Chapter VII: Front Matter (7)

The provisional government, influenced by M. Fouché, soon evinced, that it had caught the true sense of M. Manuel's proposal. Two days after, its acts were issued in the name of the French people. This insult to the sincerity of the chamber, and to the sovereign it had acknowledged, excited its astonishment, and its complaints. The capital and the patriots murmured. The president of the government was summoned, to explain and justify this strange proceeding. He answered: "That it had never been the intention of the committee, to disavow Napoleon II.; but this prince not having been yet acknowledged as sovereign of France by any of the foreign powers, they could not treat with them in his name; and the committee had thought it its duty, to act provisionally in the name of the French people, in order to deprive the enemy of every pretext for refusing to admit the negotiation."

This explanation, strengthened by the hacknied support of the potent words, our country, the public safety, foreign armies, appeared plausible; and no more was said.

The Emperor himself, stunned by the force and rapidity of the blows, that his enemies inflicted on him, thought no longer of defending himself; and seemed to leave to Providence the care of watching over him and his son. He complained: but his dissatisfaction expired on his lips, and excited in him none of those resolutions, that might have been expected from the fire and energy of his character.

The Duke of Otranto, however, and the deputies who had concurred with him in pulling down Napoleon from his throne, did not look on his residence at the Elyseum without alarm. They dreaded, lest, emboldened by the daring counsels of Prince Lucien, by the attachment the army retained for him, by the acclamations of the federates, and citizens of all classes, who assembled daily under the walls of his palace, he should attempt to renew a second 18th Brumaire. They demanded of the chamber, therefore, by the mouth of M. Duchesne, that the _ex-Emperor_ should be desired, in the name of their country, to remove from the capital. This demand having no effect, recourse was had to other means. Endeavours were made to frighten him. Every day officious advisers warned him, that attempts were making against his life: and to give more probability to this clumsy scheme, his guard was suddenly reinforced. Nay, one night, we were roused out of our beds by a messenger from the commandant of Paris, General Hulin, who warned us to be on our guard, as the Elyseum was going to be attacked, &c. But so great was our contempt for these wretched impositions, we did not even think it necessary, to mention it to Napoleon; and saw the return of day, without having lost a single moment's rest. Nothing however could have been more easy, than to carry off or assassinate Napoleon. His palace, which ten days before could scarcely contain the bustling crowd of ambitious men and courtiers, was now one vast solitude. All those men, destitute of faith and honour, whom power attracts, and adversity keeps at a distance, had deserted it. His guard had been reduced to a few old grenadiers: and a single sentry, scarcely in uniform, watched the gate of that Napoleon, that king of kings, who lately reckoned millions of soldiers under his banners.

Napoleon himself, however, was aware, that his presence at Paris, and in an imperial palace, might give the allies room to question the sincerity of his abdication, and be detrimental to the re-establishment of peace. He determined, therefore, to remove.

His private correspondence with the sovereigns, and some original letters, concealed from their search in 1814, he caused to be delivered into his own hands. He then directed us to burn the petitions, letters, and addresses, that had been received since the 20th of March. I was employed in this business one day, when Napoleon passed through the closet. He came up to me, and took a letter I had in my hand. It was one from the Duke of .... He ran it over, and said to me with a smile: "Don't burn this: keep it for yourself. It will be an excellent recommendation, if you find yourself in any trouble. * * * [TN: Missing words in the book] will not fail to swear to those people, that he has maintained his fidelity toward them inviolate; and when he knows, that you have in your hands substantial proof of his having laid himself at my feet, and that I refused both him and his services, he will be ready to quarter himself to serve you, for fear you should blab." I thought the Emperor was jesting: he perceived it, and resumed: "No, I tell you; don't burn that letter, or any of those from persons of the same description: I give them to you for your protection."--"But, Sire, they will accuse me of having stolen them."--"If they complain, threaten, that you will print them all as they are, and they will say no more: I know them."--"Since it is your Majesty's desire, I will keep them." I did, in fact, set aside a certain number of these letters. After the return of the king, I had the complaisance, to restore some of them to the writers. This is not said gratuitously: scarcely had their authors, whom I could name, these letters in their possession, when they extolled their pretended fidelity to the skies; and became the most virulent detractors, both in their conversation and writing, of all who had embraced or served the cause of the 20th of March.

On the 25th, at noon, Napoleon set off for Malmaison. He was received there by the Princess Hortensia. This princess, so odiously calumniated, and so worthy of respect, set us an example of courage and resignation. Her situation, and that of Napoleon, must have wounded her to the heart: yet she found sufficient strength of mind, to suppress her sorrows, and console ours. She was attentive to the Emperor, she was attentive to us, with such constant solicitude, such perfect courteousness, that you would have supposed, she had nothing to think of but the misfortunes of others. If the fate of Napoleon and of France drew from us groans or imprecations, she ran to us; and, restraining her own tears, reminded us with the wisdom of a philosopher, and the sweetness of an angel, that we should surmount our sorrows and regrets, and submit with docility to the decrees of Providence.

