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Napoleonic
Gallery |
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Napoleonic
Gallery |
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These paintings are sold.
The others are available at the artist's workshop.
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Gigantic, austere, aloof, the Gendarme d'élite of the Imperial Guard had one thing in common: they were called the Immortals. This nickname was a pun bequeated by their legendary comrades: the Chasseurs-à-cheval, Grenadiers-à-cheval and Polish Lancers of the Old Guard Cavalry. All nicknames tap into reality. Indeed they were never seen charging the enemy helter-skelter; no one ever saw the glim of their sabres in a hard pressed fight; never have they captured enemy flags or canon. They never died on the field of battle. However, whomsoever would have dared approach the Emperor too close would have found his way barred by them. Any turbulent crowd bent on demonstrating at the Tuileries would have had to deal with their bad humour, would have had to suffer the wrath of their blind devotion. Absent from the Empire's moments of glory, these giants were the antithesis of the cavlary heroes. Theirs was the unenviable task of patrolling the countryside, battlefields and mottley tenaments left in ruins after the passage of the Grande Armée to seek out deserters and troublemakers. And the bad boys of the Imperial Guard were the culprits they were really on the lookout for, the scum of the line regiments being considered second-hand trophies. Fully aware of this understudy role he had bestowed upon them, the Emperor could have praised them as follows: 'They are part of my Guard. They are my Guard.' When indeed they happened to stroll into a village, always travelling by pairs, silence struck as though calamity were near. Everyone knew these men had come to settle affairs in the name of the Emperor and that nothing could stand in the way of their duty. |
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 The apogee Original composition; 18 x 14 |
1809, Vienna. From the salon he had transformed into his daily study Napoleon was contemplating his destiny. Thirteen years ago he was a mere skin-to-the-bone anonymous artillery officer. There followed the coups d'état, the Egyptian error, the Consulate, the rebuilding of France, the Empire, the great conquests: Austria in 1805, Prussia in 1806, distant Poland, the Russian giant sent scurrying back in the distant steppes. And Austria anew, that same Austria whose daughter he would marry after having repudiated Joséphine. He had grown used to see everything and everybody bend to his will. By now he was entirely intoxicated by unbounded confidence in his power, a result of his unchecked personal ambitons, having forgotten those of France. Had it been midnight, had he wanted to glance at his legendary Étoile, that star that guided his destiny as he liked to believe and make others believe, he would have noticed it had began to wan. However, he could not see beyond his immediate reality, beyond that prison of glory and power he had built around himself with all of his will. |
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 The Emperor, gazing at the Pratzen. The jury of the 19th International Gala of Visual Arts (2002) organized by the Cercle des artistes peintres et sculpteurs du Québec awarded the artist its Excellence Award for the originality, creativity and unique quality of this work. |
Austerlitz Morn |
 The 1er Cuirassiers, ready to become part of the legend. |
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December 2, 1805. Europe's destiny will be sealed for the next ten years.
The Battle of the Three Emperors is about to begin. Let us listen to Claude Manceron :
« As though hit by a sacred sign, the marshalls look at Napoleon's shining
face which is presenting, but for a short spell, an unusual sort of joy... The sun of Austerlitz rose, dissipated the fog that was hiding Soult's infantry masses, and the assault began. Seven hours later 11,000 Russians and Austrians would be lying dead in the cold fields of glory. There would not be any peace until Waterloo. |
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Gazing at this beauty meant forfeiting your soul. Legend has it that she was one of the few who dared say no to the new master of Europe. Leagued with madame de Staël and Chateaubriand, she was quickly villified and discredited by Bonaparte who could not stand the thronges that catered to her in her salons. |
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“He was neither handsome, tall nor fair skinned. His
frail countenance made him pass unnoticed in public. His quick nervous walk warned the
passerby to avoid the man’s path.
However,
when he stopped his incessant motion to stand idle, arms crossed on his shallow chest, no
one dared come close to him. His head slightly turned down, one would have known that he
occupied a space that no other human being would dare transgress.
Slowly unfolding his arms, his hands revealed themselves
to the onlooker, thin, long, a bit feminine. He folded them behind his back, an
instinctive gesture.
Suddenly his head came up in a deep breath. That is when
his true nature came forth, the unique moment when his gaze crossed yours, the eye of the
leader that commanded obedience. That pygmy of man was called Napoleone Buonaparte. He had the power of not having to ask for thousands of men to go forward at the pas de charge hypnotized by this vision.” - François Guilbault |
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1814. The Allies have invaded France. What will turn out to be one of Napoleon's most brilliant campaigns will end in the sullen and treacherous atmosphere of Fontainebleau. To oppose the armed forces of all Europe, the Emperor had to call on the most prized veterans of his Army of Spain. Brienne, La Rothière, Montmirail and Craonne are but a few of this elite's battle honors during the Campaign of France. The jury of the 18th International Gala of Visual Arts (2001) organized by the Cercle des artistes peintres et sculpteurs du Québec awarded the artist its Gold Medal for the unique quality of this work. |
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Taken down from the Austerlitz column of place Vendôme
during the Restoration and hidden for decades, this magnificent statue is now looking down
on the courtyard of Les Invalides.
