When Napoleon earned immortal fame in Italy, he nourished and
dignified this passion by addressing his soldiers in language
breathing the lofty spirit of the heroic age, he rekindled the courage
of his army, and every man became a conqueror. But the royalist
officers sought to destroy all warlike sentiment by expressing their
contempt for our national victories, by displaying the puffed
insolence of birth and rank; and they lost the confidence and the
esteem of the army which they were appointed to command.
Widely different, indeed, was the example which was set by the most
exalted and most formidable of our enemies. It is needless to name
him. This sovereign never tried to undervalue our glory: he was only
happy when he could bear testimony again and again to the talents and
the courage of the French nation. When he received our officers he did
not treat them with that ill-concealed disdain, so often lavished on
the conquered, but with the honest esteem inspired by valour; and with
that delicacy, I would almost say respect, which is due to honourable
misfortune. The subject of his discourse sometimes compelled him to
allude to our reverses; but he never failed to allay the smart by
lavishing his praises on the efforts which we had made to deprive him
of victory. He seemed to be astonished that he had been able to
withstand us.
How deeply were our warriors affected when they contrasted his
chivalrous magnanimity with the endeavours of their royalist masters,
who tried incessantly to poison the fond recollection of their former
triumphs, and to deprive them of the only consolation which remained
to them in the hour of affliction.
Whatever discontent might prevail amongst the troops, yet the greater
part of the staff and regimental officers had transferred themselves
to the Bourbons with cordial sincerity. Perhaps a few, who were less
confident than the rest, still appeared distrustful and lukewarm; but
they might have been easily won over, either by those sugared and
alluring phrases which sound so sweetly when pronounced by royalty, or
even by merely leaving them quiet until their resentment could cool of
itself.
When Henry IV. recovered his throne, the bigoted partisans of the
league, whom he had pardoned, continued still to threaten and revile
him. It was suggested that he should punish them; but Henry said,
"No,--we must wait, they are yet vexed." Those who were constantly
invoking the memory of good king Henry, never sought to imitate his
conduct. Instead of allowing time to our generals to get over their
vexation, they embittered their temper by daily insults. Our officers
were treated like ruffian bandits; they were branded as rebels, who
were too happy if they obtained a pardon. Praise and favour fell only
to the share of the army of Conde, the Vendeans, and the Chouans. The
triumphal arches destined to eternize the exploits of our armies were
menaced with sacrilegious ruin; and it was solemnly proposed to erect
a monument to the memory of the Vendeans and the emigrants who fell at
Quiberon.
Certainly our deluded brethren deserved to be regretted and mourned.
Yet they had turned their weapons against the sacred bosom of their
country. They were either the auxiliaries or the hirelings of our
implacable enemies the English, and if honours were paid to them as
illustrious victims, it was equivalent to a declaration that their
conquerors were their murderers.
Our warriors had been graced with titles of nobility, bought with the
blood which they had shed in the defence of the country. Their honours
were treated with insolent scorn, and the ghost of Georges Cadoudal, a
murderer in effect, and a traitor in intent, was ennobled by the
gracious patent which was bestowed upon his father.
Georges in attempting the life of Napoleon had committed an act
against all law, whether human or divine. If such a crime was decked
out as a virtue, if signal rewards were allotted to the memory of the
criminal, the government abetted assassination and regicide. The
safety of Louis XVIII. and of every other monarch was compromised, and
a sanction was given to the dangerous and antisocial doctrine which
teaches that any individual may sit in judgment on the legitimacy of
the title of the occupier of the throne, and then determine to murder
his sovereign if he doubts the validity of his rights.
Other affronts exactly of the same complexion were offered to France
and to the army. Titles, military commissions, and pensions, were
showered, in La Vendee, upon the heads of such of the Chouans as were
most celebrated for their cruelty[9], and these marks of favour were
distributed amongst them in the presence of the victims of their
rapine and ferocity.
[Footnote 9: The Chouans never allowed the
opportunity of committing murder to escape them.
