Chapter VII: Part 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lyonese,

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

"Lyonese, I love you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next day he was displaced!

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

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

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

[Footnote 62:

ORDERS OF THE DAY.

_The Marshal Prince of the Moskowa, to the troops
of his Government._

Officers, non-commissioned officers, and soldiers!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In fact the King had quitted Paris.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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