The Imperial Captive; or, the unexampled career of the ex-emperor Napoleon, from the period of his quitting Elba to that of his surrender to the British nation. The second edition

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THE IMPERIAL CAPTIVE; OR, THE UNEXAMPLED CAREER OF THE FROM THE PERIOD OF HIS QUITTING ELBA TO THAT OF HIS SURRENDER TO THE BRITISH NATION, CIRCUMSTANTIALLY DEVELOPED. BY JOHN GWILLIAM, Author of the Battles of the Danube and Barrosa, Sfc. c\c. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. THE SECOND EDITION. LONDON: PRINTED FOR ROBERT JENNINGS, 2, POULTRY, AND TO BE HAD OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1817. TO THE ADMIRERS OF GENIUS, (WHETHER ADORNING THE MONARCH OR THE SUBJECT) €|)IS G&QVk, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE CHARACTER OF THAT EXTRAORDINARY INDIVIDUAL NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY THEIR OBEDIENT SERVANT, THE AUTHOR.

PART I VOL. I a ARGUMENT

Scene, Island of Elba, at moonlight. — The Emperor Napoleon meditating on the shore the invasion of Fiance. — Arrival there of Marshal Bertrand. — Napoleon's conferences with that officer upon the expedition. — Bertrand's immediate approval of the enterprise : his cautious recommendations to the Emperor touching the dispositions of the soldiers. — Inflexibility of Napoleon : his confidence in the energies of Bertrand. — Apostrophe to Buonaparte. — Morning. — Preparations for the voyage. — Assembling of the troops by Bertrand.— Arrival amongst them of tbe Emperor. — His animated addresses to them, and encomiums on their invincible character : his contempt of the Bourbons : reply of the troops : their firm adherence to his cause. — Nightfall : tranquil state of Elba at that time. — Meditations of the Emperor during the embarkation. — Anxiety of his partisans for their immediate departure. — Arrival of the Emperor at Porto Ferrajo. — Stillness of the night during the preparations for quitting the Island. — State of Napoleon's mind at that crisis. — Comparison between Buonaparte and Sylla. — The Emperor's restlessness to recover his past splendor, anil to defeat the projects of the Allied Powers. — Reflections on the important character of his hazardous undertaking : the contempt he manifested for the congress of Vienna. — Reflections on tbe sentiments posterity may entertain of bis daring invasion of the French territory. — Exultation which Englishmen should feel, in having quelled and annihilated the hopes excit by tbat unmatched and astonjsliiag^dventure. — Conclusion. r. J. HE moon had rais'd her lamp on high, O'er stern Fbrrajo's shatter'd tow'r, And not a zephyr seem'd to sigh Beneath the star-illumin'd sky, So peaceful was the midnight hour : It was a scene so calm, so still, So dull for minds that feast on fame, That one might think the guilty will On such a night would shrink with shame, And cease from ev'ry deadly aim Upon the soft and star-light sea No object smote the charmed eye, — But all was pure tranquillity In ocean, atmosphere, and sky, As if the list'ning world would hear Th' Almighty speak, from his high sphere, That summons which shall end its thrall, And e'en the shrouded dead appal !

II. But in the midst of that fair scene There lurk'd a Pow'r devoid of rest, Of dauntless heart and scowling mien, Who ey'd the realms of heav'n serene IndifFrently at best : What were the twinkling stars to him, And what to Him th' expansive sea, But objects that might check the whim Of his infuriate fantasy, Where plots and schemes of mingled hue, And all to foul ambition true, Their jarring conflict kept ? Alas ! the scene that shone so fair To others' eyes, to him was bare ; And wheresoe'er he stept, There seem'd a mystic circle drawn, That barr'd approach, and told too plain Rebellion's dark and nitrous spawn Was kindling in his feverish brain. III. On this lov'd night, alone, and far He wander'd on the moonlight shore, And many a fierce, malignant star Illum'd the pride of days no more Before his rapt enthusiast brain Rush'd Revolution's ghastly train His fancy feasted on the scene, From every doubt exempt, And in his sanguinary spleen, He cried, " We'll be as we have been, " Or perish in the attempt !"