Napoleon was roused by the shock, that his departure from the Elyseum gave him. At Malmaison he recovered his spirit, his activity, his energy. Accustomed to see all his wishes, all his enterprises, crowned with success, he had not learned, to contend against the sudden attacks of misfortune; and, notwithstanding the firmness of his character, they threw him occasionally into a state of irresolution, during which a thousand thoughts, a thousand designs, jostled each other in his mind, and deprived him of the possibility of coming to any decision. But this moral catalepsy was not the effect of a cowardly dejection, as has been asserted. His great mind remained erect amid the temporary numbness of his faculties; and Napoleon, when he awoke, was but so much the more terrible, and the more formidable.

A few minutes after his arrival, he was desirous of addressing once more his old companions in arms, and expressing to them for the last time his sentiments and regrets. The affection he bore them, and his despair at being unable to avenge at their head the affront received at Mont St. Jean, made him forget in his first sketch of a proclamation, that he had broken with his own hands his sceptre and his sword. He soon perceived, that the impassioned style, in which he addressed his army, was not such, as his abdication imposed on him: and accordingly he substituted the following address in the place of the too animated effusions of his heart.

"_Napoleon to the brave Soldiers of the Army before Paris._

"Malmaison, June the 25th, 1815.

"Soldiers,

"While I yield to the necessity, that compels me to retire from the brave French army, I carry with me the pleasing certainty, that it will justify, by the eminent services its country expects from it, those praises, which our enemies themselves cannot refuse it.

"Soldiers, though absent, I shall mark your steps. I know all the corps; and no one of them can obtain a signal advantage over the enemy, without my doing justice to the courage it displays. Both you and I have been calumniated. Men not worthy to judge of your actions have seen, in the proofs of attachment you have given me, a zeal, of which I was the sole object: let your future successes teach them, that it was your country you served more especially in obeying me; and that, if I had any share in your affection, I owe it to my ardent love for France, our common mother.

"Soldiers, yet a few efforts, and the coalition is dissolved. Napoleon will know you by the blows you strike.

"Save the honour, the independence of France: continue to the end such as I have known you these twenty years, and you will be invincible."

The Emperor, who perhaps had intended by this proclamation, to turn the remembrance and concern of his ancient soldiers toward himself, inquired after the effect it had produced. He was informed, as was the truth, that it had not been published in the Moniteur, and that the army knew nothing of it. He showed no mark of vexation or discontent, and began to talk of the two chambers.

Since the abdication, the peers and deputies had rivalled each other, in their zeal and endeavours, to put France into a state, to awe its enemies at home and abroad.

They had declared the war national, and summoned all Frenchmen to their common defence.

They had authorized the government, to make requisitions in kind, for victualling the army, and the conveyance of subsistence.

To raise the conscription of 1815.

To suspend the laws respecting personal liberty; and to arrest, or place under inspection, every person charged with exciting disturbances, or conveying intelligence to the enemy.

In fine, they had voted it an immense credit, for defraying provisionally the expense of equipping and paying the army.

The committee, on its part, took, and executed with indefatigable care, every measure, that circumstances demanded. Its task, it must be confessed, was as difficult as perilous. Never was a government placed in similar circumstances. They required, at least in the majority of its members, great courage, great devotion, great patriotism: they required an heroic disregard of ease, of liberty, of life, to assume the responsibility incurred by power, and by events, towards the nation, and towards the king.

The first act of the committee was, to replace in the hands of the Prince of Essling the command in chief of the national guard, which had before devolved on the Emperor. The Duke of Otranto was desirous of taking the post of second in command from General Durosnel, whose rectitude was embarrassing to him, in order to bestow it on M. T**, who appeared to him no doubt more tractable. The Duke of Vicenza and M. Carnot opposed this; and it was left with General Durosnel, to the satisfaction of the national guard, which had already learned how to value the excellent character of this officer.

Marshal Soult not choosing to accept the command, and General Rapp having resigned his, the committee appointed Marshal Grouchy commander of the army of the North.

General Reille was appointed commander of the 1st, 2d, and 6th corps, united into one:

General Drouot commander of the guards:

Marshal Jourdan commander of the army of the Rhine.

Orders were given in all quarters, to replace the stores of the army, remount the cavalry, march out the dépôts, and oblige the straggling soldiers, to return to their colours.

In fine, the committee, after having had recourse to every possible means of supporting the negotiations, by the simultaneous display of the national forces, appointed MM. de la Fayette, de Pontécoulant, de la Forêt, d'Argenson, Sébastiani, and Benjamin Constant, the last being added in the character of secretary, to repair to the allied sovereigns and their generals, to negotiate a suspension of hostilities, and treat of peace.

