The King did not stop at empty proclamations. He decreed,

That a new army should be assembled in front of Paris, under the orders of the Duke of Berri and the command of Marshal Macdonald:

That all the soldiers on furlough, or conditionally discharged, should rejoin their corps:

That all the half-pay officers should be called out:

That the three millions of national guards of the kingdom should take up arms, in order to check the factious and disperse their meetings, while the army took the field:

That the young national guards, who were desirous of forming a part of the acting army, should be armed and accoutred, and sent to the parts that were threatened.

That to render useful the services of those brave Frenchmen, who on all sides were demanding to be led against the enemy, battalions of royal volunteers should be formed, and make a part of the army of the Duke of Berri.

Marshal Ney, whose popularity and influence were well known, was appointed to take the command of the troops of the east.

The Duke de Feltre took the place of Marshal Soult.

In short, the King omitted nothing, that could concur in protecting his throne from the dangers, with which it was threatened.

Such measures, sufficient to stop an army of three hundred thousand men, could only attest the success of Napoleon; and yet the ministry daily caused the most encouraging reports to be spread among the people, and confirmed by the newspapers.

M. de Montesquiou, faithful to the system of deception he had adopted, continued to mislead the deputies, cheating them by false intelligence, and lulling them with hopes, which he himself no longer entertained. He knew the intoxication, which was excited in every place by the approach and passage of Napoleon. He knew, that he was master of Grenoble and Lyons; that the troops attempted to be opposed to him had joined his with enthusiasm: and nevertheless he announced to the chamber, "that the population of all the departments invaded by the adventurer of the island of Elba loudly manifested their indignation against this audacious robber; that they may have been surprised, but not subjugated; that all his summonses of places, and the orders he had attempted to issue to the local authorities, had been rejected with firmness; that the Lyonese had displayed the attachment, that was to be expected from their noble character; that the departments of Burgundy, Franche Comte, Lorraine, Champagne, Picardy, &c. &c. rivalled each other in their attachment and energy; that the good disposition of the troops was answerable to that of the citizens; and that all together, generals, officers, soldiers, and citizens, concurred in the defence of their country and of their King."

These political juggleries were not without effect. They satisfied some credulous men, and inflamed the courage and imaginations of a few youths. The enrolments of volunteers were more numerous: a certain number of pupils of the schools of law and physic offered their services, and traversed the streets of Paris, shouting "Long live the King! Down with the Corsican! Down with the tyrant! &c."

This effervescent movement could not be durable; and whatever pains were taken to deceive the metropolis, the truths announced by travellers and private letters opposed these ministerial falsehoods.

The defection of Marshal Ney soon came to tear off the veil, and spread affright and consternation among the ministers and their partisans.

The King repaired to the Chamber of Deputies, in the hope of confirming their attachment, and of dissipating by a solemn oath those doubts of his adherence to the charter, and of his intention to maintain it, which his ministers occasioned. Never was a more imposing and pathetic spectacle exhibited. What heart could steel itself against the sorrows of that august and aged man, against the sound of his mournful voice? Those prophetic words, "I fear nothing for myself, but I fear for France: at sixty years of age can I better close my career, than by dying in defence of the state?" These words of the King excited the most lively emotion, and tears in abundance fell from every eye.

The oath pronounced by the King, to maintain the charter, was immediately repeated by the Count d'Artois, who had hitherto refrained from it. "We swear," said he, "on our honour, I and my family, to live and die faithful to our King, and to the constitutional charter, which assures the happiness of France." But these tardy protestations could not repair the mischief, that the disloyal conduct of the government had done to the Bourbons and their cause.

In vain did the words country, liberty, and constitution, recur in every discourse, and in every proclamation.

In vain was it solemnly promised, that France, as soon as it was delivered, should receive all the securities claimed by the public voice, and that the press should recover perfect freedom.

In vain was the lustre and the prerogative, of which the legion of honour had been despoiled, offered to be restored to it.

In vain were pompous eulogies and brilliant promises lavished on the army.

The time was past.

The minister had robbed the King of confidence, which is the prime agent of the ascendancy of princes over the people; and of strength, which can alone supply the place of confidence, and command fear and obedience.

The approach of Napoleon;

The desertion of Marshal Ney;

The declaration made by those generals, who still retained their fidelity, that the troops would not fight against the Emperor, left the government no doubt of the fate that awaited it.

From that moment there was no longer harmony in their designs, or concert in the means of executing them.

Orders and counter-orders were given on the one hand, and revoked on the other. Schemes of every kind, all equally inconsiderate and impracticable, were approved and rejected, resumed and abandoned.

The chambers and the government had ceased to act in unison. The ministers complained of the deputies; the deputies publicly demanded of the King the dismissal of his ministers, and that he would place around himself men, "who have been the constant defenders of justice and liberty, and whose names shall be a guarantee for the interest of all[50]."

[Footnote 50: It is asserted, that on this occasion a conference took place, at which M. Laine, MM. de Broglie, la Fayette, d'Argenson, Flaugergue, Benjamin Constant, &c. were present, where it was decided, that the King should be required in the name of the public safety:

1. To dismiss MM. de Blacas, Montesquiou, Dambray, and Ferrand:

2. To call to the Chamber of Peers forty new members, chosen exclusively from men of the revolution:

3. To confer on M. de la Fayette, the command of the national guard: and

4. To despatch patriotic commissioners, to stimulate the attachment, the zeal, and the fidelity of the troops.]

The same disorder, the same disunion, manifested themselves every where at the same time: there was only one point in which people agreed; that all was lost.

In fact so it was.

The people, whom the nobles had humbled, vexed, or terrified by haughty and tyrannical pretensions;

They who had acquired national domains, whom they had wished to dispossess;

The protestants, who had been sacrificed;

The magistrates, who had been turned out;

The persons in office, who had been reduced to want;

The soldiers, officers, and generals, who had been despised and ill-treated;

The revolutionists, who had been incessantly insulted and menaced;

The friends of justice, and of liberty, who had been abused;

All the French, whom the government had reduced, as it were, in spite of themselves, to wish for another order of things; eagerly embraced the cause of Napoleon, which had become the national cause through the faults of the government.

Royalty had no defenders left but women and their handkerchiefs; priests without influence; nobles without courage; body guards without youth, or without experience.

The legions of the national guard, on which such great reliance had been placed, were reviewed by their colonel-general: he harangued them on the charter, and the tyranny of Bonaparte; he told them, that he would march at their head, and said: "Let those, who love their King, come out from their ranks, and follow me." Scarcely two hundred obeyed the order.

The royal volunteers, who had made so much noise, when they expected to be victors without incurring any peril, had gradually dispersed; and those, whom the approach of danger had neither intimidated nor cooled, were too few to have any weight in the balance.

The government had one sole and last hope remaining: it was, dare I say it? that Napoleon would be assassinated.

The same men who had preached up a civil war, and declared, that it would be shameful not to have one; soiled the walls of Paris with provocations to murder, and fanatic praises bestowed beforehand on murderers. Emissaries, mixing in the various groups of the people, endeavoured to put the poniard into the hands of the new Jacques Clements. A public act had proscribed Napoleon; a reward was publicly offered for his head. This call for a crime, which indignant France first heard from the assassins of Coligny, was repeated by men, who, like them, had the sacred words of morality, humanity, and religion, continually in their mouths, and who, like them, thirsted only after vengeance and blood.

But while they were conspiring at Paris to assassinate Napoleon, he peaceably pursued his triumphant march.

Quitting Grenoble on the 9th, he came that night and slept at Burgoing. [51]""The crowd and the enthusiasm continued to increase: "We have long expected you," said all these brave fellows to the Emperor; "at length you are come, to deliver France from the insolence of the nobility, the pretensions of the priests, and the disgrace of a foreign yoke."

[Footnote 51: The double sets of inverted commas are still used to distinguish passages extracted from the official account.]

""The Emperor, being fatigued[52], was in his calash, the horse walking, surrounded by a crowd of peasants, singing songs, that expressed the noble sentiments of these brave Dauphinese. "Ah!" said the Emperor, "I here find again the sentiments, which twenty years ago led me to hail France by the name of the great nation! Yes, you are still the great nation, and you shall ever be so."""

[Footnote 52: He had travelled from Cannes to Grenoble partly on horseback, but chiefly on foot.]

They approached Lyons: the Emperor had sent his emissaries before him, who informed him, that the Count d'Artois, the Duke of Orleans, and Marshal Macdonald, had determined to defend the city, and that they were going to break down the bridges de la Guillotiere and Moraud. ""The Emperor laughed at these ridiculous preparations: he could not doubt the disposition of the Lyonese, still less those of the soldiers; yet he gave orders to General Bertrand, to collect boats at the Mirbel, intending to cross the river in the night, and cut off the roads to Moulins and Macon for the Prince, who wanted to prevent his passing the Rhone. At four o'clock a reconnoitring party of the fourth hussars arrived at la Guillotiere, and were received with shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" by the immense population of the suburb, that has always been distinguished for its attachment to its country.""

The Emperor immediately countermanded the passage at Mirbel, and desirous of availing himself of this first enthusiastic movement, as at Grenoble, galloped forward to the suburb of Guillotiere.

The Count d'Artois, less fortunate, could not even succeed in opposing to his adversary a shadow of defence.

He was desirous of destroying the bridges, but the city opposed it.

