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Northern Star (1837-1852), 28th August 1852, Edition 1 of 2, Page 13, Untitled Article

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      Untitled Article

      REVIEWS . Napoleon le Petit , Par Victor Hugo . London : Jeffs . Our readers will remember that a few weeks ago our Paris correspondent gave an account of the execution of a republican named Charlet , at Belley . This brutal assassination was not even alluded to by any of the English papers .

      Anti-Bonapartist as the . Times and our other daily journals may be , so long as the bandit keeps his hands out of the pockets of the traders , and meddles not with any members of the monarchical factions , the very "liberal" English journalists care not a stray how many republicans are butchered . Victor Hugo has the following account of Charlet ' s execution which will no doubt be interesting to our readers : '

      THE MARTYItDOM OF CHARLET . A man of Bugey , near Belley , a workman named Charlet had ardently sustained on the 10 th of December , 1848 the Candidature of Louis Bonaparte . He had distributed propagated , and hawked about his bulletins , for him the elec tionwas a triumph ; he had faith in Louis Napoleon takin g lot serious the socialist writings of the man of Ham and his " lmmamtanan" and republican programmes ; at the 10 th of December there were many such honest dunes who are now the most indignant . When Louis Nanoleon ™«

      in power , when the man was seen at the work , the illusions vanished . Ciiarlet , a man of intelligence , was one of those whose republican probity revolted , and little by little , as Louis Napoleon gave rar before the reaction , Charlet detached himseli from him ; thus passing from the most confidant adhesion to the opposition the most loyal and determined . That is the history of many other noble hearts . On the 2 nd of December Charlet did not hesitate . In the presence of all the united attempts in the infamous act of Louis Bonaparte , Charlet felt the law stir within him ; he said to himself that he oua-ht to

      he so much the more severe that he had been one of ^ those whose confidence had been the most betrayed . He understood clearly that there was no longer but one duty for the citizen a straight duty , and one which was confounded with right ' to defend the Republic , to defend the Constitution , and by every means to resist the man whom the left , and his crime still more than the left , had outlawed . Tne refugees in Switzerland passed the frontier in arms , traversed the Rhone near Andefort and entered the department of the Am . Charlet joined them ! At Seyssel the little troop encountered some customs officers

      These officers , terrified or willing accomplices of the coup d ' etat , wished to oppose . An engagement took place , when one of the customs officers was killed , and Charlet captured . The coup d'etat prosecuted Charlet before a council of war . He was accused of having caused the death of the officer , which , after all , was only an incident of war . At any rate , Charlet could have nothing to do with his death ; the man had fallen pierced with a ball , and Charlet had no other arms than a sharpened file . Charlet did not recognise as a tribunal the group of men who pretended to judge him . He said to them : ' You are not

      judges ; where is the law ? " He refused to answer them . Interrogated on the death of the officer , he could have made everything clear in a moment , but to descend to an explanation was , to a certain degree , to accept the tribunal . Not wishing to do this , he kept silence . These men condemned . him to death , " according to the ordinary form of criminal executions . " His condemnation pronounced , Charlet seemed to be forgotten . On

      every side , in the prison , it was said to Charlet : "You are saved . " On the 29 th of June , at break of day , a melancholy spectacle was beheld in the town of Belley . During the night the scaffold had arisen from the earth , and stood prepared in the middle of the market place . The inhabitants , pale and anxious , asked each other : " Have you seen what is in the place ? " " Yes . " "For whom ? " It was for Charlet . The

      sentence ot death had been submitted to M . Bonaparte ; it had long lain forgotten at the Elysee , where other matters had to he attended to ; but one fine morning , seven months after , when no one any longer thought of the engagement at Seyssel , nor the officer killed , nor of Charlet , M . Bonaparte , needing probably to put something between the ftfe of the 10 th of May and that of the 15 th of August , signed the order for his execution . On the 29 th of June , a few days after , Charlet was brought from his pr ison . He was told that ha was about to die . He remained perfectly calni . The man who is with justice , fears not death , for he feels that he has within him two