The day on which these plenipotentiaries departed, M. S*** came to congratulate Napoleon. "The allies," answered the Emperor, "are too deeply interested in imposing the Bourbons on you, to give you my son. My son will reign over France, but his time is not yet arrived. The instructions given the deputies, I have been assured, are in favour of my dynasty: if this be true, other persons should have been chosen to defend it. La Fayette, Sébastiani, Pontécoulant, and Benjamin Constant, have conspired against me. They are my enemies: and the enemies of the father will never be the friends of the son. Besides, the chambers have not sufficient energy, to display an independent will: they obey the directions of Fouché. If they had bestowed on me what they lavish on him, I would have saved France. My presence alone at the head of the army would have done more, than all your negotiations. I would have obtained my son, as the price of my abdication: you will not obtain him. Fouché is not sincere: he has sold himself to the Duke of Orleans. He will make fools of the chambers; the allies will make a fool of him; and you will have Louis XVIII. He thinks himself able, to manage every thing as he pleases; but he is mistaken. He will find, that it requires a hand of a different stamp from his, to guide the reins of a nation, particularly when an enemy is in the land.... The chamber of peers has not done its duty: it has behaved like a chicken. It has suffered Lucien to be insulted, and my son to be dethroned. If it had stood firm, it would have had the army on its side: the generals there would have given it to it[69]. Its order of the day has ruined France, and brought you back the Bourbons, I alone could repair all: but your party-leaders will never consent to it: they would rather be swallowed up in the gulf, than join with me to close it."

[Footnote 69: Most of the peers held commands in the
army.]

The complaints, the regrets, the menaces, that Napoleon allowed continually to escape him, alarmed the promoters of his fall more and more. In the first moments of their warmth they had displayed some boldness; but after their heads had grown cool, they appeared themselves to be astonished at their own courage. They turned pale at the very name of Napoleon and conjured the government night and day, to make him embark as speedily as possible.

From the very day of his abdication, the Emperor had thought of seeking an asylum in a foreign country. Accustomed to powerful emotions, to extraordinary events, he familiarized himself to this idea without difficulty; and appeared to take a momentary pleasure in calculating the hazards of the present, and the chances of the future; and balancing the fictions of hope against the dangers of reality.

The Emperor had never confounded the English nation with the political system of its government. He considered the heart of a Briton as the inviolable sanctuary of honour, generosity, and all the public and private virtues, that stamp on man loftiness and dignity. This high opinion prevailed in his mind over the fears, with which the known principles and sentiments of the cabinet of London could not fail to inspire him: and his first intention was, to retire to England, and there place himself under the protection of hospitality and the laws. He opened his mind to the Dukes of Bassano and Vicenza. The former did not appear to relish this determination. The latter, without condemning of approving it, advised him, if he persisted in taking this step, to go on board a smuggling vessel; and, as soon as he landed, to present himself to the magistrate of the place, and declare, that he came with confidence to invoke the protection of the English nation. Napoleon appeared, to relish this advice; but the counsels of other persons induced him, to incline to the United States. He then sent to the minister of marine for an account of the American vessels, that were in our ports. The minister sent it to him immediately. "Take notice, Sire," he wrote, "of the vessel at Havre. Her captain is in my antechamber; his postchaise at my door. He is ready to depart. I will answer for him. To-morrow, if you please, you may be out of the reach of your enemies."

M. de Vicenza pressed the Emperor, to avail himself of this opportunity. "I am well aware," answered the Emperor, "that there are people, who wish me already gone; who want to get rid of me, and to have me taken prisoner." The duke gave signs of surprise and reproach. "Ah! Caulincourt, it is not you I am speaking of." The Duke of Vicenza replied, that his advice came from his heart; and that he had no other motive, than to see him safe from the dangers, with which he was threatened by the approach of the allies.--The Emperor stopped him. "What have I to fear? I have abdicated; _it is the business of France to protect me!_"

Several Americans, who were at Paris, wrote of their own accord to Napoleon, to offer him their services, and assure him, in the name of their fellow-citizens, that he would be received at Washington with the sentiments of respect, admiration, and devotion, that were his due. Napoleon refused their offers. Not that he had any intention of withdrawing himself from the effects of his abdication: but he had changed his opinion; and considered, that it was his duty, not to quit the country, unless it were exacted of him, till it was no longer in danger.

The government, however, yielding to the continual importunities of the deputies, and of M. Fouché, caused it to be hinted to him, that it was proper he should come to some decision. The Emperor then declared, that he was ready to repair with his family to the United States; and that he would embark, as soon as two frigates were placed at his disposal. The minister of marine was immediately authorized, to fit out these two frigates. Baron Bignon received orders, to demand from Lord Wellington the necessary passports and safeconducts: but the committee, under pretence of not exposing the _frigates_ to fall into the enemy's hands, decreed, that they should not put to sea, till the safeconducts were arrived: a singular condition, that cannot be explained honourably but by the supposition, that the government was not desirous at bottom of letting Napoleon depart; no doubt considering his presence in France as a circumstance, that would render the allies more docile, and less exacting.

The promise made by the Emperor, and the measures taken to ensure his departure, were not sufficient, to quiet the apprehensions of his enemies. They were afraid, that he would avail himself of the delay, which must take place before the safeconducts could arrive, to seize on the sovereign authority by main force. Accordingly, they returned to the charge; and the government, to put an end to their importunate fears, and answer by anticipation the objections of the foreign powers, consented to appoint a guardian to the late head of the state. General Count Beker, a member of the chamber of deputies, was named commander of the Emperor's guard; and, under this pretext, directed, to repair to Malmaison, "to watch over the preservation (_conservation_) of the person of Napoleon, and the respect due to him; and to prevent ill-disposed persons from making use of his name, to excite disturbances[70]."

[Footnote 70: These are the literal terms of General
Beker's commission.]