The troops, whose attachment he fancied he could purchase by the distribution of money, or the bait of rewards, had remained deaf to his words, his entreaties, his promises. Passing before the thirteenth regiment of dragoons, he said to a brave fellow, decorated with three chevrons and with scars: "Come, comrade, shout Long live the King!"—"No, Sir," answered the brave dragoon, "No soldier will fight against his father; I can only answer you by saying Long live the Emperor!" Confused and in despair, he exclaimed in a sorrowful tone, "All is lost!" and these words, instantly spreading from one to another, only strengthened the prevailing ill will or discouragement[53].

[Footnote 53: It was a great oversight, to send the Count d'Artois to face Napoleon. It was easy to foresee, that, if this prince should fail in a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants against eight hundred men, the business would be decided.]

Marshal Macdonald, however, who was well known to the troops, had succeeded in barricading the bridge of la Guillotiere, and led two battalions of infantry thither in person; when the hussars of Napoleon came out from the suburb, and presented themselves before the bridge, preceded, surrounded, and followed, by all the youth of the place.

The marshal restrained the soldiers a few minutes: but moved, seduced, borne away, by the incitements of the people and the hussars, they rushed to the barricadoes, burst them, and were quickly in the arms and in the ranks of the soldiers of Napoleon.

The Count d'Artois, foreseeing this defection, had quitted Lyons, unaccompanied by a single gendarme, but escorted by a detachment of the thirteenth dragoons, commanded by lieutenant Marchebout. It is due to the troops to say, that they did not cease to respect him, and that he ran no risk[54].

[Footnote 54: Marshal Macdonald was not so happy. Two hussars, one of whom was drunk, pursued him, and would have arrested him, if he had not been extricated by his aide-de-camp.]

At five in the evening the whole garrison rushed out to meet Napoleon.

An hour after, the imperial army took possession of the city.

At seven Napoleon made his solemn entry, proceeding alone before his troops, but preceded and followed by an immense crowd, expressing, by incessant acclamations, the intoxication, happiness, and pride, they felt at seeing him again. He alighted at the archbishop's palace, and quietly took his rest in the very places, which the Count d'Artois, yielding to despair, had just watered with his tears.

Napoleon immediately entrusted the guarding of his person, and the interior charge of the palace, to the national guard. He would not accept the services of the horse-guards. "Our institutions," said he to them, "know nothing of national guards on horseback; besides, you behaved so ill with the Count d'Artois, that I will have nothing to say to you."

In fact the Emperor, who had always respected misfortune, had made inquiries concerning the Count d'Artois on his arrival; and had learned, that the nobles, of whom the horse-guards were chiefly composed, after having sworn to the prince to die for him, had deserted him; one excepted, who remained faithfully attached to his escort, till the moment he thought his life and liberty out of all danger.

The Emperor did not confine himself to commendation of the conduct of this generous Lyonese. "I never left a noble action," said he, "without reward:" and he appointed him a member of the Legion of Honour.

I was at Lyons the moment when Napoleon arrived. He knew it, and sent for me that very evening. "Well!" said he to me with a smile, "you did not expect to see me again so soon[55]."—"No, Sire; your Majesty alone is capable of occasioning such surprises."—"What do they say of all this at Paris?"—"Why, Sire, there, as here, they are rejoiced, no doubt, at your Majesty's happy return."—"And public opinion, how is that?"—"Sire, it is greatly changed: formerly we thought of nothing but glory, now we think only of liberty. The struggle that has arisen between the Bourbons and the nation has revealed to us our rights; it has engendered in men's minds a number of liberal ideas, that did not exist in your Majesty's time; people feel, people experience, the necessity of being free; and the most certain means of pleasing the French would be to promise, and to give them, laws truly popular."—"I know that the discussions they[56] have suffered to take place, have diminished the respect for power, and enfeebled it. Liberal ideas have resumed all the ground I had gained for it. I shall not attempt to reconquer it: no one should attempt to contend with a nation; it is the earthen pot against the iron pot. The French shall have reason to be satisfied with me. I know, that there is both pleasure and glory in rendering a great people free and happy. I will give pledges to France: I did not stint it in glory, I will not stint it in liberty. I will retain no farther power than is necessary to enable me to govern. Power is not incompatible with liberty: on the contrary, liberty is never more entire, than when power is well established. When it is weak, it is captious: when it is strong, it sleeps in tranquillity, and leaves the reins loose on the neck of liberty. I know what is requisite for the French; we shall settle that point: but no licentiousness, no anarchy; for anarchy would lead us to the despotism of the republicans, the most fertile of all despotisms in tyrannic acts, because every body takes a share in it.... Do they suppose we shall come to a battle?"—"They do not think it: the government have never had confidence in the soldiery; it has made itself detested by the officers; and all the troops that may be opposed to your Majesty's, will be so many reinforcements sent you."—"I think so too: and the marshals?"—"Sire, they cannot but be apprehensive, that your Majesty will remember Fontainbleau; and perhaps it will be well to remove their fears, and to make known to them personally your Majesty's intention of consigning every thing to oblivion."—"No, I will not write to them; they would consider me as under obligations to them; and I will be obliged to no person. The troops are well disposed, the officers are good, and if the marshals wished to restrain them, they would be hurried along by them ... where is my guard?"—"I believe at Metz and at Nancy."—"Of that I am sure, do what they will, they will never corrupt it. What are Augereau and Marmont about?"—"I do not know."—"What is Ney doing? On what terms is he with the king?"—"Sometimes good, sometimes bad: I believe he has had reason to complain of the court on account of his wife."—"His wife is an affected creature; no doubt she has attempted to play the part of a great lady, and the old dowagers have ridiculed her. Has Ney any command?"—"I do not think he has, Sire."—"Is he one of us?"—"The part he took in your abdication"—"Ay, I read that at Porto Ferrajo: he boasted of having ill-treated me, of having laid his pistols on my table: it was all false. Had he dared to fail of respect to me, I would have ordered him to be shot. A heap of tales has been spread respecting my abdication. I abdicated, not in consequence of their advice, but because my army was out of its senses: besides, I would not have a civil war. It was never to my taste. It was said, that Augereau, when I met him, loaded me with reproaches ... it was a lie: no one of my generals would have dared, in my presence, to forget what was due to me. Had I known of the proclamation of Augereau, I would have forbidden him my presence[57]: cowards only insult misfortune. His proclamation, which I was reported to have had in my pocket, was unknown to me till after our interview. It was General Koller who showed it me; but let us quit these popular rumours. What has been done at the Tuileries?"—"Nothing has been altered, Sire; even the eagles have not yet been removed."—(Smiling) "They must have thought my arrangement of them admirable."—"So I presume, Sire: it has been said, that the Count d'Artois went through all the apartments immediately after his arrival, and could not cease to admire them."—"I can readily believe it. What have they done with my pictures?"—"Some have been taken away, but that of the battle of Austerlitz is still in the council-chamber."—"And the theatre?"—"It has not been touched: it is no longer used."—"What is Talma doing?"—"Why, Sire, he continues to deserve and obtain public applause."—"I shall see him again with pleasure. Have you been at court?"—"Yes, Sire, I have been presented."—"I am told, they all have the air of upstarts of yesterday; that they know not how to utter a word, or take a single step, with propriety: have you seen them on grand public days?"—"No, Sire, but I can assure your Majesty, that people pay as little regard to ceremony at the Tuileries, as at their own homes: they go thither in dirty boots, common frock-coats, and round hats."—"That must have a very majestic appearance. But how do all those old thicksculls spend their money? for every thing has been restored to them."—"But, probably, Sire, they wish to wear out their old clothes."—"Poor France! into what hands hast thou thrust thyself! And the king, what sort of a countenance has he?"—"He has a tolerably fine head."—"Is his coin handsome?"—"Of this your Majesty may judge: here is a twenty-franc piece."—"What! they have not re-coined louis: I am surprised at this. (Turning the piece over) He does not look as if he would starve himself: but observe, they have taken away Dieu protege la France (God protect France), to restore their Domine, salvum fac regem (Lord, preserve the King). This is as they always were: every thing for themselves, nothing for France. Where is Maret? where is Caulincourt? where is Lavalette? where is Fouche?"—"They are all at Paris."—"And Mole?"—"He, too, is at Paris; I observed him a short time ago at the Queen's."—"Have we any persons hereabout, who were nearly attached to me?"—"I do not know, Sire."—"You must inquire, and bring them to me. I should be glad to be thoroughly acquainted with the spirit of the times, and know something of the present state of affairs. What does Hortense do?"—"Sire, her house is still the resort of men, who know how to appreciate wit and elegance: and the Queen, though without a throne, is not less an object of the respect and homage of all Paris."—"She did a very foolish thing, in exhibiting herself as a spectacle before the tribunals. They who advised her to it were blockheads. Why, too, did she go and demand the title of duchess?"—"She, Sire, did not demand it, it was the Emperor Alexander...."—"No matter, she ought not to have accepted, any more than demanded it: she should have called herself Madame Bonaparte: this name is full as good as any other. Besides, what right had she to have her son made a duke of St. Leu, and a peer of the Bourbons? Louis was in the right to oppose it: he was sensible, that the name of her son was sufficiently honourable, not to suffer himself to change it. If Josephine had been alive, she would have prevented her from engaging in such a foolish piece of business. Was she much regretted?"—"Yes, Sire, your Majesty knows how much she was beloved and honoured by the French."—"She deserved it. She was an excellent woman: she had a great deal of sense. I greatly regretted her too, and the day when I heard of her death was one of the most unhappy of my life. Was there a public mourning for her?"—"No, Sire. Indeed I think she would have been refused the honours due to her rank, had not the Emperor Alexander insisted on their being paid her."—"So I heard at the time, but I did not believe it. He was no way interested in it."—"The generosity of Alexander was not confined within any limits: he showed himself the protector of the Empress, the Queen, Prince Eugene, the Duke of Vicenza, and a number of other persons of distinction, who, but for him, would have been persecuted or ill treated."—"You love him, it seems."—"Sire...."—"Is the national guard of Paris well disposed?"—"I cannot positively affirm it; but of this at least I am certain, that if it do not declare for your Majesty, at least it will not act against us."—"I imagine so too. What is it supposed, that the foreigners will think of my return?"—"It is thought, that Austria will connect itself with your Majesty, and that Russia will behold the disgrace of the Bourbons without regret."—"Why so?"—"It is said, Sire, that Alexander was not pleased with the princes while at Paris. That the predilection of the king for England, and his attributing his crown to the Prince Regent, offended him."—"It is well to know that. Has he seen my son?"—"Yes, Sire: I have been assured, that he embraced him with a tenderness truly paternal, and exclaimed: He is a charming fellow: how have I been deceived!"—"What did he mean by that?"—"They say he had been informed, that the young prince was rickety and imbecile."—"Wretches! he is an admirable child: he gives every indication of becoming a distinguished character. He will be an honour to his age. Is it true, that so much was made of Alexander at Paris?"—"Yes, Sire, nobody else was attended to but he: the other sovereigns appeared as if they were his aides-de-camp."—"In fact, he did a great deal for Paris: but for him the English would have ruined it, and the Prussians would have set it on fire.—He acted his part well ... (with a smile) if I were not Napoleon, perhaps I would be Alexander."

