they are to hide their heads. I shall be there as soon as the news of my disembarkation.... Yes," the Emperor continued, after taking a few steps, "I have resolved.... It was I who gave the Bourbons to France, and it is I who must rid France of them.... I will set off.... The enterprise is vast, it is difficult, it is dangerous, but it is not beyond me. On great occasions fortune has never abandoned me.... I shall set off, but not alone; I won't run the risk of allowing myself to be collared by the gensdarmes. I will depart with my sword, my Polanders, my grenadiers ... all France is on my side. I belong to France; and for her I will sacrifice my repose, my blood, my life, with the greatest joy." After this speech, the Emperor stopped; his eyes sparkled with hope and genius: his attitude announced energy, confidence, victory; he was grand, he was beautiful, he was adorable!—he resumed his discourse, and said, "Do you think that they will dare to wait for me?"—"No, Sire."—"I don't think so, either: they will quake when they hear the thunder of my name; and they will know that they can only escape me by a speedy flight. But what will be the conduct of the national guards? Do you think they will fight for them?"—"I think, Sire, that the national guards will remain neutral."—"Even that's a great deal; as to their 'gardes du corps,' and their red regiments, I am not afraid of them: they are either old men or boys: they will be frightened by the mustachios of my grenadiers. I will make my grenadiers hoist the national flag;" lifting up his voice and his hand: "I will appeal to my old soldiers; I will speak to them. None of them will refuse to hear the voice of their old general.... It is certain that the soldiers cannot hesitate to choose between the white flag and the tricoloured flag; between me, by whom they have been covered with rewards and glory, and the Bourbons, who wish to dishonour them.... And the Marshals, what will they do?"—"The Marshals, who are full of money and titles, have nothing to wish for but repose. They would fear to compromise their existence by embracing a doubtful party; and perhaps they will continue merely spectators of the crisis. Perhaps even the fear lest your Majesty may possibly punish them for their defection or treason in 1814 may induce them to adhere to the king."—"I will punish no one. Do you take me rightly? Tell M. **** clearly, that I will forget every thing. We have all reason to reproach each other."—"Sire, I will tell him so with the greatest joy. This assurance will completely gain all opinions over to your side; because even amongst your partisans there are men who dread your return; lest you should revenge yourself."—"Yes, I know that it is thought that I am revengeful, and even sanguinary; that I am considered as a kind of ogre, as a man-eater. They are mistaken: I will make every one do his duty, and I will be obeyed; and that's all. A weak sovereign is a calamity to his subjects. If he allows criminals and traitors to fancy that he does not know how to punish, there is no longer any security either for the state or for individuals. More crimes are prevented than repressed by severity. A sovereign must govern by his head, and not by his heart. Yet, tell X*** that I except Talleyrand, Augereau, and the Duke of Ragusa, out of the general pardon. They caused all our misfortunes. The country must be revenged."—"But why exclude them, Sire? Is there not reason to fear that this exclusion may deprive you of the fruits of your clemency, and may even raise doubts as to your sincerity in future?"—"It would be much more exposed to doubt were I to pardon them."—"But, Sire...."—"Don't you trouble your head about it ... what is the strength of the army?"—"Sire, I do not know; I only know that it has been much weakened by desertion and by discharges, and that few of the regiments consist of more than three hundred men."—"So much the better; those who are good for nothing have probably left the army; the good soldiers will have remained. Do you know the names of the officers who command the maritime districts, and the eighth division?"—"No, Sire."—Napoleon (out of temper), "Why did not X*** give you that information?"—"Sire, both M. X*** and myself were far from supposing that your Majesty would immediately embrace the glorious resolution of re-appearing in France; besides which, he might believe, according to the common report, that your agents did not allow you to remain in ignorance of any circumstance which might interest you."—"I do know that the newspapers gave out that I had agents.... It is an idle story. It is true that I sent some of my people to France, in order to learn what was going on; but they stole my money, and only treated me with the gabble of the canaille. C**** has been to see me, but he knew nothing. You are the first person from whom I have ascertained the situation of France and the Bourbons under all its extensive bearings. Had it not been for you, I should never have known that the hour of my return had struck. Had it not been for you, they would have left me here to dig in my garden. I have received—I do not exactly know from what quarter—the description of certain assassins, hired against me; and one or two anonymous letters besides—all from the same hand, in which I was told to remain quiet, that the embroideries were coming into fashion, and other nonsense in the same style; but that's all. It is not upon such data that one is induced to attempt a crash. But how do you think foreigners will like my return: there is the great question?"—"Foreign nations, Sire, have been compelled to confederate against us in order to protect themselves; allow me to say it...."—"Speak out, speak out."—"In order to protect themselves against the effects of your ambition, and the abuse of your strength. Now that Europe has recovered her independence, and that France has ceased to be dangerous, foreign powers will probably be unwilling to run the risk of a new war, which may end by restoring to us that ascendancy which we have lost."—"If the allied sovereigns were at home in their capitals they would certainly consider the matter twice before they would take the field again; but they are yet face to face; and it is to be feared that war may become an affair of vanity. Do you think it is true that they are on ill terms with each other?"—"Yes, Sire, it appears that discord reigns in the congress; that each of the great powers wishes to seize the largest share of the booty."—"It appears, also, that their subjects are discontented: is it not so?"—"Yes, Sire; kings and people, every thing seems to unite in our favour. The Saxons, the Genoese, the Belgians, the inhabitants of the banks of the Rhine, the Polanders, all refuse the new sovereigns to whom they are to be given. Italy, tired of the avarice and the grossness of the Austrians, pants for the moment of withdrawing from their sovereignty. Experience has taught the King of Naples that you are his surest protector, and he will assist the rising of the Italians whenever you wish it. The princes of the confederation of the Rhine, warned by the example of Saxony, will become the allies of your majesty after the first victory. Prussia and Russia will sit quiet, if you will only allow them to retain their new acquisitions. The Emperor of Austria, who has every thing to fear from Russia and Prussia, and nothing to hope for from the King of France, will easily consent, if you only guarantee Italy to him, to allow you to do what you think best with the Bourbons. In short, all the powers of Europe, England only excepted, are more or less interested in not declaring themselves against you; and before England can have corrupted, or raised the continent, your Majesty will be so firmly fixed on the throne, that your Majesty's enemies may try in vain to make you totter."

Napoleon (shaking his head), "All this is very fine; ... however, I consider it as certain, that the Kings who have fought against me are no longer guided by the same unity, the same views, the same interests. The Emperor Alexander must esteem me: he must be able to estimate the difference which exists between Louis XVIII. and myself. If he were to understand his policy rightly, he would rather see the French sceptre in the hands of a powerful sovereign, the relentless enemy of England, than in the hands of a weak sovereign, the friend and vassal of the Prince Regent. I would give him Poland, and a great deal more, if he wished it: he knows that I have been always more inclined to tolerate his ambition than to restrain it. If he had continued my friend and my ally, I would have made him greater than he ever will be now. Prussia, and the petty Kings of the Rhenish confederation, will follow the lot cast by Russia. If I had Russia on my side, she would secure me all the second-rate powers. As to the Austrians, I do not know what they would do: they have never treated me candidly. I suppose I could keep Austria in order by threatening to deprive her of Italy. Italy is yet very grateful to me, and much attached to me: if I were to ask that country for an hundred thousand men, and an hundred millions, I should have the men and the money. If they were to force me to make war, I could easily revolutionize the Italians; I would grant them whatever they might wish, independence or Eugene. Mejean and some others have done him harm, but, in spite of that, he is warmly loved, and highly esteemed: he deserves to be so; he has shown that he possesses a noble mind. Murat is ours. I have had great reason to complain of him. Since I have been here, he has wept for his errors, and has done his utmost to repair the injuries which he has inflicted upon me. He has regained my friendship and my confidence: his assistance, if I were engaged in war, would be very useful to me. He has little brains; he has nothing but hand and heart; but his wife would direct him. The Neapolitans like him tolerably well; and I have yet some good officers amongst them who would keep them in the right way. As to England, we should have shaken hands from Dover to Calais, if Mr. Fox had lived; but as long as that country continues to be governed by the principles and passions of Mr. Pitt, we must always be as hostile as fire and water.... From England I expect no quarter, no truce.... England knows that the instant I place my foot in France, her influence will be driven back across the seas ... as long as I live I will wage a war of extermination against her maritime despotism. If the continental powers had seconded me; if they had not been afraid of me; if they had understood my ambition, their flags would have floated from the mast-head throughout the universe, and the world would have enjoyed peace. All things considered, foreign powers have great reasons to declare war against me; whilst there are also great reasons to induce them to remain at peace with me. It is to be feared, as I have already said to you, that they may turn the war into an affair of vanity, or that they make it a point of honour. On the other hand, it is possible that they may renounce their coalition, which has now no longer any object, in order to watch their subjects; preserving at the same time an armed neutrality, until I shall have given them sufficient guarantees.