      things , the one , his body , which may be killed , the other , justice , whose arms may not be tied , and whose head falls not " beneath the axe . Charlet was desired to mount upon a carr . " No , " said Charlet , " I will go on foot , I can walk , I have no fear . " The crowd was great along the route he had to take . ' Everybody in the town knew him , and loved him ; his friends sought his looks . Charlet , his arms listened behind his back , nodded to the right and to the left . t ; Adieu , Jacques ; adieu , Pierre , " saidhe , with a smile . " Adieu , Ciiarlet , " replied they , and all wept . The gendarmerie and the troops of the line surrounded

      the scaffold , on which he mounted with a slow , firm step . When he was seen upright on the scaffold , the crowd shuddered ; the women screamed fearfully , and the men doubled their fists . "While he was being buckled to the basket , he looked at the axe of the guillotine , and said : " When I think that I have been a B onapartist ! " then , raising his eyes to heaven , he cried : " Vive Id BepvibUque ! " A moment ' afterwards his head fell . There was a general mourning in Belley , and in all the villages of the Ain . "How did he die ? " it was asked ; " Bravery . " " God be praised . "

      There is no more dangerous doctrine than that which teaches a people that it has the right to absolve a crime , that it is in its power to grant absolution for a breach of public morality . Such teaching is calculated to sap the foundations of a nation ' s virtue , and to hurry it into the path of dishonour and crime . No nation has such a right ; no nation has such power . It may approve , and thereby share in the crime ; but

      this would make it no less criminal . The men of the coup & eiat have repeatedly said that that monstrous crime has keen absolved by 7 , 500 , 000 votes on the 20 th and 21 st of December . Such was not the case . Had these votes really keen obtained , which no reasonable man can believe , the perjury and assassinations of Bonaparte Avould still have been as criminal , as hideous , and as hateful as before . Victor Hugo "well puts the case thus : —

      " absolution" op the cmmixal . A brigand stops a dilligence at the comer of a wood . He is at the head of a determined band . The travellers are more numerous , but they are separated , disunited , placed in compartments , half asleep , surprised in the midst of the night , suddenly

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      seized , and without arms . The brigand orders them to descend , not to utter a single evy , to breathe not a single word , and to br , ^ n ? Wlth ? ? aCes in tlie dust He blows out the th !?» * 10 reS 1 St ' Others Obe ^ * W he down upon and K * Y T ^ inot ion 1 less ; ten < ified , pel mel with the dead have Sf f V de ^ ' / rl I e kigand ' While llis ^ eomplices vfoHml , ? he backs and Plstols at the *>« # » of the take ? nii \ T - T ^^ breaks ° P theil < boxes , and S ± 5 JfcL ? J aluable ^^ ? M Poct orts empty the tap illageMlie finish to

      „¦»*« , ^ ^ mofW tw ' rail § ; ^ jUSti ce ' have m > it * » on a piece anneTw ? y ° u ack ( ; ^ ge that all 1 U have taken from you ff " ° ' ? that ? concede t 0 rac of Jour own ito I i A P \ ? f at w , il 1 be ymr ophliou - v ™ wil 1 hQ ut vSiout * ! ° f GaCh , ° y ° ' . ' Without 8 P ^ ing a word , S olT ^ f IT ?\ ! ut quittln * P resent attitude , you wil all extend the right hand and sign this paper . If any ' one moves or speaks , look at the barrel of my pistol . For thi rest sign , ihis done , the brigand raises his head and says : " I have seven millions five hundred thousand votes . "

      In all probability , Louis Bonaparte is ambitious ; he desires Lf f wW llistory ' amon ^ s ™* * ° VfcffHn Jlv " % UVC ^ " ^ *™*" LOUIS BONAPAKTE ' S PLACE IN IUSTOKY . tlPLifS ^ V ^ y holds him - Foi > th e rest , if it flatters t ™ £ 'I n ° ^ . . ^ napaxte to have a place in history , and m l \ l mi ^! ev ? ' ° n his vaUmr as a l ) olUical scoundrel , a mental iUus , on it he deprives himself of it . Let him not foi ' thTw if ° ' beca f , he liaS llca l horr ° M W * honors , that he will ever rise to the height of the great historical bandits ! WX t