[Footnote 55: Those who have been about Napoleon's person know, that he recommended to his secretaries, and the officers of his household, to take notes of what he said and did on his journeys. A number of notes of this nature must have been found at the Tuileries, most of which contained particulars that were highly interesting. I preserved mine, and from them I have composed, in great measure, the present work.]

[Footnote 56: The Bourbons.]

[Footnote 57: The newspapers of the day asserted, that Napoleon, though he had in his pocket the proclamation of Augereau, filled with reproaches and invectives, had thrown himself into his arms, and heard the cutting reprehensions of the marshal, without saying a word.]

The next day he reviewed the division of Lyons in Bellecour Square. "I shall see that square again with pleasure," said he, to the chiefs of the national guard, who stood round him: "I remember, that I raised it from its ruins, and laid the first stone of it fifteen years ago." He went out merely preceded by a few hussars. A crowd of men, old men, women and children, thronged the bridges, the quays, and the streets. They rushed under the horses' feet to hear him, to see him, to have a closer view of him, to touch his garments ... it was an actual delirium. Scarcely had he proceeded a few steps, when the crowd, that had already seen him, ran to another spot, to see him again. The air rung with uninterrupted acclamations. It was a rolling volley of "The nation for ever! The Emperor for ever! Down with the priests! Down with the royalists!" &c.

The division of Brayer, as soon as reviewed, set out on its march to Paris.

When the Emperor returned to the archiepiscopal palace, the great gallery was crowded with generals, colonels, magistrates, and public officers of all ranks and kinds. You might have thought yourselves in the Tuileries.

The Emperor stopped a few minutes: he embraced Generals Mouton Duvernay, Girard, and other officers, whom Paris supposed to be in pursuit of him; and after having distributed on the right and left a few smiles and many compliments, he proceeded to his saloon, and admitted to be presented to him the imperial court, the municipal body, and the chiefs of the military corps and the national guard.

He conversed a long time with them on the faults of the Bourbons, and the deplorable situation in which he found France. He confessed to them with noble frankness, that he was not altogether inculpable for its misfortunes. "I was hurried on," said he, "by the course of events, into a wrong path. But, taught by experience, I have abjured that love of glory, so natural to the French, which has had such fatal consequences to them and to me.... I was mistaken in supposing, that the time was arrived for rendering France the metropolis of a great empire: I have renounced for ever that grand enterprise; we have enough of glory, we want repose.

"It is not ambition, that has brought me back to France: it is the love of the country. I could have preferred the tranquillity of the island of Elba to the cares of a throne, had I not known, that France was unhappy, and had need of me.

"On setting foot on our dear France," continued he, after a few unimportant answers from his auditors, "I made a vow to render it free and happy: I bring nothing to it but benefits. I am returned to protect and defend those interests, to which our revolution has given birth: I return to concur with the representatives of the nation in a family compact, that shall preserve for ever the liberty and the rights of every Frenchman: henceforward it will be my ambition, and my glory, to effect the happiness of the great people from whom I hold every thing. I will not, like Louis XVIII., grant you a revocable charter; I will give you an inviolable constitution, and it shall be the work of the people, as well as of myself."

Such were his words. He pronounced them with an air of such satisfaction, he appeared so confident of himself and of the future, that a man would have thought himself criminal to suspect the purity of his intentions, or to doubt the happiness he was about to secure to France.

The language he held at Lyons we perceive was not the same, as that he had uttered at Gap and at Grenoble. In the last-mentioned towns he sought principally to excite in men's minds hatred of the Bourbons, and the love of liberty: he had spoken as a citizen, rather than a monarch. No formal declaration, not a single word, revealed his intentions. It might as well have been supposed, that he thought of restoring the republic, or the consulship, as the empire. At Lyons, there was no longer any thing vague, any thing uncertain: he spoke as a sovereign, and promised to give a national constitution. The idea of the Champ de Mai had recurred to him.

Not one of us suspected the sincerity of the promises and resolves of Napoleon.

Time, reflection, misfortune, the grand teacher of mankind, had effected the most favourable changes in the principles of Napoleon.

Formerly, when unforeseen obstacles arose, suddenly to thwart his projects, his passions, accustomed to no restraint, to respect no bridle, burst forth with the fury of a raging sea: he spoke, he ordered, he decided, as if he had been master of the earth and of the elements; nothing appeared to him impossible.

After his reverse of fortune, he had learned in the calm of solitude and meditation, to control the violence of his will, and to subject it to the yoke of reason and prudence. He had read attentively the writings, pamphlets, and even libels, published against him: and amid the revilings, calumnies, and absurdities, which they frequently contained, he had found useful truths, judicious observations, and profound views, of which he knew how to benefit himself.

"Princes," observes the learned author of the Spirit of Laws, "have in their lives periods of ambition to which other passions, and even indolence, succeed." Napoleon's hour of indolence was not yet come: but to the ambition of increasing his power without limit, had succeeded the desire of rendering France happy, and of repairing by a durable peace, and a paternal government, all the evils that had been brought upon it by war.

The Emperor spent the evening of the 11th in his closet: his first thought was for the Empress. He wrote her a very tender letter, which began with these remarkable words. "Madam and dear wife, I have re-ascended my throne."

He informed Prince Joseph[58] also, that he had resumed his crown; and directed him to make known to foreign powers, through their ministers to the Helvetic Confederation, that he intended never more to disturb the tranquillity of Europe, and faithfully to maintain the treaty of Paris. He particularly recommended to him, strongly to impress upon Austria and Russia, how desirous he was of re-establishing his former connexions with them in the most intimate manner.

[Footnote 58: He had retired to Switzerland.]

He appeared to set a particular value on the alliance of Russia. His predilection was founded, no doubt, on political motives not difficult to guess; yet I believe he was equally induced to it by Alexander's generous conduct towards the French. The popularity and renown, which this prince had acquired in France, excited, and could not but excite, the jealousy of Napoleon: but this jealousy, the attribute of great minds, did not render him unjust; he knew how to estimate Alexander.

Hitherto Napoleon has been engaged only in depriving the King of his army; he now thought the time was come, to take from him also the sceptre of civil government. "On this I have resolved," said he to me: "I will now annihilate the royal authority, and dismiss the chambers. Since I have resumed the government, no authority but mine ought to exist. The public must be taught from this moment, that they are to obey me alone." He then dictated to me in succession the following decrees, known by the name of the decrees of Lyons.

Lyons, 13th of March, 1815.

NAPOLEON, Emperor of the French, &c. &c.

Considering, that the Chamber of Peers is partly composed of persons who have borne arms against France, and who are interested in the re-establishment of feudal rights, in the destruction of the equality of the different classes, in the nullification of the sale of the national domains, and finally in depriving the people of the rights they have acquired by fighting for five and twenty years against the enemies of the national glory:

Considering, that the powers of the deputies of the legislative body have expired, and that from that moment the Chamber of Commons has no longer a national character; that a part of this chamber has rendered itself unworthy the confidence of the nation, by assenting to the re-establishment of the feudal nobility, abolished by the constitution accepted by the people; by making France pay debts contracted with foreign powers for negotiating coalitions, and paying armies, against the French people; by giving to the Bourbons the title of legitimate King, which was declaring the French people and the armies rebels, proclaiming those emigrants, who for five and twenty years have been wounding the vitals of their country, the only good Frenchmen, and violating all the rights of the people, by sanctioning the principle, that the nation is made for the throne, not the throne for the nation:

We have decreed, and do decree, as follows:

Article I.

The Chamber of Peers is dissolved.

Article II.

The Chamber of Commons is dissolved: it is ordered, that every one of the members convened and arrived at Paris since the 7th of March last shall repair to his home without delay.

Article III.