Sometimes his air was dull and cold, As if pale Fear's unfriendly hold Had marr'd his pleasing dream ; Sometimes his hurried footsteps told The progress of his scheme : But those who saw, might plainly read In his fierce eye the fiercer deed, In his swift steps the dread advance Of Murder from the shores of France ; In his knit brows and clenched hand The firm resolves that never rest, '<b Some project which, though deeply plann Had never been express'd. IV. Fate brought him to his oft-tried friend, . Who still, in danger's hour, Was ever ready to defend, And prop his falling pow'r : They met ; — few words of caution broke, It was enough to name The outline of the mighty stroke, Redemptive of their fame : In each dark eye of these rash men A thousand glories burst again ; They saw through Europe's mighty space For Peace no transient resting place — No spot whereon the dove might fall, And yield her olive branch to all — No palace from their presence free, Nor haunt of grov'lling misery- No river but whose silver tide Should with their bloody feats be dyed — No harvest but their lawless train Should blight, and prove its glory vain — And not a cottage but should feel The vengeance of their sheathless steel V. No sooner heard Bertrand the scheme, Than his high mind began to soar, Than his rapt eye began to gleam With pleasure never known before " My Liege !" he cried, " my soul has caught " New courage from thy princely thought; " It mounts aloft with keener wing, " It feels a more exciting spring <t tt .( it tt u / it .< te a u tt « tt a a » it."

Than when our shatter'd ranks renew'd " Their march across the Danube's tide And, at a single stroke, subdued " Lorrain's inflated pride : That day, my sire ! was one to me, As this shall surely be to thee Whatever deeds we've done before Seem fading now on Lethe's shore,- But this new deed — this godlike aim ! Leads on to everlasting fame ; Eclipses all thy bright campaigns, E'en that of storied Jena's plains ; Stamps on thy proud, aspiring crest A glory never yet possess'd, Nor all the realms of earth can show, Since yonder stars felt nature's glow ; — And when succeeding times unfold it, Mankind shall doubt while they behold VI. He heard, and to Bertrand replied — " Marshal ! I know thy ardent zeal, " Thy efforts to redeem my pride, " And all thy various prowess feel : " Succor'd by thee, my present views " Shall prosper, and my fortune smile ; " And rank Sedition, with her crews, " Receive the wages of her guile.

" What is this king — this dronish fool, " But one bred up in England's school ? " England ! our firm, unchanging foe, " The cause of this our overthrow, " Of all the wrongs we tamely bear " In this dark dungeon of despair ; " What is he but a tool she sends " To serve her individual ends ? " So mean, so impotently base, " That nature holds him in disgrace ; " And, as disgusted with his mind, " Makes him the scoff of all mankind, " Afflicts him in his utmost need, " And laughs at all his palsied powers ; " While France, revolting at the deed, " And scorning such a blockhead's creed, " Calls on a saving arm like ours !" vn. To whom Bertrand, not less elate, Replied, defying Time and Fate, — " My Liege ! the theme whereon we muse, " I dare at once presage, " Would rouse the troops, if caution choose " The moment to engage it a it ti it it it tt a tt it tt tt b Their spirits, which at present wear Th' unfriendly qualms of wan despair For know, where'er I bend my way, The sounds of sorrow, fear, dismay, Of sad regret that e'er they came The followers of thy fallen fame, " Salute my startling ears ; Sometimes, for lack of glorious strife, They seem for deadliest projects rife, Sick of this dull, degrading life, " And in their mien appears That stubborn air which yearns for deeds " None but the mightiest arms perform, On which no other genius feeds, Than such as ne'er from death recedes Where War his furious chariot speeds " O'er fields with slaughter warm.'-'- " Then let us arm !"

Napoleon cried- " Give to the mighty deed a name ! " Let every man we boast be tried " If worthy to partake our fame : " To thee, Bertrand ! so long my friend, " This sacred charge I dare confide ; " Thou know'st full well the glorious end " That animates my pride " To thee, who in each desp'rate hour " Hast stood the champion of my pow'r; " O'erturn'd the strength of many an host, " Present where'er I needed most ; ""Whose architectural mind restor'd " My sovereign pride, and to my sword " Gave victory, when the Imperial crown " Seem'd stript of half its bright renown ; y " To thee, whose great, aspiring mind, " No bribe can warp, no prospects blind, " Whose constant heart and hand alone " Are worth e'en more than all my throne " To thee, this awful charge I yield, " And all the glory yet to come, " When on the dark, ensanguin'd field " Rolls far and wide the charging drum " Whatever fame attends the cause, '• To thee belongs the sole applause."