      -ITT •• , ... Q .... u .. « j i Will AHfOliUHUtU UclUUlLS . We have done wrong , perhaps , in some pages of this book , to liken him to these men . No , notwithstanding he has committed enormous crimes , he will always remain pitiful He will never be more than the nocturnal strangler of liberty ¦ he will never be more than the man who made the soldiers drunk , not with glory , like the first Napoleon , but with wine ; he will never be more than the pigmy tyrant of a great people . The despicable character of the individual will not suffer him to be

      great even m vice . Dictator , he is a buffoon ; if he make himself Emperor , he will be grotesque . To make mankind shrug their shoulders in his destiny . Will he be less roughly treated tor that ? Not at all . Contempt takes nothing from anger ; he will be hideous , and will remain ridiculous . History laughs and thunders . Great thinkers arc pleased to chasten great despots , and sometimes even exalt them a little , in order to make them worthy of their fury ; but what would you have the historian

      make of this personage ? The historian could only cany him to posterity , by the ear . The man once stripped ot success , the pedestal withdrawn , the ashes fallen , the tinsel and the glitter and the great sabre detached , the poor little skeleton stripped naked and shivering , can there be imagined anything more mean and pitiful ? History has her tigers . The historians , immortal guardians of ferocious animals , show to the nations that imperial menagerie . Tacitus alone has taken and « f c f j - , _^_ - „_ wv ** -.- » . * «^ ^ & hvkf VkV ¦ hv * l till A VL

      ^ shut up eight or ten of these tigers in the iron cages of his style . Look at them , they are frightful and superb ; their stains form part of their beauty . This one is Nimrod , the ranter of men ; this Busiris , the Egyptian tyrant ; this Phalans , who cooked living men in a brass bull , in order to make the bull bellow ; this Assuheras , who scalped seven Maccabees , and then had them roasted alive ; this is Nero , the burner o ( lvome , who covered the Christians with wax and pitch , and set them on fire as fnmiip . s this TiWino + i , ,-., o « ana sec them on hre as torches this Tiberiusthe man

      ; , of Caprea , this . Caracalla , this Heilogabalus , that other is Commodius who has the greater merit in horror that he was the son of Marcus Aurelius ; those are Czars —these bultans ; these are Popes—remark amongst them the tiger Borgia ; see Phillip , styled the Good , as the Furies were called Eumenides ; see Richard III ., sinister and deformed ; see , with his large face and enormous paunch , Homy VIII ., who . out of five wives that he had , killed three , one of whom he

      embowelled ; see Christian II ., the Nero of the North , see Phillip II ., the demon of the South . They are fearful—hear them bellow—consider them one after the other ; the historian brings tiiem to you—the historian drags them , furious and terrible , to the side of the cage—he opens their mouths—lets you see their teeth—shows you their claws ; you may say of each of them"That is a royal tiger ; " in fact they have been captured on all the thrones ; history leads them across the ages ; she takes care that they do not die ; they are tigers ; she does not mix jackals with them ; she keeps apart the unclean beasts . M . Bonaparte

      will be with Claudius—with Ferdinand VII . of Spain—with Ferdinand II . of Naples—in the cage of Hyenas . This man is a little of the brigand and much of the knave . One always feels that he is the poor industrial prince who lived by expedients in England ; his actual prosperity , his triumph , his empire , and his puffing , are nothing , that purple mantle trails on shoes down at heel . Napoleon the Little—nothing more or less . The title of this book is good . The baseness of his vices cover the greatness of his crimes . "What would you ? Peter the Cruel