The electoral colleges of the departments of the empire shall assemble at Paris in the course of the month of May next, in order to take proper measures for correcting and modifying our constitutions agreeably to the interests and will of the nation; and at the same time to assist at the coronation of the Empress, our dear and well-beloved wife, and that of our dear and well-beloved son.

Article IV.

Our Grand Marshal, executing the functions of Major-general of the grand army, is appointed to take necessary measures for making public the present decree.

SECOND DECREE.

NAPOLEON, &c.

Article I.

All the emigrants, whose names have not been erased, amnestied, or eliminated, by us, or by the governments that have preceded us; and who have returned to France since the 1st of January, 1814, shall immediately quit the territory of the empire.

Article II.

Those emigrants, who shall be found in the territory of the empire fifteen days after the promulgation of the present decree, shall be arrested and tried conformably to the laws decreed by our national assemblies: unless however it be proved, that they had no knowledge of the present decree; in which case, they shall merely be arrested, and conducted out of the territory by the gendarmerie.

Article III.

All their property, moveable and immoveable, &c. &c. shall be placed in sequestration.

THIRD DECREE.

NAPOLEON, &c.

Article I.

The nobility is abolished, and the laws of the Constituent Assembly shall be put in force.

Article II.

Feudal titles are suppressed.

Article III.

Those individuals, who have obtained from us national titles, as national rewards, and whose letters patent have been verified before the council by the seal of state, shall continue to bear them.

Article IV.

We reserve to ourselves the power of giving titles to the descendants of those men, who have rendered the French name illustrious in various ages, whether in the command of armies by land and sea, in the councils of sovereigns, in the administration of justice or of civil authority, or finally in the arts and sciences, commerce, &c.

FOURTH DECREE.

NAPOLEON, &c.

Article I.

All those generals and officers by land and sea, of whatever rank, who have been introduced into our armies since the 1st of April, 1814, who had emigrated; or who, not having emigrated, had quitted the service at the period of the first coalition, when the country had the greatest need of their services; shall immediately cease their functions, relinquish the marks of their rank, and repair to their homes, &c. &c.

FIFTH DECREE.

NAPOLEON, &c.

Considering, that by our constitutions the members of the judicial order are not removable, we decree:

Article I.

All the arbitrary changes made in our inferior tribunals and courts are null, and to be considered as having never taken place.

Article II.

The presidents of the court of cassation, our procureur-general (attorney-general), and the members who have been unjustly, and from a spirit of reaction, dismissed from the said court, are restored to their functions, &c. &c.

By four other decrees the Emperor ordered, that the property of the Bourbon family should be placed in sequestration.

That all the property of emigrants, which belonged to the Legion of Honour, hospitals, communes, the sinking fund, or the national domains, should be restored to these different establishments.

That the King's household and the Swiss should be dismissed, and that no foreign corps should be admitted as a guard to the sovereign.

And that the decoration of the lily, and the orders of St. Louis, the Holy Ghost, and St. Michael, should be abolished.

These decrees, which embraced at once every part of the political, civil, and military administration of the state, succeeded each other so rapidly, that Napoleon had scarcely time to interpose a few words between them.

By restoring to their seats those magistrates, who had been expelled from them, he gained with a stroke of the pen all the members of the judicial order; but I know not why he did not extend this beneficial measure to the functionaries of the administrative order, particularly to the prefects and sub-prefects, whom M. de Montesquiou had so cruelly persecuted. Among these functionaries there were unquestionably some, who, from the weakness or incapacity they had shown during the last moments of the imperial government, merited no confidence: but the greater part of them had remained worthy of it; and Napoleon, by placing them at the head of their former offices, would have added to the advantage of publicly repairing an act of royal injustice, that of entrusting the administration to experienced men, and who, already knowing the partisans of the revolution and those of the Bourbons, had only to show themselves, to intimidate the latter, and render effective the patriotism of the former.

With this exception, every thing he did at Lyons appeared to me a master-piece of wisdom and address.

It was necessary, to overturn the Chamber of Peers: he did it at one stroke. "It is composed," said he, "only of men who have borne arms against their country, and who are interested in restoring feudal rights, and annulling the national sales."

The Chamber of Deputies had shown some resistance to the ministers, and attachment to liberal doctrines; it was difficult, therefore, to render it unpopular, yet the Emperor did it by a word: "It has shown itself unworthy of the confidence of the nation, by making the people pay debts contracted with foreigners for the shedding of French blood."

It was necessary, to remove the apprehensions of France respecting the future: he called the electors to the Champ de Mai. It was necessary, to excite the belief, that he had a good understanding with Austria, and that Maria Louisa would be restored to him: he announced the approaching coronation of the Empress and her son.

It was necessary, to seduce the patriots, the republicans: he abolished the feudal nobility; and declared, that the throne was made for the nation, not the nation for the throne. It was necessary, to tranquillize those, who had acquired national domains; he expelled the emigrants not erased from the lists, and resumed their property: to please the peasantry and the poor, he restored to the hospitals the property of which they had been despoiled: to flatter the guard and the army, he expelled from their ranks foreigners and emigrants, dismissed the King's household, and restored to the Legion of Honour its endowments and prerogatives.

Men may censure his conduct at Lyons; may represent it as that of a madman, resolved to alter, to destroy, to overturn every thing: no matter ... they who judge with impartiality, I believe, will find, that he conducted himself with all the skill of a consummate politician. He knew how to inspire confidence, dissipate apprehensions, confirm attachments, and fill the people and the army with enthusiasm: what could he do more?

The steps taken at Paris against him were known to him on the 12th. He appeared delighted, that a command was given to Marshal Ney; not that he held any intelligence with him; but because he knew the weakness and fickleness of his character. He directed the Grand Marshal to write to him. "You will inform him," said he, "of the delirium excited by my return, and of all the forces sent against me having joined my army in succession. You will tell him, that the troops under his command will infallibly follow the example of their brave comrades, sooner or later: and that the efforts he might make would have no farther effect, than at most to retard the fall of the Bourbons a few days. Give him to understand, that he will be responsible to France, and to me, for the civil war and bloodshed, of which he would be the cause. Flatter him," added the Emperor, "but do not caress him too much; he would think me afraid of him, and require to be entreated."

Letters were written also to all the commanders of corps, that were known to be quartered in the neighbouring departments. None of them were in a supplicatory style: the Emperor already spoke as a master; he did not entreat, he commanded.

Every thing being finished, on the 13th Napoleon departed; and profoundly moved with the affection the Lyonese had shown him, he bade them adieu in the following words:

"Lyonese,

"At the moment of quitting your city to repair to my capital, I feel it necessary, to make known to you the sentiments with which you have inspired me: you have always ranked with the foremost in my affections. On the throne or in exile, you have always displayed the same feelings towards me: the lofty character that distinguishes you, has merited my entire esteem: in a period of greater tranquillity, I shall return, to consider the welfare of your manufactures, and of your city.

"Lyonese, I love you."

These last words were the ingenuous expression of his feelings: in dictating, he pronounced them with that indefinable charm, that was impressed on his words when they came from the heart.

So much has been said of the hardness of Napoleon's heart, and the harshness of his language, that whatever is at variance with the received opinion must appear fabulous. Yet it is a truth, and they who have been about the Emperor's person will vouch for it, that he was far from being so unfeeling, as he was commonly thought. His military education, and the necessity of commanding fear and respect, had rendered him grave, severe, and inflexible; and had accustomed him, to check and despise the suggestions of his sensibility. But when nature resumed her rights, he felt a delight in yielding to the movements of his soul, and he then expressed the emotions or sentiments, that had overpowered him, in an ardent and impassioned tone, and with a sweetness and grace, as seducing as it was inimitable.

Indeed the Lyonese merited the esteem and love, that Napoleon avowed for them. Though yet young, I have more than once seen popular displays of enthusiasm and infatuation; yet never did I see any thing comparable to the transports of joy and tenderness, that burst from the Lyonese. Not only the quays, and the places near the palace of the Emperor, but even the most distant streets rung with perpetual acclamations[59]. Workmen and their masters, the common people and the citizens, rambled about the city arm in arm, singing, dancing, and giving themselves up to the impulse of the most ardent gaiety. Strangers stopped one another, shook hands, embraced, and congratulated each other on the return of the Emperor, as if he had conferred on them fortune, life, and honour.

[Footnote 59: The author of a libel entitled Les Quinze Semaines, "The Fifteen Weeks," asserts, that shouts were heard of "Death for ever! Guilt for ever! Down with virtue! Down with God!" Such a charge requires no refutation: I mention it here only to show, to what a point the spirit of party, and the rancorous passions, have misled writers, who call themselves royalists. It has been equally asserted, that the people plundered and destroyed a number of shops and warehouses. This, too, is false: no disorder occurred, except in Bellecour Square, where the people broke the windows and tables of the Bourbon coffee-house, known to be the place where the ultra-royalists assembled; and this disorder was quieted and suppressed immediately.]

The national guard, affected by the confidence he had shown it, by entrusting to it the care of his person, participated with equal ardour the general intoxication; and the day of Napoleon's departure was a day of sorrow and regret to the city of Lyons, as that of his arrival had been a day of real festivity.

We slept at Macon. The Emperor would not alight at the prefect's, but went to lodge at the sign of the Savage. He found it was no longer necessary, to wait at the gates of the towns, as at Grenoble and Lyons: the people and the magistrates ran out to meet him, and disputed the honour of being foremost, to do him homage, and express their good wishes.

