As an instance of this, and of the one-sided view taken by all ranks and classes of Napoleon’s opponents, let us contrast two cases which are in some respects parallel.  The many plots to assassinate the First Consul—­especially the one that very nearly succeeded when he was on his way to the opera—­and the knowledge that an organized band of conspirators were in red-hot activity and, headed by the Duc d’Enghien, Cadoudal, Moreau, and Pichegru, were determined to kill the head of the State, overthrow the Government, and re-establish the Bourbon dynasty, caused the Duc to be arrested, tried by his fellow-countrymen, and found guilty of the charges brought against him, and, by the blundering of Savary, afterwards Duke of Rovigo, and the persistence of Murat, the death penalty was carried out and he was shot.  Had he been permitted to live another twenty-four hours, Napoleon would unquestionably have pardoned him, though he never doubted the justice of the sentence.  Much political capital has been made in this country against Napoleon for even sanctioning his arrest and in not preventing the capital sentence of the court from being carried out.[19]

Unquestionably Napoleon regretted the execution, and would have granted a free pardon had some one not blundered or been too zealous in what they conceived to be his and the country’s best interests.  Almost every writer on this subject is strong in his condemnation of the execution and of Napoleon for not taking surer steps to prevent it.  But in judging him in regard to this matter, it is only fair to take into account that he was the ruler of a great empire.  Whether he became so by force or not, does not matter; he saved the Revolution, and had already brought some form of order out of bloody chaos.

He had already become the popular head of the French nation, and it devolved upon him to take the most minute precautions against the disturbing effects of the secret and avowed conspirators who directed their operations against his life and the overthrow of his government from London.  The precautions taken were drastic, skilfully organized, and far-reaching, and his agents kept him advised of the danger that continually beset him.  Even though he had no thought of reprieving the Duc, and deliberately allowed him to be shot, the act of self-preservation, extreme though it may appear, can hardly be termed, under the circumstances, unwarranted.  It was a period of wild, uncontrollable passion, and the survivors of the old aristocracy hated the man of genius who had risen to power from the ranks of the people to take the place of the Bourbons.  This was the canker that stimulated their enmity.