Chapter V: Part 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_Proclamation._

Gulf of Juan, March the 1st, 1815.

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

_To the Army._

Soldiers!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Signed, NAPOLEON.

By the Emperor.

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

Signed, BERTRAND.

_Proclamation._

Gulf of Juan, March 1, 1815.

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

_To the French People._

Frenchmen!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Signed, NAPOLEON.

By the Emperor.

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

Signed, BERTRAND.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Citizens,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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