Chapter X: Part 10

“It will perhaps be asked whether Napoleon was duped by this Congress and the circumstances arising out of it. The answer is that he was not, or at least not entirely. If he had not a knowledge of every fact, he was never for a moment mistaken as to the intentions and sentiments that were really entertained.

“Napoleon, from the moment of his first victory at Lutzen, had authentically proposed a general congress. This he conceived to be the only means of treating for a general peace, insuring the independence of France, and the guarantee of the modern system. Every other mode of negotiation appeared to him merely a lure; and if he seemed to depart from this principle, in accepting the mediation of Austria, and agreeing to the conferences at Prague, it was because, as time advanced, affairs became more complicated. The defeat of Vittoria, the evacuation of Spain, and the spirit of the French people, which was declining, had considerably diminished his prosperity. He anticipated the result of the negotiations: but he wished to gain time, in his turn, and to await the course of events. He was not deceived as to the part which Austria would act; and, without knowing precisely how far she would carry her deception, he could well discern, from her mysterious conduct and delays, what was likely to be her determination. At Dresden, he had even had personal conversations with the first negotiator of the Austrian government, who had sufficiently indicated the line of conduct he intended to pursue. The Emperor having remarked that he had, after all, eight hundred thousand men to oppose the enemy, the negotiator eagerly added, ‘Your Majesty may say twelve hundred thousand; for you may, if you please, join our force to your own.’ But what was to be the price of this advantage? Nothing less than the restitution of Illyria, the cession of the Duchy of Warsaw, the frontier of the Inn, &c. ‘And after all,’ said the Emperor, ‘what should I have gained by this? Had we made all these concessions, should we not have been humbling ourselves for nothing, and furnishing Austria with the means of making farther demands, and afterwards opposing us with greater advantage?’ He never relinquished the idea that the true interests of Austria being closely connected with our danger, we should be more certain of regaining her by our misfortunes than of securing her by our concessions. Napoleon was therefore deaf to every demand; but he had so little doubt of the engagements which Austria had already contracted with our enemies that he is described as having said, half good-humouredly and half indignantly, to the Austrian negotiator: ‘Come now, confess: tell me how much they have paid you for this.’”

How severely did Napoleon suffer on this occasion! What trials of patience did he not undergo! And yet he was accused at the time of not wishing for peace! “How was I perplexed,” said he, “when conversing on this subject, to find myself the only one to judge of the extent of our danger and to adopt means to avert it. I was harassed on the one hand by the coalesced Powers, who threatened our very existence, and on the other by the spirit of my own subjects, who in their blindness, seemed to make common cause with them; by our enemies, who were labouring for my destruction, and by the importunities of my people and even my Ministers, who urged me to throw myself on the mercy of foreigners. And I was obliged to keep up a bold look in this embarrassing situation: to reply haughtily to some, and sharply to rebuff others, who created difficulties in my rear, encouraged the mistaken course of public opinion, instead of seeking to give it a proper direction, and suffered me to be tormented by demands for peace, when they ought to have proved that the only means of obtaining it was to urge me ostensibly to war.

“However, my determination was fixed. I awaited the result of events, firmly resolved to enter into no concessions or treaties which could present only a temporary reparation, and would inevitably have been attended by fatal consequences. Any middle course must have been dangerous; there was no safety except in victory, which would have preserved my power, or in some catastrophe, which would have brought back my allies.”

I beg to call the reader’s attention to this last idea, which I have already noticed on a former occasion. It will perhaps be thought I attach great importance to it; but this is because I feel the necessity of rendering it intelligible. Though I now enter into it completely, yet it was long before I understood it, and it appeared to me paradoxical and subtle.

“In what a situation was I placed!” continued the Emperor. “I saw that France, her destinies, her principles, depended on me alone!”—“Sire!” I ventured to observe, “this was the opinion generally entertained; and yet some parties reproached you for it, exclaiming, with bitterness, Why would he connect every thing with himself personally?”—“That was a vulgar accusation,” resumed the Emperor warmly. “My situation was not one of my own choosing, nor did it arise out of any fault of mine; it was produced entirely by the nature and force of circumstances—by the conflict of two opposite orders of things. Would the individuals who held this language, if indeed they were sincere, have preferred to go back to the period preceding Brumaire, when our internal dissolution was complete, foreign invasion certain, and the destruction of France inevitable? From the moment when we decided on the concentration of power, which could alone save us; when we determined on the unity of doctrines and resources which rendered us a mighty nation, the destinies of France depended solely on the character, the measures, and the principles of him whom she had invested with this accidental dictatorship: from that moment the public welfare, _the State_, _was myself_. These words, which I addressed to men who were capable of understanding them, were strongly censured by the narrow-minded and ill-disposed; but the enemy felt the full force of them, and, therefore, his first object was to effect my overthrow. The same outcry was raised against other words which I uttered in the sincerity of my heart: when I said that _France had more need of me than I of her_. This profound truth was declared to be merely excess of vanity. But, my dear Las Cases, you now see that I can relinquish every thing; and as to what I endure here, my sufferings cannot be long. My life is limited; but the existence of France...!” Then, resuming his former idea, he said: “The circumstances in which we were placed were extraordinary and unprecedented; it would be vain to seek for any parallel to them. I was myself the keystone of an edifice totally new, and raised on a slight foundation! Its stability depended on each of my battles! Had I been conquered at Marengo, France would have encountered all the disasters of 1814 and 1815, without those prodigies of glory which succeeded, and which will be immortal. It was the same at Austerlitz and Jena, and again at Eylau and elsewhere. The vulgar failed not to blame my ambition as the cause of all these wars. But they were not of my choosing; they were produced by the nature and force of events; they arose out of that conflict between the past and the future—that constant and permanent coalition of our enemies, which obliged us to subdue under pain of being subdued.”

