BATTLE OF MARENGO--DEATH OF DESAIX--SAID TO HAVE BEEN
ASSASSINATED--NAPOLEON’S LOVE FOR HIM--SOUP KITCHENS AT
PARIS--LAVISH EXPENDITURE OF NAPOLEON’S GENERALS.
There was very little caricature of Napoleon in the year 1800, for the
best of reasons, that we had very little to do with him, as he was
occupied till May in settling his Government, and then he left for his
Italian campaign. But in this year (May 12) Gillray issued a series of
eight plates, ‘Democracy, or a Sketch of the life of Buonaparte,’ of
which I have already given three--‘Democratic Innocence,’ ‘Democratic
Humility,’ and ‘Democratic Religion.’ As four are not very interesting,
I have not given them, only the last of the series, which, evidently,
was meant to be extended.
[Illustration: DEMOCRATIC CONSOLATIONS.
Buonaparte on his Couch surrounded by the Ghosts of the
Murder’d--the dangers which threaten his Usurpation, and all
the Horrors of Final Retribution.
]
Combe, even, had very little to say of this time, lightly touching the
passage of the Alps, the occupation of Milan and Pavia, the defeat of
the Austrians at Montebello, and the battle of Marengo, where he makes
an assertion I cannot find elsewhere, nor trace to any French source,
except De Bourrienne.
Soon after this the gallant fellow
The Austrians drove from Montebello,
And then did he, with all his men go,
To aid the battle of Marengo;
Here was indeed a bold resistance,
Brave Boney saw it at a distance:
And at this time, it is not doubted,
Nap’s army was completely routed;
Indeed, it grieves the muse to say,
Our hero cried, and ran away;
But brave Desaix, who was not idle,
His horse soon grappled by the bridle,
And turning round the Consul’s phiz,
He said, while anger ruffled his,
‘Citizen Consul, look before ye--
That is the road to fame and glory.
Nap bit his lip, and swore by heaven,
Th’ offence was not to be forgiven;
Indeed, as many understand,
That hour the Gen’ral’s fall he plann’d.
By Victor and Desaix defeated,
The Austrians in their turn retreated.
This Victor, who destruction hurl’d
Made always a great noise in the world,
For he had been a drummer, so
The way to _beat_ he’d cause to know.
But, while victorious, now we find
Desaix received a shot behind,
His Aid-du-camp was bribed to do it,
And well, too, the First Consul knew it;
Besides the shot, a base attack!
He got a stab, too, in the back;
He fell, and instantly expir’d--
His death by Boney was desired:
Yet when they told him he was dead,
‘Why can’t I weep?’ he faintly said.
[Illustration]
This scandalous accusation is too contemptible to be thought true for a
moment; but I must reproduce it, to show what was said of Napoleon in
England. Yet, in a portion of it, there is a small substratum of truth.
Hear what De Bourrienne says: ‘The death of Desaix was not perceived at
the moment it took place. He fell without saying a word, at a little
distance from Lefebvre-Desnouettes. A battalion-sergeant of the ninth
brigade of light infantry, commanded by Barrois, seeing him extended
on the ground, asked permission to pick up his cap. It was found to be
perforated behind; and this circumstance leaves it doubtful whether
Desaix was killed by some unlucky inadvertency while advancing at the
head of his troops, or by the enemy when turning towards his men to
encourage them.’
Other accounts speak of his being shot in the breast.
How Napoleon loved Desaix, is best told by them who knew him well,
and let them bear witness against this gross calumny. De Bourrienne
says: ‘After supper, the First Consul dictated to me the bulletin of
the battle. When we were alone, I said to him, “General, here’s a fine
victory. You recollect what you said the other day, about the pleasure
with which you would return to France after striking a grand blow in
Italy: surely you must be satisfied now?”--“Yes, Bourrienne, I am
satisfied. But Desaix!... Ah, what a triumph would this have been if I
could have embraced him to-night on the field of battle!” As he uttered
these words, I saw that Bonaparte was on the point of shedding tears,
so sincere and profound was his grief for the death of Desaix. He
certainly never loved, esteemed or regretted, any man so much.’
O’Meara writes: ‘Asked him if it were true that Desaix had, a little
before his death, sent a message of the following purport to him: “Tell
the First Consul that I regret dying before I have done sufficient to
make my name known to posterity.” Napoleon replied, “it was true,” and
accompanied it with some warm eulogiums on Desaix.’
