Part 5
Napoleon, however, acquitted the English PEOPLE of any participation in this crime, and said, "We must not judge of the character of a people by the conduct of their government."
Europe should understand how little the English people are implicated in the crimes of their king or his ministers. The PEOPLE did not vote millions after millions for a crusade against French and American liberty. _They_ did not commission a Wellington to interfere in the re-enthronement of a Bourbon; _they_ did not depute a Castlereagh to dictate the slavery of Saxony and Genoa; nor should _they_ be charged with the gross injustice, dastardly inurbanity, and forcible imprisonment of the greatest man and the most magnificent monarch of modern or ancient times,--of a man whose mental superiority was honourable to human nature, and which threw into utter darkness the abilities of every other sovereign!
British annals have, indeed, been stained by many a dark and unsightly spot; our volumes will exhibit divers foul and desperate deeds in the domestic history of the last two kings: but never was an act more _nationally_ disgraceful than the banishment of Napoleon to St. Helena! He was never accountable to England, much less to the English boroughmongers, for his political conduct. He had been the general, the first consul, and the emperor of the French. He arose amidst the storms of the revolution; he was (as he himself felt and said) the "sword-arm of the republic," with which it chastised and humbled to the dust the accursed confederacy of despots who had endeavoured to rivet an old, worn-out, oppressive, and rejected dynasty on thirty millions of Frenchmen. He conquered at first by the help of that flame of liberty which raged with a fierceness proportioned to its long suppression; and, latterly, having raised himself above his contemporaries by his powerful genius, he was made emperor by his countrymen and fellow-soldiers, partly because a large portion of the people, weary of the violent fluctuations of an ill-constituted democracy, desired the repose even of absolute government, and partly because he was looked upon as the fittest instrument for foreign conquest, which had become a favourite habit, though originating in an absolute necessity. Never let it be forgotten, that he was chosen first consul for life (a distinction used only for the sake of republican appearances, and known to mean king all over Europe) by the votes of the French people at large! The question was submitted to them in the separate departments; all voted that took interest in the affirmative or the negative; and the result was, his election by more than 3,500,000 voices against 374! Can the House of Hanover say as much for their succession to the throne of the STUARTS? NAPOLEON was not only the elected sovereign of the French people, but he was acknowledged in that capacity by all his enemies. As first consul, the allies, including England, made the treaty of Amiens with him. As emperor, the Continental sovereigns not only often acknowledged, but _flattered_, and bowed to the earth before him; and this country, at the least, negotiated with him for peace. Whence, then, arose Lord Castlereagh's right to treat him as an offender amenable to England? When, by a marvellous succession of ill-fortune, he fell from his towering height, and left for ever his post at the head of the French government, he became a private individual; and this country had no more business to interfere with his personal freedom than with that of Marshal SOULT, or any other of the military men who had equally sought to crush us. Some canting and arrogant people talked of his _crimes_--his tyranny--his unjust aggressions in Spain and elsewhere. But we deny that Napoleon was a tyrant. After his return from Elba, he wished to be at peace with all mankind, and to devote the remainder of his days to increase the happiness and prosperity of his people. Which of his enemies could say as much? We quote the following letter in justification of what we here advance, which the emperor addressed to all the sovereigns of Europe:
"_Paris, April 4, 1815._
"SIRES, MY BROTHERS,--You have no doubt learnt in the course of the last month my return to France, my entrance into Paris, and the departure of the family of the Bourbons. The true nature of those events must now be made known to your majesties. They are the results of an irresistible power,--the results of the unanimous wish of a great nation, which knows its duties and its rights. The dynasty which force had given to the French people was not fitted for it; the Bourbons neither associated with the national sentiments nor manners; France has therefore separated herself from them; her voice called for a liberator. The hopes which induced me to make the greatest sacrifice for her have been deceived; I came, and, from the spot where I first set my foot, the love of my people has borne me into the heart of my capital. The first wish of my heart is to repay so much affection by the maintenance of an honourable peace. The restoration of the imperial throne was necessary for the happiness of the French people. It is my sincere desire to render it at the same time subservient to the maintenance of the repose of Europe. Enough of glory has shone by turns on the colours of the various nations. The vicissitudes of fortune have often enough occasioned great reverse, followed by great success; a more brilliant _arena_ is now open to sovereigns, and I am the first to descend into it. After having presented to the world the spectacles of great battles, it will now be more delightful to know no other rivalship in future but that resulting from the advantages of peace, and no other struggle but the sacred one of felicity for our people. France has been pleased to proclaim with candour this noble object of her unanimous wish. Jealous of her independence, the invariable principle of her policy will be the most rigid respect for the independence of other nations. If such then (as I trust they are) are the personal sentiments of your majesties, general tranquillity is secured for a long time to come, and Justice, seated on the confines of the various states, will of herself be sufficient to guard the frontiers.