IX. " Enough !" replied the brave compeer, Whose bosom never crouch'd to fear ; — " Enough ! through all our little band " The embers of revolt are fann'd ; " And every heart, and every sword, " Impatient for thy wish'd-for word : " Tis but to summon forth their zeal, " Their deeds shall answer well th' appeal, " Confirm thy confidence reposing, " When on the foe their ranks are closing, " All cry, 'for France." their restless hearts " Are panting to be free; " Peace, with her train of smiling arts, " To them, to us, no scene imparts " But woe and slavery ! " What is tranquillity to them " Who never own'd a brighter gem " Than what the tented field affords, " Hewn by a thousand ardent swords,- " When loud and fierce, from side to side, " The cannon send their carnage wide, — " And clashing steels in fragments riven, " Peal-up their chorus-strain to heaven ?

" Or when, in glittering cohorts bound, " The horsemen shake the vaulted ground, " And trumpets o'er the field resound, " To drown the hideous cries " Of those who never shall be found, " But in the of death profound, " To greet their kindred's eyes ? X. " All, Sire ! are ready ; all demand " Thy presence, and thy high command, — " Their swelling heart-strings throb with glee, " To burst this mean captivity, — " Their swords, though few, are firm and true. " And thrice their nuir.bers can subdue " Where Louis bids them strike; " Besides, ere this our brave compeers " On yonder land have reach'd their spheres, " Their cause and ours alike." He said, and joining heart and hand, They left the lonely moonlight strand, Journeying forth, in soul elate — Mocking the changeless terms of Fate, To con, in more secluded hall, This resurrection from their fall, And all the fortunes that accrue From hearts so warm, from swords so true On thy dark brow, Napoleon, then Flash'd Hope's propitious beams again, — In thy stern eye the vengeful thought Of retribution burn'd ; But Mercy there no refuge sought, And from thee, hopeless, turn'd. c Then on thy soul, thou man of strife !

To whom alone commotion's life, Whom millions ardently ador'd, Who own'st no other power or lord, What pleasing visions broke ! Marengo's field and Wagram's plain Burst on thy laughing eyes again, And through the clearing smoke Of past defeats thou seem'dst to see No other guest than Victory,— No other angel spoke ; And in thine ears her accents fell Like curses from the depths of hell, Pronounc'd on those, whose chang'd estate Kindled thy vengeance and thy hate How dream 'st thou then ere long to sway Those lands, where late thine empire lay, i Whence late thy haughty cohorts rode, Careering to the Czar's abode ! How did'st thou dream to reinstate Those vassals who had made thee great ! But now, like thee degraded, hurl'd In ruin down a scoffing world ; The victims of thy savage pride, — Insulted, spurn'd, abhorr'd, defied, Levell'd e'en to the very brute, And mock'd by tongues that late were mute XII.

Yes, thou did'st passionately dream, Of living in the world's esteem, — Did'st fondly dream that future time Would hold thy genius great, sublime, And hand thee down to other men, As one ne'er to be match'd again, ■}' For valor, and those deeds that claim The suffrage of immortal Fame : But though thy dream were just, 'twas short. Thou wert coquettish Fortune's sport ; Men prais'd thy courage — some admir'd The feats with which thysoul was fir'd, — They lov'd thee for the mind that broke Thus bold from its degrading yoke, And in their vast amazement cried, " The hand of heaven is on his side !" But, oh ! mistaken men ! their pride No sooner kindled than it died ! 'Twas as the flash that rakes the sky, Quiv'ring athwart the realms on high ; But while its golden splendour fires The darkness round, itself expires, — Leaving to th' enquiring sight A gloomy and a cheerless night, — A void whereon the mind may dwell, And ask if it be heaven or hell !

