A Napoleonic Map of America

The naming of places can be an indication of cultural preoccupations. Physical evidence of the perennial popularity of Napoleon Bonaparte is stamped on the countryside of America.

Mississippi, Missouri, North Dakota, and Kentucky have towns named Napoleon. Louisiana has a Napoleonville.  

Police cars in Napoleon, Ohio, bear the image of the Emperor.

In the state of Alabama there is a town named Napoleon, as well as an Elba, a Waterloo, and a Marengo County. Iowa has a town named Bonaparte.

According to the official website of the state of Indiana, the naming of the town of Napoleon, Indiana was due to Alvin Peterson Hovey, the governor of the state of Indiana in the 1890s. He was said to have believed himself to be Napoleon’s reincarnation, and honored the anniversary of Napoleon’s death in solitary retreat.

Napoleonic events were also commemorated on maps of America. Elba, of course, was the island from which Napoleon escaped in 1815. Elba, in upstate New York, was also significant to those attempting to escape. It was a link in the Underground Railroad - there was a tunnel underneath Main Street, between an inn and a private home.

Today Elba claims to be the Onion Capital of the World and every year, an Onion Queen is crowned.

Twenty-eight states in the Union have towns named Waterloo. The town of Waterloo, New York so honored those fallen in battle that it was designated the official birthplace of Memorial Day, by presidential decree. The town even contains a miniature Arc d’Triumphe.

Martin Van Buren, in 1878 a state senator, later the 8th president of the United States, was an admirer of Napoleon. He became angered when an opponent in the state senate succeeded in getting a place named Waterloo. So he insisted that a new community in upstate New York be named for a Napoleonic victory, Austerlitz, rather than, like Waterloo, for a Napoleonic defeat.

The town of Austerlitz has a sign in an empty field, for the future site of Old Austerlitz.

Just east of Kansas City, in Missouri, is a Napoleon, Wellington, and Waterloo. The town of Napoleon was named first, in 1836. Then a year later a nearby town was named for his rival, Wellington. Waterloo, situated between the two, was named last - named of course after the battle in which Wellington defeated Napoleon.

Meanwhile, Napoleon, Arkansas, once called "the most wretched of wretched places," by Mark Twain, has long since been washed away by the Mississippi River.

The Appian Way

In ancient Rome, burial within the boundaries of the city

was forbidden to all but Emperors and vestal virgins.

And so the area just outside the city walls

grew into a suburban necropolis-scape.

The Appian Way

The Appian Way begins in the center of Rome.

It crosses the great defensive walls that ring the city.

A newer road, the Appia Nueva,

runs alongside the old one.

The ground underneath this area is

honeycombed with vast and complex

galleries, tunnels, and passages.

These crypts, the catacombs, were forgotten for

centuries. Now one may take a guided tour.

In the 1980s a park was created

to protect the Appian Way.

Most of the area is private property,

owned by old aristocratic families.

1% of the park belongs to the military.

A section of the old road is called the

archaeological promenade, and here a

sense of the ancient Appian Way is evoked.

The cobblestones are said to

still show the ruts carved by

centuries of carts and chariots.

Many ancient tombs are hidden behind

the high garden walls of private villas.

There is a strange mingling of

the romantic and the everyday,

with hybrid ruins grafted over time.

The Casal Rotondo is a residence built

on the top of an ancient funerary monument.

The Torre Selce is a tower built in the 12th century

on the base of a tomb from the Roman era.

The tomb of Cecilia Metella was converted

into a medieval castle and fortress.

Now it’s a tourist attraction.

There is surprisingly little graffiti on the Appian Way.

In fact, there is very little interpretative

signage or tourist infrastructure.

In the 19th century the first systematic excavation, documentation,

and restoration of the Appian Way occurred.

A strip of land along each side of the road was

enclosed with low stone walls and hedges.

Pines and cypress trees were planted.

Countless monuments, shrines, sculptures, inscriptions,

and marble fragments were unearthed.

Some were taken to museums.

Replicas were substituted in their place.

Smaller pieces were gathered up, fixed into new

brick walls, and displayed along the roadway.

Nowadays, much has been stripped

from even the restorations,

leaving only enigmatic rubble.

Yet the character of the Appian Way remains true

to its ancient role as a place of display.

Once a funerary promenade, now an

archaeological drive-through park.

Now the road begins to show signs of more recent paving.

Then even this road surface begins to break up.

Crosses the great encircling ring road.

The Appian Way gradually emerges from

its antique fantastical dream, and the

modern world begins to intrude.

Towards the end, the old road is

unmaintained. The wreckage of time

mixes with another kind of debris.

Finally it is blocked to vehicles.

The Appian Way becomes a place where men 
wait, to meet in eternal assignation.