The next morning he received the felicitations of the national guard, the municipal body, &c. One of the colleagues of the mayor gave us a long, ridiculous harangue, which amused us much. When he had finished, the Emperor said to him: "You were much astonished, then, at hearing of our having landed?"—"Yes, faith:" answered the orator: "when I knew you had landed, I said to every body, the man must be mad, he will never be able to escape."—Napoleon could not help laughing at this simplicity. "I know," said he, with a sarcastic smile, "that you are all a little inclined to be frightened; you gave me a proof of this last campaign; you should have behaved as the men of Chalons did; you did not maintain the honour of the Burgundians."—"It was not our fault, Sire," said one of the party: "we were badly commanded; you had not given us a good mayor."—"That is very possible; we have all been guilty of foolish actions, and they must be forgotten: the safety and happiness of France are henceforward the only objects, to which we ought to attend." He dismissed them in a friendly manner.

The prefect had taken flight. The Emperor asked me his name. It was one Germain, whom he had made a count, and a gentleman of the bedchamber, without well knowing why. "What!" said he to me, "does that little Germain fancy it necessary to shun me? he must be brought back:" and he thought no more of him.

He directed me, to cause an account of the events at Grenoble and Lyons to be inserted in the newspaper of the department. The editor, a furious royalist, had hidden himself. I entrusted to the new subprefect the business of fulfilling the Emperor's orders; but, whether it were carelessness or incapacity on his part, he had recourse to the printer of the paper, who supplied him with an article far from answering our views.

It began with a very just, but ill-timed eulogy of the goodness of Louis XVIII.; and ended with declaring in substance, that so good a king was not fitted to reign over the French, and that they required a sovereign such as Napoleon, &c.

The Emperor, who would read every thing, asked me for the paper. I pretended I could not lay my hand upon it: but, after a thousand attempts to put him off from seeing it, I was at length obliged to bring it him. I thought he would have given me a severe reprimand, but he contented himself with saying: "Change that man, he is a fool; and desire him for the future, never to attempt a eulogy of me." I sent for him, scolded him, and, like me, he was let off for the fright.

It was at Macon, that we first received official news of what was going on at Paris. It was brought us by M. ***. The unskilful manner in which the royalist party superintended the police of the roads, was truly astonishing. Not one of its emissaries escaped us, while ours went and came without any obstruction. Rage or fear must have turned the brains of all the royalists. M. *** assured the Emperor, that the national guard appeared determined to defend the king, and that the king had declared, he would not quit the Tuileries. "If he choose to wait for me there," said Napoleon, "I have no objection: but I doubt it much. He suffers himself to be lulled by the boastings of the emigrants; and when I get within twenty leagues of Paris, they will abandon him, as the nobles of Lyons abandoned the Count d'Artois. What indeed could he do with the old puppets that are about him? One of our grenadiers would knock down a hundred of them with the butt-end of his musket.... The national guard shouts at a distance; when I am at the barriers it will be silent. Its business is not to raise a civil war, but to maintain peace and order in the country. The majority is sound; there is nothing rotten in it but a few officers; and them I will expel. Return to Paris; tell my friends not to implicate themselves, and within ten days my grenadiers will mount guard at the Tuileries: go."

We arrived at Chalons on the 14th, at an early hour. It was terrible weather, yet the whole population had come out of the city, to see the Emperor a few minutes the sooner. On approaching the walls, he perceived artillery and ammunition waggons, and was surprised at it. "They were intended," said the people, "to act against you; but we have stopped them on their way, and present them to you."—"That's right, my lads; you have always been good citizens."

He was well pleased, to find himself among the Chalonese, and received them with much affection and regard. "I have not forgotten," said he, "that you resisted the enemy for forty days, and valiantly defended the passage of the Saone. Had all the French possessed your courage and patriotism, not a single foreigner would have escaped out of France." He expressed to them his desire of knowing the brave men, who had most distinguished themselves; and on their unanimous testimony, he granted on the spot the decoration of the Legion of Honour to the mayor of St. Jean Delonne. "It was for the brave men like him and you," said he to them, "that I instituted the Legion of Honour, and not for emigrants pensioned by our enemies." When the audience was ended, he said to me: "The mayor of Chalons is not come; yet it was I who appointed him: but he is related to an ancient family, and probably has his scruples. The inhabitants complain of him, and will make him suffer for it. You must go and see him. If he object to you his oath, tell him, that I absolve him from it; and make him sensible, that, if he wait till he is freed from it by Louis XVIII., he will wait a long time. Say to him, in short, what you please; I care little about his visit; it is for his own sake I wish him to come. If he do not come, the people will stone him to death after I am gone. Germain was lucky to escape[60]; let his example be a lesson to him."

[Footnote 60: He attempted to harangue the Chalonese, but they allowed him only time to take to his heels.]

I repaired immediately to the municipality, where I found the mayor, and a few municipal counsellors. He appeared to me a man of merit. I informed him, that it was my usual office, to introduce to his Majesty the municipal authorities; that I had observed with surprise, he had not been as eager as the mayors of other cities, to pay his duty to the Emperor; and that I was come to remove his fears, &c. He answered me frankly, that he had great respect and admiration for Napoleon; but, having sworn fealty to Louis XVIII., he thought it his duty to keep his oath, till he was absolved from it. I had my answer ready. "I, like you," said I, "consider perjury as the most degrading act, of which man can be guilty. But it is necessary, to make a distinction between a voluntary oath, and the stipulated oath, which people take to their government. In the eye of reason, this oath is merely an act of local submission; a pure and simple formality, which the monarch, whoever he may be, has a right to require of his subjects; but which cannot, as it ought not, enchain their persons and faith to perpetuity. France, since 1789, has sworn by turns to be faithful to royalty, to the convention, to the republic, to the directory, to the consulship, to the empire, to the charter: if those Frenchmen, who had taken an oath to royalty, had sought to oppose the establishment of a republic, by way of acquitting themselves of their oaths; if those, who had taken an oath to the republic, had opposed the establishment of the empire, &c.; into what a state of anarchy and disorder, into what a deluge of blood and evils, would they not have plunged our unhappy country? On similar occasions, the national will ought to be the sole guide of our conscience and our actions: the moment it is manifested, it is the duty of good citizens, to yield and obey."

"These principles," replied he, "may be very good as a general rule; but our present case is an exception, never before known. When the governments, that have existed since the revolution, were overturned, the new government seized the authority, and it ought to be presumed, that the assent of the nation was on its side: but here it is a different affair; the royal government subsists; the Emperor abdicated voluntarily; and till the king has renounced the crown, I shall consider him as the sovereign of France."

"If you wait for the king's renunciation," rejoined I, "before you acknowledge the Emperor, you will wait a long time. Has not the king pretended, that he has not ceased to reign over France these five-and-twenty years? And if he thought himself sovereign of France at a time, when the imperial government was rendered legitimate by the unanimous suffrages of France, and acknowledged by all Europe, do you think he will renounce the crown at present?

"The time when kings reigned in virtue of right divine is far removed from us: their rights are no longer founded on any thing but the formal or tacit consent of nations: the moment nations reject them, the contract is broken; the conditional oaths taken to them are annulled in law and in fact, without their intervention or consent being necessary; for, as the proclamations of Napoleon say, kings are made for the people, not the people for kings.

"As to the abdication of Napoleon, whether voluntary or compulsive, and the rights newly acquired by Louis XVIII., it would be requisite, in order to answer this part of your objections, to inquire, whether the chief of a nation have a right to relinquish the authority entrusted to him, without the consent of that nation; and whether a government imposed by foreigners, either through influence or force of arms, unite those characters of legitimacy, which you ascribe to it. I have read in our publicists, that we owe obedience to a government de facto: and since the Emperor has in fact resumed the sceptre, I think we cannot do better, than submit to his laws; with the proviso," added I jocularly, "of leaving to posterity the task of deciding the question of right between Napoleon and Louis XVIII.

"However," continued I, "I leave you perfectly at liberty to embrace which side you judge best: it is not my intention to take you by surprise, or to put any violence on your conscience; and I beg you to consider the attempts I have made to convince you, only as a proof of my desire to bring you over to my opinion by the force of reason."

"Well, sir," said he, "I yield to your observations: be so good as to announce me to his Majesty."

The next day he was displaced!

On the 16th we slept at Avalon. Napoleon was received there as he had been every where; that is to say, with demonstrations of joy, that were actually bordering on madness. People crowded, thronged, to see, to hear, to speak to him; his quarters were instantly surrounded, besieged, by such a numerous and obstinate multitude, that it was impossible for us to enter or go out, without walking on the heads of all the population of the country. Those men who made part of the national guard would remain on duty from morning to night. Women of the greatest distinction in the place spent the day and night on the stairs and in the passages, to watch for his going by. Three of them, tired with standing the whole day for want of seats, requested permission to sit down by us: it was in the hall (adjoining the Emperor's chamber), in which some mattresses had been laid on the floor, in order that we might gain a few minutes' rest. It was pleasant enough, to see these three young and elegant Bonapartists timidly huddling together on a little couch in the midst of our dirty guardroom. We endeavoured to keep them company but our eyes closed in spite of us. "Go to sleep," said they to us, "we will watch over the Emperor." In fact, fatigue got the better of gallantry; and, to our shame be it spoken, we were soon asleep at their feet. When we awoke, we found one of these ladies keeping guard at Napoleon's door. We heard of it, and thanked her for her attachment, in very polite and pleasing terms.

I think it was at Avalon[61], that an officer of the staff came and brought us Marshal Ney's submission, and his orders of the day[62]. These orders of the day were printed that night; but the Emperor, after having read them over, directed them to be changed and reprinted. I know not whether his Majesty judged it proper to alter them, or whether the printer had made any mistake.