But to return to the negotiations of 1813. On a reference to the documents and manifestoes published at the time by the two parties, whether because we can now peruse them with more impartiality, or because our eyes have been opened by the conduct of those who triumphed, it is impossible to avoid feeling astonished at the two-fold error which led the Germans to rise so furiously against him from whose yoke they pretended to free themselves, and in favour of those whom they expected to become their regenerators!

_Renewal of Hostilities—Battle of Dresden—26th and 27th of August._—“The hostile powers again presented themselves on the field of battle. The French, with a force of 300,000, of which 40,000 were cavalry, occupied the heart of Saxony, on the left bank of the Elbe; and the Allies, with 500,000 men, of whom 100,000 were cavalry, threatened them in three different directions, from Berlin, Silesia, and Bohemia, on Dresden. This prodigious disproportion of numbers had no effect on Napoleon: he concentrated his forces, and boldly assumed the offensive. Having fortified the line of the Elbe, which had now become his _point d’appui_, and, protecting his extreme right by the mountains of Bohemia, he directed one of his masses on Berlin against Bernadotte, who commanded an army of Prussians and Swedes, while another marched upon Silesia, against Blucher, who commanded a corps composed of Prussians and Russians, and a third was stationed at Dresden, as the key of the position, to observe the great Austrian and Russian army in Bohemia. Finally, a fourth mass was placed as a reserve, at Zittau, with the threefold object:—1st, to penetrate into Bohemia, in case we should gain advantages over Blucher; 2d, to keep the great body of the allied force confined in Bohemia, through the fear of being attacked on their rear, should they attempt to debouch by the banks of the Elbe; 3d, to assist, if necessary, in assailing Blucher, or in the defence of Dresden; in case that city should be attacked.

“The Emperor, who had already made a rapid movement against Blucher, kept him in action before him, when he was suddenly called away for the defence of Dresden, where 65,000 French troops found themselves opposed to 180,000 of the allied forces. Prince Schwartzenberg, the General-in-chief, had on the 26th made a faint attack upon Dresden, instead of making a precipitate and decided assault; which, it was affirmed, was the intention of the deserter Jomini, who so well understood the real state of things. Napoleon came up with the rapidity of lightning and he combined a force of 100,000 French troops to oppose the 180,000 Allies. The affair was not for a moment doubtful; and to his sagacity and penetration the whole success must be attributed. The enemy was overwhelmed: he lost 40,000 men, and was for some time threatened with total destruction. The Emperor Alexander was present at the battle, and Moreau was killed by one of the first balls fired by our imperial guard, only a short time after he had spoken with the Russian Emperor.[16]

Footnote 16:

The death of the celebrated Moreau, while fighting under the Russian
banner, and opposed to a French army, was and will ever continue to be
a source of affliction to his sincerest friends and warmest partizans.

The happy chance, so anxiously looked for by Napoleon, which was expected to re-establish our affairs, to procure peace, and to save France, had at length arrived. Accordingly, on the ensuing day, Austria despatched an agent to the Emperor with amicable propositions. But such is the uncertainty of human destiny! From that moment, by an unexampled fatality, Napoleon had to encounter a chain of disasters. At every point, except that at which he was himself present, we sustained reverses. Our army in Silesia lost 25,000 men in opposing Blucher; the force which attacked Berlin was defeated by the Prince of Sweden with great loss; and finally, nearly the whole of Vandamme’s corps, which, after the victory of Dresden, was sent into Bohemia with the view of assailing the enemy’s rear and accomplishing his destruction, being abandoned to itself and to the temerity of its chief, was cut in pieces by that part of the Allied army which was precipitately falling back. This fatal disaster and the safety of the Austrians, were owing to a sudden indisposition of Napoleon’s, who, at the moment, was supposed to have been poisoned. His presence no longer excited the ardour of the different corps in maintaining the pursuit; indecision and dejection ensued; Vandamme’s force was destroyed, and all the fruit of the splendid victory of Dresden was lost!

After these repeated checks, the spell was broken; the spirit of the French troops became depressed, while that of the Allies was the more highly excited. The hostile forces were now to be estimated only by their numerical value; and a catastrophe seemed to be at hand. Napoleon, in despair, made vain efforts; he hastened to every threatened point, and was immediately called away by some new disaster. Wherever he appeared, the Allies retreated before him; and they advanced again as soon as his back was turned. Meanwhile, all the enemy’s masses were constantly gaining ground; they had effected communications with each other, and they now formed a semicircle, which was gradually closing round the French, who were driven back upon the Elbe, and threatened completely to surround them. On the other hand, our rear, which was uncovered, was assailed by detached parties. The kingdom of Westphalia was in open insurrection; our convoys were intercepted, and we could no longer maintain free communications with France.