When the general made his appearance at Malmaison, it was supposed, that he came to arrest Napoleon. An exclamation of sorrow escaped from every heart. Gourgaud and some other officers swore, that no one should lay a sacrilegious hand off the Emperor. I ran to inform Napoleon of what was passing. He came out of his closet, and appeared to our eyes

Avec cet air serein, ce front majestueux,
Tels que dans les combats, maître de son courage,
Tranquille, il arrêtait ou pressait le carnage[71].

[Footnote 71:
With air majestic, and with brow serene,
As, master of his fire, amid the fray,
He coolly urges, or restrains the sword.]

The Emperor ordered us, to respect the person and mission of General Beker, and let him know, that he might appear without scruple, and without fear. But this officer had already explained the purpose of his journey; and a person came to inform the Emperor, that the object of his mission was, not to arrest him, but to watch over the safety of his person, placed under the protection of the national honour[72].

[Footnote 72: I am eager here to pay the general the
homage he merits. He knew perfectly well, how to
reconcile his duty with the attentions and respect, that
were due to Napoleon, and to his misfortune.]

This declaration deceived no one. It grieved us profoundly. The Princess Hortensia's heart was torn by it. "O, my God!" said she, sorrowfully lifting her eyes to Heaven; "was I born, to see the Emperor a prisoner to the French in Malmaison?"

M. Fouché and his followers did not stop at this first precautionary step; and, to deprive the Emperor of the means "of forming plots," they took from him in succession, under one pretence or other, most of the officers, on whose attachment he could depend. Some were sent for to be about the government, others received missions or commands. All were spoken to in the sacred name of their country, and all obeyed. I too was not forgotten and I received orders, as well as my colleague, Baron Fain, to repair to Paris. I informed the Emperor of it. "Go," said he: "you have my consent. You will know what passes there, and will acquaint me with it. I am sorry, that we did not think of sending you in the suite of the plenipotentiaries: you would have reminded Metternich of what was said at Bâle: you would have informed him, that Fouché is labouring for the Duke of Orleans, &c. &c. Perhaps it may not yet be too late. See Caulincourt from me, and tell him, to give you some mission."

As soon as I arrived at the Tuileries, I expressed to the president of the committee, and to M. de Vicence, a wish to make part of the embassy. I reminded them of the proposals of M. Werner, &c. &c. M. de Vicence thought, that my services might be very useful. The Duke of Otranto answered me, that I must give up all thoughts of that; and nothing more was said about it.

Thus Napoleon remained at Malmaison almost alone[73]; and there retired, as Achilles to his tent, he was cursing his state of idleness, when the minister of marine came to announce to him, in the name of the government, that the enemy was at Compiègne; that the committee, apprehensive for his safety, dispensed with his waiting for the safeconducts, and requested him to depart incognito. The Emperor promised to depart: but, when he heard at a distance the first report of a cannon, his whole body thrilled, and he lamented in a tone of despair, that he was condemned to remain far from the field of battle. He ordered General Beker to be called: "The enemy is at Compiègne; at Senlis!" said he to him: "to-morrow he will be at the gates of Paris. I cannot conceive the blindness of the government. A man must be mad, or a traitor to his country, to question the bad faith of the foreign powers. These people understand nothing of affairs." General Beker made a motion with his head, which Napoleon took for a sign of approbation, and he went on: "All is lost: is it not so? In this case, let them make me general; I will command the array; I will immediately demand this (_speaking in an authoritative tone_): General, you shall carry my letter; set off immediately a carriage is ready for you. Explain to them, that it is not my intention, to seize again the sovereign power: that I will fight the enemy, beat them, and compel them by victory, to give a favourable turn to the negotiations: that afterward, this great point obtained, I will pursue my journey. Go, general, I depend on you; you shall quit me no more."

[Footnote 73: His court, formerly so numerous, was now
customarily composed only of the Duke of Bassano, Count
Lavalette, General Flahaut, and the persons who were to
go with him, as the following orderly officers, General
Gourgaud, Counts Montholon and de Lascases, and the Duke
of Rovigo. The attachment, that induced the latter to
attend Napoleon, was so much the more to his honour, as
Napoleon, when he returned from the island of Elba,
reproached him very harshly with having neglected him.
He passes however in the opinion of the public, though
very erroneously, for being one of the contrivers of the
20th of March: but he had always to complain of the
public opinion. It imputes to him a number of wicked
actions, in which he had really no share, and which he
frequently indeed had endeavoured to prevent. The
Emperor employed him on all occasions; because he found
him possessed of a bold and clear judgment, an acute
understanding, and great skill in perceiving the
consequences of a thing, and acting with spirit.
Unfavourable suspicions have been thrown on the motives,
that induced Napoleon, to entrust to him the
administrations of the police: but he was called to this
important office solely because the Emperor had
experience of the infidelity of the Duke of Otranto, who
deserted him on all occasions of difficulty; and wished
to supply his place by a man of tried attachment, a man
who, unconnected with the revolution, and having no
party to keep terms with, could serve him alone, and do
his duty without tergiversation.]

