The Emperor had never shown himself so worthy of admiration as during
this fatal campaign in France, when, struggling against misfortunes, he
performed over again the prodigies of his first wars in Italy, when
fortune smiled on him. His career had begun with an attack, and the end
was marked by the most magnificent defense recorded in the annals of war.
And it may be said with truth that at all times and everywhere his
Majesty showed himself both the perfect general and the soldier, under
all circumstances furnishing an example of personal courage to such an
extent, indeed, that all those who surrounded him, and whose existence
was dependent on his own, were seriously alarmed. For instance, as is
well known, the Emperor, at the battle of Montereau, pointed the pieces
of artillery himself, recklessly exposed himself to the enemy's fire, and
said to his soldiers, who were much alarmed at his danger and attempted
to remove him, "Let me alone, my friends; the bullet which is to kill me
has not yet been molded."
At Arcis the Emperor again fought as a common soldier, and more than once
drew his sword in order to cut his way through the midst of the enemy who
surrounded him. A shell fell a few steps from his horse. The animal,
frightened, jumped to one side, and nearly unhorsed the Emperor, who,
with his field-glass in his hand, was at the moment occupied in examining
the battlefield. His Majesty settled himself again firmly in his saddle,
stuck his spurs in the horse's sides, forced him to approach and put his
nose to it. Just then the shell burst, and, by an almost incredible
chance, neither the Emperor nor his horse was even wounded.
In more than one similar circumstance the Emperor seemed, during this
campaign, to put his life at a venture; and yet it was only in the last
extremity that he abandoned the hope of preserving his throne. It was a
painful sacrifice to him to treat with the enemy so long as they occupied
French territory; for he wished to purge the soil of France of the
presence of foreigners before entering into any agreement with them
whatever. And this feeling was the reason of his hesitation and refusal
to accept the peace which was offered him on various occasions.
On the 8th of February, the Emperor, at the end of a long discussion with
two or three of his intimate advisers, retired very late, and in a state
of extreme preoccupation. He woke me often during the night, complaining
of being unable to sleep, and made me extinguish and relight his lamp
again and again. About five o'clock in the morning I was called again.
I was almost fainting with fatigue, which his Majesty noticed, and said
to me kindly, "You are worn out, my poor Constant; we are making a
severe campaign, are we not? But hold out only a little longer; you will
soon rest."
Encouraged by the sympathizing tones of his Majesty, I took the liberty
of replying that no one could think of complaining of the fatigue or
privations he endured, since they were shared by his Majesty; but that,
nevertheless, the desire and hope of every one were for peace. "Ah,
yes," replied the Emperor, with a kind of subdued violence, "they will
have peace; they will realize what a dishonorable peace is!" I kept
silence; his Majesty's chagrin distressed me deeply; and I wished at this
moment that his army could have been composed of men of iron like
himself, then he would have made peace only on the frontiers of France.
The tone of kindness and familiarity in which the Emperor spoke to me on
this occasion recalls another circumstance which I neglected to relate in
its proper place, and which I must not pass over in silence, since it
furnishes such a fine example of his Majesty's conduct towards the
persons of his service, and especially myself. Roustan witnessed the
occurrence, and it was from him I learned the opening details.
In one of his campaigns beyond the Rhine (I do not remember which), I had
passed several nights in succession without sleep, and was exhausted.
The Emperor went out at eleven o'clock, and remained three or four hours;
and I seated myself in his armchair, near his table, to await his return,
intending to rise and retire as soon as I heard him enter, but was so
exhausted with fatigue that sleep suddenly overtook me, and I dropped
into a deep slumber, my head resting on my arm, and my arm on his
Majesty's table. The Emperor returned at last with Marshal Berthier, and
followed by Roustan. I heard nothing. The Prince de Neuchatel wished to
approach and shake me that I might awake and resign to his Majesty his
seat and table; but the Emperor stopped him, saying, "Let the poor fellow
sleep; he has passed many nights with none." Then, as there was no other
chair in the apartment, the Emperor seated himself on the edge of the
bed, made the marshal also seat himself there, and they held a long
conversation while I continued to sleep. At length, needing one of the
maps from the table on which my arm rested, his Majesty, although he drew
it out most cautiously, awoke me; and I immediately sprang to my feet,
overwhelmed with confusion, and excusing myself for the liberty I had so
involuntarily taken. "Monsieur Constant," the Emperor then said with an
exceedingly kind smile, "I am distressed to have disturbed you. Pray,
excuse me." I trust that this, in addition to what I have already
related of the same nature, may serve as an answer to those who have
accused him of harshness to his servants. I resume my recital of the
events of 1814.
