs - 43 posts

#letters - 39 posts

#paintings - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#but the exclusion of davout is fascinating considering he’s widely regarded as napoleon’s most competent marshal on the battlefield

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Just for fun, here are all the times in Gourgaud's diary where Napoleon laments not having Fouché shot, hanged, or guillotined (and also regrets that Louis XVIII has likewise failed in this capacity).

Source: General Gourgaud, Sainte-Hélène - journal inedit de 1815 à 1818

*** 29 November 1815 – “I should have hanged him, that was my intention. If I had been victorious at Waterloo, I would have had him shot immediately.”

29 December 1815 – We speak of the news from France… His Majesty says that the King has done well to name Richelieu Prime Minister, but he should have hanged Fouché.

2 February 1816 – At 8 o’clock, His Majesty asks for me and dictates to me for a long while, then I have lunch with him. Sadness and chess. In the evening, it is said that Fouché has been executed. The Emperor exclaims: “I always predicted he’d eventually be hanged.”

16 February 1817 – “I am not Louis XVIII, but it has always repelled me to deal with such a man. The King should’ve had him hanged.”

11 July 1817 – “I cannot understand the current conduct of Paris. Had I stayed there after Waterloo, if I had cut off a hundred heads, that of Fouché the first, I could have held on in Paris with the rabble.”

14 July 1817 – “On my return from Waterloo, I was of a mind to have Fouché’s head cut off. I’d already composed the military commission, that of the Duke d’Enghien…”

23 September 1817 –  [Speaking, again, of what he should have done after Waterloo] “I should, it is true, have had Fouché shot immediately after my arrival, he was the soul of the party, his judgment would have been shouted under the windows of the deputies to whom I could have said: ‘who invokes the tricolor flag? This is a man who fled France to take refuge with foreigners and who owes his return to Paris to me. At this moment there is no salvation except in men who love their country.’ I would have ended by demanding to purge the Chamber and by hanging seven or eight of its members and, above all, Fouché.

24 September 1817 – “I should’ve had the Duke of Otranto shot, but Laffitte prevented me from doing so. Talleyrand will maintain himself, he is a man of the Revolution, he is a priest married to a whore…”

108 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#4

See the full post

118 notes - Posted May 5, 2022

#3

The official release date of my book is this coming Friday, 11 November!!! Here’s a sneak peak of the cover:

124 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#2

So this is an actual book that exists.

172 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

An excellent thread from a history professor on Twitter, telling the story behind the cuirass of Antoine Faveau, who was killed at Waterloo.

See the full post

474 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[isthenapoleoncute]

My Napoleon lifted his hat, and half of him disappeared. WTF

Oh! I think your Napoleon has learned some magic tricks! What he's trying to do is make himself disappear, probably to go and retake France for some sort of adventure that will last ~100 days.

He just hasn't mastered this art yet.

It's a creative attempt from this little scamp. What you need to do is give him more enrichment. Napoleons tend not to try to escape if they feel suitably enriched! Give him a bigger empire to play with.

[trashpoppaea]

well guys I'm gonna see it. @microcosme11 and I are going to see That Napoleon Movie. Wish us luck!! @thiswaycomessomethingwicked @lordansketil @usergreenpixel @twice-told-tales

[trashpoppaea]

@microcosme11 @joachimnapoleon look at that embroidery!!

Suit that Napoleon wore as First Consul of France 1800.

“This sumptuously embroidered jacket was given by the city of Lyon to the First Consul in 1800. He wore it on April 18, 1802 at the Te Deum ceremony held at the cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris after the signing of the Concordat. Napoleon took it with him to St. Helena. He gave it to the young Hortense Bertrand (daughter of an Empire general) who, when she was older, passed it on to Prince Victor Napoleon, grandson of King Jerome, Napoleon’s youngest brother.”

[usergreenpixel]

Dear Neighbors… I just had a panic attack. I’m so sorry but this derails the review schedule… again. Dammit.

(Please don’t worry, I’m feeling better now. I got anxious about something completely unrelated to reviews)

Once again, I’m sorry about this. The review will be out by Saturday and I already have a draft of it… if you still want to see it even after so many delays… @tairin @amypihcs @aminoscribbles @josefavomjaaga @maggiec70 @dartharaiz @blackwidowmarshal123 @pobodleru @count-lero @michel-feuilly @captainknell @microcosme11 @elisabeth515 @klara-1838 @sollannaart @au-pas-camarades , @joachimnapoleon , @kaxen , I’m truly sorry that I broke my promise… but I will correct it. Luckily I’m calming down already.

(Tiny spoiler, I really enjoyed the book! Thank you for writing it, @garethwilliamsauthor ! And thank you to @suburbanbeatnik for introducing me to this story.)

[josefavomjaaga]

Following this link by @microcosme11, another screenshot from the same painting, with my usual question - any ideas who all these people are?

1) Bessières. Thank god for his powered hair, he’s the only one I tend to truly recognize.

2) Berthier (?). Mostly because of his position right behind Napoleon.

3) N-Ney? He seems like the only one with the right hair colour.

4) Lannes ??? He must have been at Ulm, and this is the only other person wearing one of those red sashes that probably mean “Call me ‘Excellency’”. Plus, the posture seems kinda fitting.