It was in this state of things that the negotiators of Prague submitted to the Emperor the result of their new conferences. In addition to numerous restitutions required from Napoleon and his allies, two propositions were made: 1st, the surrender of all the influence and acquisitions of France in Italy; 2nd, the resignation of the French influence and acquisitions in Germany. Napoleon was to take his choice of one of these two divisions of power; but the other was to be consigned to the Allies, to be entirely at their disposal, without any interference on his part. Neither friends nor enemies entertained a doubt that Napoleon would eagerly accept these proposals. “For,” said those about him, “if you choose Italy, you remain at the gates of Vienna, and the Allies will soon dispute among themselves respecting the division of Germany. If, on the contrary, you prefer the surrender of Italy, you will thereby secure the friendship of Austria, to whose share it will fall, and you will remain in the heart of Germany. In either case you will soon re-appear in the character of a mediator, or a ruler.” Napoleon, however, was not of this opinion: he rejected the propositions, and persisted in following up his own ideas.

Certainly, said he to himself, such proposals in themselves, and in the natural course of things, are most acceptable; but where is the guarantee of their sincerity? He saw plainly that the Allies were only endeavouring to lure him into the snare. They determined thenceforth to abide neither by faith nor law. They did not conceive themselves bound by any law of nations, or any rule of integrity in their conduct towards us. In opposition to the suggestions of his counsellors, Napoleon said; “If I relinquish Germany, Austria will but contend the more perseveringly until she obtains Italy. If, on the other hand, I surrender Italy to her, she will, in order to secure the possession of it, endeavour to expel me from Germany. Thus, one concession granted will only serve as an inducement for seeking or enforcing new ones. The first stone of the edifice being removed, the downfall of the whole will inevitably ensue. I shall be urged on from one concession to another, until I am driven back to the Tuileries, whence the French people, enraged at my weakness, and blaming me for their disasters, will doubtless banish me, and perhaps justly, though they may themselves immediately become the prey of foreigners.”

May not this be regarded as a literal prediction of the events which succeeded the insidious declaration of Frankfort, the propositions of Chatillon, &c.?

“It would be a thousand times better to perish in battle amidst the fury of the enemy’s triumph,” continued the Emperor; “for even defeats leave behind them the respect due to adversity, when they are attended by magnanimous perseverance. I therefore prefer to give battle; for, if I should be conquered, we still have with us the true political interests of the majority of our enemies. But, if I should be victorious, I may save all. I have still chances in my favour—I am far from despairing.”

_Intended movement on Berlin._—“In this state of things, the King of Bavaria, the chief of the Confederation of the Rhine, wrote to the Emperor, assuring him, confidentially, that he would continue his alliance for six weeks longer. “This was long enough,” said Napoleon, “to render it very probable that he would no longer find it necessary to abandon us.” He determined immediately to attempt a great movement, which he had long contemplated, and which plainly indicates the resources of his enterprising mind. Pressed upon the Elbe, the right bank of which was already lined by the great mass of the Allied force, and nearly turned on his rear, he conceived the bold idea of changing positions with the enemy, place for place; to penetrate the enemy’s line, to form in his rear, and compel him to pass in his turn, with his whole force, to the left bank of the river. If, in this situation, he abandoned his communications with France, he would have in his rear the enemy’s territory, a tract of country not yet ravaged by war, and which was capable of maintaining his troops, Berlin, Brandenburg, and Mecklenburg, he would recover his fortresses, with their immense garrisons, the separation and the loss of which would be a great fault after a reverse of fortune, and would be regarded as resources of genius in case of triumph. Napoleon now looked forward to new combinations, and a new prospect of future success: he beheld before him only the errors, the astonishment, and the stupor of his enemies, and the brilliancy of his own enterprise and his hopes.

_Battles of Leipsic_, (16th, 18th, and 19th Oct.)—“At first fortune seemed to smile on the Emperor. But soon a letter from the King of Würtemberg informed him that the Bavarian army, seduced by the intrigues and the prevailing spirit of the moment, had joined the Austrians, against whom it was intended to be opposed; that it was marching on the Rhine to cut off the communication with France; and that the King of Würtemburg was himself under the necessity of yielding to circumstances. This unexpected event obliged Napoleon to suspend his preparations, and to fall back, in order to secure his retreat. This complication of false movements proved servicable to the Allies, who pressed and surrounded us: a great battle seemed inevitable. Napoleon assembled his forces in the plains of Leipsic. His army consisted of 157,000 men, and six hundred pieces of artillery; but the Allies possessed 1000 pieces of artillery, and 350,000 men. During the first day, the action was furiously maintained: The French remained triumphant and the victory would have been decisive, if one of the corps stationed at Dresden had taken part in the battle, as the Emperor hoped it would. General Merfeld was taken prisoner, but liberated on parole, with an intimation that the Emperor was at length willing to renounce Germany. But the Allies, who were encouraged by the arrival of an immense reinforcement, resumed the engagement on the following day; and they were now so numerous that, when their troops were exhausted, they were regularly relieved by fresh corps, as on the parade. The most inconceivable fatality was now combined with inequality of numbers; the most infamous treachery unexpectedly broke out in our ranks; the Saxons, our allies, deserted us, went over to the enemy, and turned their artillery against us. Still, however, the presence of mind, energy, and skill of the French general, together with the courage of our troops, made amends for all, and we again remained masters of the field.

