The National Register. — London, England, 1815-08-06 00:00:00

r 4 4 .1 • • ' . 9 J.• • : • '. • . Car Stuff, Constitution, autt Labe. , • i ' •• • • • •. n.44 PI • - • • • • ..1 ,"). :. Pu4Liskign AT NO. 11, NEWCASTLE-STREET ) STRAND. 1 ' I : SUNDAY, AUGUST 6, 1815. No. 397. PR ICE 9d. POLITICAL DISQUISITION. THE FATE AND DISPOSAL OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE. What a chaage have a few weeks Produced! On the Ist of June the Field of Mali was holden. Seated on the imperial throne in the midst of his brothers, the representa tives of the land assembled before him, and all France at his feet, Napoleon presented a new Constitution. The flourish of trumpets., the waling of a thousand banners, the firing of a thousand cannons proclaimed its acceptance. Ile took and received the oath. of fidelity. hosts of vete ran warriors, of national guards and Federates defiled in all the pomp of military parade before him, and when his hand; presented them with new eagles and colours, their acclamations rent the sky. Countless multitudes caught the enthusiasm of the hour, a profusion of rash vows rose to Heaven, and consenting Paris shook with peals of fes_ tive thunder.—On the Ist of August, solitary and sad, Na poleon stands a captive on the deck of the Bellerophon. Of all the relatives, of all the friends, of all the multitudes of warriors and citizens which: lately sterounded him and swore to die in his defence, ugly a few officers remain, with their wives and children, the companions of his flight, and the order is come to separate them from him and send them back to punishment and death. He learns that a rock in a boundless ocean, lashed with incessant storms without, the abode of sterility within, is fixed for his habitation and his grave. He looks round, and beholds the deep covered with crowds from whose lips no sound of admiration, no voice of pity breaks. Beyond, he descries those hills he longed to climb as a conqueror, those vales whose fertility he hoped to reap, that country, whom he vainly boasted he would subdue, whose strength after twenty years of war, has broken down his empire, and whose merry now spares his life! After such a picture, weakened rather than exaggerated, of the revolution, which, with the rapidity of a dream has hurled this extraordinary character from the summit of human greatness to the depths of misery, it may well be asked what severer punishment' could be inflicted upon him than prolonged existence ? Yet, there are writers who ptetend to be his enemies and who wish I'l No. CCCAVIII. his punishment and grant him at once the peace of the tomb! To a man in his situation the great effort is to live, not to die—to live, and from the rocks of his captivity to seek in vain for that world, once filled Kith his power and the prey of his ambition—to live, and to know himself forgotten, or if not forgotten, remembered as an examp;e of the phrenzy of man and the judgements of God—to live, and to fi el that he owes the breath he draws and the food he consumes to the mercy and charity of the nation he most envied, and most threatened, is to endure a mental hell, which disarms death of all its terrors, and makes the grave appear a welcome home. Those, therefore, who pretend that . to render his punishment commensurate with his guilt, he should be brought to the seatiold, either speak without reflection or else are his secret well wishers. Some, more insiduously still, urge the propriety of trying him for the murder of Captain Wright, and let ting his future fate abide by the issue. They know that this charge rests on assertions; that no evidence can be prodaced. Who aro the witnesses who could be brought forward ; and if they were found, what authority could compel Ntten dance ? All that is certainly known is ,mpel their . a. _ that Captain 'Wright died in a French prison under circum stances which justify a strong suspicion that his own nand did not perpetrate the deed. If he was murdered, none but the secret executioners could prove the fact, and even then it would remain to show that Buonaparte gave the order. 'Would Fondle condescendingly open the records of the Police, and throw a sufficient light upon the subject to criminate himself, in case our unfortunate countrymen should really have fallen under the daggers of his agents ? In all probability the result of the trial would be the acquittal of the accused, not perhaps because he was inno cent, but for want of proof. Then how great would be his triumph and that of his friends. For, having once been subjected to the, operation of our laws, and in case of his conviction 'exposed to the execution of their sen,, tence, in case of acquittal he must also .be treated•accor ding to those laws ; which direct the liberation of every prisoner found not guittli of the crime laid to his charge. Those, therefore, who recommend that Napoleon should be tried, only aim at procuring his liberty. They naturally enough attempt to conceal their purp , »e the leil of personal abuse; and, like the arch- F --- • I POLITICAL DISQUISITION. his punishment and grant him at once the peace of the i ........... tomb! To a man in his situation th e grea t effort is to live, 1 THE FATE AND DISPOSAL OF NAPOLEON not to die—to live, and from the rocks of his capti% ity to BUONAPARTE. 