"I am, &c. "NAPOLEON."
If further proof be needed against his being a tyrant, it may be found in the following extracts from the Additional Act to the Constitution of the Empire of France, 1815:
"Rights of Citizens.--All Frenchmen are equal in the eye of the law, whether as contributors to the public taxes and imposts, or as to admission to civil and military employments. No one can be prosecuted, arrested, imprisoned, or exiled, except according to the forms prescribed by the law.
"Liberty of worship is granted to all.
"Every citizen has the right of printing and publishing his thoughts (signing his name) without any previous censorship, and subject only to legal responsibility after the publication, by the verdict of juries, even where there should be no occasion but for a correctional penalty. The right of petitioning is secured to all citizens. Every petition is individual.
"The French people declare moreover that, in the delegation which they have made, and which they shall make, of their powers, they have not intended to give, nor do they give, the right of proposing the re-establishment of the Bourbons, or any prince of that family, upon the throne, even in case of the extinction of the imperial dynasty; nor the right of re-establishing either the ancient feudal nobility, or the feudal and signorial privileges or titles, or any privileged and dominant worship; nor the power of making any attempt upon the irrevocability of the sale of the national domains: they formally interdict to the government, the chambers, and the citizens all propositions to that effect.
"Done at Paris the 20th of April, 1815.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON. "The Duke of BASSANO."
Nothing but their own love of tyranny, therefore, could induce these sovereigns to wage war against a happy people, like the people of France. But Napoleon's virtues were too luminous for their dim eyes to look upon. The abolition of the slave-trade ought to be held in everlasting remembrance by all the friends of justice and humanity.
"IMPERIAL DECREE.
"Napoleon, Emperor of the French. We have decreed, and do decree, as follows:
"Art. 1.--From the date of the publication of the present decree, the trade in negroes is abolished. No expedition shall be allowed for this commerce, neither in the ports of France nor in those of our colonies.
"Art. 2.--There shall not be introduced to be sold in our colonies any negro, the produce of this trade, whether French or foreign.
"Art. 3.--Any infraction of this decree shall be punished with the confiscation of the ship and cargo, which shall be pronounced by our courts and tribunals.
"Art. 4.--However, the ship-owners who, before the publication of the present decree, shall have fitted out expeditions for the trade may sell the produce in our colonies.
"Our ministers are charged with the execution of the present decree.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON. "The Duke of BASSANO."
Beside these noble examples of good government, many other advantages were bestowed on the French people by their emperor. Their "Code Napoleon," their "Legion of Honour," their "Central Schools," their _new roads_, _bridges_, and _canals_, will be lasting evidences of the gigantic powers of his mind, and of his sincere desire to serve his country, and render himself worthy of the exalted station to which he had been called by her gratitude for his pre-eminent military services. Had Napoleon bounded his ambition to the glory of ruling France upon free and liberal principles, it had been happy for himself, his relations, and his country; but to talk of his foreign despotism, and his _carrying_ tyranny to where, in fact, he _found_ tyranny,--tyranny the most rank and inveterate,--is to use the language of folly or of knavery, and to merit the contempt of every thinking mind.
But if it be even allowed that Napoleon was all that his enemies would make him, where did our ministers get the unheard-of privilege of setting themselves up as cosmopolite censors? By what right did the British government constitute itself a tribunal to judge and punish, in the last resort, delinquent monarchs? Could it by any reasoning have made out a claim to that office, was it just or decent to make a victim of _one_,--a man of unquestioned talent and greatness of soul,--and at the same moment to compliment and make alliances with all the worse tyrants, the maudlin hypocrites, and base violaters of their word? Or did these moral Quixotes and immaculate judges only profess to "do _justice_" upon _one_ sinner "against the spirit of the age,"--and that one a _fallen_ enemy?
