The aroused spirit of the soldier calls;
Speak!--and Vienna cowering shall behold
Our banners waving o’er her prostrate walls.
I received, four days afterwards, at the circle of Madame Joseph
Bonaparte, with all other visitors, a copy of these stanzas. Most of the
foreign Ambassadors were of the party, and had also a share of this
patriotic donation. Count von Cobenzl had prudently absented himself;
otherwise, this delenda of the Austrian Carthage would have been
officially announced to him.
Another poetaster, of the name of Brouet, in a long, dull, disgusting
poem, after comparing Bonaparte with all great men of antiquity, and
proving that he surpasses them all, tells his countrymen that their
Emperor is the deputy Divinity upon earth--the mirror of wisdom, a
demi-god to whom future ages will erect statues, build temples, burn
incense, fall down and adore. A proportionate share of abuse is, of
course, bestowed on your nation. He says:
A Londres on vit briller d’un eclat ephemere Le front tout radieux d’un
ministre influent; Mais pour faire palir l’etoile d’Angleterre, Un SOLEIL
tout nouveau parut au firmament, Et ce soleil du peuple franc Admire de
l’Europe entiere Sur la terre est nomme BONAPARTE LE GRAND.
For this delicate compliment Brouet was made deputy postmaster-general in
Italy, and a Knight of the Legion of Honour. It must be granted that, if
Bonaparte is fond of flattery, he does not receive it gratis, but pays
for it like a real Emperor.
It has lately become the etiquette, not only in our Court circle and
official assemblies, but even in fashionable societies of persons who
are, or wish to become, Bonaparte’s public functionaries, to distribute
and have read and applauded these disinterested effusions of our poetical
geniuses. This fashion occasioned lately a curious blunder at a
tea-party in the hotel of Madame de Talleyrand. The same printer who had
been engaged by this lady had also been employed by Chenier, or some
other poet, to print a short satire against several of our literary
ladies, in which Madame de Genlis and Madame de Stael (who has just
arrived here from her exile) were, with others, very severely handled. By
mistake, a bundle of this production was given to the porter of Madame de
Talleyrand, and a copy was handed to each visitor, even to Madame de
Genlis and Madame de Stael, who took them without noticing their
contents. Picard, after reading an act of a new play, was asked by the
lady of the house to read this poetic worship of the Emperor of the
French. After the first two lines he stopped short, looking round him
confused, suspecting a trick had been played upon him. This induced the
audience to read what had been given them, and Madame de Talleyrand with
the rest; who, instead of permitting Picard to continue with another.
scene of his play, as he had adroitly begun, made the most awkward
apology in the world, and by it exposed the ladies still more who were
the objects of the satire; which, an hour afterwards, was exchanged for
the verses intended for the homage of the Emperor, and the cause of the
error was cleared up.
I have read somewhere of a tyrant of antiquity who forced all his
subjects to furnish one room of their houses in the best possible manner,
according to their circumstances, and to have it consecrated for the
reception of his bust, before which, under pain of death, they were
commanded to prostrate themselves, morning, noon, and night. They were
to enter this room, bareheaded and barefooted, to remain there only on
their knees, and to leave it without turning their back towards the
sacred representative of their Prince. All laughing, sneezing, coughing,
speaking, or even whispering, were capitally prohibited; but crying was
not only permitted, but commanded, when His Majesty was offended, angry,
or unwell. Should our system of cringing continue progressively to
increase as it has done these last three years, we, too, shall very soon
have rooms consecrated, and an idol to adore.