Sivut kuvina

him with a writ,*paying all fee". &c. so .that Mr. Tooke observed," he had only two or three guineas to pay on his entering the House of Commons."

Lord C. at one period, lamented that his education had been greatly neglected: he added at the same time, "he regretted exceedingly, that he had run away from the Charter House." On this, Sir Francis with a deep sigh, observed, " that he had also to lament that he had run away from Westminster." Mr.Horne Tooke, consoled them both, by observing, "that he had run away from Eton!"

(Told me by Mr. Tooke, while at dinner in my own house at Chelsea, with Sir James Innes, &c. June 10, 1807.)

SONG by 3. H. TOOKE. Oh, myiCrowny's quite up side downy, Oh, you've brought me to a fine pass; Corsica's master's fall of disasters; You shall receive due returns by the mass. Instead of a peerage, you shall have jeerage, And fur a ribbon, the ears of an ass;

What! the ears of an ass?

Yes—for Harry Duudass,

And the horns of an ox

On his forehead of brass.

Oh, all's Ruin, no peace is brewing;
Oh, you promised me I should be quit,

Negociations, cant, and vexations, Malmesbury,Hawkesbury, all are well bit; For this delusion, shame and confusion, Hypocrite, nought but the gallows is fit.

What! the gallows for Pitt?

Yes—there is nothing so fit,

For that insolent, false,

Hypocritical Pitt.

Oh, my Army, how you alarm me,
Keep them so close, they mayn't hear peo-
ple cough,
If they love freedom, we shall not need 'em,
Eastward, and westward, and south pack

them off; Good Master Windliam, rarely has thinn'd

This he facetiously terms killing off;
Will he say killing off*
Yes—with jeeriug and scoff,
'Till the turn-about reptile,
Himself, is turu'd off.

Oh, my Treasure, gone beyoad measure,

Oh, all's lost in this cursed fray;

Hanover, Brunswick, nay all are turu'd sick,

Saxony, Prussia, Sardinia,

Hesse, Spain, and Holland, Germany, all

Loyalist, royalist, and Corsica;
What! all gone away?
Yes—for ever, and aye,
And theylaugliat the dupe,
Whilst they pocket his pay.



A WORK has just been published in Paris, by Santini, Napoleon's faithful valet, under the title of" Chagrins Domestiques de Napoleon Bonaparte a I'lsle Sainte Helene; precede de Faits Historitjcu's de la plus haute importance; le tout de la main de Napoleon, ou ecrit *ous sa dictee, &c."

The following is extracted from an advertisement prefixed to the work:

The pieces of which this work is composed, were brought from St. Helena to England, by the ship Heron. The person who was in possession of them transmitted them to France in the month of July. Powerful considerations make it imperative on us not to enter into any detail on the manner by which these pieces have become private property. As to their authenticity, it is more than sufficiently proved by the important secrets which the work contains, and which are now brought to light for the first time.

A double motive has determined us in the publication of this work.

1st. A report was prevalent in London, that the British government secured the inspection of all the manuscripts left

by Bonaparte, without regard even, for those with whom they were deposited. It was even said that Sir Hudson Lowe provisionally seized upon all the papers of his late prisoner. If this fact is certain, this work will only possess the greater merit.

2d. We have thought that every thing which relates to that extraordinary man ought to be banded down to posterity.

We now hasten to lay the most valuable extracts before our readers: Historical Particulars, commencing with the Siege of Toulon, .entirely from the hand-writing of NapoLeon.

At the siege of Toulon, I began to perceive that every thing which formed part of the revolution had not the secret of pleasing me. My reasoning was just, and I had on my side every officer who merited that title. What a pity to see statesmen, (for it was necessary at this epoch to call them so) what a pity, I say, to see members of a tribune coming to distribute manoeuvres to men whose sole profession consisted in making them. The representatives sent to the armies cost Frauce the loss of

200,000 200,000 men, and some heads of great merit.

I freed myself from the inspection of Ban-as and FreYon in rather a summary manner. The reduction of the forts of Lamalgueand Malboquet proves that I did well to send the representatives to their places: nevertheless, acting thus, I risked my fuiure prospects; there was good fortune, but not prudence attending this transaction.

I had an affection for Paoli, because in the effervescence of the love which I bore for my country, I believed him to be the hero of Corsica. I soon saw, however, that he wished to act in a sense contrary to the interests of the French revolution. I at first wished him no harm, in the hope that he meant to profit by the opportunity, and labour for the independence of our country.