[Footnote 61: I dare not positively affirm it, for in my memorandums I have confounded together Chalons, Avalon, &c.]

[Footnote 62:

ORDERS OF THE DAY.

The Marshal Prince of the Moskowa, to the troops of his Government.

Officers, non-commissioned officers, and soldiers!

The cause of the Bourbons is lost for ever. The legitimate dynasty, which the French nation has adopted, is about to re-ascend the throne: it belongs to the Emperor Napoleon alone, our sovereign, to reign over our fine country. Whether the nobility of the Bourbons take the step of expatriating itself again, or consent to live among us, is no concern of ours. The sacred cause of liberty, and of our independence, will no longer suffer from their fatal influence. They have endeavoured to debase our military glory; but they have found themselves mistaken. This glory is the fruit of labours too noble for us to lose the remembrance of it. Soldiers! those days are no more, when nations were governed by stifling their rights. Liberty is at length triumphant and Napoleon, our august Emperor, is about to confirm it for ever. Henceforth let this lovely cause be ours, and that of all Frenchmen: let all the brave fellows, whom I have the honour to command, be thoroughly imbued with this grand truth.

Soldiers! I have often led you to victory; I am now going to conduct you to that immortal phalanx, which the Emperor Napoleon is conducting to Paris, and which will be there in a few days, and our hopes and our happiness will be for ever realized. Long live the Emperor!

Lons le Saulnier, the 13th of March, 1815. The marshal of the empire, PRINCE OF THE MOSKOWA.]

On the 17th the Emperor arrived at Auxerre, where he was received for the first time by a prefect. He alighted at the prefect's house. On the mantel-piece of the first saloon were the busts of the Empress, and of her son; and in the next was a whole-length portrait of Napoleon, in his imperial robes: it might have been supposed, that the reign of the Emperor had never been interrupted.

Napoleon immediately received the congratulations of all the authorities, and of the tribunals. These congratulations began to be no longer a mark of attachment in our eyes, but the fulfilment of a duty. After having discoursed with them on the grand interests of the state, the Emperor, whose good humour was inexhaustible, began to joke about the court of Louis XVIII. "His court," said he, "has the air of that of King Dagobert: we see nothing in it but antiques; the women are old and frightfully ugly; there were no pretty women in it but mine, and those were so ill-treated, that they were obliged to desert it. All those people are made up of nothing but haughtiness and pride: I have been reproached with being proud; I was so to strangers; but never did any one see me suffer my chancellor to set one knee to the ground to receive my orders, or oblige my prefects and mayors to wait at table on my courtiers and dowagers[63]. They say, that the men about the court are little better than the women; and that, to distinguish them from my generals, whom I had covered with gold lace, they are dressed like beggars. My court, it is true, was superb: I was fond of magnificence; not for myself, a plain soldier's coat was sufficient for me; I was fond of it, because it encourages our manufactures: without magnificence there is no industry. I abolished at Lyons all that parchment nobility; it was never sensible of what it owed me: it was I that exalted it, by making counts and barons of my best generals. Nobility is a chimera; men are too enlightened to believe, that some among them are noble, others not: they all spring from the same stock; the only distinction is that of talents, and of services rendered the state: our laws know no others."

[Footnote 63: He alluded to the installation of the council of state, where the chancellor actually dropped on one knee, to ask and receive the King's orders.

And to the city entertainment, where the prefect, his wife, and the municipal body, waited at table on the King and his suite, consisting of forty ladies of the old court, and only four ladies of the new nobility, two of whom were the wives of the marshals on duty.]

The Emperor imagined, that he should find Ney at Auxerre on his arrival: "I cannot conceive," said he to General Bertrand, "why Ney is not here: I am surprised at it, and uneasy: has he changed his opinions? I cannot think so; he would never have suffered Gamot[64] to implicate himself. Yet we must know on what we are to depend; see to it." A few hours after, the marshal arrived. It was about eight o'clock, and Count Bertrand came to inform the Emperor of it. "The marshal, before he comes into your Majesty's presence," said he, "is desirous of collecting his ideas, and justifying in writing his conduct both previous and subsequent to the events of Fontainbleau."—"What need is there of any justification to me?" answered Napoleon: "tell him, that I love him still, and that I will embrace him to-morrow." He would not receive him the same day, as a punishment for having had to wait for him.

[Footnote 64: M. Gamot, prefect of Auxerre, had married the sister of Madame Ney.]

The next day the Emperor, as soon as he perceived him, said: "Embrace me, my dear marshal; I am glad to see you. I want no explanation or justification: I have honoured and esteemed you as the bravest of the brave."—"Sire, the newspapers have told a heap of lies, which I wish to confute: my conduct has ever been that of a good soldier, and a good Frenchman."—"I know it, and accordingly never doubted your attachment."—"You were right, Sire. Your Majesty may always depend upon me, when my country is concerned.... It is for my country I have shed my blood, and for it I would still spill it to the last drop. I love you, Sire, but my country above all! above all."—(The Emperor interrupting him) "It is patriotism too, that brings me to France. I learned, that our country was unhappy, and I am come to deliver it from the emigrants and the Bourbons. I will confer upon it all that it expects from me."—"Your Majesty may be assured, that we will support you: he who acts with justice, may do what he pleases with the French. The Bourbons have ruined themselves, by having wished to act as they thought proper, and thrown aside the army."—"Princes who never saw a naked sword could not honour the army: its glory humbled them, and they were jealous of it."—"Yes, Sire, they incessantly sought to humiliate us. I am still enraged, when I think, that a marshal of France, an old warrior like me, was obliged to kneel down before that ... of a Duke of B..... to receive the cross of St. Louis. It could not last; and, if you had not come to expel them, we should have driven them out ourselves[65]."—"How are your troops disposed?"—"Very well, Sire; I thought they would have stifled me, when I announced to them, that they were about to march to meet your eagles."—"What generals are with you?"—"Le Courbe and Bourmont."—"Are you sure of them?"—"I will answer for Le Courbe, but I am not so sure of Bourmont."—"Why are they not come hither?"—"They showed some hesitation, and I left them."—"Are you not afraid of Bourmont's bestirring himself, and embarrassing you?"—"No, Sire, he will keep himself quiet: besides, he would find nobody to second him. I have expelled from the ranks all the light infantry of Louis XIV.[66], who had been given to us, and all the country is fired with enthusiasm."—"No matter, I shall not leave him any possibility of disturbing us: you will direct him and the royalist officers to be secured till we enter Paris. I shall be there without doubt by the 20th or 25th, and sooner. If we arrive, as I hope, without any obstacle, do you think they will defend themselves"—"I do not think they will, Sire: you know what the Parisians are, more noise than work."—"I have received despatches from Paris this morning: the patriots expect me with impatience, and are on the point of rising. I am afraid of some quarrel taking place between them and the royalists. I would not for the world, that my return should be stained with a single drop of blood. It is easy for you, to hold communication with Paris: write to your friends, write to Maret, that our affairs go on well, that I shall arrive without firing a single musket; and let them all unite, to prevent the spilling of blood. Our triumph should be as pure, as the cause we serve." Generals Bertrand and Labedoyere, who were present, then mixed in the conversation; and after a few minutes the Emperor left them, and retired into his closet.

[Footnote 65: It is indisputable, in fact, that a general insurrection, provoked by the oppressive and senseless conduct of the government, was ready to burst out, at the moment when Napoleon re-appeared.

It is known, that France, wearied, disgusted, and discontented with the new order of things, wished heartily for a new revolution; and people had united and concerted measures for preparing the crisis, and causing it to turn to the advantage of the country.

Some of the malecontents maintained, that the first step should be, to shake off the insupportable yoke, under which they were groaning, and then see what was to be done: the majority formally declared for the immediate recall of the Emperor, and were desirous, that emissaries should be deputed to him, or that vessels should be sent, to take him off from the island of Elba.

The necessity of a change was unanimously agreed upon, and they were endeavouring to settle the rest, when the sudden arrival of Napoleon put an end to the discussion.

After the 20th of March, the Emperor was made acquainted with these projects of insurrection; and knew that certain chiefs hesitated about having any thing to do with him. "The leaders," said he, "wished to take the business into their own hands, and labour for themselves; now they pretend, that they opened the way for me to Paris: I know better; it was the nation, the people, the soldiers, and the sub-lieutenants, who did all. It is to these, and to these only, that I owe every thing."]

[Footnote 66: A nickname given to the emigrant officers.]

He wrote to the Empress for the third time. This letter finished, Napoleon turned his thoughts to the means of embarking a part of his army, harassed by forced marches. He sent for the chief of the boat department, required an account of the number of boats, the means of preventing accidents, &c. He entered so minutely into particulars with him, that the man could scarcely recover from his surprise, or comprehend how an Emperor should know so much as a boatman. Napoleon persisted in the speedy departure of his troops. Several times he ordered me to go and hasten the embarkation: he was in the habit of employing those about him for every thing that came into his head. His genius knowing no bounds, he imagined, that we poor mortals ought equally to know every thing, and do every thing.