On the night of the 8th the Emperor seemed to have decided on making
peace; and the whole night was spent in preparing dispatches, which on
the morning of the 9th at nine o'clock were brought to him to sign; but
he had changed his mind. At seven o'clock he had received news from the
Russian and Prussian army; and when the Duke of Bassano entered, holding
in his hand the dispatches to be signed, his Majesty was asleep over the
maps where he had stuck his pens. "Ah, it is you," said he to his
minister; "we will no longer need those. We are now laying plans to
attack Blucher; he has taken the road from Montmirail. I am about to
start. To-morrow I will fight, and again the next day. The aspect of
affairs is on the point of changing, as we shall see. Let us not be
precipitate; there is time enough to make such a peace as they propose."
An hour after we were on the road to Sezanne.
For several days in succession after this, the heroic efforts of the
Emperor and his brave soldiers were crowned with brilliant success.
Immediately on their arrival at Champ-Aubert, the army, finding itself in
presence of the Russian army corps, against which they had already fought
at Brienne, fell on it without even waiting to take repose, separated it
from the Prussian army, and took the general-in-chief and several general
officers prisoners. His Majesty, whose conduct towards his conquered
foes was always honorable and generous, made them dine at his table, and
treated them with the greatest consideration.
The enemy were again beaten at the Farm des Frenaux by Marshals Ney and
Mortier, and by the Duke of Ragusa at Vaux-Champs, where Blucher again
narrowly escaped being made prisoner. At Nangis the Emperor dispersed
one hundred and fifty thousand men commanded by the Prince von
Schwarzenberg, and ordered in pursuit of them Marshals Oudinot,
Kellermann, Macdonald, and Generals Treilhard and Gerard.
The eve of the battle of Wry, the Emperor inspected all the surroundings
of this little town; and his observing glasses rested on an immense
extent of marshy ground in the midst of which is the village of Bagneux,
and at a short distance the village of Anglure, past which the Aube
flows. After rapidly passing over the unsafe ground of these dangerous
marshes, he set foot on solid ground, and seated himself on a bundle of
reeds, and there, leaning against the wall of a night-hunter's hut, he
unrolled his map of the campaign; and, after examining it a few moments,
remounted his horse and set off at a gallop.
At this moment a flock of teal and snipe flew up before his Majesty; and
he exclaimed laughingly: "Go, go, my beauties; make room for other game."
His Majesty said to those around him, "This time we have them!"
The Emperor was galloping towards Anglure, in order to see if the hill of
Baudemont, which is near this village, was occupied by the artillery,
when the noise of cannon heard in the direction of Wry compelled him to
retrace his steps; and he accordingly returned to Wry, saying to the
officers who accompanied him, "Let us gallop, gentlemen, our enemies are
in a hurry; we should not keep them waiting." A half hour after he was
on the battlefield. Enormous clouds of smoke from the burning of Wry
were driven in the faces of the Russian and Prussian columns, and partly
hid the maneuvers of the French army. At that moment everything
indicated the success of the plans the Emperor had formed that morning in
the marshes of Bagneux, for all went well. His Majesty foresaw the
defeat of the allies, and France saved, while at Anglure all were given
up to despair. The population of many villages shuddered at the approach
of the enemy; for not a piece of cannon was there to cut off their
retreat, not a soldier to prevent them from crossing the river.
The position of the allies was so exceedingly critical that the whole
French army believed them destroyed, as they had plunged with all their
artillery into the marshes, and would have been mowed down by the shower
of balls from our cannon if they had remained there. But suddenly they
were seen to make a new effort, place themselves in line of battle, and
prepare to pass the Aube. The Emperor, who could pursue them no farther
without exposing his army to the danger of being swallowed up in the
marshes, arrested the impetuosity of his soldiers, believing that the
heights of Baudemont were covered with artillery ready to overwhelm the
enemy; but hearing not a single shot in this direction, he hurried to
Sezanne to hasten the advance of the troops, only to learn that those he
expected to find there had been sent toward Fere Champenoise.