“These two terrible engagements, which history will record as battles of giants, had cost the enemy 150,000 of his best troops, 50,000 of whom lay dead on the field of battle. Our loss amounted to 50,000 only. Thus the difference between our forces was considerably diminished: and a third engagement presented itself, with changes much more favourable. But our ammunition was exhausted; our parks contained no more than 16,000 charges; we had fired 220,000 during the two preceding days. We were compelled to make arrangements for our retreat, which commenced during the night, on Leipsic. At day-break the Allies assailed us; they entered Leipsic along with us, and an engagement commenced in the streets of the city. Our rear-guard was defending itself valiantly and without sustaining great loss, when a fatal occurrence ruined all: the only bridge across the Elster, by which our retreat could be effected, was, by some accident or misunderstanding, blown up. Thus all our forces on the Leipsic bank of the river were lost, and all on the opposite bank marched in haste and disorder upon Mentz. At Hanau we were compelled to force a passage through 50,000 Bavarian troops. Only the wrecks of our army returned to France; and, to render the misfortune complete, they brought contagion along with them.”

Such was the fatal campaign of Saxony, our last national effort, the tomb of our gigantic power. Opposed to the united efforts of all the forces of Europe, and in spite of all the chances that were accumulated against us, the genius of a single man had, in the course of this campaign, been four times on the point of restoring our ascendancy, and cementing it by peace: after the victories of Lützen and Bautzen, after the battle of Dresden, at the time of the last movement on Berlin, and finally on the plains of Leipsic.

Napoleon failed only by a complication of fatalities and perfidies, of which history furnishes no example. I here note down only those which occur to me on a retrospective view of the events of this period.

FATALITIES.

(A.) Sudden indisposition of Napoleon.

(B.) Unexpected overflow of the Bober.

(C.) Confidential letter from the King of Bavaria.

(D.) Orders which did not reach the corps at Dresden.

(E.) Deficiency of ammunition after the two battles of Leipsic.

(F.) Blowing up of the bridge across the Elster.

PERFIDIES.

(G.) Machinations and bad faith of Austria, the first and true cause of our disasters.

(H.) Violation of the armistice of Pleisswitz, relative to our blockaded fortresses.

(I.) Desertion of the chief of the staff of the 3d corps.

(K.) Defection of the Bavarian government.

(L.) Treachery of the Saxons.

(M.) Violation of the capitulation of Dresden, &c.

The following are a few lines of explanation:—

(A.) After the victory of Dresden, some one complimented Napoleon on his great success. “Oh! this is nothing,” observed he, while his countenance beamed with satisfaction; “Vandamme is in their rear, it is there that we must look for the great result.” The Emperor was proceeding in person to assist in accomplishing this decisive operation, when, unfortunately, after one of his meals, he was seized with so violent a retching, that he was supposed to have been poisoned, and it was found necessary to convey him back to Dresden. Thus the operations were interrupted. The fatal consequences that ensued are well known. How trivial was the cause, and how calamitous were the results!

(B.) A sudden overflow of the Bober in Silesia was the principal cause of the disasters of Marshal Macdonald. His corps, while in full operation, were overtaken by the flood, which impeded their operations, and caused the terrible losses which have been above described.

(C.) About the end of September, the King of Bavaria addressed a confidential letter to Napoleon, stating that he would maintain his alliance with him for six weeks or two months longer; and that during that interval he would obstinately refuse every advantage that might be held out to him. The Emperor, who was placed in a most critical situation, and who, but for this circumstance, might, perhaps, have lent an ear to the propositions that were made to him, now no longer hesitated, but immediately determined on the bold movement which he had contemplated on Berlin. He conceived that six weeks would be sufficient to change the state of affairs, and to remove the fears of his allies. Unfortunately, military intrigues proved more powerful than the wishes of the King of Bavaria. Napoleon was forced to suspend his movement, and to give battle at Leipsic with disadvantage. The consequences have already been seen.

(D.) Napoleon, in making his arrangements for the battles of Leipsic, had relied on a diversion of those corps of the army which he had left in Dresden. Their co-operation might have rendered the victory decisive, and have given a new turn to affairs. But, unfortunately the enemy’s force was so numerous, and we were so completely surrounded, that the Emperor’s orders could not be transmitted to Dresden.

(F.) After the two terrible engagements at Leipsic, the French were effecting their retreat across the Elster by a single bridge. An officer who was stationed to guard it was ordered to blow it up if the enemy should present himself in pursuit of our rear-guard. Unluckily this officer was, by some mistake or other, informed that the Emperor wanted him. He immediately obeyed the summons, and in his absence a corporal of sappers, at the first sight of some detached Russian corps, fired the train and blew up the bridge, thus dooming to perdition that portion of our force which still remained on the Leipsic bank of the river. The whole of our rear-guard and baggage, two hundred pieces of artillery, and thirty thousand prisoners (stragglers, wounded and sick), fell into the hands of the enemy.