I corresponded with Messrs. Bow and Cameron, whom I had known during their residence at Ajaccio. These two Englishmen were then in London, and in a situation to give me intelligence from good sources. I leave it to be imagined what was my astonishment on learning that Paoli had betrayed his compatriots. These gentlemen had joined to their letter authentic documents, which established under what pretence, and how it was agreed upon, to deliver up the Isle of Corsica to England. In the account which Paoli had rendered of the spirit of the inhabitants of the Isle, he had not spared me. We may well presume that in giving up the Isle to the English, he. had not forgotten himself; in fact, he was to have been the governor and viceroy.

The Corsicans and the English, although equally passionate for liberty, would not have been long ere they had been at variance. The English, too absolute in their protections, would have treated Corsica less as an united country than as a conquered province. TheEnglish believe themselves superior to ail oilier people, and the Corsicans are not backward in arrogating to themselves peculiar privileges. From (he nature of these two characters would have resulted (he slavery of my country, and this was what I wished to prevent. My sole means of resistance were in the elements of the revolution, and these I laid hold of. I speedily forwarded (o the Convention the documents establishing the treason of Paoli;

I caused myself to be named Lieut. Colonel of the National Guard; I surrounded myself with all those the most devoted to France and the revolution. All Corsica was informed that Paoli wished to deliver it up to England; he denied the fact, and lost me in the esteem of my compatriots; myself and family were exiled: but Corsica was warned; I had signalised its danger; and Paoli no longer dared to put his projejts into execution.

There are a thousand good actions which men condemn for want of foreseeing the results; my conduct in Corsica is of the number; they blamed it; they even made it criminal; and yet it is one of my titles of glory; I preserved Corsica to France, and I have spared the Corsicans all the humiliations which England showered down upon Scotland and Ireland. History will lay hold of this trait, and will render me justice.

A great ambition is the mark of a great character. He who is endowed with it may, either perform very good, or very bad actions; it is according as he is actuated by more or less honour. The revolution has presented thirty kinds of ambitious characters. Some were ignoble and blood-thirsty, others estimable and worthy of the high rank which they have taken in society. Talleyrand and Cumbaceres, are to Lebon and Chaumette, what the eagles are to the owls.

Men of consummate stupidity and a very small number of sages, rich enough to have no occasion to expose themselves, were the sole individuals for whom it was possible not to be ambitious amidst the chances presented by the revolution. The rest of the French necessarily formed projects and anticipated great hopes. I was of this number, and it was impossible to be otherwise. However this might be, I knew not how to push myself forward in the career; all the avenues at that period appeared to me polluted. The chiefs of the army were then without influence; I thought of turning my views another way. I had connection with Robespierre, and some others of his stamp, but I made but little progress around them; I was not their man. This connection, which lasted only a moment, caused my dismissal on the 9th Thermidor. It was an injustice, but it was the epoch of injustice, and it was necessary to submit.

The government being changed, it became became less murderous, but nearly as despicable, and equally as unjust: the revolt of the Sections was soon the proof of it. Danican commanded them; but he was not the man that was requisite for citizens, who were not to be feared, and never will be, so long as there are troops of the line to oppose them. In this truth consists the strength of kings.

Barras confided to me the defence of the Convention. In that defence I had either my head to lose, or my fortune to make. 1 made my fortune and preserved, my head. Ignorance and bad faith have judged the 13th Brumaire; the following is the truth divested of artifice:

I had to defend the Convention; the spirit of the Sections armed against it was faltering and irresolute. The slightest success might render them courage and energy. To alarm them at first sight was to gain the day; I threw terror on the steps of St. Roch, and all was dispersed. This movement was dictated by humanity and a sense of duty. If I had left the Sections to hem themselves in the-cul-de-sac Dauphin, I should have been constrained to pour in grape-shot among them, or leave them forcibly to carry away the members of the Convention. As General I performed my duty; as a Frenchman, I spared my fellow citizens.

Some days afterwards, I married Madame de Beauharnois. This marriage soon obtained for me the chief command of the army of Italy.

Antiquity has, perhaps, nothing to be compared with the warlike feats af that memorable campaign. The courage and intrepidity of the French soldiers were carried to the highest degree to which human courage and intrepidity can go. I knew the French to be brave, but I did not imagine they were so eminently intrepid. Their history, although full of high deeds, had shown nothing to me in comparison with the passing the bridges of Lodi and of Areola. I confess even that similar passages ought very rarely to be attempted. There was more than boldness, there was rashness in the attempt. Had success not crowned the effort, it would have been inexcuseable.