They carried their muskets as they walked by the
side of the plough, and the furrows which they trod
were frequently sprinkled with blood. The priests
who had taken the oaths, and the purchasers of
national domains, were particularly the objects of
the refinements of their cruelty. They seldom
entered a town without plundering the inhabitants,
and without slaughtering those who had been pointed
out to their vengeance.--_Lacretelle, Precis de la
Revolution._]
The members of the ruling faction thought that they had not done
enough in endeavouring to honour the French enemies of France at the
expense of her defenders, and therefore they compassed the degradation
and destruction of the institutions which reminded the people of the
praises and the glory of our national armies.
In despite of the most solemn engagements the government robbed the
legion of honour of its prerogatives. Then the ministerial papers
hinted that henceforward the order of St. Louis was to be the only
military order; and that the legion of honour was to be the reward of
civil merit. The blow was aimed at the heart; the army shuddered, our
marshals burned with indignation. The government was compelled to
disclaim and abandon its intent.
Yet one sure method of debasing the legion of honour was completely in
the power of government; they could make it cheap, and to this plan
they resorted. Under Napoleon the Cross was never granted until it had
been long and truly deserved: now it became the prey of meanness. The
order was prostituted and cast to favourite underlings and intriguers,
to whom it was distributed by caprice or bribery.
Our soldiers, who had purchased this distinction with their
blood,--the magistrates, the functionaries, the learned, the
manufacturers, who had received it as the reward of the services which
they had rendered to the state, to the arts, to useful industry,--all
were filled with consternation when they found themselves elbowed by a
mean and worthless mob. Yielding to their honest pride, the greater
part of our old legionaries refused to wear the insignia, which,
instead of conferring distinction, could only confound them with men
whom public opinion had branded and proscribed.
Success encouraged the government, and they did not stop. Richly
endowed asylums for the daughters of the deceased members of the
legion had been founded by the Emperor. Under the pretext of economy,
of saving the annual sum of forty thousand francs, the ministers took
the King by surprise, and hurried the Sovereign into the signature of
an order for turning the orphans out of doors. Marshal Macdonald
declared in vain that the old leaders of the army would never abandon
the children of their companions, and that they were ready to defray
the expense which was falsely assigned as the motive of the expulsion
of the girls. Equally fruitless was the generosity of Madame Delchan,
the matron of the establishment of Paris, who offered to continue its
management without any assistance from the government, and to expend
her entire fortune in the support of her pupils. Nor did the ministers
pay the least attention to those who stated that the greater part of
the children had neither friends nor relations, and that if they were
thrown destitute upon the world, they would be inevitably consigned to
misery or vice. No consideration could move the pity of the ministry.
But at length the indignation of the public found a voice in the Lower
House, and the representatives of the people were about to remonstrate
with the Sovereign. Ministers were disconcerted and abashed, and they
abandoned their profligate enterprise.
This check, however, did not amend them. A few days afterwards they
dissolved the military academies of St. Cyr and St. Germain, alleging
that they were superfluous; and at the same moment the "Ecole Royale
Militaire" was re-established, "in order that the nobility of the
kingdom might enjoy the advantages secured to them by the edict of
January 1757."
By this impudent violation of the principles of the charter our
representatives were again roused, and the ministers were again
obliged to recede.
Irritated by these defeats, they sought revenge and actuated by an
ill-judged hope of weakening the resisting obstacles, they dismissed a
countless multitude of military officers, who were turned out of the
army upon half pay, though their full pay had been formally
guarantied. It must be acknowledged that the number of the officers of
the imperial army was much greater than was required by the strength
of the royal army; but as it was alleged that they were useless and
expensive, it was not right to insult them in their misfortunes by
ministerial profusion; for, at the same time, they saw the government
granting rank and pay to a number of emigrants who were good for
nothing in the army. The government raised six thousand "gardes du
corps," troops of musketeers and light horse, "gendarmes de la garde,"
&c. who scandalized Paris, and disgusted the army by their new
epaulettes, and their sumptuous and splendid uniforms. Lastly, the
government, led on by its innovating madness, did not respect those
veterans whom Death had spared on the field of battle. Without pitying
age or infirmities, the ministers, using their accustomed pretext of
economy, withdrew the benefactions which a grateful nation had
bestowed upon two thousand five hundred of these objects of
compassion.