On the publication of the bulletins containing this intelligence, a general outcry was raised by the discontented party in Paris. It was asserted that the whole was a fabrication, and that the Emperor himself had ordered the blowing up of the bridge, with a view to ensure his own safety at the expense of the rest of the army. It was in vain to refer to the statement of the officer, who confirmed the fact, while he attempted to justify himself. This was declared to be another fabrication or a piece of complaisance on the part of the officer. Such was the language of the time.[17]

Footnote 17:

When I visited London in 1814, public attention was occupied by the
recent events of the Continent, and the battle of Leipsic was the
general topic of conversation. It was related that, at the moment of
the defeat, Napoleon’s presence of mind completely forsook him. He
wandered about the city, and lost his way in a lonely street. Though
on horseback, faintness obliged him to support himself against a wall,
and in this situation he inquired his way of an old woman, and asked
her for a glass of water. The blowing up of the bridge was not
forgotten, and the story was related precisely as at Paris. These
details, which were echoed in the drawing-rooms, and circulated about
the streets, were credited among the higher ranks, as well as by the
vulgar. Prints, representing the different events of the battle, were
exhibited in the shop-windows. The subject of one of these engravings
was the above described incident in the street of Leipsic. Such a
multitude of absurdities was circulated that people of common sense
had no resource but to shrug up their shoulders and patiently endure
all that they heard.

(G.) The duplicity and bad faith of Austria, the numerous contradictions between her acts and her professions, have already been mentioned. Unmindful of the generosity of which she had been the object after the battles of Leoben, Austerlitz, and Wagram, she discharged her debt of gratitude according to the rules of policy, by eagerly seizing the opportunity of repairing her losses at any price.

She ruined us by making us consent to the armistice of Pleisswitz; and her conduct was the more odious, as she was determined to make war against us; and a few days afterwards, though still our friend and ally, and offering herself as a mediatrix, she entered into engagements hostile to us. Her participation in the conventions of Rechembach about the middle of June, and in the conferences of Trachenbergh, at the commencement of July, is now well known. The necessity of maintaining a certain appearance of decorum occasioned these matters to be kept a secret for about a month after the commencement of hostilities. They were at first proposed to Francis merely as eventual and precautionary measures; and he was induced to affix his signature to them only by the representations of his ministers, who described Napoleon as the scourge of mankind, and attributed to him the delays in the opening of the Congress, which in reality were occasioned by themselves. (_Montveran,_ vol. vi. p. 262.)

But, in spite of the conduct of Austria, Napoleon still cherished the hope of seeing her resume her alliance with him; not that he could calculate on any misunderstanding between her and the other coalesced Powers, but because he supposed her to be sufficiently clear-sighted with respect to her own interests. This idea never forsook him until the moment of signing his abdication.[18]

Footnote 18:

This supposition was not altogether ill-founded; for it still remains
doubtful whether the consent of Austria to the dethronement of the
Emperor was compulsory or voluntary. By one of those fatalities which
attended the close of Napoleon’s career, a momentary success separated
the Austrians and the Russians, and the order for marching upon Paris,
as well as the famous declaration proscribing Napoleon and his family,
proceeded solely from Alexander. When Francis presented himself, he
had no alternative but to give his assent to measures which were
already determined on; but many circumstances induce the belief that
he did so with great repugnance and dissatisfaction.

(H.) The fortresses occupied by French troops in those places which were in the possession of the Allied forces, were to have a clear circuit of one league, and to receive supplies of provisions every five days; but this article was not honestly fulfilled.

When the Armistice was prolonged, the French commissaries demanded that officers of their army should be sent to the commanders of the fortresses; but the Russian General-in-chief objected to this, and circumstances were such that we were obliged to give up the point. (_Montveran_, vol. vi. p. 270.)

(I.) The chief of the staff of the 3d corps, a Swiss by birth, but educated in our ranks, went over to the enemy a few days before the renewal of hostilities, taking with him all the information he could collect. For this service the Emperor of Russia rewarded him with particular favour and made him one of his Aides-de-camp. It has been said that this officer, who was possessed of great talent, had reason to complain of some injustice; but can any thing palliate such an act, or remove the disgrace attending it?

(K.) Part of Napoleon’s plan of Campaign was that the Bavarian army, stationed on the Danube, should act in concert with the army of Italy stationed in Illyria, and that their combined efforts should be directed upon Vienna. The important effect which these measures must have produced on the fate of the Campaign may be easily conceived. But the chief of the Bavarian army, under some pretence or other, but in reality because he had entered into an understanding with the enemy, remained constantly inactive, and thus paralyzed the efforts of the Viceroy, who had to oppose the great bulk of the Austrian force. It has already been stated that the open defection of the Bavarians, at the most critical moment of the campaign, mainly contributed to bring about our disasters.

(L.) But nothing equalled the infamous and disgraceful treachery of the Saxons, who, though they were then serving in our ranks and were our companions in danger and glory, suddenly turned against us. Whatever might be the fatal effects of their desertion, the disgrace attached to themselves is greater than all the mischief they occasioned to us.

The conduct of Napoleon during this period, when he was described as a monster of deception and bad faith, presents, on the contrary, an example of singular magnanimity.

He had added a corps of Saxons to his Imperial guard; but, on the desertion of their countrymen, he ranged them round their Sovereign, whom he left at Leipsic,[19] releasing him from all his engagements. There were also some Bavarians in his army, and he wrote to their chief, informing him that, Bavaria having disloyally declared war against him, this circumstance would authorize him in disarming and detaining prisoners all the Bavarians in his service; but that such a measure would destroy the confidence which Napoleon wished that the troops under his orders should repose in him. He therefore ordered them to be supplied with provisions, and dismissed.[20]

Footnote 19:

The venerable and faithful King of Saxony followed his ally Napoleon,
at whose head-quarters he established himself. The coalesced powers,
on their entrance into Leipsic, seized the person of the King, and
announced their design of disposing of his states. His misfortunes are
known throughout Europe; they excited a deep interest in every
generous heart.