During this interval, a man named Ansart, a land owner at Anglure,
mounted his horse, and hurried at the utmost speed to Sezanne in order to
inform the marshal that the enemy were pursued by the Emperor, and about
to cross the Aube. Having reached the Duke, and seeing that the corps he
commanded was not taking the road to Anglure, he hastened to speak.
Apparently the Emperor's, orders had not been received; for the marshal
would not listen to him, treated him as a spy, and it was with much
difficulty this brave man escaped being shot.
While this scene was taking place, his Majesty had already reached
Sezanne; and seeing many inhabitants of this village around him, he
requested some one to guide him to Fere Champenoise, whereupon a bailiff
presented himself. The Emperor immediately set out, escorted by the
officers who had accompanied him to Sezanne, and left the town, saying to
his guide, "Go in front, monsieur, and take the shortest road." Arrived
at a short distance from the battlefield of Fere Champenoise, his Majesty
saw that every report of the artillery made the poor bailiff start. "You
are afraid," said the Emperor to him. "No, Sire."--"Then, what makes you
dodge your head?"--"It is because I am not accustomed like your Majesty
to hearing all this uproar."--"One should accustom himself to everything.
Fear nothing; keep on." But the guide, more dead than alive, reined in
his horse, and trembled in every limb. "Come, come; I see you are really
afraid. Go behind me." He obeyed, turned his horse's head, and galloped
as far as Sezanne without stopping, promising himself most faithfully
never again to serve as guide to the Emperor on such an occasion.
At the battle of Mery, the Emperor, under the very fire of the enemy, had
a little bridge thrown over the river which flows near the town. This
bridge was constructed in an hour by means of ladders fastened together,
and supported by wooden beams; but as this was not sufficient, it was
necessary that planks should be placed on this. None could be found,
however; for those who might have been able to procure them did not dare
to approach the exposed spot his Majesty occupied at this moment.
Impatient, and even angry, because he could not obtain the planks for
this bridge, his Majesty had the shutters of several large houses a short
distance from the river taken down, and had them placed and nailed down
under his own eyes. During this work he was tormented by intense thirst,
and was about to dip water up in his hand to slake it, when a young girl,
who had braved danger in order to draw near the Emperor, ran to a
neighboring house, and brought him a glass of water and some wine, which
he eagerly drank.
Astonished to see this young girl in so perilous a place, the Emperor
said to her, smiling, "You would make a brave soldier, Mademoiselle; and
if you are willing to wear epaulets you shall be one of my aides-de-
camp." The young girl blushed, and made a courtesy to the Emperor, and
was going away, when he held out his hand to her, and she kissed it.
"Later," he said, "come to Paris, and remind me of the service you have
rendered me to-day. You will be satisfied of my gratitude." She thanked
the Emperor and withdrew, very proud of his words of commendation.
The day of the battle of Nangis an Austrian officer came in the evening
to headquarters, and had a long, secret conference with his Majesty.
Forty-eight hours after, at the close of the engagement at Mery, appeared
a new envoy from the Prince von Schwarzenberg, with a reply from the
Emperor of Austria to the confidential letter which his Majesty had
written two days before to his father-in-law. We had left Mery in
flames; and in the little hammock of Chatres, where headquarters had been
established, there could no shelter be found for his Majesty except in
the shop of a wheelwright; and the Emperor passed the night there,
working, or lying on the bed all dressed, without sleeping. It was there
also he received the Austrian envoy, the Prince of Lichtenstein. The
prince long remained in conversation with his Majesty; and though nothing
was known of the subject of their conversation, no one doubted that it
related to peace. After the departure of the prince, the Emperor was in
extraordinarily high spirits, which affected all those around him.
Our army had taken from the enemy thousands of prisoners; Paris had just
received the Russian and Prussian banners taken at Nangis and Montereau;
the Emperor had put to flight the foreign sovereigns, who even feared for
a time that they might not be able to regain the frontiers; and the
effect of so much success had been to restore to his Majesty his former
confidence in his good fortune, though this was unfortunately only a
dangerous illusion.