      massacred , but did not steal ; Henry III . assassinated , but did not swindle ; Timour trampled the children beneath the feet of horses , much as M . Bonaparte exterminated women and aged people on the Boulevards , but he did not lie . Hear the Arab historian— " Timour Bey Sahib Keran , master of the world and of the age , master of the planetary conjunctions , was born at ICesch in 1336 ; he butchered a hundred thousand captives ; as he laid seige to Siwas , the inhabitants , to move him , sent to him as thousand little children , each carrying a Koran on his head , and crying , " Allah ! Allah !» He caused the books to be removed

      with respect , and trampled the children under the feet of the horses ; he employed seventy thousand ' human heads , along with cement , stone , and bricks , to build towers at Herat , at Selzvar , at Tekrit , at Aleppo , and at Bagdad ; he detested lying ; when once lie had given his word he might be depended upon . " M . Bonaparte is not of this stature ; he has not the dignity which the great despots of the East and West mingle with their ferocity . To make a good countenance amongst all those

      illustrious executioners who have tortured humanity for four thousand years , it is not necessary to have a mind between a general of division and a trunk-maker of the Champs-Elysces ; it is not necessary to have been a London policeman , nor is it needful to have borne , with downcast eyes , before the whole court of peers , the haughty contempt of M . Magrian ; it is not necessary to have been called pick-pocket by the English journals ; it is not necessary to have been threatened with Clichy ; it is not necessary to be the basest of men . Monsieur

      Louis Bonaparte , you are ambitious , you look high , but it is very needful to tell you the truth . All ! well , what is it you would have us do ? you have done well in overthrowing the tribune of France , realizing , in your way , the wish of Caligula , " I would that the human race had but one head , that I might strike it off at a single blow ; " you have done well in banishing

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      the Republicans by millions , as Phillip III . expulsed the Moors , and Torquemada the Jews ; you did well to have casemates like Peter the Cruel , pontons like Hariadan , dragonades likeJj ather Lettellier , and death-dungeons like Ezzelin III . you did well to perjure yourself like Ludovico Sforce ; you did well to massacre and assassinate en mam like Charles IX . ; you did well to heave done all that to recall to mind all those names at the thought ot youvs , yet yon are but a sharper , and not n monster . l Here is a fine picture of the patient suffering , and patriotic devotions of the noble sons of Liberty in exile . —

      FJtANCB AXD HER EXILED CHILDREN . O country ! it is at this moment when we see thee bleedintr and inanimate thy head bent down , thy eyes closed , thy mouth open and speaking not , the marks of the lash upon thy shoulders the nails of thc feet of the executioners imprinted upon all thy bod y ^ like unto a dead thing , an object of hate and of mirth , alas ! it is at this hour , my country , that the heart of the exile overflows with love and respect ' for thee ! We behold thee motionless . The men of despotism and oppression laugh and relish the pndeful illusion that they may fear thee no more . The people who are in darkness forget the past , they see only the present , and scorn thee Pardon them , for they know not what they do ! Scorn thee ! Great God

      , scorn ranee ? And who are they ? What language do they speak ? What books have they in their hands ? What names do they know by heart ? What is the bill on the walls of their theatres ? What forms their arts , their laws , their morals , their dress their pleasures , their fashions ? What is the great date tor them , as for us , ' 89 ! If they take from Frauce their soul , what else have they left ? 0 peoples ! were she fallen , and fallen for ever , should we despise Greece ? Should we despise Italy j 1 Should we despise France ? Look upon those breasts , there you were nourished ! Look upon that womb , it is that of your mother ! If she sleep , if she be sunk in lethargy , silence , and have your heads ! If she be deadupon knees ! Thc

      , your exiles are scattered . Destiny has blasts which disperse men like a handful of ashes . Some are in Belgium , in Piedmont , m fewitaerlaml , where they have not Liberty ; the others ara in London where they have not a roof . This peasant has been torn from his natal soil ; this soldier has no longer any more than the handle of his sword , which has been broken in his hand ; this workman , ignorant of the language of the country , is without clothing and without shoes ; he knows not if he will have food to-morrow ; this man has quitted a wife and children