"Their determinations, whatever they may be, will not influence mine. France speaks, and that is sufficient for me. In 1814 I had to deal with all the powers in Europe, but they should not have laid down the law to me if France had not left me to wrestle alone, against the entire world. Now the French know my value; and, as they have regained their courage and their patriotism, they will triumph over the enemies who may attack them, just as they triumphed in the good days of the revolution. Experience has shown that armies cannot always save a nation; but a nation defended by the people is always invincible.

"I have not settled the day of my departure: by deferring it I should have the advantage of allowing the Congress to run out; but then, on the other hand, I should run the risk of being kept here as a close prisoner by the vessels of the Bourbons and of the English, if, as every thing appears to indicate, there should be a rupture amongst foreign powers. Murat would lend me his navy if I wanted it; but if we do not succeed he would be compromised. We must not be anxious about all these matters: we must allow some room for destiny to come into play.

"I think we have considered all the points upon which it was important that I should be settled, and that we should understand each other. France is tired of the Bourbons; she demands her former sovereign. The people and the army are for us: foreign powers will be silent. If they speak, we shall be able to reply: this, in short, is the state of the present time and of the future.

"Depart. Tell X*** that you have seen me, and that I have determined to expose myself to every danger for the purpose of yielding to the prayers of France, and of ridding the nation of the Bourbons.... Say also that I shall leave this place with my guard, on the first of April—perhaps sooner. I pardon every thing. I will give to France and to Europe all the guarantees which can be expected or demanded of me. I have renounced all my plans of aggrandizement, and I wish to repair the evils which war has caused to us, by a permanent peace.

"You will also tell X*** and the rest of my friends to nourish and strengthen the good disposition of the people and the army by all possible means. Explain to X*** that if the excesses of the Bourbons should hasten their fall, if the French should drive them out before my disembarkation, then I will not allow of a regency, or any thing in the shape of it; but let them establish a provisional government, composed of ... of ... of ... of ... and of.... Go, Sir, I hope that we shall soon meet again."—"Sire, where shall I land?"—"You must proceed to Naples; here is a passport of the island, and a letter for ****. Pretend to place great trust in him, but do not trust him with any thing. You will give him a loose account of the French news; and you may tell him that I send you there to explore the soundings, and settle some concerns of moment. I have directed **** to furnish you with a passport, in order that you may be able to return to Paris without meeting with any obstacle or danger."—"Your Majesty has then determined to send me back to France?"—"It must absolutely be so."—"Your Majesty knows my attachment, and that I am ready to prove it in any way which may be required. But, Sire, deign to consider, both for your interest and for that of France, that my departure has been remarked, and that my return will excite still more notice, and that it may give rise to suspicion, and perhaps induce the Bourbons to put themselves on their guard, and cause them to watch the coasts and the island of Elba."—"Bah! do you suppose that fellows of the police know every thing, and can foresee every thing? More is invented than is discovered by the police. The agents of our police were decidedly as good as those of the present people, and yet they frequently knew nothing of what was going on but at the end of a week or a fortnight; and then they found it out only by chance, or incaution, or treason. I don't fear that any disclosures will be obtained from you by any of these means. You are clever and decided, and, if they were to work upon you, you would easily get clear. Besides, when you once arrive at Paris, don't show yourself; creep into a corner, and nobody will think of ferreting you out. I could certainly confide this mission to some of the people who are about me; but I do not wish to make any additional confidant: you are trusted by X***: I trust you; and, in one word, you are exactly the man whom I want. Your return is certainly exposed to objections, but they are as nothing when compared to its advantages. All that we have said about the Bourbons, and about France, and about myself, is mere talk, and talk won't overturn a throne. In order that my enterprise may not be rendered abortive, it must be seconded, and the patriots must prepare to attack the Bourbons on one side, whilst I shall occupy them on the other. And, above all, it is necessary that they should know that they may depend upon me; that they may know my sentiments, my views, and the resolution which I have made of submitting to every sacrifice, and exposing myself to every danger, for the purpose of saving the country."—The Emperor stopped to look at me. He certainly thought that I was one of those men who only appear reluctant to obey, in order to enhance the price of their services; so he said, "Money is always wanted in travelling; I will order them to pay you a thousand Louis, and then you may set off."—"A thousand Louis!" I exclaimed with indignation, "Sire, I must answer your Majesty in the words with which the soldier answered his general, 'These actions are not performed for pay.'"—"That's very right; I like to see pride."—"Sire, I am not proud, but I have a soul; and if I thought that your Majesty could believe that I embraced your Majesty's cause for the sake of filthy lucre, I should request your Majesty to cease to rely on my services."—"If I had believed that to be the case, I should not have trusted you. No person ever received a more honourable and splendid proof of my confidence, than that which I am now bestowing upon you, in deciding, merely on the strength of your word, to quit the isle of Elba, and in directing you, as my precursor, to announce my speedy arrival in France. But do not let us talk any more on that head; and tell me if you recollect fully all that I have told you."—"I have not lost one of your Majesty's expressions. They are all engraven on my memory."—"Then I have only to wish you a pleasant journey. I have directed that everything should be got ready for your departure.

"This evening, at nine o'clock, you will find a guide and horses at the gate of the town: you will be taken to Porto Longone. The commandant has been authorised to furnish you with the necessary quarantine documents. He knows nothing; say nothing to him. At midnight a felucca will leave the port, by which you will reach Naples. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings by offering money to you, but I thought you might be in want of it. Adieu, Monsieur; be cautious. I hope we shall soon meet again, and I shall acknowledge, in a manner worthy of your merits, your exertions in favour of the country and of myself."

Hardly had I gone down to the town, when he sent for me again. "I have considered," said he, "that it is desirable that I should know what regiments are stationed in the eighth and tenth military divisions, and the names of the commanding officers. You will take care to procure this information during your journey, and transmit it to me without the slightest delay. Write triplicates of your letters. Send one by way of Genoa, the second by Leghorn, and the third by Civita Vecchia. You will take care to write this name legibly, (here he gave me a memorandum containing the name of an inhabitant of the island). Fold your letters in a business-like way. In order that the secret of your correspondence may not be discovered, should any accident happen, you will put your intelligence in the shape of commercial transactions, and you will imitate the usual style of bankers. I will suppose, for example, that between Chambery and Lyon, going by the way of Grenoble, there are five regiments. You will write to me ... in my way I have seen the five merchants whom you mentioned; their views continue the same: your credit is increasing daily. The concern will turn out well ... do you understand me?"—"Yes, Sire; but how am I to send the names of the colonels and the generals in command?"—"Transpose the letters of their names, and nothing will be more easy. There is not a single colonel or general whom I do not know, and I shall soon be able to recompose their names."—"But, Sire, the anagrams which I shall make will perhaps be so uncouth, that it will be seen at the post-office, that the names are disguised on purpose."—"Do you think then, that they amuse themselves at the post-office by opening and reading all the letters of business which pass through? They could not get through them. I have attempted to unravel the correspondence carried on under the disguise of banking transactions, but I could never succeed. The post-office is like the police, only fools are caught; yet think of any other method: I shall have no objection."

After I had considered a little while, I said to the Emperor, "Sire, there is a method which perhaps will do. Your majesty has the imperial calendar."—"Yes, sure."—"Well, Sire, the calendar contains the lists of the general officers and colonels of the army. Now, I will suppose, for example, that the regiment quartered at Chambery is commanded by Colonel Paul. I look into the calendar, and I find that Paul stands forty-seven in the list of colonels. I will also suppose that, between ourselves, 'bill of exchange' means 'colonel' or 'general.' Then I shall write to your Majesty, I have seen your correspondent at Chambery; he has paid me the amount of your bill of exchange, No. 47. Your Majesty will turn to your Majesty's calendar, and then your Majesty will see, that the 47th colonel who commands the regiment of Chambery, is called 'Paul.' And, lastly, in order that your Majesty may be able to tell when I speak of a colonel, a general, or a marshal, I shall take care to indicate the rank of the officer by one, two, or three dots, placed after the 'No.' The colonel will have one dot, No. .; the general two, No. .., &c."—"Very good, very good. Here is a calendar for you. Bertrand has one which I will take."

