Without entering into the history of this war, which is neither practicable, nor requisite, on the present occasion, it may be briefly remarked—that Championet, the French general, is well known to have informed the Directory at Paris that, by means of a correspondence with the disaffected party, he should be master of Naples by the time they received the news of the capitulation of Capua—that this treachery soon becoming suspected by the Lazzaroni, who were in the royal interest, they seized all the arms; parading the streets, and vociferating the names of the king and their tutelary St. Januarius—that General Mack was regarded as a traitor; and the remains of the army which he had commanded were considered as jacobins whom French gold had corrupted—that Mack, not very unfavourably to the suspicions of the Lazzaroni, fled from them to Championet, who gave him a passport and escort to Milan; where, however, with true French protection, he was seized as a prisoner of war, by order of the Directory—that the Neapolitan army, equally terrified with their general at the menaces of the numerous Lazzaroni, deserted, to that of the French, and was in two days quite disorganized and annihilated—that the Lazzaroni, urged to fury by the escape of their prey, attacked and drove in the advanced posts of the French, and penetrated even to the line—that Prince Molliterno, who had been chosen their general, did not escape their menaces, when they found that he was entering into a negociation with Championet—that they now every where plundered and massacred the objects of their suspicions, however well or ill founded—that Prince Molliterno, and his friends, seizing on the forts, called the French to their assistance—and that, after numerous severe struggles, in which vast numbers of the French, as well as of the Lazzaroni, were slain, the latter were only finally subdued by stratagem.
In the momentary cessations from mutual slaughter, Championet offered his protection to several of the terrified inhabitants. He professed a most profound veneration for St. Januarius; and gravely invoked the all-powerful saint, for the preservation of human lives, and the restoration of peace, in the suffering city of Naples. A French guard of honour was stationed at the church of the tutelary apostle: and "Respect for Januarius," adopted as the consign of their army. The report of such sincere devotion to their favourite saint, flew with the celerity of lightning along the ranks of the Lazzaroni. "Vivent les Français!—Vive la republique!"—"Long live the French!—Long live the republic!"—soon followed, in thundering applauses, through the lines. In short, without pursuing the various scenes of the wretched farce by which these miserable devotees of superstition were betrayed into an opinion that Championet possessed nearly as much sanctity as St. Januarius himself, and was scarcely less entitled to the adoration which many of the simple souls were now weak enough to pay him; the shouts of admiration, and of joy, universally succeeded to the shrieks of anguish, and the fearful cries of desperation; the contest was immediately brought to a close, and peace everywhere loudly proclaimed. Wonders were not wanting on the occasion—The blood of St. Januarius miraculously flowed this very evening, at the intercession of the venerable archbishop, and his pious clergy; whose devotion to the saint, appears to have far surpassed their loyalty to their sovereign: and, though a fiery eruption of Mount Vesuvius, which had been tranquil for the preceding five years, was actually seen to burst forth on the very day, the 24th of January 1799, even that ancient proof of the anger of the saint was, in the madness of the moment, considered as an additional token of his holiness's approbation! Such is the inconsistency of untutored folly, and the fate of misinstructed superstition; the power of superior cunning, and the effect of unprincipled deceit.
The concern of the good King and Queen of Naples, at the calamitous effects of these successful stratagems on the deluded people, could not fail to be excessive; and that of our indignant hero, and his estimable friends, were little inferior. The despicable frauds, by which the miserable vulgar had been ensnared, were to them abundantly manifest; but they well knew that, had they even been present, and assured the credulous creatures, that the liquification of St. Januarius's blood, and even the blaze of Mount Vesuvius—which was unaccompanied by any natural overflow of the lava—were both easily effected by a simple chemical process, and a few kindled faggots and barrels of gunpowder thrown into the crater, they would most probably have been instantly massacred for what the priests must have necessarily pronounced, for their own safety, the most blasphemous of all possible impieties.
