But Napoleon, dancing with rage, on the other side, yells out, ‘You Rascal you! How dare you break down my Bridge, If I knew how to get over, this invincible arm should make you repent your rashness.’ In the background an officer calls out to the army, ‘Invincible Army go back, the bridge is broke down and we should not be able to run away.’
It was in this retreat that Lannes was killed—but it was avenged at Wagram, a battle that so crippled the Austrians that they had to ask an armistice, which afterwards led to a peace between the rival nations.
It seems he wanted satisfaction,
So Wagram was the scene of action.
By some, however, ’tis believ’d,
The Emp’ror Francis was deceiv’d,
That Boney had, in his caprice,
Made secret overtures for peace,
And a connubial match propos’d
With which the Cabinet had clos’d;
They having been assured, that by it
They should be peaceable and quiet.
And that great Bonaparte might seem
A victor worthy of esteem,
Unknown to Francis they acceded,
To such a battle as he needed;
So that the battle of Wagram,
They say was nothing but a sham—
In other words,—tho’ low, but certain,
‘’Twas all my eye and Betty Martin.’
But if a sham, as it is said,
The farce was admirably played,
For twenty thousand men each lost,
So that they acted to their cost;
But, be ’t a real one, or a mock,
They fought both days till six o’clock;
Nap to the vict’ry laid claim,
And saved the credit of his name.
Hostilities began to cease,
It seems both parties thought of peace.
Sauler (August 1809) shews us ‘The rising Sun, or a view of the Continent.’ This rising sun is inscribed ‘Spain and Portugal,’ and gives great uneasiness to Napoleon, who says, ‘The rising sun has set me upon thorns.’ He is employed in rocking a cradle, in which peacefully reposes a Russian bear, muzzled with ‘Boney’s Promises.’ Behind is Sweden, who brandishes his sword, calling to Russia to ‘Awake thou Sluggard, ere the fatal blow is struck, and thou and thy execrable ally sink into eternal oblivion.’ Holland is fast asleep, and leans against Napoleon. Poland is represented by a shadow, and Denmark wears a huge extinguisher on his head. Turkey is virtually dead, on the ground; but Austria is springing into activity, exclaiming, ‘Tyrant, I defy thee and thy Cursed Crew.’ Prussia is depicted as a lunatic, with straws in his hair, wearing a strait-waistcoat, and, with a very vacuous expression of countenance, is singing, ‘Fiddle diddle dee, Fiddle diddle dee, The Mouse has married the humble bee—and I am Emperor of the Moon.’ Underneath are the following lines:—
Just as the Rising Sun dispels
The gloom of night to bless us with new day,
So genuine Patriotism expels
Vindictive Tyrants from despotic Sway.
Thus Spain, the source of patriotic worth
(A Rising Sun of Freedom to the Earth),
Invites the Captive Nations to forego
The Yoke and crush their sanguinary foe.
Why then, ye Nations, will ye not embrace
The proffer’d Freedom smiling in your face?
Why dilly-dally when to sink or rise
Rests with yourselves—dare ye contemn the prize—
Is Freedom nothing worth, that for her sake
Ye dare not e’en one gen’rous effort make?
Alas! infatuated Monarchs see,
What is, and what your Fate must ever be.
Spain is a Sun arising to illume
The threefold horrors of your future doom,
While she on Freedom’s golden wings shall tow’r,
The Arbitress of Continental pow’r.
Russia’s a Bear amid impending woes,
Rock’d by th’ insidious Tyrant to repose.
Sweden’s a Warrior of distinguished worth,
Sweden hath giv’n to many heroes birth.
Austria’s a Phœnix rising renovated,
Whose genial warmth with Spain, incorporated,
Longer disdains to crouch at the fell shrines
Of Usurpation, and the foulest crimes.
Prussia, poor Prussia, with straightjacket on,
And Crown of Straw, proves what delays have done.
Denmark too, half extinguish’d, shows,
The fruits of leaguing with old England’s foes.
And Holland, drowsy Holland, dreams
Of aggrandizement, potent Kings and Queens.
While Poland, a mere shadow in the rear
(As proof of something once existent there),
Yields to the Yoke, nor dares its shackles break,
Lest by so doing, she her Freedom stake.
Poor silly mortals, will ye ever bow
To the dread Shrine of Tyranny and Woe;
Or by co-operation overwhelm
The Scourge of Nations, and resume the Helm?
One of the great events of this year, as regards Napoleon, was his divorce from Josephine. That he loved her, as far as he could love any woman, there is no doubt; but there were State reasons why he should have another consort. His ambition could not be satisfied till he had an heir male of his own. The dynasty he fondly hoped to found ought not to descend to any of his brothers; and none but his own son could have any hold upon the affection of the French nation.