The calendar given to me by the Emperor was richly bound, and stamped with the imperial arms. I tore off the binding. The Emperor kept walking up and down, and saying, as he laughed, "It is really excellent; they will never be able to see through it." When I had finished, he said, "One thought brings on another. I have asked myself how you would manage to write to me, if you should have any thing of unexpected importance to communicate. For instance, suppose any extraordinary event should make you think that my disembarkation ought to be accelerated or retarded; if the Bourbons were to be on their guard; in short, I know not what." He remained silent, and then began again. "I only know one way to provide for it: the confidence which I place in you ought to be unbounded. I will give you the key to a cipher which was composed for my use, in order that I might employ it in corresponding with my family under the most important circumstances. I need not tell you that you must keep it with care: always carry it about you, lest it should be lost: and if the smallest danger arises, burn it or tear it at the slightest suspicion. With this cipher you may write any thing to me which you like. I would rather that you should use it, than be under the necessity of coming back, or of sending any messenger to me. If they intercept a letter written in my cipher, it will take them three months to read it; whilst the capture of an agent might ruin all in an instant." He then went and looked out his cipher; he made me employ it under his eyes, and delivered it to me, exhorting me not to use it unless all other modes of communication should become insufficient.

The Emperor continued, "I do not suppose that you will have occasion to return here before my departure, unless the sudden overthrow of our projects should force you to seek an asylum here. In such a case, apprise me of your intended return, and I will send for you to any place which you may name. But we must hope that victory will declare for us. She loves France.... You have not spoken to me about the affair of Excelmans: if such a thing had happened in my time, I should have thought myself lost: when the authority of the master is not recognised, all is over. The more I think upon the matter (here he displayed a sudden emotion), the more I am convinced that France is mine, and that the patriots and the army will receive me with open arms."—"Yes, Sire, I swear to you, upon my soul, the people and the army will declare for you as soon as they hear your name, as soon as they see the caps of your grenadiers."—"Provided the people do seek to do themselves justice before my arrival, a popular revolution would alarm foreign powers: they would dread the contagion of example. They know that royalty only hangs by a thread, that it does not agree with the ideas of the age; they would rather see me seize the throne, than allow the people to give it to me. They have re-established the Bourbons in order to convince the people that the rights of sovereigns are sacred and inviolable. They have blundered. They would have done more for the cause of legitimacy by leaving my son there, than by re-establishing Louis XVIII. My dynasty had been recognised by France and by Europe; it had been consecrated by the Pope. They ought to have respected it. By abusing the rights of victory, it was in their power to deprive me of the throne: but it was unjust, odious, impolitic, to punish the son on account of the wrongs of his father, and to deprive him of his inheritance. I was not an usurper: they may say so as long as they like; nobody will believe them. The English, the Italians, the Germans, are now too enlightened to allow themselves to be crammed with old ideas, with antiquated notions. In the eyes of nations, the Sovereign who is chosen by the entirety of the nation, will always be the legitimate Sovereign.... The sovereigns who sent their ambassadors to me with servile solemnity; who placed in my bed a girl of their breed; who called me their brother, and who, after doing all this, have stigmatized me as an usurper, they have spit in their own faces by trying to spit at me. They have degraded the majesty of kings. They have covered majesty with mud. What is the name of an emperor? A word like any other. If I had no better title than that, when I shall present myself to future ages they would scorn me. My institutions, my benefactions, my victories—these are the true titles of my glory. Let them call me a Corsican, a corporal, an usurper.... I don't care.... I shall not be less the object of wonder, perhaps of veneration, in all future time. My name, new as it is, will live from age to age, whilst the names of all these kings, and their royal progeny, will be forgotten before the worms will have had time to consume their carcases." The Emperor stopped, and then continued; "I forget that time is precious; I will not detain you any longer. Adieu, Monsieur; embrace me, and depart; my thoughts and good wishes follow you."—Two hours afterwards I was at sea. My attention, my faculties were wholly absorbed by the Emperor, his words, his disclosures, his plans. I had neither leisure nor opportunity to think of myself. As soon as I was quite out at sea, my ideas were filled by the extraordinary part which chance had assigned to me. I contemplated it with pride, and I returned my thanks to destiny for having selected me as the instrument by which its impenetrable decrees were to be accomplished. Perhaps no man was ever placed in so "imposing" a situation. I was the arbiter of the fate of the Bourbons, and of the Emperor, of France and Europe. With one word I could destroy Napoleon; with one word I could save Louis. But Louis was nothing to me: in him I only saw a sovereign who had been forced upon the throne by foreign hands still imbrued with French blood. In Napoleon I saw the sovereign to whom France had freely offered the crown as the reward of twenty years of danger and of glory. The perspective of the evils which the attempt of Napoleon might bring upon France did not arise before my imagination. I was persuaded that all foreign powers (England excepted), would remain neutral; and that the French would receive Napoleon as a deliverer, and as a father. Still less did I consider myself as engaged in treason or conspiracy against the Bourbons. Since I had taken the oath of allegiance to Napoleon, I considered him as my legitimate sovereign; and I rejoiced to think that the confidence which Napoleon reposed in me had induced him to call upon me to concur in restoring to France the liberty, the power, and the glory of which the country had been unjustly deprived. I enjoyed, by anticipation, the public eulogiums, which, after his success, he would bestow upon my courage, my self-devotion, my patriotism. In short, I abandoned myself with rapture and with pride to all the thoughts, and all the generous resolutions which can be inspired by the love of fame and the love of our country.

The dialogues which had taken place between me and the Emperor continued impressed on my memory; yet, lest I might vary them, or omit any part, I employed my time during the voyage in recalling his own expressions, and in classing his questions and my answers. I afterwards got the whole by heart, just as a scholar learns his lesson, in order that I might be able to affirm to M. X*** that I was making a faithful and literal report to him of all that the Emperor had said, and of all that he had ordered me to tell him.

The weather being tolerably favourable, we soon reached Naples. I went immediately to M. ****: he put a great number of indiscreet questions to me; and I replied by an equal number of unmeaning answers. He probably thought that I knew no better, and therefore my caution did not offend him. When our preliminary conversation was exhausted, I desired him to give me my passport; he did so immediately: it was a Neapolitan passport. "This won't do for me," said I; "I must have a French passport."—"I have not got one."—"The Emperor told me that you could get one."—"That is just like the Emperor; he thinks every thing is possible: where does he suppose that I can procure it? I am doing a great deal in giving you a passport as a subject of his Majesty. It is already known that we are in relation with the isle of Elba. If they were to find out that you are attached to Napoleon, and that you are going back to France by his directions, and with the assistance of the King, all Europe would hear of it, and the King would be committed. Why does not the Emperor keep himself quiet? he will ruin himself, and ruin us all along with him."—"It is not fit that I should examine the conduct of his Majesty, much less that I should censure it. I am in his service; and my duty commands me to obey him. I want a French passport: can you, or can you not get me one?"—"I tell you again that it is impossible: it is doing too much if I give you one as a Neapolitan subject."—"Then I must return to Porto Ferrajo: but I cannot conceal from you that the Emperor is very desirous that I should return to France; and he will certainly be very much displeased, both with you and with the King."—"Then he will act unfairly: the King has done, and will do, every thing in his power for him: but the Emperor should know what the King may do under his present critical situation, and what he may not. But why won't you take the passport which I offer you?"—"Because I do not understand Italian, and consequently your passport would expose me to greater suspicion than my own."—"Then why don't you try to push on as far as Rome? there you will find the family of the Emperor. Louis XVIII. has a legation there; and perhaps money may get you a passport."—"Your idea is excellent: I will go. Inform the Emperor of the delay which I have experienced, in order that he may send another agent, if he thinks it advisable so to do."

When the mind is in perpetual activity, and constantly assailed by new feelings, there is no time for reflection. I thus went to Rome, full of the idea that I should visit the family of the Emperor, and request their help to aid me out of my difficulties. But when the time came, and I was to present myself, it then struck me that the Emperor, though aware that I was to pass through Rome, had not directed me to see them; and I concluded that he had his reasons. I therefore determined to continue my route. From Naples I have proceeded to Rome without any obstacle; and I shall proceed, thought I to myself, from Rome to Milan without any greater obstacle: there I shall meet my friend and his Tedesco; I will get them to legalize my French passport for the second time, and destiny will accomplish the rest.

I therefore presented myself boldly to the police at Rome, in order to have my Elba passport indorsed for Milan. I was introduced to his Eminence the Director-general, who, as I believe, had been shut up at Vincennes under the imperial government. He received me with great rudeness; and he wished to compel me to present myself to the French embassy. I would not consent. I answered, firmly, "The King of France is no longer my sovereign; I am the subject of the Emperor Napoleon: the allied sovereigns have proclaimed and recognized him as the sovereign of the isle of Elba: he therefore reigns at Porto Ferrajo like the Pope at Rome, George at London, and Louis XVIII. at Paris. The Emperor and his Holiness are on good terms with each other. The subjects and the vessels of the Roman states are well received in the isle of Elba[38], and therefore you are bound to afford aid and protection to the Elbese, so long as the holy father shall not become the enemy of Napoleon."