Footnote 20:

Amidst the general disloyalty, the conduct of the King of Würtemburg
presents an honourable exception. That prince, though already at war
with us, broke the brigade of cavalry, and the corps of infantry, who
went over to the enemy, and at the same time withdrew the decoration
of his Order from their officers.

(M.) I have before me the notes of a distinguished officer relative to the capitulation of Dresden. Estimating the number of troops which we had left behind us in the fortresses from which we were separated, he concludes that they must have amounted altogether to 177,000. The Emperor had but 157,000 men at Leipsic. How different, therefore, might have been our fate, had those masses, or even a portion of them, been at his disposal in this decisive event. But this unfortunate dispersion was occasioned by extraordinary circumstances, and was not the result of any regular system. The following particulars, relative to the violation of the capitulation of Dresden, are literally quoted from the notes above alluded to:—

“Above all, it is necessary to understand that it was determined in the plan of the coalition against France, of which Prince Schwartzenberg had the credit, that according as offers were made for the capitulation of each of our numerous garrisons, the conditions should be fairly and honourably granted, but without any intention of fulfilling them. This point being established, the reason of the refusal of the capitulation, signed at Dresden by Marshal St.-Cyr and Generals Tolstoy and Klenau, was, that Prince Schwartzenberg could not ratify it, because the Count de Lobau, Napoleon’s aide-de-camp, who was shut up in Dresden with the Marshal, had protested against the capitulation. Some time after, the capitulation of Dantzick, with General Rapp, was declined, under the odiously false pretence that the garrison of Dresden, in spite of the conditions of its capitulation, had entered into service immediately on its arrival at Strasburg, and that, in consequence, the capitulation of Dantzick could not be approved without incurring the risk of similar inconveniences.

“The following is an additional proof of the bad faith of the Allies. The garrison of Dresden, which was composed of two _corps d’armée_, forming altogether 45,000 men, capitulated on the 11th of November.[21]

Footnote 21:

The determination to surrender had been far from unanimous in the
garrison. Opinions were divided on this point. Some were for returning
to France by means of a capitulation, which course was adopted; others
were in favour of an enterprise of a much bolder nature. This was
nothing less than to quit Dresden, with the chosen troops of the
garrison, to descend the Elbe by successively raising the blockade of
Torgau, where there were 28,000 men; of Wittemberg, where there were
5000; of Magdeburg, where there were 20,000, and to proceed to Hamburg
where there were 32,000. The army thus collected together, which would
have amounted to 60 or 80,000 men, was to repair to France, cutting a
passage through the enemy’s ranks, or compelling him to retrograde by
manœuvring on his rear; while the levies in mass that might have
advanced to assail our veteran bands would have been paralyzed. And
even had this plan failed, the issue was not likely to be more fatal
than the capitulation. This opinion was warmly advocated by the Count
de Lobau, Generals Teste, Mouton-Duvernet, and others. The design was
grand, worthy of our glory, and quite in harmony with our past acts.
It was the Emperor’s intention to carry it into effect, and for this
purpose he issued orders, which, however, did not reach the place of
their destination. The despair occasioned by the thought of
surrendering was such that a portion of the troops urged the officer
who was at the head of the opposing party to take the command upon
himself. Respect for discipline at length prevailed over enthusiasm;
but the officer above alluded to expressed himself in the most violent
way in the council. It is said that, in his indignation, he exclaimed
to the General-in-chief;—“The Emperor will tell me that, pistol in
hand, I ought to have taken the command upon myself.“

“According to the terms of the capitulation, the French were to evacuate the fortress in six columns and in six successive days, and to repair to Strasburgh.

“This capitulation was fulfilled, so far at least as regarded our evacuation of the fortress and its occupation by the enemy; but our sixth column had scarcely made a day’s march from the town when it was announced that the capitulation was declined and rejected by the General-in-chief, Prince Schwartzenberg, by an order of the 19th of November.

“When Marshal Saint-Cyr remonstrated against this conduct, it was proposed, by way of compensation for the injustice, that he should be permitted to re-enter Dresden with his troops, and be again placed in possession of all the means of defence which he had before the capitulation: this was merely a piece of irony.

“In vain did the Marshal negotiate for the literal fulfilment of the articles agreed upon by Count Klenau, who had full powers for so doing; the unfortunate garrison, broken up and dispersed, was under the necessity of repairing to the different cantonments that were assigned to it in Bohemia, instead of pursuing its march towards the Rhine.

“The Marshal, indignant at this flagrant breach of faith, despatched a superior officer to communicate the circumstance to Napoleon; but the Allies retarded his progress under various pretences, and he did not reach Paris until the 18th of December. Subsequent events had by this time rendered the evil past all remedy.”