The Emperor had given orders to his scouts, to bring him all the mails; and he had appointed me, to examine their contents. I waged implacable war with the correspondence of ministers; and if I frequently found in it threats and abuse, of which I came in for my share, it presented me at least with matters as important as curious. I particularly remarked two secret instructions, the publication of which, even now, would cover their authors with eternal disgrace. The letters comme il faut were equally revolting. Most of them, dictated by frantic hatred, might have sanctioned the rigours of the law: but I considered them as the offspring of brains to be pitied for their diseased state, and contented myself with writing on them in large letters, before I returned to the post-boy, a Seen; which, like the head of Medusa, no doubt petrified more than one noble reader.

The darksome conspiracies of the enemies of Napoleon were not the only objects, that met my indiscreet eyes. Sometimes I found myself unintentionally initiated into gentler mysteries and my pen, by mistake, traced the fatal Seen at the bottom of epistles, which should have charmed the sight only of the happy mortals, for whom love had destined them.

It was from the newspapers, and the private correspondence, we learned, that some Vendeans were set off from Paris, according to their own account, with the design of assassinating the Emperor. A paper, which it is unnecessary to name, even said, that these gentlemen were disguised as soldiers, and as women, and that most assuredly the Corsican could not escape them.

Though Napoleon did not appear to be uneasy about these criminal plots, we were under apprehensions for him. Previously, when travellers were desirous of telling him news, I stepped aside to enjoy a few minutes' liberty: but from that time I never quitted him, and, with my hand on my sword, I never for a moment lost sight of the eyes, attitude, and gesture of the persons I admitted to his presence.

Count Bertrand, General Drouot, and the officers of his household, equally redoubled their care and attention. But it seemed as if the Emperor made a point of setting his murderers at defiance. That very day he reviewed the 14th of the line in the public square, and afterwards mixed with the people and the soldiers. In vain did we endeavour to surround him; we were jostled with so much perseverance and impetuosity, that it was impossible for us to remain close to him for two minutes together. The way in which we were elbowed amused him extremely: he laughed at our efforts, and, in order to brave us, plunged himself still deeper amid the crowd that besieged us.

Our mistrust was nearly fatal to two of the enemy's emissaries.

One of them, a staff officer, came to offer us his services. Being questioned, he scarcely knew what answers to make. His embarrassment had already excited violent suspicions, when it was unfortunately perceived, that he had on green pantaloons. This was sufficient to convince every body, that he was one of the Artois guards in disguise. Interrogated anew, he answered still more awkwardly; and, attainted and convicted of being a highly suspicious person, and of wearing green pantaloons to boot, he was on the point of being thrown out of the window, when fortunately Count Bertrand happened to pass by, and ordered him merely to be turned out at the door.

This officer of the new batch had not come to kill Napoleon; he had only been sent to spy what passed at his head-quarters.

The same day witnessed another scene. A chef d'escadron of hussars, adorned with a sabre-cut in the face, came also to join us. He met an extraordinarily good reception, and was even invited to breakfast at the table of the great officers of the household. In wine there is truth; and the new comer, forgetting his part, explained himself so clearly, that it was easy to distinguish in him a false brother. He told us, that the national guard of Paris, and all the imperial guard, were for the King: that every soldier, who retained his fidelity, had a gift of a hundred francs, every officer a thousand, and was promoted a step, &c. &c; that Napoleon had been outlawed, and that if he were taken.... At these words Colonel ***, who sat next him, seized him by the collar; every body was for knocking him on the head at once; I alone was against it. "Gentlemen," said I, "the Emperor will not hear of any blood being shed; you have sworn to give no quarter to assassins, but this man is not one; he is no doubt a spy. We are not afraid of them; let them go, and report what they have seen to those who have sent them: let us all drink the health of our Emperor, Long live the Emperor!" He was spitten upon, turned out, and we saw him no more.

Another deserter from the royal army presented himself, to reveal an important secret, as he said, to the Emperor. The Emperor, who knew no secret but strength, would not waste time in listening to him, and sent him to me. He was an officer of hussars, the friend and accomplice of Maubreuil. He did not think me worthy of his secrets, and I introduced him to the grand Marshal. The substance of what he said was, that he, as well as Maubreuil, had been commissioned by the provisional government, and by very great persons, to assassinate the Emperor, at the time of his departure for the island of Elba: that he held in execration such an execrable crime, and would not commit it; and that, after having once saved the life of Napoleon, he came to place himself near his person, to make a rampart for him with his body in case of necessity. He delivered to the grand Marshal a memorial of Maubreuil's, and divers papers, of which the Emperor directed me to give him an account. I examined them all with the greatest care. They proved incontestably, that mysterious rendezvous had been given to Maubreuil in the name of the provisional government; but they contained no clue, that could enable any one to penetrate the object and end of these secret conferences: the names of those illustrious personages, whom some persons have since been desirous of implicating in this odious plot, were not even mentioned in them. This officer reaped no benefit from his disclosures, real or pretended, and disappeared.

From hearing so much of plots against his life, however, a painful impression was at length made on the Emperor. "I cannot conceive," said he to me, "how men liable to fall into my hands can be incessantly urging my assassination, and setting a price upon my head. Had I wished to get rid of them by similar means, they would long ago have been mingled with the dust. Like them, I could have found Georges, Brularts, and Maubreuils. Twenty times, if I had wished it, persons would have brought them to me bound hands and feet, dead or alive. I had always the foolish generosity, to despise their rage: I despise it still; but wo betide them, wo to all their infernal gang, if they dare touch one of my people! My blood boils, when I think, that they have dared, in the face of nations, to proscribe without trial the thousands of Frenchmen, who are marching with us: is this known to the army?"—"Yes, sire, some persons have had the imprudence, to spread the report, that we are all proclaimed out of the protection of the laws, and that some of the body guards and Chouans have set out to assassinate you: accordingly, the troops have sworn, to give them no quarter, and already two spies have with difficulty escaped being knocked on the head before my eyes."—"So much the worse, so much the worse; such are not my intentions. I wish not a single drop of French blood to be shed, not a single gun to be fired. Girard[67] must be desired to restrain his soldiers; write: "General Girard, I am informed, that your troops, being acquainted with the decrees of Paris, have resolved, by way of reprisals, to kill all the Royalists they meet: you will meet none but Frenchmen; I forbid you to fire a single musket: calm your soldiers; contradict the reports by which they are exasperated; tell them, that I will not enter Paris at their head, if their weapons be stained with French blood[68].""

[Footnote 67: He had just been appointed to the command of the advanced guard.]

[Footnote 68: Napoleon had already given similar orders to General Cambronne. The following is his letter, which I reproach myself with not having quoted. "General Cambronne, to you I entrust my noblest campaign: all the French expect me with impatience: every where you will find none but friends: do not fire a single musket; I will not have my crown cost the French a drop of blood."]

Ministers of the King, guilty authors of the parricidal ordinance of the 6th of March, read this and blush!

The moment he was quitting Auxerre, the Emperor heard, that the Marseillese appeared to have an intention of annoying his rear. He gave orders to the general posted in echelon on the road, and set out without fear.

In advance of Fossard, he perceived, drawn up in order of battle, the dragoons of the King's regiment, who had deserted their officers, to come and join him. He alighted, saluted them with that military gravity, which so well became him, and bestowed on them compliments and promotions. No regiment could escape us. When the officers demurred, the soldiers came without them. I am wrong, however: there was one regiment, the third of hussars, that the Emperor could not bring over to him. The brave Moncey, who commanded it, was a man of sound understanding, and his attachment to Napoleon, his ancient benefactor, could not be doubted: but all men do not see with the same eyes; some made their duty consist in running to meet Napoleon, Moncey thought himself obliged to avoid him.

He had conjured his regiment, not to subject him to the disgrace of being deserted. His officers and his hussars, by whom he was adored, followed him, while they made the air ring with shouts of Long live the Emperor! thinking thus to reconcile their respect for their colonel with their devotion to the cause and person of Napoleon.

We were informed on the road, that two thousand of the body guards were posted in the forest of Fontainbleau. Though this account was improbable, it was thought necessary, not to cross the forest without precaution. At our urgent solicitation, the Emperor took about two hundred horse to accompany him. Hitherto his only escort had been the carriage of General Drouot, which preceded his, and mine, which closed the march. Colonels Germanouski and Du Champ, Captain Raoul, and three or four Polanders, galloped by the side of them. Our horses, our postillions, our couriers, with tricoloured ribands, gave our peaceable party an air of festivity and happiness, that formed a singular contrast to the proscription suspended over our heads, and to the mourning and despair of the men who had proscribed us.

We marched almost all night, as the Emperor was desirous of reaching Fontainbleau at break of day. I observed, that I thought it would be imprudent in him, to alight at the castle. "You are a child," answered he; "if any thing be to happen to me, all these precautions would be of no avail. Our fate is written above:" and he pointed with his finger to the sky[69].

[Footnote 69: Napoleon was a fatalist, and superstitious; and made no secret of it. He believed in lucky and unlucky days. We might be astonished at this weakness, if we did not know, that it was common to the greatest men both of ancient and modern times.]

I had imagined, that the sight of the palace of Fontainbleau, the place where he had so lately descended from the throne, and where he now re-appeared as conqueror and sovereign, would make some impression on him, and impel him to think of the fragility of human grandeur. I watched him attentively; but he did not appear to me, to experience any emotion. Immediately on his arrival, he rambled over the gardens and the palace with as much pleasure and curiosity, as if he came to take possession of them for the first time. Napoleon occupied the little apartments, and complaisantly made me notice their extreme elegance. He then led me to his library, and in going up, said with an air of satisfaction, "We shall be very well here."—"Yes, sire," answered I, "people are always well at home." He smiled, and I believe was pleased with my well-timed compliment.

