It must be in the memory of most who recollect the period, that the
kingdom of Great Britain was seldom less provided against invasion than
at the commencement of this second war; and that an embarkation from the
ports of Holland, if undertaken instantly after the war had broken out,
might have escaped our blockading squadrons, and have at least shown
what a French army could have done on British ground, at a moment when
the alarm was general, and the country in an unprepared state. But it
is probable that Bonaparte himself was as much unprovided as England
for the sudden breach of the treaty of Amiens--an event brought about
more by the influence of passion than of policy; so that its
consequences were as unexpected in his calculations as in those of Great
Britain. Besides, he had not diminished to himself the dangers of the
undertaking, by which he must have staked his military renown, his
power, which he held chiefly as the consequence of his reputation,
perhaps his life, upon a desperate game, which, though he had already
twice contemplated it, he had not yet found hardihood enough seriously
to enter upon.
He now, however, at length bent himself, with the whole strength of his
mind, and the whole force of his empire, to prepare for this final and
decisive undertaking. The gun-boats in the Bay of Gibraltar, where calms
are frequent, had sometimes in the course of the former war been able to
do considerable damage to the English vessels of war, when they could
not use their sails. Such small craft, therefore, were supposed the
proper force for covering the intended descent. They were built in
different harbours, and brought together by crawling along the French
shore, and keeping under the protection of the batteries, which were now
established on every cape, almost as if the sea-coast of the channel on
the French side had been the lines of a besieged city, no one point of
which could with prudence be left undefended by cannon. Boulogne was
pitched upon as the centre port, from which the expedition was to sail.
By incredible exertions, Bonaparte had rendered its harbour and roads
capable of containing two thousand vessels of various descriptions. The
smaller sea-ports of Vimereux, Ambleteuse, and Etaples, Dieppe, Havre,
St. Valeri, Caen, Gravelines, and Dunkirk, were likewise filled with
shipping. Flushing and Ostend were occupied by a separate flotilla.
Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort, were each the station of as strong a naval
squadron as France, had still the means to send to sea.
A land army was assembled of the most formidable description, whether we
regard the high military character of the troops, the extent and
perfection of their appointments, or their numerical strength. The
coast, from the mouth of the Seine to the Texel, was covered with
forces; and Soult, Ney, Davoust, and Victor, names that were then the
pride and the dread of war, were appointed to command the army of
England, (for that menacing title was once more, assumed,) and execute
those manoeuvres, planned and superintended by Bonaparte, the issue of
which was to be the blotting out of Britain from the rank of
independent nations.
Far from being alarmed at this formidable demonstration of force,
England prepared for her resistance with an energy becoming her ancient
rank in Europe, and far surpassing in its efforts any extent of military
preparation before heard of in her history. To nearly one hundred
thousand troops of the line, were added eighty thousand and upwards of
militia, which scarce yielded to the regulars in point of discipline.
The volunteer force, by which every citizen was permitted and invited to
add his efforts to the defence of the country, was far more numerous
than during the last war, was better officered also, and rendered every
way more effective. It was computed to amount to three hundred and fifty
thousand men, who, if we regard the shortness of the time and the nature
of the service, had attained considerable practice in the use and
management of their arms. Other classes of men were embodied, and
destined to act as pioneers, drivers of wagons, and in the like
services. On a sudden, the land seemed converted to an immense camp, the
whole nation into soldiers, and the good old king himself into a
general-in-chief. All peaceful considerations appeared for a time to be
thrown aside; and the voice, calling the nation to defend their dearest
rights, sounded not only in Parliament, and in meetings convoked to
second the measures of defence, but was heard in the places of public
amusement, and mingled even with the voice of devotion--not unbecoming
surely, since to defend our country is to defend our religion.
Beacons were erected in conspicuous points, corresponding with each
other, all around and all through the island; and morning and evening,
one might have said, every eye was turned towards them to watch for the
fatal and momentous signal. Partial alarms were given to different
places, from the mistakes to which such arrangements must necessarily be
liable; and the ready spirit which animated every species of troops
where such signals called to arms, was of the most satisfactory
description, and afforded the most perfect assurance, that the heart of
every man was in the cause of his country.
Amidst her preparations by land, England did not neglect or relax her
precautions on the element she calls her own. She covered the ocean with
five hundred and seventy ships of war of various descriptions.
Divisions of her fleet blocked up every French port in the channel; and
the army destined to invade our shores, might see the British flag
flying in every direction on the horizon, waiting for their issuing from
the harbour, as birds of prey may be seen floating in the air above the
animal which they design to pounce upon. Sometimes the British frigates
and sloops of war stood in, and cannonaded or threw shells into Havre,
Dieppe, Granville, and Boulogne itself. Sometimes the seamen and marines
landed, cut out vessels, destroyed signal posts, and dismantled
batteries. Such events were trifling, and it was to be regretted that
they cost the lives of gallant men; but although they produced no direct
results of consequence, yet they had their use in encouraging the
spirits of our sailors, and damping the confidence of the enemy, who
must at length have looked forward with more doubt than hope to the
invasion of the English coast, when the utmost vigilance could not
prevent their experiencing insults upon their own.