General Beker, overcome by the ascendancy of his prisoner, set off immediately. The letter, the former part of which I am sorry I cannot warrant to be exact, was in substance as follows:

"_To the Committee of Government._

"In abdicating the sovereign authority, I did not renounce the noblest right of a citizen, the right of defending my country.

"The approach of the enemy to the capital leaves no doubt of their intentions, of their bad faith.

"Under these weighty circumstances, I offer my services as general, still considering myself as the first soldier of my country."

The Duke of Otranto read this letter aloud, and exclaimed: "Is he _laughing_ at us?"

M. Carnot appeared to be of opinion, that the Emperor should be replaced at the head of the army.

The Duke of Otranto replied, that the Emperor no doubt had spared the committee this trouble; that he had probably _stolen away_, the moment General Beker departed; and was already haranguing the soldiers, and reviewing them.

General Beker pledged himself, that Napoleon would await his return.

The president of the committee observed then, that the recall of Napoleon would destroy for ever all hope of conciliation: that the enemy, indignant at our Punic faith, would no longer grant us either truce or quarter: that the character of Napoleon would not allow any confidence, to be placed in his promises; and that, if he should meet with any success, he would re-ascend the throne, and bury himself under its ruins, rather than descend from it a second time, &c.

These observations united all their suffrages, and the members of the committee answered the Emperor, "That their duty toward their country, and the engagements the plenipotentiaries had entered into with the foreign powers, did not permit them, to accept his offer." They appointed M. Carnot, to go to Malmaison; explain to the Emperor his situation, and that of France; and conjure him, to spare those calamities, that he appeared desirous of bringing upon France and upon himself.

The proposal of Napoleon was soon known all over Paris. It was first reported, that he had wished, to resume the command; and at last, that he had resumed it. In fact, immediately after the departure of General Beker, Napoleon ordered his chargers to be saddled; and for three hours it was supposed, that he was going to the army. But he had no thought of basely availing himself of the absence of his guardian, to make his escape. Such an idea was beneath a man, who had come to attack and invade a kingdom with eight hundred soldiers.

General Beker returned to Malmaison. The Emperor snatched the answer of the committee, ran it hastily through, and exclaimed: "I was sure of it; these people have no energy. Well, general, since it is so, let us be gone, let us be gone." He ordered M. de Flahaut to be called; and directed him, to go to Paris immediately, and concert measures for his departure and embarkation with the members of the committee.

The Prince of Eckmuhl was at the Tuileries when M. de Flahaut made his appearance there. In the mission of this general he saw nothing but a subterfuge of the Emperor, to defer his departure. "This Bonaparte of yours," said he to him in a tone of anger and contempt, "will not depart: but we must get rid of him: his presence hampers us, is troublesome to us; it is injurious to the success of our negotiations. If he hope, that we shall take him again, he deceives himself: we will have nothing more to do with him. Tell him from me, that he must go; and if he do not depart instantly, I will have him arrested, _I will arrest him myself_." M. de Flahaut, burning with indignation, answered: "I could not have believed, M. marshal, that a man, who was at the knees of Napoleon but a week ago, could to-day hold such language. I have too much respect for myself, I have too much respect for the person and misfortunes of the Emperor, to report to him your words; go yourself, M. marshal, it will befit you better than me."--The Prince of Eckmuhl, irritated at this, reminded him, that he was speaking to the minister at war, to the general in chief of the army: and enjoined him, to repair to Fontainebleau, where he should receive his orders.--"No, sir," replied Count de Flahaut briskly, "I will not go; I will not abandon the Emperor I will preserve to the last moment that fidelity to him, which so many others have sworn."--"I will have you punished for your disobedience."--"You have no longer the right to do so. From this moment I give in my resignation. I can no longer serve under your orders, without disgracing my epaulettes."

He went away. The Emperor perceived on his return, that something had cut him to the heart. He questioned him; and at length brought him to confess all that had passed. Accustomed since his abdication, to be surprised at nothing, and to endure every thing without complaint, Napoleon appeared neither astonished nor displeased at the insults of his former minister. "Let him come," answered he coolly: "_I am ready, if he desire it, to hold out my throat to him._ Your conduct, my dear Flahaut, touches me; but your country wants you: remain in the army, and forget, like me, the Prince of Eckmuhl and his dastardly menaces."

History, more rigid, will not forget them. Respect for misfortune has always been placed in the foremost rank of military virtues. If the warrior, who insults his disarmed enemy, lose the esteem of the brave, what sentiment should he inspire, who abuses, insults, and threatens, his friend, his benefactor, his prince, when under misfortunes?