[Footnote 38: I obtained this information in the course of my voyage.]

This reasoning produced its effect; and his Eminence ordered, though he continued grumbling, that my demand was to be granted. "What are you going to do at Milan?" said he, and I think he muttered an oath between his teeth: "I am going," I answered, "relative to the dotations which were assigned to us upon the 'Mont Napoleon.'" He was satisfied with my answer, and so was I. I wrote to M. ****, the Neapolitan consul, transmitting my letter; and I requested him to send to the island an account of my new route.

I continued my journey. My passport was headed by the imperial arms. The name of Napoleon, and his title of Emperor, were inscribed in large letters. I was the first Frenchman from the island who had been able or who had dared to traverse Italy. How many things there were which roused curiosity and commanded attention! I was overwhelmed with questions relative to Porto Ferrajo and its illustrious sovereign. I answered as fully as they wished. Whilst they were busying themselves about the Emperor, they did not think of me, and that was what I wanted. In order to avoid troublesome examinations, I took care to pass through the towns at night, and never to stop in them. At length, thanks to my address and good fortune, I arrived safe and sound at Milan; there I found my friend and his colonel, and every thing was settled admirably.

I set off again for Turin with all possible speed. When I arrived on the Place of ... I perceived several numerous groups of persons, who appeared exceedingly animated. How great was my surprise when I found that they were talking of Napoleon, and his escape from the isle of Elba. This piece of intelligence, which had been just received, put me in a violent passion: I accused the Emperor of perfidiousness. I reproached him with having misled, deceived, and sacrificed me.

When my first fit of ill humour was calmed, I considered the conduct of the Emperor under another aspect. I thought that unexpected considerations might have induced him to embark precipitately. I was ashamed of my suspicions and of my violence, and I only wished to fly to his footsteps; but already orders had been given to prevent communication. I passed eight days, which appeared so many ages, in soliciting permission to return to France; and at last I obtained it. I arrived at Paris on the 25th of March: on the 26th M. X*** presented me to the Emperor: he embraced me, and said, "I have weighty reasons for wishing that you and X*** may both forget whatever passed at the isle of Elba. I alone will not forget it. Rely on my esteem and protection on all occasions[39]."

[Footnote 39: This narrative evidently shows, that the revolution of the 20th of March was not the effect of a conspiracy, but, strange to say, the work of two men, and a few words.

The share that M. Z*** had in the return of Napoleon will, perhaps, call down upon his head the censures of those who judge events only from their results. Will this opinion be well founded? Are men responsible for the caprice of fate? Is it not to fortune, rather than to M. Z***, that we must impute the disastrous end of this revolution, begun under such happy auspices?

More fortunate than Napoleon, M. Z*** was killed on Mount St. Jean, the moment when our troops penetrated thither amidst the plaudits of the army. He was permitted to draw his last breath on the standards, which the conquerors of Ligny had just snatched from the English; and, far from foreseeing that his visit to the island of Elba would at some future day be a reproach to his memory, he died with the persuasion, that victory had irrevocably fixed his destiny, and that his name, cherished by the French, cherished by the hero whom he had restored to them, would be for ever hallowed by the gratitude of France, become once more the great nation.

I shall not prematurely rob his manes of this consoling illusion; I shall not inform them, that ... no! it will be time enough hereafter to disturb their repose, and I shall await the attack before I begin the defence.]

Here ends the memoir of M. Z****.

This officer had scarcely quitted the island of Elba, when the Emperor (and I had the particulars from his Majesty himself) acknowledged and deplored the imprudence of which he had been guilty, in sending Z*** to the continent. The character and firmness of this faithful servant were sufficiently known to him, to prevent his feeling any anxiety on his account. He was certain (I use his own words), that he would suffer himself to be cut to pieces, before he would open his mouth: but he was afraid, that the inquiries he had directed him to make on the road, the letters he might address to him, or the conferences he might have at Paris with M. X*** and his friends, would excite the suspicions of the police; and that the Bourbons would station cruizers, so as to render an escape from the island of Elba, and a landing on the coast of France, altogether impossible.

Thus the Emperor felt that there was but one way of preventing the danger, that of departing immediately.

On this point he did not hesitate. From that moment every thing assumed a different aspect in the island of Elba.

This island, but the moment before the abode of philosophy and peace, became in an instant the imperial head-quarters. Couriers, orders, and counter-orders, were incessantly going and returning from Porto Ferrajo to Longone, and from Longone to Porto Ferrajo. Napoleon, whose fiery activity had been so long enchained, gave himself up, with infinite delight, to all the cares, that his audacious enterprise demanded. But in whatever mystery he fancied he had shrouded himself, the unusual accounts he had caused to be delivered in, the particular attention he had paid to his old grenadiers, had excited their suspicion; and they scarcely doubted, that he had it in contemplation to quit the island. Every one supposed, that he would land at Naples, or in some other port of Italy: no one ventured even to imagine, that his plan was to go and expel Louis XVIII. from the throne.

On the 26th of February, at one o'clock, the guard and the officers of his household received orders to hold themselves in readiness to depart. Every thing was in motion: the grenadiers with joy resumed their arms, that so long had lain idle, and spontaneously swore, never to quit them but with life. The whole population of the country, crowds of old men, women, and children, eagerly rushed to the shore; the most affecting scenes were exhibited on all sides. They thronged round the faithful companions of Napoleon in his exile, and contended with each other for the pleasure, the honour, of touching them, seeing them, embracing them for the last time. The younger members of the families of the first distinction in the island solicited as a favour, the danger of sharing in the perils of the Emperor. Joy, glory, hope, sparkled in every eye. They knew not whither they were going, but Napoleon was present, and with him could they doubt of victory?

At eight in the evening a gun gave the signal for departure. A thousand times embraces were immediately lavished and returned. The French rushed into their boats; martial music struck up; and Napoleon and his followers sailed majestically from the shore, amid the shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" a thousand times repeated[40].

[Footnote 40: The flotilla of Napoleon consisted of the brig Inconstant, carrying twenty-six guns and four hundred grenadiers, and six other light vessels, on board which were two hundred foot, two hundred Corsican chasseurs, and about a hundred Polish light horse. The feluccas and the brigs had been so fitted up, as to show no signs of the troops, and to have the appearance of mere merchantmen.]

Napoleon, when he set foot on board his vessel, exclaimed with Caesar, "The die is cast!" His countenance was calm, his brow serene: he appeared to think less of the success of his enterprise, than of the means of promptly attaining his object. The eyes of Count Bertrand sparkled with hope and joy: General Drouot was pensive and serious: Cambronne appeared to care little about the future, and to think only of doing his duty well. The old grenadiers had resumed their martial and menacing aspect. The Emperor chatted and joked with them incessantly: he pulled their ears and their mustachios, reminded them of their dangers and their glory, and inspired their minds with that confidence, with which his own was animated.

All were burning to know their destination: respect did not allow any one to ask the question: at length Napoleon broke silence. "Grenadiers," said he, "we are going to France, we are going to Paris." At these words every countenance expanded, their joy ceased to be mingled with anxiety, and stifled cries of "France for ever!" attested to the Emperor, that in the heart of a Frenchman the love of his country is never extinct.

An English sloop of war, commanded by Captain Campbell, appeared to have the charge of watching the island of Elba[41]: she was continually sailing from Porto Ferrajo to Leghorn, and from Leghorn to Porto Ferrajo. At the moment of embarkation she was at Leghorn, and could occasion no alarm; but several vessels were descried in the channel, and their presence gave room for just apprehensions. It was hoped, however, that the night breeze would favour the progress of the flotilla, and that before daybreak it would be out of sight. This hope was frustrated. ""Scarcely had it doubled Cape St. Andrew, in the island of Elba, when the wind fell and the sea became calm. At daybreak it had advanced only six leagues, and was still between the islands of Elba and Capraea.

[Footnote 41: People are pretty generally of opinion, that the escape of the Emperor from the Island of Elba was favoured by Captain Campbell. I do not think so: but every thing leads to the belief, that this officer had received orders from his government, not to prevent such a step.—(Note by the author of the Memoirs.)]

""The danger appeared imminent: several of the seamen were for returning to Porto Ferrajo. The Emperor ordered them to hold on their course, as, at the worst, he had the chance either of capturing the French cruiser, or of taking refuge in the island of Corsica, where he was assured of being well received. To facilitate their manoeuvres, he ordered all the luggage embarked to be thrown overboard, which was cheerfully executed at the instant.""