Since the ministers did not dread giving public offence to the army,
and in matters where the offence would be felt most acutely,--since
they refused to recognize both its services and its rights, it may be
easily supposed that the military were disgusted and oppressed when
they appeared before the ministry as individuals. It is not intended
to detail the complaints and accusations which then justly abounded;
but one fact may be stated as giving a double illustration of the
spirit which prevailed.
General Milhaud had distinguished himself in the course of our
national wars, by success and bravery. At the time when France was
invaded by the allies, he "covered himself with glory" at the head of
a handful of dragoons, who cut a considerable corps of the enemy's
troops entirely to pieces. This officer, in consequence of his rank,
his standing, and his services, had been appointed a chevalier de St.
Louis as a matter of right; but at the moment of his reception, the
cross was taken from him with ignominy, because he had been so
unfortunate as to vote for the death of the King twenty years before.
Louis XVIII., when he returned to France, had promised that he would
not inquire into the votes which had been given against his august
brother. This promise, which had been demanded from him, and which he
ratified by his charter, could not be otherwise than a painful victory
over the feelings of his heart. He must have grieved when he found
himself under the necessity of admitting those judges into his court,
who had condemned Louis XVI. to the scaffold, and to present them to
the daughter of the murdered monarch. But still he had sworn not to
avenge his death, and the oaths by which a monarch binds himself to
his people should be inviolable.
All resentment was to be repressed. The voters had been pardoned, and
therefore the government could not be justified in reviving the memory
of their crime, and in bringing down vengeance and death upon their
heads. A funeral veil ought to have been drawn over that period of our
revolution, during which we were all equally misled or guilty.
Besides, we must state plainly and distinctly, that the grief excited
by the murder of Louis XVI., was not the true cause of the invectives
with which the regicides were assailed by the emigrants. Unfortunately
the effect produced at Coblentz by the trial and execution of the
king, is too well known. If the errors of some of the men of the
revolution were hunted out with so much malignant zeal, it was only
for the purpose of coming to this result--that as the revolution was
the work of crime, it was necessary to root out every thing which had
proceeded from the revolution.
The insult to which General Milhaud was subjected, was therefore
rather a political movement, than a punishment inflicted on an
individual. In selecting Milhaud as the object of the first assault
against the regicides, the government gave a proof of their want of
tact; for if they wanted to render the regicides contemptible or
odious, they should have avoided attacking an officer who had long
since washed away the stains of the blood of his King, by imbruing
himself in the blood of our enemies!
But whilst the military, from the highest to the lowest, were exposed
to the persecution and tyranny of the prevailing faction, the
magistracy, and the civil functionaries of the state, suffered no less
from ill treatment and injustice. Commissioners had been despatched
into the departments, even at the beginning of the new reign, "in
order to consolidate the royal government, and to examine into the
conduct of the public functionaries under existing circumstances;"
that is to say, at the moment of the restoration of the Bourbons.
Such was the confidence which the nation placed in the promises of the
King, that no jealousy was excited by this measure. On the contrary,
people expected that great good would result from it, that party heat
would be allayed, and public interest and opinion become more speedily
united to the throne.
This pleasing illusion was soon dispelled. A great number of
emigrants, who had just come in again, were appointed commissioners.
Instead of listening to cool and experienced advisers, they gave
themselves up to the priests and nobles who beset them, and who were
neither moderate nor enlightened.
The middling classes, who, from their habitual intercourse with the
lower orders, possess so great an influence over the body of the
people, were considered by the commissioners as a rabble multitude of
upstart "_roturiers_." They treated the middling class with disdain
and contempt. Deceived by the recollection of the excesses of the
revolution, they fancied, that whoever could win the populace, became
the ruler of the country. When money is not to be had, the surest way
of getting over the multitude, is by appealing to its passions. They
therefore announced, that they were sent to do justice to the people,
to listen to their complaints, to reform abuses, and to abolish the
"_droits reunis_," and the conscription.