The only plausible pretence for the treatment of the abdicated emperor was--that his surpassing genius, and his great hold on the military part of the French character, rendered him a necessary exception to the rule regarding prisoners of war, and made it indispensable to the safety and repose of the world, that he should be prevented from appearing again on the grand stage of European politics. This is confessedly on the dangerous plan of doing positive injustice for the sake of what the doers think safe and necessary. But we deny the necessity. We say the argument is built on utter ignorance of human nature, and a wilful blindness to all history and experience. Napoleon was grand in his views, because he admired and loved greatness for its own sake. He never sullied his conquests by partitioning and dividing the conquered. He could afford not to weaken his enemies by petty violations of national integrity. He encouraged every thing liberal and noble, which did not at the same time interfere with his personal authority. He cherished literature, art, and science; and they, in return, reflected true glory upon him. He never insulted and mocked mankind by pretending an eternal right in himself and his successors to trample them under his feet, because he was an emperor. He had always a respect for liberty, though he so often forgot it in his greater eagerness for power. He never laid claim to _holiness_, but acknowledged himself, in his proudest moments, sovereign, "_by the constitutions of the empire_." He was not vindictive; his long military rule was never sullied by any act which could be compared in infamy with the imprisonment of the unfortunate TRENCK by that Prussian FREDERICK, whom the legitimate abusers of NAPOLEON call "the _Great_." The prominent fault of his career as a leader of a new and revolutionary period, was that, instead of looking forward, he looked backward, and became an imitator instead of an original. He evidently had the glories of former ages strongly in his view; and was to be a great conqueror, not because the times wanted _him_, but because there are medals and statues in the world, and dynasties were founded by CÆSAR. In the height of his prosperity, he was a CHARLEMAGNE--another "Emperor of the West;" and, in his adversity, he forgot the Prince Regent of England so far as to talk to him of THEMISTOCLES[68:A]. And yet there was a romance even in this, which set him above all ordinary conquerors. He had the poetry, as well as the prose, of the military art about him. _He_ would never have sunk into a mere lounger and man of pleasure, or stood behind any commonplace man with a gold stick in his hand.
[68:A] The following is a translation of the letter above referred to:
"Rocheford, 13th July, 1815.
"YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS,
"A victim to the factions which distract my country, and to the enmity of the greatest powers of Europe, I have terminated my political career, and I come, like Themistocles, to throw myself upon the hospitality of the British people. I put myself under the protection of their laws, which I claim from your royal highness, as the most powerful, the most constant, and the most generous of my enemies.
"NAPOLEON."
As a soldier, his military career has never been surpassed in brilliancy. Quick, active, decisive, he never paused in the vigorous and persevering execution of the plans which his genius prompted him to undertake. He introduced a new, high, and successful mode of conquest, by striking immediately at the centre of armies and countries; and he was finally overthrown, both as general and sovereign, not because his individual antagonists were greater, but because the very physical remains of old English liberty were greater, and because public opinion was greater than all. He possessed, in an eminent degree, the great art of estimating and working upon the characters of his adversaries, and the still greater art of gaining the affections of his soldiers, who were always passionately fond of him, and who at this day adore his memory.
As a prince and a conqueror, his master-passion was a restless ambition, the impetuous tide of which bore him onward to his ends through many signal acts of injustice and violence. We shall not dwell upon them: there has been plenty of "envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness," to ring the changes on his worst deeds, and an abundance of those feelings, we find, survive the object that particularly roused them. Neither shall we indulge in uselessly regretting the good he _failed_ to do, or in reproaching him with the want of moderation and wisdom. Our business is with the illustrious soldier as he was, not as he might have been without his defects:
"His warlike mind, his soul devoid of fear; His high-designing thoughts were figured there."
His character was spoilt, or at least not adapted to the purposes of freedom, by a military education. The BOURBONS brought him up at one of their military schools, where his head was filled with CÆSAR and ALEXANDER, and then complained of him for his ambition: that is to say, the legitimate monarchs will let you be as ambitious and warlike as you please, provided you assist _their_ ambition and wars; but if not, you are a blood-thirsty conqueror and a tyrant. Some writers have attempted to confound, on _this_ occasion, ambition with mere ordinary selfishness. This is paltry and ridiculous. Napoleon was never so cool as when contemplating eminent success. Those who have carried him the news of victory have frequently supposed that he had learnt it before, or that he did not credit them. It warmed no feature of his countenance; it lit up no additional lustre in his eye. Yet this was not indifference; he had acquired a habit of subduing the ordinary emotions of mankind. Defeat and error certainly enraged him towards those who contributed to such mortifications; but they never had power to hurry him into any efforts to repair disaster. His intemperance never extended itself to his plans or resources, as a general. Let us look to the course of his feelings when the thunderbolt of his fortune was expended at Moscow. He had recourse to no dribbling efforts on which to hang the flame of military hope. He negotiated the plan of his retreat with all the precision of an attorney, who leaves nothing unprovided for. Trifles alone disturbed Napoleon. The offence of an inattention on the part of an attendant would make him angry; but if the world had burst asunder, and only left him a place to stand upon, he would have regarded it through his eye-glass as an experiment in natural philosophy!