At eleven o'clock he dictated to me the orders of the day; and these orders announced, that we should sleep at Essonne. It was not till noon, that the news of the King's departure was brought at once by a courier from M. de Lavalette, by a letter from Madame Hamalin, and by M. de Seg.... He sent for me immediately. "You will set out first," he said, "to get every thing ready."—"It is to Essonne, I presume, your Majesty orders me to repair?"—"No, to Paris. The King and the Princes have fled. I shall be at the Tuileries this evening." He gave me some secret directions, and I quitted Fontainbleau with a heart full of happiness and joy. I had never doubted Napoleon's triumph; but from hope to reality how great the distance!

In fact the King had quitted Paris.

The aspect of affairs had never changed since the royal session of the 17th of March. The minister, persevering in his system of falsehood and dissimulation, still distorted the truth with the same impudence, and did not cease to predict the approaching destruction of Napoleon and his adherents. At length, after a thousand subterfuges, it became necessary to confess, that Napoleon was within a few leagues of Paris. The King, whom the minister had not been afraid to deceive, had scarcely time to think of retreating. In this painful situation, he displayed a strength of mind above all praise. His courage was not that of a warlike prince, who defends his capital inch by inch, and trembles with rage and despair when forced to quit it; but that of a good father, who separates himself with regret from his children, and from the roof under which they were born. The Bonapartists themselves, who made a great distinction between the king and his family, were not insensible to the tears of that august and unfortunate monarch, and sincerely prayed, that his flight might be exempted from danger and trouble.

It was supposed, that Napoleon would make a triumphal entry into his capital. His old grenadiers, who had marched in seventeen days a distance that would commonly require five-and-forty, seemed, as they approached their object, to acquire fresh strength at every step. On the road you might see them in agitation, pressing upon and encouraging one another. They would have marched twenty leagues in an hour, if necessary, not to be deprived of the honour of entering Paris by the side of Napoleon. Their hopes were disappointed: the Emperor, who had witnessed their fatigues, ordered them to take a day's rest at Fontainbleau.

At two o'clock on the 20th of March, Napoleon set out for Paris. Retarded by the crowd, that accumulated on his way, and by the felicitations of the troops and the generals, who had run to meet him, he could not reach it till nine in the evening. As soon as he alighted, the people rushed on him; a thousand arms lifted him up, and carried him along in triumph. Nothing could be more affecting than the confused assembly of the crowd of officers and generals, who had pressed into the apartments of the Tuileries at the heels of Napoleon. Happy to see themselves once more triumphant, after so many vicissitudes, humiliations, and disgusts, they forgot the majesty of the place, to give themselves up without constraint to the desire of expressing their happiness and joy. They ran to one another, and hugged each other again and again. The halls of the palace seemed metamorphosed into a field of battle, where friends, brothers, unexpectedly escaped from death, found and embraced one another after victory.

We had been so spoiled on the road, however, that the Emperor's reception by the Parisians did not answer our expectations. Multiplied shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" saluted him on his way; but they wanted those characters of unanimity and frenzy, which were displayed by the acclamations, that had accompanied him from the gulf of Juan to the gates of Paris. It would be a mistake, however, to infer, that the Parisians did not behold the return of Napoleon with pleasure. We must only conclude, therefore, that the Emperor missed the proper time for his entrance.

The people of great cities are eager for sights: to move their hearts, you must astonish their eyes. If Napoleon, instead of traversing Paris in the evening, and without being announced or expected, had put it off till the next day, and allowed the disquietudes inseparable from such a crisis time to be allayed; if he had given his entrance the pomp and splendour it ought to have had; if he had caused the troops and half-pay officers, who had hastened to his call, to march before him; if he had presented himself at the head of his grenadiers of the island of Elba, with all their decorations; if he had been surrounded by Generals Bertrand, Drouot, Cambronne, and the faithful companions of his exile; this grand and affecting train would have produced the most lively sensation, and the whole population of Paris would have applauded the return and the triumph of Napoleon. Instead of those unanimous transports, he received only the applauses of the populous part of the capital, that he had occasion to traverse; and his detractors did not fail, to compare this reception with that of Louis XVIII., and to publish, that he was obliged to enter Paris by night, in order to escape the maledictions and vengeance of the public. Napoleon, who had just travelled two hundred and fifty leagues amid the acclamations of two millions of Frenchmen, could not be agitated by any such fears; but it is well known with what confidence, what intoxication, he was inspired by the anniversary of a victory or happy event; and as the 20th of March was the birthday of his son, he determined at all events to enter the capital under such fortunate auspices.

The very evening of his arrival, Napoleon had a long conversation with the Duke of Otranto, and the other dignitaries of the state, on the situation of France. They all appeared intoxicated with happiness and hope. The Emperor himself could not disguise his rapture: never did I see him so madly gay, or so prodigal of boxes on the ear.[70] His conversation savoured of the agitation of his heart: the same words incessantly recurred to his tongue; and, it must be confessed, they were not very flattering to the crowd of courtiers and great personages, who already besieged him: he was continually saying: "It was the disinterested persons, who brought me back to Paris; the sub-lieutenants and soldiers did every thing; I owe all to the people and the army."

[Footnote 70: This was Napoleon's favourite compliment. The fonder he was of a person, the more he gave him, and the harder he struck.]

That night and the following morning the Emperor was busied in the choice and nomination of his ministers.

At their head Prince Cambaceres found himself placed. The system of defamation directed against him had not altered the high consideration, which he had acquired by his great wisdom, and constant moderation. The Emperor offered him the port-folio of the minister of justice, and was obliged to command him to accept it. His sagacity and foresight, no doubt, presaged the fatal issue of the new reign of Napoleon.

The Prince of Eckmuhl was named minister of war. By the harshness of his manners, by acts of severity almost barbarous, he had formerly drawn upon himself universal animadversions; his fidelity to the Emperor, and his defence of Hamburgh, had subsequently conciliated public opinion. The feebleness and versatility of his character indeed excited some apprehensions; but it was hoped, that the Emperor would know how to master him, and that the army would derive happy advantages from his indefatigable zeal, and his strict probity.

The Duke of Vicenza[71] was placed at the helm of foreign affairs. The rectitude of his principles, the firmness, nobleness, and independence of his character, had justly acquired him the esteem of France and of Europe; and his appointment was considered as a pledge of the loyal and pacific intentions of Napoleon.

[Footnote 71: The Duke of Vicenza, convinced of the inutility of the efforts Napoleon might make, to establish any diplomatic connexion with foreign powers, refused to accept the post. The Emperor offered it to M. Mole. M. Mole objected, that he was an entire stranger to diplomacy, and requested Napoleon, to make another choice. Napoleon and his other ministers were then so pressing with the Duke of Vicenza, that he considered it his duty to yield. He would have preferred the Emperor's giving him a command in the army, where he would at least have found an opportunity of usefully serving his country and the Emperor.

The ministry of the interior, intended at first for M. Costaz, was also offered to M. Mole, and ultimately given to M. Carnot, at the recommendation of the Duke of Bassano.

The Emperor was not pleased with the obstinate refusals of M. Mole: he was fond of his name, and valued his talents. He had intended to appoint him governor of the Imperial Prince; and it was to this intention that M. Mole was chiefly indebted for the high rank, to which he had been so rapidly raised.

Nevertheless M. Mole solicited and obtained the general superintendance of highways and bridges, a post which he occupied in 1813, before he was appointed minister of justice.]

The Duke of Gaeta and Count Mollien became again ministers of the finances and the treasury. They had obtained the confidence of the public by the ability, prudence, and integrity of their preceding administration; and the choice of them met with general applause.

The Duke of Otranto had the charge of the police. He had been at the helm of the state in circumstances of difficulty and peril; he had learned to form a sound judgment of the public mind, and to foresee, prepare, and guide events. Having belonged to all parties in succession, he knew their tactics, their resources, their pretensions; and the whole nation, convinced of his experience, talents, and patriotism, hoped, that he would successfully concur in the safety of the Emperor and the empire.

The recall of the Duke of Bassano to the ministry, as secretary of state, displeased the court, and also those credulous people, who, having no opinions but what are suggested to them, adopt praise and blame without discernment.

Few men have been so ill treated, as this minister.

Every one has taken pleasure in disfiguring his character and even his features.

The Duke of Bassano had an open countenance, an agreeable manner of conversation, a politeness always uniform, a dignity sometimes affected, but never offensive, with a natural propensity to esteem men, courtesy in obliging them, and perseverance in serving them. The favour he enjoyed was at first the reward of unexampled readiness in business; of indefatigable activity; of pure intentions, lofty views, probity, proof against all temptation, and I will even add an iron constitution; for physical strength also was a quality in the eyes of Napoleon. Subsequently it became the just return for an attachment not to be shaken; an attachment, which, by its force, vivacity, and constancy, seemed to be a compound of love and friendship.

I must own, I believe, that M. de Bassano most frequently shared and approved without exception the opinions of the Emperor; but it was not from interested or base motives: the Emperor was the idol of his heart, the object of his admiration: with such sentiments, how was it possible for him, to perceive the errors and faults of Napoleon? Besides, having continually to express the ideas of the Emperor, and to imbue himself as it were with the emanations of his spirit, he had identified himself with his way of thinking and of viewing things, and saw and thought as he did with the most perfect sincerity. Not but that he sometimes differed from him in opinion; yet whatever efforts he made, he always yielded ultimately to the irresistible ascendancy, that the genius of Napoleon exercised over him, as it did over every other person.