      , a well-beloved group , the objects of his labour , and the joy of his life ; this one has an old white-haired mother who weeps for him ; that one has an old father who will die without seeing him once more ; that other loved : he has left behind him some adored being who will forget him ; they raise their heads , they clasp each other ' s hands , they smile ; there is no people that would not look upon them with respect , and contemplate , with profound tenderness , as one of the most lovely spectacles which fate may give to men , all these

      serene consciences—all these broken hearts . They suffer they are silent ; in them the citizen has immolated the man ; they look fixedly upon adversity ; they do not even cry beneath the pitiless rod of misfortune : Civis Romania sum ! but in the evening when they are thoughtful—when all the stranger town is pensive and sad , for what seems cold in the day becomes funeral-like in the twilight-in the nio-ht when they sleep not , the most stoical minds give way to mourning , and are over-whelmed with grief . Where are the little children ? Who will give them bread ? Who will

      give them a father ' s kiss ? Where is the wife ? Where is the mother ? Where is the brother ? Where are they all ? And those songs they were wont to hear in the evening in their native tongue , where are they ? Where is the ^ vooa the arbour , the path-way , the roof filled with nests , the steeple surrounded b y tombs ? Where is the street , the faubourg the the reflected light before your door , thc friends , the workshop the trade , the accustomed labour ? And the furniture sold by public auctionwhich invades

      , the domestic sanctuary ! Oh ! what eternal adieus 1 Destroyed , dead , scattered to the winds that moral being which is called the family hearth , and which is not composed only of gossipings , of tenderness , and embraces , but which is also composed of hours and habits , of the visits of friends , of the laugh of one , and the shake of the hand of another , of the view which was had from such a window , of the place where was such and such a piece of furniture , of the elbow-chair where the grandfather used to sit , of the carpet where the first born have played ! Pillaged are all these

      objects on which your life was imprinted : Vanished the visible form of all your remembrances ! There are some intimate and obscure sorts of grief from which the proudest courage shrinks . Ihe Roman orator held his head to the knife of the Centurian Lcnas without turning pale ; but he wept at the thought of his house destroyed b y Clodius . The exiles are silent , or , if they complain , it is only amongst themselves As they know each other , and as they are doubly brothers , having the same country , and the same proscription , they tell each other their miseries . He who has money divides amongst those who have none , he who has firmness gives it to those who are in

      need ot it . Ihey exchange remembrances , aspirations , and hopes , i hey turn themselves , their arms extended in the darkness towards what they have left behind them . Oh ! may they be happy here below , those who think no more of us ! Each suffers ^ and is irritated at times . There is engraven on the memories of all the names of all the executioners . Each has something which he curses , Magas , the ponton , the casemate the denunciator and the spy who have betrayed him the gendarme who has arrested him , Lambessa where someone has a friend , Cayenne where some one has a brother ; but there is one thing which all of them bless , France , it is thee !

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      The Blithbdalb Romance . By Nathaniel Hawthorne . 2 vols . London : Chapman & Hall . Hatoiorije , thc American Novelist , is the friend of Lowe 1 , the Poet , and worthy of being placed side by side with him on the roll of Fame . Silentl y , slowly , but surely , has he won his widening way with the world , and built up ms brilliant and solid reputation . Though not so universally

      recognized , we look upon him as by far the first American novel-writer . He has a rich inheritance of genius . His writings arc full of poetry and reli gious earnestness . A peculiarly fresh and quiet stream of humour runs through them , sparkling over golden sands . He has walked and talked with Nature , in her mostlovcable and terrible moods and

      aspects , whether in close companionship with her in her cool green ways , or in learning from her the mysteries which are written on the red leaves of that marvellous book , the human heart . Few writers go so deep , or scrutinize the heart so fearlessly . What a weird and wondrous power there is in

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      ATOUst 28 , 1852 . THE gTAR Q F FREED 0 M _ ^ ~~ ~ :: : r : :::::: ^ ~ ¦ ¦¦ r-r- —

  • Citation
    • Northern Star (1837-1852), Aug. 28, 1852, page 13, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1693/page/13/