In the bosom of faithful friendship the Emperor disburdened his mind of the chagrin, that the refusal of his services by the committee occasioned him. "Those people," said he to M. de Bassano, "are blinded by their avidity of enjoying power, and continuing to act the sovereign. They feel, that, if they replaced me at the head of the army, they would be no longer any thing more than my shadow; and they are sacrificing me and their country to their pride, to their vanity. They will ruin every thing." After a few moments silence he added: "But why should I let them reign? I abdicated, to save France, to save the throne of my son. If this throne must be lost, I had rather lose it in the field of battle than here. I can do nothing better for all of you, for my son, and for myself, than throw myself into the arms of my soldiers. My presence will electrify the army, will be a clap of thunder to the foreign powers. They will be aware, that I return to the field, to conquer or die: and, to get rid of me, they will grant all you ask. If, on the contrary, you leave me to gnaw my sword here; they will laugh at you, and you will be forced to receive Louis XVIII. _cap in hand_. We must come to a close: if your five Emperors will not have me, to save France, I must dispense with their consent. It will be sufficient for me, to show myself, and Paris and the army will receive me a second time, as their deliverer."--"I do not doubt it, Sire," answered M. de Bassano: "but the chamber will declare against you: perhaps it will even venture, to declare you outlawed. On the other hand, Sire, if fortune should not prove favourable to your efforts; if the army, after performing prodigies of valour, should be overpowered by numbers; what will become of France? what will become of your Majesty? The enemy will be justified in abusing their victory; and perhaps your Majesty would have to reproach yourself with having caused the ruin of France for ever."--"Come, I see, I must always give way." The Emperor remained some minutes, without uttering another word. He then said: "You are right: I ought not to take upon myself the responsibility of so great an event. I ought to wait, till the voice of the people, of the soldiers, of the chambers recall me. But how is it, that Paris does not call for me? Do not the people then perceive, that the allies give you no credit for my abdication?"--"Sire, so much uncertainty pervades their minds, that they cannot come to an understanding with each other. If they were fully convinced, that it is the intention of the allies, to restore Louis XVIII., perhaps they would not hesitate to speak out; but they entertain hopes, that the allies will keep their promises."--"That infamous Fouché deceives you. The committee suffers itself, to be led by him. It will have severe reproaches to make itself. There is nobody in it worth any thing, except Caulincourt and Carnot: and they are badly fitted with associates. What can they do with a traitor, a couple of blockheads[74], and two chambers, that do not know what they would be at? You all believe, like innocents, the fine promises of the foreign powers. You believe, that they will give you a fowl in the pot, and a prince of your own liking, do you not? You deceive yourselves. Alexander, in spite of his magnanimous sentiments, suffers himself to be influenced by the English: he is afraid of them; and the Emperor of Austria will do, as he did in 1814, what others think proper."

[Footnote 74: This epithet was not an insult in the
mouth of Napoleon. He even applied it commonly to his
ministers, when they showed any irresolution.]

This conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Generals P. and Chartran. They had already been refused admittance twice: but this time they declared, that they would not go away, till they had spoken with the Emperor. Their business was, to get money from him. General Chartran, as fatally inspired as Labedoyère, told him, that he had ruined himself in his service; that the Bourbons were on the point of returning; that he should be shot, if he had not money to make his escape; and that money he must have. Napoleon caused a thousand crowns, to be given to each; and they went away. The Princess Hortensia, afraid that these illustrious Cossacks should do the Emperor some ill turn, would generously have given them whatever they asked. I had infinite difficulty in tranquillising her, and making her understand, that they had more design on the purse than the person of Napoleon.

After they were departed, Napoleon gave me some commands for Paris. I returned thither. The moment I entered the Tuileries, the committee had just been informed, that the enemy, after having beaten our troops, was advancing with all speed to Paris. This news rendered the government uneasy; and, as there was no orderly officer then at hand, the Duke of Vicenza requested me, to go and reconnoitre. I set off. On my arrival at the entrance of Bourget, I met General Reille with his army. He informed me, that the enemy was following him; but that there was no reason, to be in fear for the capital. "I know not what is passing there," said he to me; "but this very moment the brother of M. de Talleyrand was brought before me. He had with him a false passport, under the name of Petit. I had an inclination, to send him before the committee of government: but he declared to me, that he was employed by it on a mission as important as it was urgent; and as, at all events, one enemy more can do us no injury, I thought it better to let him pass, than risk the frustrating of his mission by useless delays." I hastened to return, to calm the anxiety of the government.

