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

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 the great 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 envieds 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 agents ?
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 down his empire, and whose 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 revolution, which, with the rapidity of a dream has
ding to those laws ; which direct the liberation of every
hurled this extraordinary character from the summit of
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 severer punishment' 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
^. Sa
.......
... a."'"*".''`,.......0r ........---0•• . •
... ...dew ............. 9%,......,.
-

to to ale
er
I *.•
,y
'
tr=_L•t)ll