4. i ' "" ' . . . ..!,•747. tl;-.1 ; I.* seek in vain for that world, once filled with his power and the prey of his ambition—to live ) and to know himself What a chaage have a few weeks produced! On the forgotten, or if not forgotten, remembered as an examp;e Ist of June the Field of Mali was holden. Seated on the of the phrenzy of man and the judgements of God—to imperial throne in the midst of his brothers, the representa- I lire, and to Ael that he owes the breath he draws and the fives of the land assembled before him, and all France at I food he consumes to the mercy and charity of the nation i his feet, Napoleon presented a new Constitution. The he most envied s and most threatened ) is to endure a mental flourish of trumpets„•the waving of a thousand banners, hell, which disarms death of all its tereors, and makes the the firing of a thousand cannons proclaimed its acceptance. grave appear a welcome home. Those, therefore, who lie took and received the oath. of fidelity. Hosts of vete- pretend that to render his punishment commensurate ran warriors, of national guards and Federates defiled in with his guilt, he should be brought to the seatiold ) all the pomp of military parade before him, and when his either speak without reflection or else are hand; presented them with new eagles and colours, their his secret well- wishers. Some, more insiduously still, urge the propriety acclamations rent the sky. Countless multitudes caught of trying him for the murder of Captain Wright, and let- the enthusiasm of the hour, a profusion of rash vows rose ting his future fate abide by the issue. They know that to Heaven, and consenting Paris shook with peals of fes - this charge rests on assertions; that no evidence can be tire thunder.—On the Ist of August, solitary and sad, Na- poleon stands a captive on the deck of the Bellerophon. prodaced. Wile are the witnesses who could be brought forward ; and if they were found, what authority could Of all the relatives, of all the friends, of all - the multitudes ? compel their attendance All that is certainly known is . of warriors and citizens which: ]lately strrounded him and 1 that Captain Wright died in a French prison under cireuee - swore to die in his defence, only a felt officers remain, with 1 stances which justify a strong suspicion that his own hand their wives and children, the companions of his flight, and d the order is come to separate them from him and send them did not perpetrate the deed. If he was murdered, none but back to punishment and death. He learns that a rock in the secret executioners could prove the fact, and even then it would remain to show that Buonaparte gave the order. a boundless ocean, lashed with incessant storms without, Would Fouche condescendingly open the records of the the abode of sterility within, is fixed for his habitation . and Police, and throw a sufficient light upon the subject to his grave. He looks round, and beholds the deep covered i criminate himself, in case our unfortunate countrymen with crowds from whose lips no sound of admiration, no should really have fallen under the daggers of his agen ts ? voice of pity breaks. Beyond, he descries those hills he In all probability the. result of the trial would be the . longed to climb as a conqueror, those vales whose fertility acquittal of the accused, not perhaps because he 'a as inno- he hoped to reap, that country, whom he vainly boasted he cent, but for want of proof. Then how great would be would subdue, whose strength after twenty years of w , al. his triumph and that of his friends. For, having once has broken d own hi s em pi r e, an d w h os e merry now been subjected to the, operation of our laws, and in case spares his life! After such a picture, weakened rather than exaggerated of his conviction 'exposed to the execution of their sen , . ' fence, in case of acquittal he must also .be trrateduccor- of the revol u ti on , w hi c h, w ith th e rap idit y o f a d ream h as ding to those laws ; which direct the libera tion of every hurled this e x t raor di nar y c h arac t er f rom th e summ it o f human greatness to the depths of misery, it may well be prisoner found not guiltli of the crime laid to his charge. ) who recommend that Napoleon should asked what s everer p un i s h men t' could be inflicted upon Those ) therefore be tried, only aim at procuring his liberty. ' They him than prolonged existence ? Yet, there are writers naturally enough attempt to conceal their purp , »c who ptetend to be his enemies and who wish to to ate . rot. 11 No.CCCAVIII. , c‘. ,41 er the leil of personal abuse; and, like the aich- • trii.:_4' - - - . T ^. S a ....... ... a. "'" *". ''`,.......0r ........---0•• . • ... ... dew ............. 9%,......,. - to to ale er I *.• ,y ' tr=_L•t)ll