In writing, on the 28th of January, to the Honourable Mr. Windham, at Leghorn, Lord Nelson thus foretells the fate of Tuscany, and of all the Emperor of Germany's Italian dominions. "Alas!" says his lordship, "the fancied neutrality of Tuscany will be it's downfall. You see it, and it cannot fail soon to happen. Tuscany does not, or cannot, support it's neutrality for us or Naples; only to protect the French, is this name prostituted. Seratti, who is a man of sound sense, must see it. When the emperor loses Tuscany and Naples—which, I am bold to say, the conduct of his ministry conduces to do more than the arms of the French—his newly-acquired dominions will not keep to him. Active, not passive; actions, are the only weapons to meet these scoundrels with. We can, as your excellency knows, have no desire to distress the Grand Duke by our conduct; on the contrary, it is our duty to support his royal highness against the tyranny of the French. Your excellency will be so good as to say, for me, to his royal highness, that an English ship of war shall, as long as he pleases, remain at Leghorn, ready to receive his person and family; for, unless the emperor acts speedily, the British flag will be his only security. Tuscany has the choice, to act like men, and take the chance of war; or, in a few weeks, to become another conquest of the French, and to form a new republic." Speaking of Naples, he, says—"We have heard nothing since the 19th; and, from those accounts, it is difficult to say, what turn the mob will take; at that time, they were certainly loyal. The nobility, to a man, Jacobins. Mack has disappeared, and no one knows the route he has taken." Such, it appears, was the uncertainty of the royal family of Naples, with regard to it's fate, on the 28th, at Palermo; though, in reality, it had then been already determined.
In fact, on the 25th, the following curious advertisement, for a grand Te Deum, in consequence of this desirable event, was actually published at Naples; and the archbishop, with the rest of the clergy, solemnly assured the people, that great faith, and extraordinary prayers, had induced their saint to testify his entire approbation of the measure.
"All the faithful citizens of Naples are invited to be present this day, (Friday, the 25th of January 1799,) at two in the afternoon, at the celebration of Te Deum; which the archbishop, accompanied by the chapter, the clergy, the general in chief and staff of the army of Naples, will sing in the cathedral church, to thank the Most High for the glorious entry of the French troops into this city; and who, protected in a peculiar manner by Providence, have regenerated this people, and are come to establish and consolidate our happiness. St. Januarius, our protector, rejoices in their arrival. His blood miraculously liquified on the very evening of the entry of the republican troops."
Lord Nelson, in the letter last mentioned, thus speaks of the state of Sicily—"As to this island, I cannot take upon me to say much: that they all hate the French, is certain; but, still, they feel themselves an oppressed people. On the 20th, at Augusta, a French vessel, with a hundred and forty officers and soldiers, arrived from Egypt. The boat people, and those of the town, attacked them. Eighty-seven were killed; the remainder escaped on board a Neapolitan frigate, who protected them. Sir William and Lady Hamilton, and I may add myself, are all unwell. The great queen is far from well. The king is the best of the party. As the queen is very anxious to hear of the fate of Tuscany, I shall direct Captain Louis—who, I was sure, your excellency would like—to send either Terpsichore, or this brig, back to Palermo."
In a letter of the same date to Captain now Admiral Louis, his lordship says, observing that all in the house had been ill, and were still far from well—"The air of Palermo is very bad, in my opinion." His confidence in Captain Louis, as well as in Mr. Windham, is thus strongly expressed—"You will, I am sure, my dear Sir, act in that way, which will always meet my wishes and do credit to our country. Whenever Mr. Windham tells you, that his Royal Highness the Grand Duke his no occasion for his majesty's ships, I shall be very glad to see you here; but consult with Mr. Windham, and you cannot err."
On the last day of January, Lord Nelson received, from England, official communications of the votes which had been passed by the House of Peers, the House of Commons, and the Irish House of Commons, conveying their thanks, by their respective speakers, to his lordship, his officers, and men, who fought in the battle off the Nile; which he instantly acknowledged, by most respectful answers to Lord Loughborough, the Right Honourable Henry Addington, and the Honourable John Foster.
On the same day, he also received letters from the Lord Mayor of London, the Clerk of the Drapers Company, and the Mayor of Liverpool; to which he immediately wrote, respectively, the following answers.