The Press., 1905-10-04
A FAMOUS CHARGER.
The story of Marengo, NapO1eOn's
Last War Horse.

Napoleon helped himself to the crea-
ture when he encountered the name
lukes on the banks Of the Nile In 1898.
Superb as were the horses of these
knights of the DESERT" the white
charger with the "great black eyes,
wide nostrils, clean limbs and brave
heart" as Ibrahim the hey described
him, was the most splendid Of them
all. He was a small horse, only just
over fourteen hands, faultless in shape
and dauntless in courage. Napoleon
rode him at the siege of Acre, at the
battles of Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena
and Wagram. He took him to Moscow
in that fatal campaign against Russia
and rode him at Borodino and on the
| BereSina river.
When disaster had come and Ma
poleon was banished to Elba, the IA
vorite horse was not permitted to ac-
company him. 81 had rather 1 had
shot him than that King Louis should
possess him." the fallen emperor said,
and he laughed with grim satisfaction
when an equerry reminded him that
the Bourbon king was himself too I'M
wieldy to ride Marengo or any other
horse. Two years passed, and Ma
poleon was back in Paris. The turn
| of fortunes wheel had brought him to
the top again; Louis was a fugitive,
and the emperor was wildly acclaimed
| by the tickle pOpulace, who but few
weeks before had shouted for the king.
Once more Marengo was led from
his stable; once more the housings with
the gilded bees were buckled on his
shapely form. The horse, old in years
and white as fresh faxed snow, was
| as full of courage as ever. His mas
| ter's hand passed lovingly over his
satin skin as Napoleon mounted him
| that fatal 18th of June when the
| troops were forming up on the fields
| which had been so fresh and green
| that morning and where the lark's
| sweet song was silenced by the
| first booming of the guns. The white
| charger carried the emperor as proud
| ly as ever; the wide nostrils shifted
| the battle clouds as they had often
| done before. \ musket ball struck the
creatures TANKS, and the white skin
| and golden bees were stained with
| blood and dust.
Late in the afternoon Napoleon
| turned his horses head from the field.
| The battle was fought and lost Only
| Marengo'S flcetness and tireleSs cour-
age remained between him and cap
tivity. Nobly the old horse responded
| to his call. Away through the trampled
corn, across the broken ground.
| through the awful scenes of slaughter
and the heaps Of the dead and dying;
away through the merciful darkness
of the summer night; away toward
| Paris once again.
That was the last time Napoleon
rode his favorite. Lord Potre found
| the poor beast, wounded and utterly
worn out, at a roadside inn, where
| Napoleon had entered his carriage,
| leaving the horse behind. Marengo
was brought to England, and even
| tualIy sold to General Angerstein Of
the grenadiers. His old age was
| passed at Angersteins place in Nor
| folk, where the horse-to the last
| beautiful as picture"-attracted
much notice. On his death the gen
| eraI presented one of the hoofs to his
| old comrades of the Guards brigade,
| and another belongs to General Anger
STEMS family, at Weeting Hall, Nor
| folk.-LondOn Modern Society.