From this eminent intrepidity, recognised in the French soldier, may be dated the inconceivable boldness of my other exploits. It was proved to me that I might undertake every thing with such men. This conviction, I

confess, enlarged my desires and my character.

The victories of Areola and of Lodi, delivered to me 20,000 Polish prisoners who served in the Austrian army. I gave a proof of my knowledge of the human character, by suspecting them capable of serving me. I enrolled them under my banners, and it was one of the best calculations I ever made; the services which they have since rendered me are the immortal proof of it.

It was not precisely on the victories of Areola and Lodi that must be dated the intimate conviction which I had, of being one day able to become the arbiter of the destinies of France.

I was yet no more than a soldier: and at this epoch a soldier who had only his sword for a weapon, weighed but very little in the balance of the_ Directors, veterans of the revolution," destroyed in their attempts to crush whoever gave the least umbrage to their ambition. I alone felt at that time that it was necessary above all, to create protectors and friends in my favour, whose united assistance might overawe the hatred and jealousy of the Directory. It was then that a part of the contributions levied on Italy, became of great assistance to me. With that I purchased creatures in all classes, and was soon in a state which enabled me no longer to crawl along step by step by the orders of the Directory. They began to perceive the little value I put upon the plans of campaigns which they traced out for me. It is true that this inclination of deviating from the orders emanating from the Directorial cabinet served marvellously the interests of France. In the number of those instructions given to carry on the campaign, there were many of them which were sure guarantees of a defeat; the cabinet of Vienna could not have done more for its interest. The Abbe" Sieyes has since assured me that a part of those instructions were given me to ensure my defeat, and thereby put a term to my growing influence.

The Directors alarmed by the rapid flight which I took, thought it was high time to occupy themselves as soon as possible in preparing my downfall. Many circumstances of my conduct in Italy seemed to furnish the materials for this purpose.

I owe it to my own honour and to that of my Son, to enter here into some details; these details are besides essentially within the province of history.


They are facts which ignorance and bad faith have taken pleasure to mutilate. To restore them impartially as they happened, is to labour for the iuteiests of all.

To estimate a public character by the scale of the private individual is the great secret of forming false judgments; and this is what our age has the most need to defend itself against.

The executions ordained at Pavia, Leghorn, Arquataand in the Marches have been charged to me as crimes. These executions were imperatively commanded by circumstances and by the safety of the French army. Had I balanced, it was lost; there was no alternative. Had not that been the case, would I have ordained those executions,—I, who for my ulterior projects, had more than ever occasion to raise men from the people of Italy? In Europe, and in our day, the blood of men is not shed in vain.

At the time of the revolt of the imperial vassals, I found myself in a position eminently critical; 1 leave those to judge of it who know the country and the spirit of the inhabitants.

I occupied, it is true, the city of Milan which was republican in appearance; but this imperfect republic was the work of only a small number of men, which my presence alone rendered strong, being more tormented with ambition than with the passion of liberty.

Dazzled by my first success, I committed a great error, the consequences of which might have been most fatal for my glory, and the safety of the French army. I wished in a season in which the heat is excessive in the environs of Mantua, at once to take that city without heavy artillery, to annihilate the enemy's army, conquer the Roman states and subdue Venice. This was, I repeat, an error, a very great error; but I made no mention of it to any of my generals, although I knew all the extent of it: nevertheless to have repaired it, absolves me from one half of the blame. I never yet think of this epoch of my life without some palpitations of the heart, so much had an excess of ardour accumulated perils around me.

Mantua defended itself with courage; the Pope and Venice were under arms; the King of Naples had all his forces ready; Romagna menaced to rise up, as it did a few days after in so ter

Monthly Mag. No. 361.

rible a manner; the greater part of the imperial vassals were in full revolt, and, to complete my dangers, General Wurmser* suddenly arrived to put himself at the head of the Austrian army. At the news of his arrival, theTyrolese aroused from their stupor, showed themselves quite ready to crush me. I appeal to my contemporaries, if my position was not sufficiently critical. The least feebleness on my part, and all was lost, my glory and my army. Had my troops conceived my danger, it would have been a great misfortune. I knew the French soldier; he is not fond of being in peril: to disguise from him his situation in such a case, is the best thing to be done.

Of all the dangers which surrounded me, the most urgent was the revolt of the people in my own army. It was not a common repression that I had to effect; it was a terrible chastisement which I had to inflict, in order to spread a salutary terror. Time pressed upon me; the chastisement was as prompt as it was dreadful, and the inconceivable effect which followed, is a victorious answer to the accusation which my enemies have wished, and would still endeavour to bring against me.