After the series of deceptions and perfidies which I have here disclosed, and which the Allies had established as a system, it is not surprising that Napoleon should have placed no reliance on the famous declaration of Frankfort, and that he should have felt indignant at the blindness of our Legislative Body, the committee of which, either from evil designs or mistaken views, completed the ruin of affairs. Napoleon assured me that he was several times on the point of summoning the members of this committee before him, in order to consult with them confidentially and sincerely on the real state of things, and the imminent danger with which we were threatened. Sometimes he thought that he should undoubtedly bring them back to a right sense of their duty; sometimes, on the contrary, he feared that obstinacy of opinion, or mischievous intention, might have involved the affair in controversy, which, considering the spirit of the moment, would have weakened our resources and hastened our dissolution.

The Emperor frequently adverted to this critical point in the destinies of France; but I have hitherto refrained from entering upon the detail of a subject which presents nothing either agreeable or consolatory.

BENEVOLENT ACTIONS PERFORMED BY THE EMPEROR.—HIS VISIT TO
AMSTERDAM.—OBSERVATIONS ON THE DUTCH, &C.—THE MASSACRES OF THE THIRD
OF SEPTEMBER.—REMARKS ON REVOLUTIONS IN GENERAL.—UNHAPPY FATE OF LOUIS
XVI.

3rd. About three o’clock, the Emperor sent for me to attend him in his chamber. He had just finished dressing; and, as it was raining at the time, he went into the drawing-room, where he communicated to me some very curious particulars, which, as it may be supposed, concerned him, and in which I played a conspicuous part.

Some time afterwards the Emperor took a turn on the lawn contiguous to his library; but, finding the wind very violent, he soon returned to the house and played at billiards, a thing which he very seldom thought of doing.

In the course of the day, the Emperor related that, as he was once travelling with the Empress, he stopped to breakfast in one of the islands in the Rhine. There was a small farm house in the neighbourhood, and while he was at breakfast he sent for the peasant to whom it belonged, and desired him to ask boldly for whatever he thought would render him happy; and, in order to inspire him with the greater confidence, the Emperor made him drink several glasses of wine. The peasant, who was more prudent and less limited in his choice than the man described in the story of the three wishes, without hesitation specified the object which he was ambitious to possess. The Emperor commanded the prefect of the district immediately to provide him with what he had made choice of, and the expense attending the gratification of his wish did not exceed 6 or 7000 francs.

Napoleon added that, on another occasion, when he was sailing in a yacht in Holland, he entered into conversation with the steersman, and asked him how much his vessel was worth. “My vessel!” said the man, “it is not mine; I should be too happy if it were, it would make my fortune.”—“Well, then,” said the Emperor, “I make you a present of it;” a favour for which the man seemed not particularly grateful. His indifference was imputed to the phlegmatic temperament natural to his countrymen; but this was not the case. “What benefit has he conferred on me?” said he to one of his comrades who was congratulating him; “he has spoken to me, and that is all; he has given me what was not his own to give—a fine present truly!” In the mean time Duroc had purchased the vessel of the owner, and the receipt was put into the hands of the steersman, who, no longer doubting the reality of his good fortune, indulged in the most extravagant demonstrations of joy. The expense of this purchase was about the same as that attending the present made to the countryman. “Thus,” said the Emperor, “it is evident that human wishes are not so immoderate as they are generally supposed, and that it is not so very difficult to render people happy! These two men undoubtedly found themselves completely happy.”

When the Emperor visited Amsterdam, the people, he said, were very hostile to him; but he soon completely ingratiated himself in the public favour. He declined being attended by any other guard than the guard of honour belonging to the city; and this mark of confidence immediately gained him the esteem of the Dutch. He constantly appeared among every class of citizens. On one occasion he addressed a crowd of people in the following blunt manner:—“It is said that you are discontented—but why? France has not conquered, but adopted, you: you are excluded from no benefits which are enjoyed by the French; you are a portion of the same family, and participate in all its advantages. Consider now: I have selected my Prefects, Chamberlains, and Councillors of State from amongst you in a just proportion to the amount of your population, and I have augmented my guard with your Dutch guard. You complain of distress; but, in this respect, France has still greater reason to be dissatisfied. We all suffer, and we must continue to do so until the common enemy, the tyrant of the sea, the vampire of your trade, shall be brought to reason. You complain of the sacrifices you have made; but come to France and see all that you still possess beyond what we do, and then, perhaps, you will deem yourselves less unfortunate. Why not rather congratulate yourselves on the circumstances that have brought about your union with France. In the present state of Europe, what would you be, if left to yourselves?—The slaves of all the world. Instead of which, identified as you are with France, you will one day possess the whole trade of the great Empire.” Then, assuming a tone of gaiety, he said:—“I have done every thing in my power to please you. Have I not sent you as a Governor precisely the man who suits you—the good and pacific Lebrun. You condole with him, he condoles with you: you bewail your distresses together. What more could I do for you?” At these words the assembly burst into a loud fit of laughter. The Emperor had secured the good graces of the multitude.—“However,” said he, “let us hope that the present state of things will not last long. Believe me, I am as anxious for a change as you can be. Every man of discernment among you must be aware that it is neither my wish, nor for my interest, that matters should remain as they now are.”

The Emperor left the people of Amsterdam full of enthusiasm for him; and he, on his part, carried away impressions decidedly in their favour. Previously to his journey he had often complained that whosoever he sent to Holland immediately became a Dutchman. After his return, that circumstance occurred to his recollection in the Council of State, and he said that he had himself become a Dutchman. One day, when a member of the Council spoke slightingly of the Dutch, the Emperor said, “Gentlemen, you may be more agreeable than they; but I can wish you nothing better than to be possessed of their moral qualities.”