As soon as I was at liberty, I flew to Malmaison. Napoleon, who felt himself obliged by this continual posting, always condescended to receive me immediately. I gave him an account of every thing, that could be interesting to him. I did not omit to inform him, that the enemy was already master of part of the environs of Paris; and that it was important for him, to be on his guard. "I shall have no fear of them to-morrow," said he to me; "I have promised Decrès to set out, and I will be gone to-night. I am tired of myself, of Paris, of France. Make your preparations, and do not be out of the way."--"Sire," answered I, "when I promised yesterday, to attend your Majesty, I consulted only my attachment; but when I imparted this resolution to my mother, she conjured me by her gray hairs, not to desert her. Sire, she is seventy-four years old[75]: she is blind; my brothers have perished in the field of honour; she has only me, me alone in the world, to protect her: and I confess to your Majesty, that I had not the heart to refuse her."--"You have done well," said Napoleon to me, "you owe yourself to your mother: remain with her. If at some future time you should be master of your own actions, come to me: you will always be well received."--"Your Majesty is resolved, then," I replied, "to depart?"--"What would you have me do here now?"--"Your Majesty is right: but...."--"But what? would you have me remain?"--"Sire, I confess to your Majesty, I cannot look on your departure without alarm."--"In fact the path is difficult; but fortune and a fair wind...."--"Ah, Sire! fortune is no longer in our favour: besides, whither will your Majesty go?"--"I will go to the United States. They will give me land, or I will buy some, and we will cultivate it. I will end, where mankind began: I will live on the produce of my fields and my flock."--"That will be very well, Sire: but do you think, that the English will suffer you, to cultivate your fields in peace?"--"Why not? what harm could I do them?"--"What harm, Sire! Has your Majesty then forgotten, that you have made England tremble? As long as you are alive, Sire, or at least at liberty, she will dread the effects of your hatred and your genius. You were perhaps less dangerous to her on the degraded throne of Louis XVIII., than you would be in the United States. The Americans love and admire you: you have a great influence over them; and you would perhaps excite them to enterprises fatal to England."--"What enterprises? The English well know, that the Americans would lose their lives to a man in defence of their native soil; but they are not fond of making war abroad. They are not yet arrived at a pitch, to give the English any serious uneasiness. Some future day perhaps, they will be the avengers of the seas; but this period, which I might have had it in my power to accelerate, is now at a distance. The Americans advance to greatness but slowly."--"Admitting, that the Americans can give England no serious uneasiness at this moment, your presence in the United States will at least furnish it with an occasion, to stir up Europe against them. The combined powers will consider their work as imperfect, till you are in their possession; and they will compel the Americans, if not to deliver you up, at least to expel you from their territory."--"Well! then I will go to Mexico. I shall there find patriots, and will put myself at their head."--"Your Majesty forgets, that they have leaders already: people bring about revolutions for themselves, not for others; and the chiefs of the independents would be disconcerted by your Majesty's presence, if they did not oblige you, to seek an asylum elsewhere...."--"Well, I will leave them as they are; and go to Caracas; if I do not find myself well received there, I will go to Buenos Ayres; I will go to California; in fine, I will go from shore to shore, till I meet with an asylum against the malignancy and persecutions of men."--"Supposing your Majesty to speak seriously, can you reasonably flatter yourself with continually escaping the snares and fleets of the English?"--"If I cannot escape them, they will take me: their government is good for nothing, but the nation is great, noble, generous; they will treat me as I ought to be treated. After all, what would you have me do? Do you wish, that I should suffer myself to be taken here like a dolt by Wellington, and give him the pleasure of parading me in triumph through the streets of London like King John? Since my services are refused, there is but one step I can take: to depart. The destinies will do the rest."--"There is still another, Sire, if I dared suggest it to you: your Majesty is not a man to run away."--"What do you call running away?" said Napoleon with a proud and angry look: "where do you see me running away?"--"I entreat your Majesty not to dwell on that expression."--"Go on, go on."--"I think then, Sire, that your Majesty ought not thus to quit France, first, for your safety's sake, next for your honour's. The English are informed, that you have the intention of going to the United States; and no doubt our coasts already swarm with their cruisers. This is not all: your Majesty is aware of the hatred and perfidy of the Duke of Otranto: and who can say, whether secret orders have not been issued, to delay your departure, or retard the progress of the vessels, that you may be taken by the English? I consider it impossible, therefore, that your Majesty should escape them; or, if you should escape, but that you must ultimately fall into their hands, sooner or later. In this dilemma, it is right, at least, to endeavour to fall as nobly as possible."--"What are you driving at?" said Napoleon peevishly, thinking I meant to propose suicide to him: "I know, I might say, like Hannibal, 'Let us deliver them from the terror my name inspires:' but suicide is the business only of minds not thoroughly steeled, or of distempered brains. _Whatever my destiny may be, I will never hasten my end a single moment._"--"Such is not my meaning, Sire; and, since your Majesty condescends to listen to me, were I in your place, I would renounce the chimerical hope of finding an asylum in a foreign country; and I would say to the chambers: I abdicated, in order to disarm our enemies; I learn, that they are not satisfied; if they must have my liberty, or my life, I am ready, to place myself in their hands, happy to be able at this price, to save France and my son. How noble it would be," exclaimed I, "to see Napoleon the Great, after having laid down the crown placed on his head by twenty years of victory, offering himself as a sacrifice to the independence of his country!"--"Yes, yes," said Napoleon, "the sacrifice would be noble; but a nation of thirty millions of souls, that could suffer it, would be dishonoured for ever. Besides, to whom shall I surrender myself? to Blucher? to Wellington? They have not the power necessary, to treat with me on such conditions. They would begin with making me their prisoner; and then would do with me, and with France, whatever they took into their heads."--"I would surrender myself, Sire, to the Emperor Alexander."--"To Alexander! you know nothing of those Russians. It would cost the lives of both of us. However, your idea deserves consideration: I will reflect upon it. Before taking a step, that cannot be retracted, it is proper to look at it twice. The sacrifice of myself would be nothing on my own account; but perhaps it would be lost to France. The faith of an enemy is never to be trusted. See if Maret and Lavalette be here, and send them to me."

[Footnote 75: The uneasiness given her by the terrors of
1815 conducted her to the grave. I hope the reader will
pardon me these particulars, and this note.]