About noon the wind freshened a little. At four o'clock they were off Leghorn. One frigate was in sight five leagues to leeward, another on the coast of Corsica, and a man-of-war brig, which was perceived to be Le Zephir, commanded by Captain Andrieux, was coming down upon the imperial flotilla right before the wind. It was first proposed to speak to him, and make him hoist the three-coloured flag. "The Emperor, however, gave orders to the soldiers of the guard to take off their caps and conceal themselves below, choosing rather to pass by the brig without being known, and reserving himself in case of necessity, for the alternative of making him change his colours. At six o'clock the two brigs passed alongside of each other, and their commanders, who were acquainted, spoke together. The captain of Le Zephir inquired after the Emperor, and was answered through a speaking trumpet by the Emperor himself, that he was extremely well.

""The two brigs, steering opposite courses, were soon out of sight of each other, without Captain Andrieux having any suspicion of the valuable prize, that he had allowed to escape.

""In the night of the 27th the wind continued to freshen. At day-break a seventy-four was descried, which appeared steering for San Fiorenzo or Sardinia, and it was soon perceived, that she took no notice of the brig[42].""

[Footnote 42: The passages between two sets of inverted commas are copied from the official account published on the 22d of March. This account was drawn up by Napoleon, and I thought I could not do better than borrow his words.]

The Emperor, before he quitted the island of Elba, had prepared with his own hand two proclamations, one addressed to the French people, the other to the army; and he was desirous of having them copied out fairly. His secretary and General Bertrand, being neither of them able to decipher them, carried them to Napoleon, who, despairing of doing it himself, threw them into the sea from vexation. Then, after meditating for a few moments, he dictated to his secretary the two following proclamations on the spot.

Proclamation.

Gulf of Juan, March the 1st, 1815.

Napoleon, by the grace of God and constitution of the empire, Emperor of the French, &c. &c. &c.

To the Army.

Soldiers!

We have not been vanquished: two men, who issued from our ranks, betrayed our laurels, their country, their prince, their benefactor.

Shall they, whom we have seen for five and twenty years traversing all Europe, to stir up enemies against us—who have spent their lives in fighting against us in the ranks of foreign armies, and cursing our lovely France—now pretend to command us, and to enchain our eagles, the looks of which they could never withstand? Shall we suffer them to inherit the fruits of our glorious toils? to seize upon our honours, and our property, and calumniate our fame? Should their reign continue, all would be lost, even the remembrance of our memorable victories.

With what virulence do they distort them! They endeavour to poison what is the admiration of the world; and if any defenders of our glory still remain, it is among those very enemies whom we combated in the field.

Soldiers! in my exile I heard your voice: I am arrived through every obstacle, through every danger.

Your general, called to the throne by the voice of the people, and raised on your shields, is restored to you. Come and join him.

Tear down those colours, which the nation has proscribed, and which for five and twenty years served as a signal to rally all the enemies of France. Mount that tricoloured cockade, which you wore in our great victories. We must forget, that we have been the masters of other nations; but we must not suffer any to interfere in our affairs. Who shall pretend to be our master? Who is able to be so? Resume the eagles you bore at Ulm, at Austerlitz, at Jena, at Eylau, at Wagram, at Friedland, at Tudela, at Eckmuhl, at Essling, at Smolensko, at Moscow, at Lutzen, at Wurtchen, at Montmirail. Think you that handful of Frenchmen, now so arrogant, can support their sight? They will return whence they came; and there, if they please, they may reign, as they pretend to have reigned for nineteen years.

Your property, your rank, your glory—the property, the rank, the glory of your children—have no greater enemies than those princes, who have been imposed on us by foreigners. They are the enemies of our glory; since the recital of so many glorious actions, which have rendered illustrious the French people, fighting against them to emancipate themselves from their yoke, is their condemnation.

The veterans of the armies of the Sambre and Meuse, of the Rhine, of Italy, of Egypt, of the west, of the grand army, are humiliated; their honourable scars are disgraced; their successes would be crimes, the valiant would be rebels, if, as the enemies of the people assert, legitimate sovereigns were among the foreign armies. Their honours, rewards, affections, are for those who have served them, against us and against our country.

Soldiers, come and arrange yourselves under the standards of your chief: his existence consists only of yours; his rights are only those of the people and of you; his interest, his honour, his glory, are no other than your glory. Victory will march forward with the charge step: the eagle, with the national colours, will fly from steeple to steeple till it reaches the towers of Notre Dame. You may then display your scars with honour, you may then boast of what you have done: you will be the deliverers of your country.

In your old age, surrounded and respected by your fellow citizens, they will listen with veneration to the recital of your noble deeds: you may proudly say, I too was in that grand army which twice entered the walls of Vienna, and those of Rome, of Berlin, of Madrid, and of Moscow, and which cleansed Paris from the stain inflicted on it by treason and the presence of the enemy. Honour to those brave soldiers, the glory of their country! and eternal shame to those guilty Frenchmen, in whatever rank it was their fortune to be born, who fought for five and twenty years in company with foreigners, to wound the bosom of their country.

Signed, NAPOLEON.

By the Emperor.

The grand marshal, executing the functions of major-general of the grand army.

Signed, BERTRAND.

Proclamation.

Gulf of Juan, March 1, 1815.

Napoleon, by the grace of God and the constitution of the empire, Emperor of the French, &c. &c. &c.

To the French People.

Frenchmen!

The defection of the Duke of Castiglione gave up Lyons without defence to our enemies. The army, the command of which I had entrusted to him, was capable, from the bravery and patriotism of the troops of which it was formed, of beating the Austrian army opposed to it, and taking in the rear the left flank of the enemy's army, that threatened Paris.

The victories of Champ Aubert, of Montmirail, of Chateau Thierry, of Vauchamp, of Mormane, of Montereau, of Craone, of Rheims, of Arcy-sur-Aube, and of St. Dizier; the insurrection of the brave peasantry of Lorraine, of Champagne, of Alsace, of Franche Comte, and of Burgundy; and the position I had taken in the rear of the enemy's army, cutting it off from its magazines, its parks of reserve, and convoys, and all its waggons, had placed it in a desperate situation. The French were on the point of being more powerful than ever, and the flower of the enemy's army was lost without resource; it would have found its grave in those vast countries, which it had so pitilessly ravaged, when the treachery of the Duke of Ragusa delivered up the capital, and disorganized the army. The unsuspected conduct of these two generals, who betrayed at once their country, their prince, and their benefactor, changed the fate of the war: the situation of the enemy was such, that, after the affair that took place before Paris, he was without ammunition, in consequence of being separated from his parks of reserve[43].

[Footnote 43: They had fled precipitately as far as Basil.]

Under these new and important circumstances, my heart was torn, but my mind remained unshaken: I consulted only the interests of our country, and banished myself to a rock surrounded by the seas: my life was useful to you, and was destined still to be so. I would not permit the great number of citizens, who were desirous of accompanying me, to share my fate: I deemed their presence advantageous to France, and I took with me only the handful of brave fellows necessary for my guard.

Raised to the throne by your choice, every thing that has been done without you is illegal. Within these five and twenty years France has acquired new interests, new institutions, new glory, to be guarantied only by a national government, and a dynasty born under these new circumstances. A prince who should reign over you, who should be seated on my throne by the power of the same armies, that have ravaged our territories, would seek in vain to support himself by the principles of feudal right; he could secure the honour and the rights only of a small number of individuals, enemies to the people, who have condemned them in all our national assemblies for five and twenty years. Your tranquillity at home, and estimation abroad, would be lost for ever.

Frenchmen! in my exile I heard your complaints and wishes: you called for that government of your own choice, which alone is legitimate; you blamed my long slumber; you reproached me with sacrificing the great interests of the country to my own repose.

I have crossed the seas amid perils of every kind: I arrive among you to resume my rights, which are also yours. Every thing that individuals have done, written, or said, since the taking of Paris, I shall consign to everlasting oblivion; it shall have no influence on the remembrance I retain of the important services they have rendered, for there are events of such a nature, that they are above the frame of man.

Frenchmen! there is no nation, however small, that has not possessed the right of withdrawing, and that has not withdrawn itself, from the disgrace of obeying a prince imposed upon it by an enemy temporarily victorious. When Charles VII. re-entered Paris, and overturned the ephemeral throne of Henry VI., he acknowledged, that he held his crown from the valour of his brave people, and not from the Prince Regent of England.

It is to you only, and to the brave men of the army, that I make, and shall always make it my glory, to owe every thing.

Signed, NAPOLEON.

By the Emperor.

The grand marshal, executing the functions of major-general of the grand army.

Signed, BERTRAND.

The Emperor, while he dictated these proclamations, appeared to be animated with the most profound indignation. He seemed to have before his eyes, both the generals, whom he accused of having given up France, and the enemies, who had subjugated it. He incessantly repeated the names of Marmont and Augereau, and they were always accompanied with threats and with epithets, suited to the idea he had conceived of their treachery.