XIII. Night pass'd — and when the morning broke Along the eastern sky, All things the mighty conquest spoke, And charm'd the soldier's eye ; And all were ready for the stroke, Which few might dare defy : But who could guess the cause or aim, Or, guessing, would unfold, Whether it sprang from whisp'ring Fame, Or thirst for impious gold? The fleet that kiss'd the shelving shore Ne'er swam so haughtily before, — The streamers on the topmasts danc'd — A flood of living light ; The warrior-steeds impatient prane'd, Whilst o'er the sloping bay'nets glanc'd Sol's scintillations bright, As isa million stars had chane'd To sweep the glooms of night : And all who saw enquir'd the cause — Look'd wistful on — nor shew'd applause- But answer none presum'd to give, On which the public mind might live; — Some deem'd it only meant for sport, Or to Genoa bent ; While minds of e'en the loftiest port, Divin'd not its intent.

XIV. Pass'd on the day in various thought, And none the vast design had caught, Save those who iu its circle mov'd, And all its various points approv'd : Some left the shore, and marvell'd why No sail had brav'd the cheerful sky ; Whilst others, wrapt in wonder, staid, Delighted with the gay parade, Till Cynthia o'er the waters play'd, As she had yestere'en ; But every bark was still delay'd- No sign of parting seen Meanwhile the firm Bertrand, remote, Convok'd his martial power ; Nor aught of their intent had smote Suspicion's ear till that calm hour : On the dull island's northern shore Marshall'd were all the fiends of gore, Waiting the presence of their lord, With ready heart, and readier sword, — b All prompt to aid his deadly scheme, Their best reward, his fair esteem, — And that poor wealth which Plunder seizes Whilst feeble Virtue writhes and freezes,- And Justice, as the tempest lowers, Doubts of her own subduing powers.

XV, The Chieftain came ! — his martial air Foretold the deep design ; His rebel eyes' enraptur'd glare, Half impious, half divine, Call'd back their minds to other scenes — To other glorious days, When Honor's falsely-gilded greens, And Fame's precarious bays, Adorn'd those helms that wore, at last, The mock of years and ages past, And caution 'd man from deeds too great For his confin'd, enfeebled state. He came ! — it was an hour that wore The traits of times they knew before : He came ! and in each anxious breast Swell'd the dark passions that infest The brutal heart that never knew A wish to pure affection true : They thought of past disgrace — they thought Of what their steady swords had wrought ! When swift on Victory's wings they rode, And half the crouching world bestrode ; These thoughts but fir'd their souls, and woke New courage for the deadly stroke.

XVI. He came ! — rebellion nerv'd his steel, And urg'd thus prompt his warm appeal : " Soldiers ! the long-wish'd time is come " Your Emperor dares no more be dumb ; " Since but for you I've greatly dar'd, — " Since you have all my perils shar'd, " And, in misfortune's darkest day, " Chased every doubt and fear away, " And borne me to the wish'd-for goal, " Where Victory charm'd my panting soul ;■ " Since 'tis your glory and your weal " Alone that rouse and fire my zeal, " And urge me to confront the foe " That long has aim'd your overthrow; " Since in your steady ranks I've dar'd " The heaviest wrath that foe prepared, " And foil'd on many a well-fought plain '•' Their gold, and prov'd their prowess vain; " Since 'twas for these my sword was drawn, " Still will 1 all their friendship scorn, — ti t: M a u tt u u (i M c< R it tt ti is Still meet them on our native ground, And all their mad designs confound, — And, girt with your stupendous might, Give their rank limbs to feed the kite.

XVII. Soldiers ! the hour is now arriv'd When all my genius swells reviv'd : Fortune, at length, affords the time When all our recent feats sublime Shall reach the glory and renown, Congenial with th' imperial crown. Shall it be said, in future days, That one mischance could damp the blaze Of that bright character in arms Which fill'd the world with just alarms ? Or will you now, when Fate affords A crisis for your ardent swords " To reap that harvest you had lost, " When one involving world of frost " O'erwhelm'd the fields we bravely won, " And marr'd our vict'ry's mantling sun ? " Say ! will ye shrink, nor dare withstand " Those rebels who usurp our land, — " Whom chance alone has given to sway " The clime where late our empire lay ? " Will ye now shrink, nor bravely throw " Your prowess on that upstart foe ; " That foe whom England succors there, — " England, whom still we nobly dare ; " Will ye now shrink, and let your fame ■" Be blent with foul dishonor's name ?

