In both lands warlike ardour rose to the highest pitch. French towns and Departments freely offered gifts of gunboats and battleships. And in England public men vied with one another in their eagerness to equip and maintain volunteer regiments. Wordsworth, who had formerly sung the praises of the French Revolution, thus voiced the national defiance:
"No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;
We all are with you now from shore to shore;
Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death."
In one respect England enjoyed a notable advantage. Having declared war before Napoleon's plans were matured, she held the command of the seas, even against the naval resources of France, Holland, and North Italy. The first months of the war witnessed the surrender of St. Lucia and Tobago to our fleets; and before the close of the year Berbice, Demerara, Essequibo, together with [pg.440] nearly the whole of the French St. Domingo force, had capitulated to the Union Jack. Our naval supremacy in the Channel now told with full effect. Frigates were ever on the watch in the Straits to chase any French vessels that left port. But our chief efforts were to blockade the enemy's ships. Despite constant ill-health and frequent gales, Nelson clung to Toulon. Admiral Cornwallis cruised off Brest with a fleet generally exceeding fifteen sail of the line and several smaller vessels: six frigates and smaller craft protected the coast of Ireland; six line-of-battle ships and twenty-three lesser vessels were kept in the Downs under Lord Keith as a central reserve force, to which the news of all events transpiring on the enemy's coast was speedily conveyed by despatch boats; the newly invented semaphore telegraphs were also systematically used between the Isle of Wight and Deal to convey news along the coast and to London. Martello towers were erected along the coast from Harwich to Pevensey Bay, at the points where a landing was easy. Numerous inventors also came forward with plans for destroying the French flotilla, but none was found to be serviceable except the rockets of Colonel Congreve, which inflicted some damage at Boulogne and elsewhere. Such were the dispositions of our chief naval forces: they comprised 469 ships of war, and over 700 armed boats, of all sizes.[[273]]
Our regular troops and militia mustered 180,000 strong; while the volunteers, including 120,000 men armed with pikes or similar weapons, numbered 410,000. Of course little could be hoped from these last in a conflict with French veterans; and even the regulars, in the absence of any great generals—for Wellesley was then in India—might have offered but a poor resistance to Napoleon's military machine. Preparations were, however, made for a desperate resistance. Plans were quietly framed for the transfer of the Queen and the royal family[pg.441] to Worcester, along with the public treasure, which was to be lodged in the cathedral; while the artillery and stores from Woolwich arsenal were to be conveyed into the Midlands by the Grand Junction Canal.[[274]]
The scheme of coast-defence which General Dundas had drawn up in 1796 was now again set in action. It included, not only the disposition of the armed forces, but plans for the systematic removal of all provisions, stores, animals, and fodder from the districts threatened by the invader; and it is clear that the country was far better prepared than French writers have been willing to admit. Indeed, so great was the expense of these defensive preparations that, when Nelson's return from the West Indies disconcerted the enemy's plans, Fox merged the statesman in the partisan by the curious assertion that the invasion scare had been got up by the Pitt Ministry for party purposes.[[275]] Few persons shared that opinion. The nation was animated by a patriotism such as had never yet stirred the sluggish veins of Georgian England. The Jacobinism, which Dundas in 1796 had lamented as paralyzing the nation's energy, had wholly vanished; and the fatality which dogged the steps of Napoleon was already discernible. The mingled hatred and fear which he inspired outside France was beginning to solidify the national resistance: after uniting rich and poor, English and Scots in a firm phalanx in the United Kingdom, the national principle was in turn to vivify Spain, Russia, and Germany, and thus to assure his overthrow.
Reserving for consideration in another chapter the later developments of the naval war, it will be convenient now to turn to important events in the history of the Bonaparte family.
The loves and intrigues of the Bonapartes have furnished material enough to fill several volumes devoted to light gossip, and naturally so. Given an ambitious family, styled parvenus by the ungenerous, shooting aloft[pg.442] swiftly as the flames of Vesuvius, ardent as its inner fires, and stubborn as its hardened lava—given also an imperious brother determined to marry his younger brothers and sisters, not as they willed, but as he willed—and it is clear that materials are at hand sufficient to make the fortunes of a dozen comediettas.
To the marriage of Pauline Bonaparte only the briefest reference need here be made. The wild humour of her blood showed itself before her first marriage; and after the death of her husband, General Leclerc, in San Domingo, she privately espoused Prince Borghese before the legal time of mourning had expired, an indiscretion which much annoyed Napoleon (August, 1803). Ultimately this brilliant, frivolous creature resided in the splendid mansion which now forms the British embassy in Paris. The case of Louis Bonaparte was somewhat different. Nurtured as he had been in his early years by Napoleon, he had rewarded him by contracting a dutiful match with Hortense Beauharnais (January, 1802); but that union was to be marred by a grotesquely horrible jealousy which the young husband soon conceived for his powerful brother.