Had Napoleon lived in times of less turbulence, he would have been a still greater statesman than a warrior. It is a fact not to be disputed, that it was this great man who definitively freed the entire Continent of Europe from that democratic mania, of all other tyrannies the most cruel, savage, and unrelenting, and which was in full, though less rapid, progress when he, by accepting the diadem of France, restored the _principles_ of monarchy to its vigour, and, at one blow, overturned the many-headed monster of revolution. To attain this beneficial end, HE SPILT NO BLOOD! The decapitation of Louis, in which he could have had no concern, completely overwhelmed the Bourbon dynasty; but Napoleon, in one single day, re-established that monarchial form of government which the imbecile ministers of England had, with so much expense of human life and treasure, been for many years unsuccessfully attempting to restore!
One of Napoleon's greatest admirers was Mr. Fox, who, speaking of him one day, said, "If we even shut our eyes on the martial deeds of this great man, we must allow that his _eloquence alone_ has elevated the French people to a higher degree of civilization than any other nation in Europe,--they have advanced a century during the last five years. Bonaparte combines the declamation of a Cicero with the soul-stirring philippicks of a Demosthenes; he appeals _to the head and the heart_, to honour and to self-interest, at the same time. Had this wonderful man turned his attention to poetry, instead of war, he would have beaten Homer out of the field! Whatever his manner of delivery may be, and I understand it is impressive, he is certainly the greatest orator that the world ever produced. The soaring grandeur of his conceptions is admirable, and his adaptation of the deeds and sayings of the heroes and statesmen of ancient times to present circumstances, not only shows the extent of his reading and the correctness of his taste in their application, but also serves to assure the French people that he is as capable of governing as he has proved himself to be in leading them forth to conquest. But it is in his power of simplification that he shines most; although as romantic as Ossian, he disdains all rodomontade and circumlocution; and, by stripping his subject of all extraneous matter, he reduces the most complex proposition down to the laconic simplicity of a self-evident axiom."
What, then, are we to think of a British minister, who could violate his most sacred pledges of protection to a man of this exalted description? But Lord Castlereagh's mind was not capable of estimating the worth and talents of Napoleon, and the mean expedient to which his lordship resorted to gain possession of the emperor's person will ever reflect the greatest possible disgrace upon his character, both as a man and a minister. The petty, vexatious, and unjustifiable conduct, to which the Emperor Napoleon was afterwards subjected at St. Helena, was equal in meanness to his capture. When the emperor quitted the Bellerophon, on the 8th of August, the officers and ship's company were in consternation; they felt implicated in the shame and the injustice of such a procedure. Napoleon traversed the deck to descend into the sloop, with calmness and a smile upon his lips, having at his side Admiral Keith. He stopped before Captain Maitland, charged him to testify his satisfaction to the officers and crew of the Bellerophon, and, seeing him extremely grieved, said to him, by way of consolation, "_Posterity cannot, in any way, accuse you for what is taking place; you have been deceived as well as myself._" Napoleon enjoyed, during twenty-four days, the protection of the British flag; he sojourned in the inner roads of Torbay and Plymouth; and it was not until after that lapse of time, on the 8th of August, when passing on board the Northumberland, that Admiral Keith disarmed the French,--the delivering up of arms being one of the characteristics of prisoners of war. The arms of the emperor, however, were not demanded.
It would be unnecessary to give a copy of the "official" regulations, which Lord Castlereagh ordered to be observed towards the illustrious Napoleon; their tyrannical operation will be made manifest in the following correspondence:
LETTER FROM COUNT MONTHOLON TO THE GOVERNOR, SIR HUDSON LOWE.
"_Longwood, 23rd August, 1816._
"GENERAL,
"I have received the treaty of the 2nd August, 1815, concluded between his Britannic Majesty, the Emperor of Austria, the Emperor of Russia, and the King of Prussia, which was annexed to your letter of the 23rd July.