XVIII " No, Soldiers ! never be it said, " Though Frenchmen have their cause betray'd, " Ne'er told that you have once disgrac'd ■" The faith upon your courage plac'd ! " In public — in retirement's gloom — " In heat — in cold, when nature's bloom " Lay shrouded in one common blight, " Has it not been my chief delight, " My sole endeavor to maintain " Your glory free from every stain ? " To raise you to the highest fame " That waits upon the warrior's name " And hand you down in history's page, " The pride of each succeeding age ? " Yes, Soldiers ! and the hour is come " That calls forth every thund'ring drum " Each ardent sword — each passion dread- " The arm of strength — the cautious head- ". The vengeance of each Gallic heart, " Vers'd in the warrior's noble art, — re a ti ti .1 it it tt « a it it n it tt a And every meaner soul that boasts Its birth within our circling coasts ; Yes ! that hour shall now requite The toils of many a sleepless night, The schemes of many a busy day, When clasp'd in Victory's arms we lay, And the stunn'd foe confounded fled, To shroud in mean Dishonor's bed !

XIX. Say, Soldiers ! do I misconceive Those hearts I've dared so long believe ? Or place reliance where, at length, My cause shall find no bond of strength, Where all my fancied dreams shall fade, And my heart prove its faith betray'd ? No, friends in glory ! you can feel The force of honor's warm appeal, — " Can see that Belgium, France, and all " The states that skirt the bounds of Gaul " Mourn o'er our transitory fall, " And cry aloud for aid ; " And shall we, thus invited, shroud " In this mean haunt our banners proud, " Nor draw th' avenging blade ? " Can we, at such a crisis, pause, " Or fear to grace so good a cause ? " Soldiers ! I need not fire your zeal " By rhetoric's well-attun'd appeal ; " Your hearts a nobler impulse fires — " Your's are the hero's great desires — " The love of glory, and the name " Worthy the monument bf Fame ; " These, and your country's wrongs invite " Your ready falchions to the fight ; " These stir your hearts — and heaven ordains " A deathless honour for your pains — " A ransom from these impious chains !

XX. " Besides, our martial brothers weep " O'er their detested lives, " And long in Lethe's stream to steep " The mem'ry that survives- " The mem'ry of that dark mischance " Which crush'd awhile the pow'r of France : " Already thro' our vast clampaign " The voice of ransom breaks again, " And once our well-known standard shewn, " The flame of freedom would be blown, " And all our country's spirit glow, " Exultant o'er our overthrow : " Would not our brave associates say " That Europe, leagu'd in dread array, " Urging her triple millions forth, " From Spain e'en to the utmost north, " Alone, thus brac'd, could overwhelm " The valor of our matchless realm, " And tame the spirit fierce and high " Of our belov'd and envied sky ? " Will they not also say, that while " Low-minded fraud, and treacb'rous guile, " And rankling jealousy, and hate, " On all their solemn councils wait — " Will they not say — this is the hour " For France to re-assume her power, " To reinstate her Prince, and free " Her children from captivity ? — D " Will they not say — ' Behold the men " { You never hop'd to meet again- " ' Whose hearts courageous and sublime " ' Bent only to th' o'erpow'ring clime " ' Of that disastrous land, whose hordes " c Could ne'er withstand our steady swords :' " Will they not say in conscious pride, " ' These are the men so often tried, " ' Behold them ready for the field, " ' Girt with the falchion and the shield,' — " And can that invitation plain " Call for your promptitude in vain ?

" Or can they e'er in vain oppose " Our weak, our terror-stricken foes, " While at their head their Emp'ror leads " Their banners forth to god-like deeds, " While his command inflames their hearts, " And firmness to their swords imparts ? XXII. " Partners in glory, as in toil ! " Offspring of Gallia's favour'd soil ! " Heroes in fame ! my brave Compeers ! " Whom nor the heat of tropic spheres, " Nor the keen vengeance of the pole " Could shake in stubbornness of soul, " This will they say — and you may know " From your own hearts' expansive glow, " If aught can lure one arm away " Where duty bids its fury play : " No ! nought can poison their great minds, " Within them Faith her palace finds ; " And when my standard shines again " Across yon finely-rolling main — " When our Imperial Eagle's form " Surmounts the terrors of the storm, " And, soaring to its native skies, " Confronts its deadliest enemies, " Then shall they in a phalanx run " To greet the standard of the sun, " Pant to embrace their fav'rite bird, " And bless the Monarch they preferr'd " To him, whom force and fraud have brought, " To check each proudly-daring thought, " To shackle that intrepid might " Which fill'd the world with just affright, " And with their superstitious creeds " Eclipse our bright, unrivall'd deeds.