When the proclamations were transcribed, the Emperor directed them to be read aloud, and invited all those who could write a good hand to copy them. In an instant, benches and drums were converted into tables; and soldiers, sailors, and officers, set themselves gayly to work.

After a certain time, his Majesty said to the officers around him, "Now, gentlemen, it is your turn, to speak to the army: you must tell it what France expects of it under the important circumstances in which we shall soon find ourselves. Come, Bertrand, take your pen." The grand marshal excused himself. The Emperor then resumed his discourse, and dictated, without stopping, an address to the generals, officers, and soldiers of the army, in which the imperial guard conjured them, in the name of honour and their country, to shake off the yoke of the Bourbons.

"Soldiers," said they to them, "the drum beats the general, and we march: run to arms, come and join us, join your Emperor, and our eagles.

"And if these men, now so arrogant, who have always fled at the sight of our weapons, dare wait for us, where can we find a fairer occasion of shedding our blood, and chanting the hymn of victory?

"Soldiers of the seventh, eighth, and nineteenth military divisions, garrisons of Antibes, Toulon, and Marseilles, retired officers, veterans of our army, you are called to the honour of setting the first example: come with us to conquer that throne, which is the palladium of your rights; and let posterity some day tell, 'Foreigners, seconded by traitors, had imposed a disgraceful yoke on France; the brave arose, and the enemies of the people, of the army, disappeared, and returned to their original nothingness.'"

This address was scarcely finished, when the coast of Antibes was descried at a distance. Immediately on this, the Emperor and his brave fellows saluted the land of their country with shouts of "France for ever! Success to the French!" and at the same instant resumed the tricoloured cockade[44].

[Footnote 44: The cockade adopted by Napoleon, as sovereign of the island of Elba, was white and amaranth powdered with bees.]

On the 1st of March, at three o'clock, they entered the Gulf of Juan. General Drouot, and a certain number of officers and soldiers, who were on board the felucca Caroline, landed before the Emperor, who was still at a considerable distance from the shore. At this moment they perceived to the right a large vessel, which appeared to them (though they were mistaken in this) to be steering with all sails towards the brig. Suddenly they were seized with the greatest disquiet; they walked backward and forward, testifying by their gestures and their hurried steps, the emotion and fear with which they were agitated. General Drouot ordered the Caroline to be unloaded, and to hasten to meet the brig. In an instant cannons, carriages, chests, baggage, every thing was thrown out upon the sand, and already the grenadiers and brave sea officers of the guard were rowing away with all their strength, when acclamations from the brig saluted their ears and their affrighted eyes. It was the Emperor: whether from prudential motives or impatience, he had got into a simple boat. Their alarms ceased; and the grenadiers, stretching out their arms to him, received him with the most affecting demonstrations of devotedness and joy. At five o'clock he landed. I have heard him say, that he never felt an emotion so profound.

""His quarters for the night were taken up in a field surrounded by olive-trees. This, he exclaimed, is a happy omen: may it be realized!""

A few peasants were seen: the Emperor ordered them to be called, and interrogated them. One of them had formerly served under him: he knew his old general, and would not quit him. Napoleon, turning to the grand marshal, said to him, with a smile, "Well, Bertrand, you see we have a reinforcement already." He spent the evening chatting and laughing familiarly with his generals and the officers of his household. "I see from this spot," said he, "the fright I shall give the Bourbons, and the embarrassment of all those who have turned their backs upon me." Then, continuing to joke on the same subject, he defined, with his wonted sagacity, the characters of the marshals and great personages, who had formerly served him; and was much amused with the endeavours they would make ""to save appearances, and prudently await the moment for declaring themselves for the strongest party.""

The success of his enterprise appeared less to employ his thoughts, than the dangers to which his friends and partisans, whom he no longer called by any other name than that of patriots, were going to be exposed. "What will become of the patriots before my arrival at Paris?" he frequently exclaimed: "I tremble lest the Vendeans and emigrants should massacre them. Wo betide those who touch them! I will have no mercy on them."

Immediately after he landed, the Emperor had despatched a captain of the guard with five and twenty men to Antibes: their instructions were, to present themselves as deserters from the island of Elba; to sound the disposition of the garrison; and, if this appeared favourable, to seduce it: but, led away by their imprudent ardour, they entered the city, shouting, "Long live the Emperor!" and the commandant caused the drawbridge instantly to be raised, and detained them as prisoners. Napoleon, finding they did not return, sent for a civil officer of the guard, and said to him, ""You will immediately repair to the walls of Antibes: you will deliver this despatch, or cause it to be delivered to General Corsin: you will not enter the place, as you might be detained: you will draw together the soldiers, you will read to them my proclamations, and you will harangue them. Do you not know, you will say to them, that your Emperor is here? that the garrisons of Grenoble and Lyons have marched to join him with the charge step? What do you wait for? Will you leave to others the honour of joining him before you? the honour of marching at the head of his advanced guard? Come, and salute our eagles and our tricoloured flags. The Emperor and your country command it; then come.""

This officer, on his return, said, that the gates of the town and harbour were closed, and that it was not possible for him to see General Corsin, or to speak to the soldiers. Napoleon appeared disappointed, though but little disturbed by the disappointment. At eleven in the evening he began his march, with four small pieces of artillery in his train. The Poles, though unable to embark their horses, had brought with them their accoutrements, and gayly marched in the advanced guard, bending beneath the weight of their enormous luggage. Napoleon purchased for them every horse he met with, and thus remounted his handful of cavalry one by one.

He proceeded to Cannes, thence to Grasses, and, in the evening of the 2d, arrived at the village of Cerenon, having marched twenty leagues this first day. Every where he was received with sentiments, that presaged the success of the enterprise.

On the 3d the Emperor slept at Bareme, and on the 4th at Digne. The report of his landing, which preceded him from place to place, excited every where a mingled feeling of joy, surprise, and anxiety. The peasants blessed his return, and expressed their good wishes to him in their simple language; but when they saw his little troop, they looked on him with tender pity, and had no hope of his being triumphant with such feeble means.

On the 5th Napoleon slept at Gap, and retained with him only six horsemen, and forty grenadiers.

In this city he printed, for the first time, his proclamations: they were diffused with the rapidity of lightning, and inflamed every head and every heart with such violent and prompt devotedness, that the whole population of the country was desirous of rising in a body, and marching as his advanced guard.

In these proclamations he did not borrow, as has been asserted, the title of general in chief, or of lieutenant general of his son. Before he quitted the island of Elba, he had determined to resume the style of Emperor of the French as soon as he landed.

He was aware, that any other title would diminish his strength, and his ascendancy over the people and the army; would render his intentions doubtful; would give rise to scruples and hesitation; and besides, would place him in a state of hostility against France. In short, he was aware, that it would always be in his power to give legitimacy to his title of Emperor of the French, should the suffrages of the nation prove necessary, to restore to him in the eyes of Europe, and even of France, those rights, which might have been temporarily lost by his abdication.

The superior authorities of Gap had retired at his approach: he had to receive the congratulations only of the mayor, the municipal council, and the half-pay officers. He discoursed with them on the benefits of the revolution, the sovereignty of the people, liberty, equality, and particularly of the emigrants and the Bourbons. Before he left them, he addressed his public thanks to the inhabitants of the Upper and Lower Alps, in the following words:

Citizens,

I have been strongly touched by all the sentiments that you have testified towards me: your prayers will be heard; the cause of the nation will still triumph. You have reason to call me your father; I live only for the honour and happiness of France. My return dissipates your disquietudes; it guarantees the preservation of every one's property, the equality of all classes; and those rights, which you have enjoyed for twenty-five years, and for which our forefathers so frequently sighed, now form a part of your existence.

In whatever circumstances I may be placed, I shall always remember, with a lively interest, what I have seen in traversing your country.

[45]""On the 6th, at two o'clock in the afternoon, the Emperor left Gap, and the whole city went out to see him set off.

[Footnote 45: The passages marked with two sets of inverted commas continue to be extracts from the official account.]

""At St. Bonnel the inhabitants, seeing the small number of his soldiers, were full of fears, and proposed to him to sound the alarm-bell, in order to collect the neighbouring villagers, and accompany him in a body. 'No,' said the Emperor, 'your sentiments convince me, that I have not deceived myself; they are a sure guarantee of the sentiments of my soldiers; those whom I meet will range themselves on my side; and the more they are, the more certain will be my success. Remain, therefore, tranquil at home.'""

The same day the Emperor came to sleep at Gorp; General Cambronne and forty men, forming the advanced guard, pushed on as far as Mure.