The Prince of Lichtenstein had hardly left headquarters when M. de Saint-
Aignan, the brother-in-law of the Duke of Vicenza, and equerry of the
Emperor, arrived. M. de Saint-Aignan went, I think, to his brother-in-
law, who was at the Congress of Chatillon, or at least had been; for the
sessions of this congress had been suspended for several days. It seems
that before leaving Paris M. de Saint-Aignan held an interview with the
Duke of Rovigo and another, minister, and they had given him a verbal
message to the Emperor. This mission was both delicate and difficult.
He would have much preferred that these gentlemen should have sent in
writing the communications which they insisted he should bear to his
Majesty, but they refused; and as a faithful servant M. de Saint-Aignan
performed his duty, and prepared to speak the whole truth, whatever
danger he might incur by so doing.
When he arrived at the wheelwright's shop at Chatres, the Emperor, as we
have just seen, was abandoning himself to most brilliant dreams; which
circumstance was most unfortunate for M. de Saint-Aignan, since he was
the bearer of disagreeable news. He came, as we have learned since, to
announce to his Majesty that he should not count upon the public mind at
the capital, since they were murmuring at the prolongation of the war,
and desired that the Emperor should seize the occasion of making peace.
It has even been stated that the word disafection was uttered during this
secret conference by the sincere and truthful lips of M. de Saint-Aignan.
I cannot assert that this is true; for the door was closely shut, and M.
de Saint-Aignan spoke in a low tone. It is certain, however, that his
report and his candor excited his Majesty's anger to the highest degree;
and in dismissing him with an abruptness he had certainly not merited,
the Emperor raised his voice to such a pitch as to be heard outside.
When M. de Saint-Aignan withdrew, and his Majesty summoned me to my
duties near him, I found him much agitated, and pale with anger. A few
hours after this scene the Emperor ordered his horse, and M. de Saint-
Aignan, who had resumed his duties as equerry, approached to hold his
stirrup; but as soon as the Emperor perceived him he threw on him an
angry glance, made him a sign to withdraw, exclaiming loudly,
"Mesgrigny!" This was Baron de Mesgrigny, another of his Majesty's
squires. In compliance with his Majesty's wishes, M. de Mesgrigny
performed the duties of M. de Saint-Aignan, who withdrew to the rear of
the army to wait till the storm should be past. At the end of a few days
his disgrace was ended, and all who knew him rejoiced; for the Baron de
Saint-Aignan was beloved by all for his affability and loyalty.
From Chatres the Emperor marched on Troyes. The enemy who occupied this
town seemed at first disposed to defend themselves there, but soon
yielded, and evacuated it at the close of a capitulation. During the
short time the, allies passed at Troyes, the Royalists had publicly
announced their hatred to the Emperor, and their adherence to the allied
powers, who came, they said, only to establish the Bourbons on the
throne, and even had the imprudence to display the white flag and white
cockade; and the foreign troops had consequently protected them, while
exercising extreme harshness and severity towards those inhabitants who
held contrary opinions.
Unfortunately for the Royalists they were in a very feeble minority, and
the favor shown to them by the Russians and Prussians led the populace
oppressed by the latter to hate the proteges as much as their protectors.
Even before the entrance of the Emperor into Troyes, Royalist
proclamations addressed to the officers of his household or the army had
fallen into his hands. He had showed no anger, but had urged those who
had received, or who might receive, communications of this nature, to
destroy them, and to inform no one of the contents. On his arrival at
Troyes his Majesty rendered a decree proclaiming penalty of death against
all Frenchmen in the service of the enemy, and those who wore the emblems
and decorations of the ancient dynasty. An unfortunate emigre, accused
before a council of war, was convicted of having worn the cross of St.
Louis and the white cockade during the stay of the allies at Troyes, and
of having furnished to the foreign generals all the information in his
power.
The council pronounced sentence of death, for the proofs were positive,
and the law not less so; and Chevalier Gonault fell a victim to his ill-
judged devotion to a cause which was still far from appearing national,
especially in the departments occupied by the allied armies, and was
executed according to military usage.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
A sad sort of consolation that is drawn from reprisals
Borrowing, which uses up the resources of the future
For a retreating enemy it is necessary to make a bridge of gold
Make a bridge of gold, or oppose a wall of brass
Paper money, which is the greatest enemy of social order
Rise and decline of stocks was with him the real thermometer
The more I concede the more they demand