After exposing the conduct of the Directory, he thus proceeds: ,

The French are all fire for a hero of whom a brilliant action entitles him to that appellation: but should this hero return to domestic society, there are only a very few honest men who think of him; witness Moreau.

I had mounted too brilliant a courser to suffer him to perish uselessly in the stable. Europe presented nothing worth my attention; I then planned the expedition to Egypt. It served me only at first as a last resource: involving myself always in idea into the consequences which this enterprise might produce, if brought to a good termination, I was agreeably surprised to see that France found incalculable advantages in the plan. The English were persuaded of it, and posterity will be of the opinion of England."

* In the margin of the page containing this paragraph, is a note in the hand-writing of Bonaparte, and is conceived thus: "Wurmser has suffered great defeats, but never, that I know, has he committed great faults. Beaulieu knew better than he, the art of positions, and the war of defiles, but Wurmser excelled him in the general management of a decisive affair." 3 1 To

To accuse the Directory of having conceived -the project of conquering Egypt, for the purpose of sending me thither, and by that means getting rid of me, is a calumny. The project was mine, and mine alone. It is possible that in giving its consent, the Directory cherished the hope that I should return no more; but thai is only a supposition, and in similar matters, positive proofs are necessary.

The regeneration of the people of Egypt would have done me much honour; but it wa» impossible. That people, with/ some few exceptions, are generally besotted by despotism: too stupidly organised to be revenged, they take a delight in it, mechanically. Mortals, degraded from all generous sentiments they are morally and physically incapable of appreciating the benefits of European civilization, and of blessing the hand of the legislator who wished to restore them to the dignity of other nations. I have been more than once tempted to imitate Omar and Mahomet, but in another sense: viz. to invite, sword in hand, the people of Egypt to the enjoyment of all their rights; hut more personal inteiests claimed all my attention.

The French admiral improperly wished to fight against Nelson, and our fleet wasdestroyedat Aboukir; Brueix, it is true, died gloriously on board. His death expiated his fault, but did not repair it. I say his fault, for it was his own. Five or six days previous, Jlapp or Junot, my Aides-de-camp, had carried him an order to retire to Cadiz.

An army transported to another hemisphere, being deprived of the correspondence with the mother-country, can no longer be supplied with provisions, and is an army two thirds lost. It was even a miracle that the French were able to do so much in Egypt. • I was ignorant of every thing passing in France: Kleber could replace rue in Egypt, where sooner or later it was necessary to finish the campaign by a capitulation. I put all in order, embarked, and arrived safely at Frejus.

I was overwhelmed with grief at finding France so different from what I had made it before my departure for Egypt, My conquests were lost, the armies were discouraged and suffering and the interior was torn by factions. There needed not so much to excite my indignation against the Directory, the

cause of all the evil, and principally against Barras, whom I knew to have more especially conducted affairs and taken the lead.

The encouraging reception I met with from Frejus to Paris, and that which I afterwards received in the capital, proved that the French placed great hopes in me.

Menaced from without, torn by factions in the interior, France required a good head and a firm hand to draw it from the precipice. I believed myself reserved for the honour of rendering it this service. General Moreau might, it is true, have the same pretensions; but he did himself justice in believing he bad no genius but in the day of battle: he thought wisely, for he would have failed.

However, when it became a question between myself and my friends of both councils, of dissolving that of the Five Hundred, I was for a moment terrified with the means which it was necessary to put in hand to effect this dissolution. It required nothing short of the dangers of the country to decide my giving orders, sword in hand, to men still decorated with the title of legislators. The die was at last cast; the government was destroyed, and succeeded by three consuls, of whom I was the first.

From the point whence I set out to that in which I now found myself, the transition was not made without affording me much cause for reflection. I saw myself launched forth, but I could not tell when or where I should stop. I never liked uncertainty; I cut the knot, and decided in secret for the supreme rank. This acknowledgment is so much the more a matter of fact, as I had never had the slightest idea of that great ambition.

The consulate for life was given to me. It was a grand step made, but it was still only a precarious state for the people and for myself. A great nation requires a fixed government, which the death of one man may not overthrow. If I prepared for war, the same cannon ball might kill the first consul and the consular government. The factions although extinguished, might rise again from their ashes, and plunge France once more into the abyss from which I had saved her. This was felt by all and by myself still more.

The victory of Marengo, in deciding the fate of Austria, placed France at the head of the first states of ''... Europe.

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