Cambronne most commonly proceeded alone before his grenadiers to explore the road, and cause quarters and subsistence to be provided for them. Scarcely had he pronounced the name of the Emperor, when every one was eager to testify to him the most lively and tender solicitude. One mayor alone, the Marquis de ***, mayor of Sisteron, tried to raise the inhabitants of that commune, describing to them the soldiers of Napoleon as robbers and incendiaries. Confounded by the sudden appearance of General Cambronne alone, and with no other weapon than his sword, he changed his language, and pretended to have had no fear but that of being paid[46]. Cambronne coolly threw him his purse, and said, "Pay yourself!" The indignant people were eager to furnish more provision than was demanded; and when the battalion of Elba appeared, they offered it a tricoloured flag, as a sign of their esteem and devotedness.

[Footnote 46: The public papers, since the second restoration, have not failed to assert, that the troops of the Emperor disgracefully pillaged the communes through which they passed. This imputation, like many others, is a cowardly slander. The Emperor had recommended to his grenadiers, and it is well known that they never disobeyed him, to exact nothing from the inhabitants; and in order to prevent the least irregularity, he took care himself to arrange the means of ascertaining every thing that was furnished, and paying for it. He had given this in charge to an inspector in chief of reviews, M. Boinot, and a commissary at war, M. Ch. Vauthier, for whose zeal and integrity he had the highest esteem. Whatever was furnished was paid for on delivery by the treasurer, M. Peyruse, on an account authenticated by M. Vauthier, and at the prices fixed by the mayors themselves.]

On quitting the mayor, General Cambronne and his forty grenadiers met a battalion sent from Grenoble to block up their passage. Cambronne wished to parley with them, but they would not listen to him. The Emperor, informed of this resistance, immediately went forward: his guard, exhausted by a long march through the snow and rough roads, had not all been able to follow him; but when it heard of the affront offered to Cambronne, and the dangers the Emperor might run, it forgot its fatigues, and hastened after him. Those soldiers, who could no longer support themselves on their galled or wounded feet, were assisted by their comrades, or carried by them on litters formed with their musquets: all swore, like the soldiers of Fabius, not to conquer or die, but to be victors. When the Emperor perceived them, he held out his hand to them, and said, "With you, my brave soldiers, I should not be afraid of ten thousand men."

Meantime the troops come from Grenoble had retreated, and taken a position three leagues from Gorp, between the lakes, and near a village. The Emperor went to reconnoitre them. He found in the line opposed to him a battalion of the fifth regiment, a company of sappers, and a company of miners; in all seven or eight hundred men. He sent to them chef d'escadron Roul: they refused to listen to him. On this, Napoleon, turning to Marshal Bertrand, said, "Z. has deceived me; no matter, forwards!" Immediately, alighting from his horse, he marched straight to the detachment, followed by his guard, with arms secured (l'arme baissee): "What, my friends!" said he to them, "do you not know me? I am your Emperor: if there be a soldier among you, who is willing to kill his general, his Emperor, he may do it: here I am!" and he placed his hand upon his breast....

The unanimous shout of "Long live the Emperor!" was the answer.

""Immediately they requested permission, to be the first to march against the division, that covered Grenoble. The march commenced amid a crowd of the inhabitants, which increased every instant. Vizille distinguished itself by its enthusiasm: "It is here the revolution is born," said these brave fellows: "we are the first who have dared to claim the privileges of men: it is here, too, that French liberty revives, and that France recovers its honour and independence."

""Between Vizille and Grenoble, an adjutant-major of the seventh of the line came to announce, that Colonel Labedoyere, deeply wounded by the dishonour that affected all France, and governed by the noblest sentiments, had separated from the division of Grenoble, and with his regiment was hastening with all speed to meet the Emperor.""

Soon after, numerous acclamations were heard at a distance: they were from Labedoyere, and the seventh. The two troops, impatient to join, broke their ranks: embraces, and shouts a thousand times repeated, of "The guard for ever! the seventh for ever! long live the Emperor!" became the pledge of their union, and of their sentiments.

Napoleon, who saw his forces and the public enthusiasm increase at every step, resolved to enter Grenoble that very evening.

Before he reached the city he was stopped by a young merchant, an officer of the national guard. "Sire," said he, "I come to offer your Majesty a hundred thousand francs, and my sword."—"I accept both: remain with us." Farther on he was joined by a party of officers, who confirmed to him what he had learned from Labedoyere, that General Marchand and the prefect had declared against him, and that neither the garrison, nor the national guard, had yet displayed any favourable disposition.

""In fact, General Marchand had caused the troops to re-enter Grenoble, and closed the gates: the ramparts were covered by the third regiment of engineers, composed of two thousand sappers, all veterans, covered with honourable scars; by the fourth of artillery of the line, the very regiment in which the Emperor had been made a captain five and twenty years before; then the two battalions of the fifth of the line, and the faithful hussars of the fourth.""

Never did a besieged town exhibit a similar spectacle; the besiegers, with arms reversed, and marching in joyful irregularity, approached the walls singing. No noise of arms, no warlike shouts from the soldiers, rose to affright the air: nothing was heard but repeated acclamations of "Grenoble for ever! France for ever! Napoleon for ever!" no cries but those of the most unrestrained gaiety, and the purest enthusiasm. The garrison, the national guard, the town's-people, spread over the ramparts, beheld at first with surprise, with emotion, these transports of joy and attachment. It was not long before they shared them; and the besiegers and besieged, united by the same thoughts, the same sentiments, uttered at once the rallying words, "Long live the Emperor!" The people and the soldiers repaired to the gates, which were in an instant beaten down, and Napoleon, surrounded, thronged by an idolizing crowd, made his triumphant entry into Grenoble. A few moments after, the people came and brought him the fragments of the gates with trumpets sounding, and said, "For want of the keys of the good town of Grenoble, here are the gates for you."

The possession of this place was of the highest importance to Napoleon: it afforded him a point of support, ammunition, arms, and artillery. He could not conceal his extreme satisfaction, and said repeatedly to his officers, "All is now decided; we are sure of getting to Paris." He questioned Labedoyere at large on the state of Paris, and the situation of France in general. This young colonel, full of the noblest sentiments, expressed himself with a frankness that sometimes staggered Napoleon. "Sire," he said, "the French will do every thing for your Majesty; but then your Majesty must do every thing for them: no more ambition, no more despotism: we are determined to be free and happy. It is necessary, Sire, to renounce that system of conquest and power which occasioned the misfortunes of France, and of yourself."—"If I succeed," answered Napoleon, "I will do every thing requisite to fulfil the expectations of the nation: its happiness is dearer to me than my own: it is to render it free and happy, that I have embarked in an undertaking, which might not succeed, and might cost me my life; but we shall have the consolation of dying in our native land."—"And of dying," added Labedoyere, "for its honour and its liberty."

The Emperor gave orders to have his proclamations printed in the course of the night, and despatched emissaries in every direction to announce his having entered Grenoble; that Austria was for him; that the king of Naples was following him with eighty thousand men; ... and, in short, to discourage, intimidate, and curb, by false alarms and false confidences, the partisans and agents of the regal government.

The proclamations, posted up in abundance, produced the most lively sensation, as at Gap. In fact, never had the national pride, patriotism, and the noblest passions of the mind, been addressed with more fascination, strength, and eloquence. The soldiers and citizens were never tired of reading and admiring them. Every person was desirous of having them. Travellers, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring country, received an immense quantity, which they took upon themselves to spread abroad on their road, and to send to all parts.

The next day, the 8th, the clergy, the staff-officers, the imperial court, the tribunals, and the civil and military authorities, came to acknowledge Napoleon, and to offer him their congratulations. He conversed familiarly with the judges on the administration of justice; with the clergy on what was necessary to public worship; with the soldiery on the armies; with the municipal officers on the sufferings of the people, the towns, and the country places; and delighted them all by the variety of his knowledge, and the benevolence of his intentions. He then said to them: "I knew that France was unhappy; I heard its groans and its reproaches; I am come with the faithful companions of my exile, to deliver her from the yoke of the Bourbons ... their throne is illegitimate ... my rights were conferred on me by the nation, by the unanimous will of the French people: they are no other rights than theirs.... I am come to resume them; not to reign, the throne is nothing to me: not to revenge myself, for I shall forget every thing that has been said, done, or written, since the capitulation of Paris; but to restore to you the rights, which the Bourbons have taken from you, and to emancipate you from the subscription to the glebe, the vassalage, and the feudal system, with which you are threatened by them.... I have been too fond of war; I will make war no more: I will leave my neighbours at rest: we must forget, that we have been masters of the world.... I wish to reign, in order to render our lovely France free, happy, and independent; and to place its happiness on foundations not to be shaken; I wish to be less its sovereign than the first and best of its citizens. I might have come to attack the Bourbons with ships and numerous fleets; but I would have no assistance from Murat or from Austria. I know my fellow citizens, and the defenders of my country, and I reckon on their patriotism."

