"It is difficult to conceive a plot more perfect than that of the 'Wellingtoniad.' It is most faithful to the manners of the age to which it relates.It preserves exactly all the historical circumstances, and interweaves them most artfully with all the speciosa miracula of supernatural agency."Thus far the learned Professor of Humanity in the university of Tombuctoo.I fear that the critics of our time will form an opinion diametrically opposite as to these every points.Some will, I fear, be disgusted by the machinery, which is derived from the mythology of ancient Greece.I can only say that, in the twenty-ninth century, that machinery will be universally in use among poets; and that Quongti will use it, partly in conformity with the general practice, and partly from a veneration, perhaps excessive, for the great remains of classical antiquity, which will then, as now, be assiduously read by every man of education; though Tom Moore's songs will be forgotten, and only three copies of Lord Byron's works will exist: one in the possession of King George the Nineteenth, one in the Duke of Carrington's collection, and one in the library of the British Museum.Finally, should any good people be concerned to hear that Pagan fictions will so long retain their influence over literature, let them reflect that, as the Bishop of St David's says, in his "Proofs of the Inspiration of the Sibylline Verses,"read at the last meeting of the Royal Society of Literature, "at all events, a Pagan is not a Papist."Some readers of the present day may think that Quongti is by no means entitled to the compliments which his Negro critic pays him on his adherence to the historical circumstances of the time in which he has chosen his subject; that, where he introduces any trait of our manners, it is in the wrong place, and that he confounds the customs of our age with those of much more remote periods.I can only say that the charge is infinitely more applicable to Homer, Virgil, and Tasso.If, therefore, the reader should detect, in the following abstract of the plot, any little deviation from strict historical accuracy, let him reflect, for a moment, whether Agamemnon would not have found as much to censure in the Iliad,--Dido in the Aeneid,--or Godfrey in the Jerusalem.Let him not suffer his opinions to depend on circumstances which cannot possibly affect the truth or falsehood of the representation.If it be impossible for a single man to kill hundreds in battle, the impossibility is not diminished by distance of time.If it be as certain that Rinaldo never disenchanted a forest in Palestine as it is that the Duke of Wellington never disenchanted the forest of Soignies, can we, as rational men, tolerate the one story and ridicule the other? Of this, at least, I am certain, that whatever excuse we have for admiring the plots of those famous poems our children will have for extolling that of the "Wellingtoniad."I shall proceed to give a sketch of the narrative.The subject is "The Reign of the Hundred Days."BOOK I.
The poem commences, in form, with a solemn proposition of the subject.Then the muse is invoked to give the poet accurate information as to the causes of so terrible a commotion.The answer to this question, being, it is to be supposed, the joint production of the poet and the muse, ascribes the event to circumstances which have hitherto eluded all the research of political writers, namely, the influence of the god Mars, who, we are told, had some forty years before usurped the conjugal rights of old Carlo Buonaparte, and given birth to Napoleon.By his incitement it was that the emperor with his devoted companions was now on the sea, returning to his ancient dominions.The gods were at present, fortunately for the adventurer, feasting with the Ethiopians, whose entertainments, according to the ancient custom described by Homer, they annually attended, with the same sort of condescending gluttony which now carries the cabinet to Guildhall on the 9th of November.Neptune was, in consequence, absent, and unable to prevent the enemy of his favourite island from crossing his element.Boreas, however, who had his abode on the banks of the Russian ocean, and who, like Thetis in the Iliad, was not of sufficient quality to have an invitation to Ethiopia, resolves to destroy the armament which brings war and danger to his beloved Alexander.He accordingly raises a storm which is most powerfully described.Napoleon bewails the inglorious fate for which he seems to be reserved."Oh! thrice happy," says he, "those who were frozen to death at Krasnoi, or slaughtered at Leipsic.Oh, Kutusoff, bravest of the Russians, wherefore was I not permitted to fall by thy victorious sword?"He then offers a prayer to Aeolus, and vows to him a sacrifice of a black ram.In consequence, the god recalls his turbulent subject; the sea is calmed; and the ship anchors in the port of Frejus.Napoleon and Bertrand, who is always called the faithful Bertrand, land to explore the country; Mars meets them disguised as a lancer of the guard, wearing the cross of the legion of honour.He advises them to apply for necessaries of all kinds to the governor, shows them the way, and disappears with a strong smell of gunpowder.Napoleon makes a pathetic speech, and enters the governor's house.Here he sees hanging up a fine print of the battle of Austerlitz, himself in the foreground giving his orders.This puts him in high spirits; he advances and salutes the governor, who receives him most loyally, gives him an entertainment, and, according to the usage of all epic hosts, insists after dinner on a full narration of all that has happened to him since the battle of Leipsic.
BOOK II.
Napoleon carries his narrative from the battle of Leipsic to his abdication.But, as we shall have a great quantity of fighting on our hands, I think it best to omit the details.
BOOK III.