XXIII. ti Soldiers ! this great, this glorious theme " Has long possess'd my every dream, — ? " Fir'd all my thoughts, warm'd every vein, " And made me all myself again ; — " In men's despite I will reclaim " My crown, and vindicate my fame, — " Will reach the throne thro' ev'ry strife, " And yield it only with my life ; — " For I have set that life, at last, " Upon a great and noble cast, " And, though I boast no firm ally, " Still, soldiers ! will I stand the die, — " Still brave the worst of ills, and fall " A hero worthy you and Gaul, — " Or, firmly seated on her throne, " See our oppressors overthrown ! " What are these men who rule our clime " But puppets, with the name sublime " Of kings to their mean natures given, " But mock'd and shunn'd by me and heaven a ti a it a ii ti it it it it it it ti it a Who knows their fame, their worth, their pride, Except to every vice allied ?

Their very names are loath'd, and France, When bursting from her shameful trance, Swore never to receive again These weak, these self-deluded men. No, comrades ! such enfeebled knaves Shall ne'er disgrace those noble graves, Which heaven, to crush their crimes, prepar'd For thousands, who had boldly dar'd To check their mad, their weak career, And fill their shrinking hearts with fear, — For thousands, whom they scourg'd unseen In haunts, where light had never been, Insulted, injur'd, and defied, In all the pomp of upstart pride ! " No, soldiers ! these are not the kings " For France to succor with her wings, " These are no leaders form'd to show " Your prowess to the stubborn foe, — " To restitute those realms you won " Beneath the rays of Egypt's sun, " And many a cold, unseemly sky " Of gloom-invested Muscovy : " The times demand a nobler band, " A firmer, and an abler hand — " That hand behold ! — on me depend, " Soon shall our present suff 'rings end ; " A thousand passions fire my brain " In this our promising Campaign, " And, of your pow'rful aid possess'd, " No force shall tame this daring breast, " Till Death has clos'd my eyes, and giv'n " This body to the winds of heav'n, " Or to these limbs the Throne we sigh for.

" The Throne we'll gain or gladly die for." XXV. He ceas'd, and swift through all the train The dreams of glory burst again, They thought of Austerlitz, — they thought Of what th' Imperial arms had wrought On Wagram's bloody strand — Of Eulau's memorable day, When, crush'd in death, the vanquish'd lay Beneath the Spoiler's hand : Hence ev'ry look proclaim'd their zeal — Th' effects of his approv'd appeal — Their confidence — their boundless dreams Of Plunder and emprise, And all the hideous wreck that teems Where'er Rebellion's beacon gleams, And Terror clouds the skies. XXVI. Yes, that Harangue's seditious spell Kindled the foulest dreams of hell, — Their predatory thoughts awoke, And, casting off their slavish yoke, Exultingly they cried, — " Soon shall these vaunting Bourbons fly " For safety back to England's sky, " And all their upstart pride " Be lost in the unbounded fame " Of our Napoleon's splendid Name !

" Soon shall the mean, inglorious race " Who triumph in our deem'd disgrace, " Seek refuge in those very lands " So often conquer'd by the bands " Of our Imperial Chief 1 " Soon shall our Legions overwhelm " These mean Invaders of our realm, " And make their boasting brief !" XXVII. So broke they forth ; from man to man The secret inspiration ran, Plunder display'd her golden mien, Glory look'd up a nymph serene, And, charm'd with all the prospect fair, Display'd her streaming pennons there, Until, with acclamations riven, Recoil'd the triple heights of heaven, And ev'ry voice exclaim'd again, " Now lead us, Sire ! towards the main ; " We burn to drown our swords in gore, " To tame the rebel world once more — " To reach those fields we lost of late, " And triumph over Europe's hate." They said, and swift he led them down Towards the moonlight main; While boasting Gallia's iron crown Seem'd, in its wonted pride, to frown O'er his aspiring brain.