It is an enduring testimony to the privileged relationship
between Napoleon and his grognards, those brave men who fought and died on the
battlefields of a Europe torn asunder by the convulsions of the French Revolution,
righteousness of the monarchies of the Ancien Régime and the ambitions of the
little Corsican who became the master of Europe. |
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1814. Under a cold and bleak winter sky the Emperor
salutes the Gardes d’Honneur who will earn ever-lasting praise in a few moments as
they tear through the Russian squares.
Incorporated
into the Imperial Guard these young nobles, often the object of the line’s jeers
given their social origins, will show time and again their courage and determination
during those desperate days. |
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In a pennyless and
despairing France everyone is looking for a ray of hope, a hero. Napoleon Bonaparte will
rise above all and mobilize a whole nation while establishing his hold on a torn France
and divided Europe. Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, Jena, Eylau, Friedland: the great
victories. Borodino, Leipsig, Montmirail, Waterloo: the cruel defeats. Although France is bludgeoned as a result of that 20-year long bloody road there will always men to acclaim Napoleon, the general, the leader of men, he by whom victory, honors and "la gloire" are bequeated. All Napoleon needed to do was to walk up to one of his grognards, call him by his name and pinch his ear (a sign of affection every soldier dreamed of) to see a whole army rise and shout the legendary acclamation: "Vive l'Empereur!" This painting is inspired from a magnificent bronze statue that watched over the Imperail Eagles in one of the rooms of the Musée de l'Armée, at Les Invalides. The statue may now be found at a corner of the second galery looking over the courtyard. |
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“The man was
overweight which proved rather ungracious given his short stature. His heavy legs only
added to the bad impression of a first meeting.
The chubby fingers that agitated themselves as he waved
his hands made one think of those of a boulangère tired of making bread after more
than 30 years. The cylindrical neck partly hidden by the sagging chin made it difficult to
see the color of his cravate.
The look in his eyes had changed also, just as though it
had dimmed as his star had started setting. When fury erupted, his glare was all anger,
disdain, unreasonable in its demands. When at rest it was gray, shadowy, absent.
Napoleon 1er, Emperor of the French, having mastered all
the nations of Europe would soon fall victim to the all consuming ambition that had
elevated him above all common mortals.
But the legend would endure, retold a thousand times by
those who followed the young Corsican general wherever Glory was there for the
picking.” - François Guilbault |
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1812. The Russian Campaign, the fatal death-trap.
At Borodino these horsemen clad in metal and sporting a Greek-styled helmet will terrify
the Tsar’s troops. They were as feared as the cavalry of the French Imperial Guard. Rebuilt after the 1813 and 1814 debacles they will charge stirrup to stirrup with the Grenadiers-à-cheval, Chasseurs-à-cheval, Empress' Dragoons and Red Lancers on the ill-fated day of Waterloo. |
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The Emperor is still present in his homeland, the island
of Corsica.
This statue which surprisingly looks like
that of Les Invalides in Paris casts its shadow on the dry land where Napoleone
Buonaparte was born.
Legend says that the young Corsican used to hide in the
grotto under the rocks on the right-hand side to read and meditate on his future.
His father will succeed in having him allowed to the
school of Brienne after many attempts. The young man will eventually forget his beloved
island. |
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1798.
Worried about the growing popularity of Bonaparte and seeing its power slowly but surely
being eroded, the Directory offers the command of the expedition to Egypt to Bonaparte,
the conqueror of Italy. This was a sure way of relegating the ambitious young man to
oblivion. While away from Paris no one would care about him. He would be out of touch with
the political meandering of the all-powerful Directory.
Cut
off from the world by the defeat of the French fleet by Lord Nelson at Aboukir, winner of
the battle of the Pyramids, defeated in front of Acre, this single-minded general will
leave his army behind to cross the Mediterranean on the Muiron and redeem his position. |
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1800. Napoleon Bonaparte is 31 years old. Leading
the veterans of the Revolutionary wars he crosses the Alps at the Grand Saint-Bernard pass
and is ready to invade the plains of Lombardy where Austria, the archenemy, will be
defeated and humiliated once again.
Dazzled
by the riches and spoils taken from Italy the decaying French government will give free
rein to Bonaparte. A crucial error and gross miscalculation if ever there was one.
The Second Campaign of Italy will make of the young
Corsican general the First Consul and, four years later, the Emperor of the French. |
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1796. Growing impatient with his generals who could
not debouch from the bridge of Arcola to come to grips with the Austrians and complete the
brilliant manoeuver he had concocted, Bonaparte grabs a flag and steps into the inferno
with all his staff.
His foolhardiness nearly cost him his life.
The bullet that could have changed the destiny of the world will hit one of his
aides-de-camp instead, Muiron.
The Napoleonic legend is in the making, composed of strong
images and errors disguised cunningly as military masterpieces and glorious moments Antoine-Jean Gros, Baron of the Empire, author of the original painting, will never see a battlefield contrary to Bacler d'Albe. His drawings revealed an outstanding talent that led him to be accepted in David's studio as an apprentice in 1785. He patiently pursued his training which culminated in a trip to Italy, a must for all artist's of the era. He came back to Paris in 1800 and presented his Bonaparte At Arcola at the Salon of 1801. |
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Copyright © 2002-2008
François Guilbault, artiste
peintre. |