During this period of menaced attack and arranged defence, Bonaparte
visited Boulogne, and seemed active in preparing his soldiers for the
grand effort. He reviewed them in an unusual manner, teaching them to
execute several manoeuvres by night; and experiments were also made upon
the best mode of arranging the soldiers in the flat-bottomed boats, and
of embarking and disembarking them with celerity. Omens were resorted to
for keeping up the enthusiasm which the presence of the First Consul
naturally inspired. A Roman battle-axe was said to be found when they
removed the earth to pitch Bonaparte's tent or barrack; and medals of
William the Conqueror were produced, as having been dug up upon the same
honoured spot. These were pleasant bodings, yet perhaps did not
altogether, in the minds of the soldiers, counterbalance the sense of
insecurity impressed on them by the prospect of being packed together in
these miserable chaloupes, and exposed to the fire of an enemy so
superior at sea, that during the chief consul's review of the
fortifications, their frigates stood in shore with composure, and fired
at him and his suite as at a mark. The men who had braved the perils of
the Alps and of the Egyptian deserts, might yet be allowed to feel alarm
at a species of danger which seemed so inevitable, and which they had no
adequate means of repelling by force of arms.
A circumstance which seemed to render the expedition in a great measure
hopeless, was the ease with which the English could maintain a constant
watch upon their operations within the port of Boulogne. The least
appearance of stir or preparation, to embark troops, or get ready for
sea, was promptly sent by signal to the English coast, and the numerous
British cruisers were instantly on the alert to attend their motions.
Nelson had, in fact, during the last war, declared the sailing of a
hostile armament from Boulogne to be a most forlorn undertaking, on
account of cross tides and other disadvantages, together with the
certainty of the flotilla being lost if there were the least wind
west-north-west. "As for rowing," he adds, "that is impossible.--It is
perfectly right to be prepared for a mad government," continued this
incontestable judge of maritime possibilities; "but with the active
force which has been given me, I may pronounce it almost impracticable."
Before quitting the subject, we may notice, that Bonaparte seems not to
have entertained the least doubts of success, could he have succeeded in
disembarking his army. A single general action was to decide the fate of
England. Five days were to bring Napoleon to London, where he was to
perform the part of William the Third; but with more generosity and
disinterestedness. He was to call a meeting of the inhabitants, restore
them what he calls their rights, and destroy the oligarchical faction. A
few months would not, according to his account, have elapsed, ere the
two nations, late such determined enemies, would have been identified by
their principles, their maxims, their interests. The full explanation of
this gibberish, (for it can be termed no better, even proceeding from
the lips of Napoleon,) is to be found elsewhere, when he spoke a
language more genuine than that of the _Moniteur_ and the bulletins.
"England," he said, "must have ended, by becoming an appendage to the
France of _my_ system. Nature has made it one of our islands, as well as
Oleron and Corsica."
It is impossible not to pursue the train of reflections which Bonaparte
continued to pour forth to the companion of his exile, on the rock of
Saint Helena. When England was conquered, and identified with France in
maxims and principles, according to one form of expression, or rendered
an appendage and dependency, according to another phrase, the reader may
suppose that Bonaparte would have considered his mission as
accomplished. Alas! it was not much more than commenced. "I would have
departed from thence [from subjugated Britain] to carry the work of
European regeneration [that is, the extention of his own arbitrary
authority] from south to north, under the Republican colours, for I was
then Chief Consul, in the same manner which I was more lately on the
point of achieving it under the monarchical forms." When we find such
ideas retaining hold of Napoleon's imagination, and arising to his
tongue after his irretrievable fall, it is impossible to avoid
exclaiming, Did ambition ever conceive so wild a dream, and had so wild
a vision ever a termination so disastrous and humiliating!
It may be expected that something should be here said, upon the chances
which Britain would have had of defending herself successfully against
the army of invaders. We are willing to acknowledge that the risk must
have been dreadful; and that Bonaparte, with his genius and his army,
must have inflicted severe calamities upon a country which had so long
enjoyed the blessings of peace. But the people were unanimous in their
purpose of defence, and their forces composed of materials to which
Bonaparte did more justice when he came to be better acquainted with
them. Of the three British nations, the English have since shown
themselves possessed of the same steady valour which won the fields of
Cressy and Agincourt, Blenheim and Minden--the Irish have not lost the
fiery enthusiasm which has distinguished them in all the countries of
Europe--nor have the Scots degenerated from the stubborn courage with
which their ancestors for two thousand years maintained their
independence against a superior enemy. Even if London had been lost, we
would not, under so great a calamity, have despaired of the freedom of
the country; for the war would in all probability have assumed that
popular and national character which sooner or later wears out an
invading army. Neither does the confidence with which Bonaparte affirms
the conviction of his winning the first battle, appear go certainly well
founded. This, at least, we know, that the resolution of the country was
fully bent up to the hazard; and those who remember the period will bear
us witness, that the desire that the French would make the attempt, was
a general feeling through all classes, because they had every reason to
hope that the issue might be such as for ever to silence the threat
of invasion.
The next most important occurrence that claims our notice in this
volume, and which fully delineates the nature and character of this
wonderful and ambitious individual, is the account of his declaration as
Emperor of France, and his subsequent Coronation.