Every thing, that bears the stamp of greatness of mind, seduces and transports me. I confess, that my imagination was fired at the idea of Napoleon generously devoting himself for France, and for his son. But this remark of Napoleon's, "A nation of thirty millions of men, that could suffer such a sacrifice, would be for ever dishonoured," a remark that I had not foreseen, dissipated the enchantment. On quitting the closet, I was stopped by the Duke of Rovigo, who said to me: "You have been talking a long while with the Emperor, has any thing new passed?"--"No," answered I; "we have been talking of his departure:" and I gave him an account of our conversation. "Your advice was noble," replied he; "but what I gave him was, I think, preferable. It was, to come and fall with us before the walls of Paris. He will not do so; because, in the first place, Fouché will not leave it in his power; and, in the next, because the fear of endangering every thing has laid hold of him. He will set off to-night. God knows whither we shall go: but no matter, I will follow him. My first object is, to know that he is out of danger. Besides, I would rather ramble at a venture with him, than remain here. Fouché thinks, that he shall get himself out of the scrape: he is mistaken; he will be hanged like the rest, and more richly deserve it. France is sunk, lost! I wish I was dead!"

While I was conversing with the Duke of Rovigo, Napoleon was discussing the proposal, which I had ventured to submit to him. Several times he was on the point of adopting it; but still recurred to his prevailing idea, that such a sacrifice was unworthy a great nation; and that France probably would derive no more advantage from it, than had been derived from his abdication. All things considered, therefore, Napoleon resolved, to entrust his fate "to fortune and the winds." But the committee, advised by a despatch from our plenipotentiaries, which I shall transcribe farther on, "that the escape of Napoleon, before the conclusion of the negotiations, would be considered by the allies as an act of bad faith on our part, and would compromise the safety of France," directed him to be informed, that unforeseen political circumstances compelled it, to subject his departure anew to the arrival of the safeconduct. Thus Napoleon was obliged to remain.

I returned to Paris. Here I learned, that the enemy had made immense progress; and, according to custom, I was desirous of getting off, to acquaint Napoleon with it. The barriers were strictly closed, and no one could go out without permission. I endeavoured to obtain one. The Duke of Otranto answered me, that my presence with the cabinet was necessary; and ordered me to remain. I knew, that one Chauvin, who was to go with the Emperor, was setting out for Malmaison. I ran to acquaint him with what was passing; and directed him, to give the information to Count Bertrand. At the same moment M. G. D.[76], informed, I know not by what means, that the Prussians designed, to carry off the Emperor; that Blucher had said, "If I can catch Bonaparte, I will hang him up at the head of my army;" and that Wellington had strenuously opposed this cowardly and criminal design, M. G. D. hastened, to transmit this information to Napoleon; and soon after found means, by favour of his employment in the national guard, to repair in person to Malmaison. Napoleon made him relate at large all he knew. When he was acquainted with the position of the Prussians, he laid it down on the map[77], and said with a smile: "Aha! so I have suffered myself in fact to be turned." He then sent an orderly officer, to see whether the bridges of Bezons and Peck had been broken down. He found, that the latter was not. "I desired it, however: but I am not surprised at it."

[Footnote 76: From accounts communicated to me.]

[Footnote 77: That is, be marked out the enemy's
positions with pins.]

The Emperor then made some arrangements, to secure himself against a surprise: but these precautions were superfluous; he had found, without calling for it, an inviolable rampart against the enterprises of his enemies in the devotion of his old companions in arms. The soldiers, officers, and generals, posted in the direction of Malmaison, sent him assurances, that they would watch over him, and were ready to pour out their blood to the last drop in his defence. One of the commanders of the red lancers of the guard, the young de Brock, rendered himself particularly distinguished by his indefatigable zeal.

The schemes of Blucher, and the proximity of our troops to the place where the Emperor was detained, gave the committee the most serious alarms.

They had at once to fear:

That Napoleon, roused by the sound of arms, and the acclamations of his faithful soldiers, would be unable to repress the desire of coming to fight at their head:

That the army, still idolizing its ancient general, would come to tear him from his state of repose, and oblige him to lead it against the enemy:

Or, lastly, that the enemy would contrive to seize his person by surprise, or by force.

The removal of the Emperor to a distance would quiet at once this state of anxiety: but the despatch of the plenipotentiaries stood in the way; and the committee, restrained by the fear of offending the allies, dared not either oblige, or even authorize Napoleon to remove. Meantime the Duke of Wellington informed M. Bignon, "that he had no authority from his government, to give any answer whatever to the demand of a passport and safeconduct for Napoleon Bonaparte." Having no longer any plausible pretence for detaining him, and unwilling to take on itself the disgrace and responsibility of events, the committee no longer hesitated on the path it had to pursue: it directed the Duke Decrès and Count Boulay, to go immediately to the Emperor (it was half after three in the morning); to inform him, that Lord Wellington had refused the safeconducts; and to notify to him the injunction, to depart immediately.

The Emperor received this communication without any emotion, and promised to be gone in the course of the day.

Orders were immediately given to General Beker, not to allow him to return:

To the prefect of the Lower Charente, to prevent his stay at Rochefort, as far as possible:

To the commandant of the marine, not to suffer him to set foot on shore, from the moment he should embark, &c. &c. &c.

Never was criminal surrounded with precautions more numerous, and at the same time more useless.