As a matter of fact Napoleon could not sufficiently honour the
memory of his comrade, so highly did he estimate him. He spoke, in
his bulletins, of the irreparable loss his death caused him; he took
for his own aides-de-camp, Rapp, and Savary, who had acted in this
capacity to Desaix. A medal was struck in his honour, his statue should
have been erected on the Place des Victoires, solemn ceremonies were
ordered, masses were said, and a monument was raised, by subscription,
on the Place Dauphine, Paris.
It is amusing to read in the newspapers of the day (with the exception
of the ‘Times’) the spiteful things said against Napoleon. But
Cobbett, in the ‘Porcupine,’ outdoes them all, and spits his venom
on the most harmless deeds. ‘The late establishment of Soup shops in
Paris, naturally excites some curious ideas. Madame Bonaparte, their
patroness, who is also a sprig of nobility, seems in no small degree
attached to the ancient regimen; hence probably her wish to revive
soup meagre, frogs, &c. Nor is it less remarkable that the French
should wish to establish soup shops, just at the time when they were
falling into disuse in this country.’[54] ‘The _Morning Post_ tells us
that “the Chief Consul has taken a thousand subscription tickets for
the _soup establishments_ at Paris.” This is at once a proof of that
_plenty_ which we have been told exists in France, and of the Charity
of the Chief Consul. If ever there was a country more degraded than
all others, it is France. Should there be, amongst the people of that
country, one man left, who entertains antient notions, what must be
his mortification and shame to see his countrymen not only ruled, but
actually fed like paupers, by a low bred upstart from the contemptible
island of Corsica! And this, ye gods! is the _Grand Nation_! This is
the nation who is to change the public law of Europe! This is the
nation to whom Britons are requested to bow down their heads! To
return to the “_soup establishments_,” we should be glad to know how
the Corsican came by the money to purchase a thousand tickets. Was
it part of the dower which Barras gave him with his bride? We rather
think he wrung it from the hands of the sovereign people. What a base,
what a despicable, race of slaves! They submit to assessments, forced
loans, requisitions, and confiscations; they see their treasure seized
on by millions upon millions, and they applaud the “_charity_ and
_generosity_” of the plunderer in chief, because he bestows on them the
fractions in soup maigre!‘[55]
Cobbett did not write with ink, but with gall, and was not at all
particular as to the veracity of his statements. Take the following
examples:[56] ‘_Lucien Buonaparte_ is holden in detestation in France.
His office, as Minister of the Interior, gives him the command of
very large sums, which he wastes in every kind of dissipation, and in
the most scandalous manner, in order, forsooth! to support his rank
as a _Prince of the Blood_!!! He is protected by the whole power of
his brother, whose _vanity_, the leading _foible_ in his character,
leads him to confer on the members of his family, all the advantages
and prerogatives of Sovereign princes. This conduct has rendered him
the object of incessant ridicule, and considerably diminished his
popularity.
‘Another species of evil peculiar to a corrupt military government,
prevails in a very great degree, and has become particularly offensive
to the French, viz. the influence and insolence of generals.
‘All the generals attached to Buonaparte, those who supported him in
his usurpation, and those who were with him in Egypt, bear an exact
resemblance to the minions and favourites of the Roman Emperors. These
men have the public treasure almost entirely at their disposal. General
Lasnes, one of the Consul’s chief friends, spends the enormous sum of
_five hundred thousand livres_ (upwards of twenty thousand guineas!!!)
a month, at Paris, where he and his aids de camp occupy one of the
most magnificent _hotels_ in that capital. Buonaparte, not being
able to supply his favourites with sufficient specie for defraying
their unbounded expences, grants them _congées d’exportation_, i.e.
an exclusive permission to export various articles the exportation of
which is prohibited by law; these _congées_ are sold to mercantile men,
who purchase them at a very high price.’
‘To the facts, which we stated on Monday, respecting the prodigality
of Buonaparte and his creatures, we may add the instance of General
Ney. This Republican Bashaw has fixed his head-quarters at Neubourg,
at the expence of which place, his table is furnished at the rate of
_ninety pounds sterling a day_! The French have a proverb, the truth
of which they and their neighbours now experience to their sorrow: “Il
vaut mieux qu’une cité soit brûlée, q’un parvenu la gouverne”--A city
had better be burnt to ashes, than submit to the rule of an upstart
vagabond.’[57]