The audience ended, the Emperor reviewed the garrison, consisting of five or six thousand men. As soon as he appeared, the sky was darkened by the multitude of sabres, bayonets, grenadier-caps, chacos, &c., which the people and the soldiers raised in the air, amid the most lively demonstrations of attachment and love.

He said a few words to the people, which could not be heard, and repaired to the front of the fourth of artillery. "It was among you," said he, "that I began my career in arms. I love you all as old comrades; I have observed you in the field of battle, and I have always been satisfied with your conduct. But I hope, that we shall have no occasion for your guns: France has need of moderation and repose. The army will enjoy, in the bosom of peace, the benefits I have already conferred on it, and those I shall yet bestow. In me the soldiers have found again their father: they may reckon upon the rewards they have deserved."

After this review, the garrison set out on its march to Lyons.

In the evening Napoleon wrote to the Empress and Prince Joseph. He directed him to make known at Rome, at Naples, and at Porto Ferrajo, that his enterprise had every appearance of being crowned with the most speedy and brilliant success. The couriers departed with great noise; and care was taken to make known, that they were carrying to the Empress the news of the Emperor's return, with orders to come immediately, with her son, and join him.

On the 9th the Emperor declared the establishment of the imperial power by three decrees.

The first directed all public acts, and the administration of justice, to be executed in his name from the 15th of March.

The two others organized the national guards of the five departments of the Upper and Lower Alps, la Drome, Mont Blanc, and the Izere, and entrusted to the honour and patriotism of the inhabitants of the seventh division the fortified towns of Briancon, Grenoble, Fort Barreaux, Colmar, &c.

The moment he set off, he addressed to the inhabitants of the department of the Izere the following proclamation:

Citizens,

When in my exile I learned all the misfortunes, that oppressed the nation; that all the rights of the people were disregarded, and that I was reproached with the state of repose in which I lived: I lost not a moment: I embarked on board a slight vessel, crossed the sea in the midst of ships of war belonging to various nations, landed alone on the shores of our country, and thought of nothing but of arriving with the rapidity of an eagle in this good city of Grenoble, of the patriotism of which, and its personal attachment to me, I was well aware. Men of Dauphiny, you have answered my expectation.

I have endured, not without a wounded heart, but without being dejected, the misfortunes to which for a twelvemonth I have been a prey. The spectacle displayed to my eyes by the people on my journey has inspired me with the most lively emotions. Though a few clouds have altered the high opinion I entertained of the French people, what I have seen has convinced me, that they are still worthy of the name of the Great People, which I gave them twenty years ago.

Men of Dauphiny, about to quit your country, to repair to my good city of Lyons, I could not refrain from expressing to you all the esteem, with which your lofty sentiments have inspired me. My heart is filled with the emotions, that you have excited in it, and I shall never forget them.

The news of the Emperor's landing did not reach Paris till the 5th of March, at night. It transpired on the 6th; and on the 7th a royal proclamation appeared in the Moniteur, convoking the chambers immediately; and a decree, that placed Napoleon, and all who should join or assist him, out of the protection of the law[47]; without any farther particulars.

[Footnote 47: This mode of proceeding, worthy of the barbarous ages, was a new infraction of the law of nations, and of the constitutional laws of France, on the part of the ministry. No article of the charter conferred on the monarch the right of life and death over his subjects; and consequently he had no authority to proscribe those who accompanied and assisted Napoleon. If they were considered as robbers, it was the office of the tribunals to judge and to punish them.

Neither was he authorized, to order Napoleon to be murdered. He had preserved the title of Emperor, legally enjoyed the prerogative of sovereignty, and might make war or peace as he pleased.

The title of Emperor of the French, which he arrogated to himself, could not be a title to proscription. George III., previous to the treaty of Amiens, styled himself King of France and Navarre. Had he made a descent in arms on our territory, would any one have had a right, to proclaim him out of the pale of the law, and order the French people to murder him?]

On the 8th the Moniteur and other newspapers announced, that Bonaparte had landed with eleven hundred men, most of whom had already deserted him; that he was wandering in the mountains, accompanied only by a few individuals; that he had been refused provision, was in want of every thing, and, pursued and on the point of being surrounded by the troops sent against him from Toulon, Marseilles, Valence, and Grenoble, he must speedily expiate his rash and criminal enterprise.

This news struck all parties with astonishment, and made different impressions on them, according to their different sentiments and opinions.

The discontented had no doubt of the success of the Emperor, and the ruin of the Bourbons.

The courtiers regretted that there was not sufficient danger in this mad and audacious enterprise, to give at least some value to their attachment.

The emigrants looked at it with pity, turned it into ridicule; and, if they had wanted nothing more than jests, abuse, and swaggering, to beat Napoleon, there could have been no doubt of their victory.

The government itself participated in their boasting and security.

Fresh despatches soon made known the progress of Napoleon.

The Count d'Artois, the Duke of Orleans, and Marshal Macdonald, set off hastily for Lyons.

The royalists were uneasy, the government removed their fears.

The Count d'Artois, they said, at the head of fifteen thousand national guards, and ten thousand of the troops of the line, must stop him before Lyons.

General Marchand, General Duverney, the Prince of Essling, and the Duke d'Angouleme, were getting into his rear, and would cut off his retreat.

General Le Courbe was manoeuvring on his flanks.

Marshal Oudinot was arriving with his faithful royal grenadiers.

The national guards of Marseilles, and the whole population of the south, were marching from all quarters in pursuit of him; and it was impossible for him to escape.

This was the 10th of March.

The next day an officer of the King's household appeared in the balcony of the Tuileries, and, waving his hat, announced, that the King had just received an official account of the Duke of Orleans, at the head of twenty thousand men of the national guard of Lyons, having attacked Bonaparte on the side towards Bourgoing, and completely beaten him.

The same day information was given, that Generals d'Erlon, Lefevre Desnouettes, and Lallemand, who had attempted to seduce the troops under their orders, had completely failed, and taken flight[48].

[Footnote 48: These four generals had agreed, to repair together to Paris. The troops of Count d'Erlon, quartered at Lisle, deceived by supposititious orders, were on their march, when they were met by the Duke de Trevise, who was going to take the command of his government. He interrogated them, perceived the plot, and ordered them back.

Count Lefevre Desnouettes, ignorant of this unlucky circumstance, put in motion his regiment, which was in garrison at Cambrai. When he reached Compiegne, he did not find the troops he expected, and showed some hesitation. The officers of his corps, and particularly Major Lyon, questioned him, and finally abandoned him.

On the other hand, the brothers Lallemand, one of whom was general of artillery, had marched to Fere with a few squadrons, intending to seize the park of artillery. The resistance they met from General d'Aboville disconcerted them, and, after they had attempted in vain to seduce the garrison, they fled, but were shortly after arrested.

It was supposed, that this rising in arms had been concerted with Napoleon; but I know from good authority, that it was solely the result of an evening spent at General ***'s. A few bowls of punch had heated their brains; they complained of their situation; they were indignant, that a handful of cowardly emigrants should prescribe laws to them; they were persuaded it would be easy to displace them; and, proceeding from one step to another, they concluded by agreeing to march to Paris, and compel the King to change his ministry, and banish from France all those whom the public voice denounced as enemies to the charter, and disturbers of the public tranquillity and happiness. Such was their true and only object.]

The malecontents were in doubt: the royalists were intoxicated.

On the 12th, the victory of the Duke of Orleans was contradicted. The official paper announced, that Bonaparte must have slept at Bourgoing; that he was expected to enter Lyons on the evening of the 10th of March; and that it appeared certain, that Grenoble had not yet opened its gates to him.

The Count d'Artois soon arrived, and confirmed by his return the taking of Lyons, and the inutility of his efforts.

The alarm was renewed.

The King, whose countenance was at the same time dignified and affecting, invoked by eloquent proclamations the attachment of the French, and the courage and fidelity of the army.

The army maintained silence. The judicial bodies, the civil authorities, the order of advocates, and a number of individual citizens, answered the King's appeal by addresses testifying their love and fidelity.

The two chambers equally laid at the foot of the throne the expression of their sentiments: but their language differed.

"Sire," said the Chamber of Peers, "hitherto paternal goodness has marked all the acts of your government[49]. If it be necessary that the laws should be rendered more severe, you would no doubt lament it; but the two chambers, animated with the same spirit, would be eager to concur in every measure that the importance of circumstances, and the safety of the people, may require."

[Footnote 49: The chancellor, no doubt, had forgotten the proscription, that delivered over to death all those Frenchmen who joined or assisted Bonaparte.]

"Whatever faults may have been committed," said the Chamber of Deputies, "the present is not the moment for inquiring into them. It is the duty of all of us, to unite against the common enemy, and afterwards endeavour, to render this crisis beneficial to the security of the throne and its public liberty."