After dinner, some one happened to mention the date of the day, the 3rd of September; upon which the Emperor made some very remarkable observations; among which were the following:—“This,” said he, “is the anniversary of horrid and appalling executions, of a repetition, in miniature, of Saint-Bartholomew’s day: less disgraceful, certainly, because fewer victims were sacrificed, and because the atrocities were not committed under the sanction of the Government, which, on the contrary, used its endeavours to punish the crime. It was committed by the mob of Paris; an unbridled power, which rivalled, and even controlled, the Legislature.

“The atrocities of the 3rd of September were the result of fanaticism rather than of absolute brutality: the authors of the massacres put to death one of their own party, for having committed theft during the executions. This dreadful event,” continued the Emperor, “arose out of the force of circumstances and the spirit of the moment. No political change ever takes place unattended by popular fury; the people are never exposed to danger, without committing disorders and sacrificing victims. The Prussians entered the French territory; and the people, before they advanced to meet them, resolved to take revenge on their adherents in Paris. Probably, this circumstance was not without its influence on the safety of France. Who can doubt that if, during recent events, the friends of the invaders had been the victims of similar horrors, France would have fallen under the yoke of foreigners? But this could not have happened, for we had become legitimate. The duration of authority, our victories, our treaties, the re-establishment of our old manners, had rendered our government regular. We could not plunge into the same horrors as had been committed by the multitude; for my part, I neither could nor would be a King of the mob.

“No social revolution ever takes place unaccompanied by violence. Every revolution of this kind is at first merely a revolt. Time and success alone can exalt and render it legitimate; but still it can never be brought about without outrage. If people enjoying authority and fortune are required to relinquish these advantages, they of course resist: force is then resorted to; they are compelled to yield. In France this point was gained by the lantern and public executions. The reign of terror commenced on the 4th of August, with the abolition of titles of nobility, tithes, and feudal rights, the wrecks of which were scattered among the multitude, who then, for the first time, understood and felt really interested in the Revolution. Before this period there was so much of dependence and religious spirit among the people that many doubted whether the crops would ripen as usual without the King and the tithes.

“A revolution,” concluded the Emperor, “is one of the greatest evils by which mankind can be visited. It is the scourge of the generation by which it is brought about; and all the advantages it procures cannot make amends for the misery with which it embitters the lives of those who participate in it. It enriches the poor, who still remain dissatisfied; and it impoverishes the rich, who cannot forget their downfal. It subverts every thing; and, at its commencement, brings misery to all and happiness to none.

“Beyond a doubt, true social happiness consists in the harmony and the peaceful possession of the relative enjoyments of each class of people. In regular and tranquil times, every individual has his share of felicity: the cobbler in his stall is as content as the King on his throne; the soldier is not less happy than the general. The best-founded revolutions, at the outset, bring universal destruction in their train; the advantages they may produce are reserved for a future age. Ours seems to have been an irresistible fatality: it was a moral eruption, which could no more be prevented than a physical eruption. When the chemical combinations necessary to produce the latter are complete, it bursts forth: in France the moral combinations which produce a revolution had arrived at maturity, and the explosion accordingly took place.”

We asked the Emperor whether he thought it would have been possible to suppress the Revolution in its birth; and he replied that, if not impossible, the attempt would at least have been difficult. “Perhaps,” said he “the storm might have been laid or averted by some great Machiavelian act; by striking with one hand the great ringleaders, and with the other making concessions to the nation, granting freely the reformation required by the age, part of which had already been mentioned in the famous royal sitting. And yet, after all,” he observed, “this would only have been guiding and directing the Revolution.” He thought that some other plan of the same kind might perhaps have succeeded on the 10th of August, if the King had remained triumphant. “These two periods,” he said, were the only ones which afforded any chance, however desperate; for, at the affair of Versailles, the people had not yet entirely shaken off their allegiance, and on the 10th of August they were already beginning to be tired of disorder. But those who were chiefly interested in quelling the revolutionary spirit were not adequate to encounter the difficulties of the moment.”

The Emperor then rapidly ran over the series of errors committed during this period. “The line of conduct then pursued,” said he, “was truly pitiable. Louis XVI. should have had a prime minister, and M. Necker under him in the finance department. Prime ministers seem to have been invented for the last reigns of the French monarchy; and yet the prevailing false notions and vanity of the time caused them to be dispensed with.”

A great deal was said respecting the equivocal conduct of several great personages during this critical period, and the Emperor said: “We condemn Louis XVI.; but, independently of his weakness, he was placed in peculiar circumstances. He was the first monarch on whom the experiment of modern principles was tried. His education, his innate ideas, led him to believe sincerely that all that he defended, either openly or secretly, belonged to him of right. There might be a sort of honesty even in his want of faith, if I may so express myself. At a subsequent period, the same conduct would have been inexcusable, and even reprehensible. Add to all this that Louis XVI. had every body against him, and one may form an idea of the innumerable difficulties which Fate had accumulated on that unhappy Prince. The misfortunes of the Stuarts, which have excited such deep interest, were not more severe.”

THE BODY-GUARD OF THE KING OF FRANCE.—A DESERTER
IN THE EMPEROR’S SUITE.