Meetings were announced in the villages and in the country towns. All
persons of respectability kept away; but the populace, who are always
delighted with uproar and novelty, crowded in. There was no end to the
preposterous charges which were preferred against the magistrates, the
prefects, the under-prefects, the mayors, the administrators of
public affairs, the officers of revenue; in short, none of the
depositaries of public authority were spared.
Instead of despising such accusations, or submitting them to an
impartial inquiry, the commissioners hailed the popular clamour with
transport. They triumphed in the tumult; they were overflowing with
happiness at the fancied success of their efforts; they continued
exclaiming with increasing joy, "that is right, Good People; the King
is your father; these fellows are nothing but _canaille_; upon our
word of honour, we will kick them out."
These promises were kept. The public officers and functionaries of all
classes were gradually dismissed, and their places given to informers,
or to the old nobility. As the common people cooled, they became
undeceived, and it was found that they had gained neither in riches
nor in loyalty. The commissioners, instead of adding as they expected
to the popularity of the government, only helped to cry it down. The
cause of royalty was compromised by the scenes of riot which they
encouraged, and they degraded it by acts of injustice and oppression.
The non-emigrant commissioners acted far otherwise. They knew how to
value the lying declamations of the nobles, and of the mob whom the
nobles had set on. From the different conduct pursued by each party,
effects resulted which exhibited the most striking contrast. In one
department the public functionaries retained their situations, in
another they were disgraced and vituperated.
These scandalous proceedings excited the general indignation of the
country. The government was universally blamed. The important task of
instituting inquiries, which were to affect the honour and the civil
existence of the most respectable characters, had been entrusted to
emigrants who had lived amongst strangers during the best part of
their lives. And these men, who knew nothing of the forms, the
principles, or even the faults of the imperial government, were
consequently wholly unable to appreciate the conduct, whether
praiseworthy or blameable, of the depositaries of public authority.
The people discovered that they had been cheated, and that this
measure, disguised by specious representations, was in truth adopted
only for the purpose of more effectually displacing the old
functionaries of the nation. And, lastly, it was evident that this
general dismission would carry off those authorities who were the
natural guardians of every individual who had taken a part in the
revolution. And that all who were thus affected would be placed
beneath the sway of their sworn enemies, the nobles, the priests, and
their adherents.
Indications were given by the government that a "purification" of the
courts of justice was in contemplation; and the public apprehension
increased. The independence and immovability of the judges had been
guaranteed to the nation, and this guarantee was certainly the most
valuable of the rights which we had gained. But on account of its
importance, the government were the more desirous of violating it.
When the proposed "purification" became known, our national
magistrates trembled in their chairs, and they foresaw that they would
be plucked out for the purpose of making way for the antiquated
survivors of the courts of parliament.
The nation was alarmed, and protested against the measure. But the
"purification" was not to be stopped in its swoop. The process began
in the supreme tribunal of the kingdom, the Court of Cassation. And,
to remove all doubts respecting the ulterior object of the government,
it was officially announced that the _elimination_, disguised under
the name of the "installation royale," had been deferred only for the
purpose of "obtaining the information which was necessary to direct or
decide the choice of the judges, and that it would take place
successively in all the courts and tribunals of the kingdom."
The "installation" was felt to be not only a breach of faith, but an
open conspiracy against the security of the person and property of the
subject. We knew that the tribunals would now be filled with
magistrates whose prejudices, principles, and interest, must be in
perpetual hostility against our national laws, and that the new men
would seek to elude or crush our juridical system. The royal
magistrates, as it was but too evident, would be the relations, the
friends, or the creatures of the nobility, the emigrants, and of all
who claimed to be restored to their rights and privileges. Nor could
we hope that judges so constituted would deal out impartial justice
between the ci-devant privileged tribes, whom they would naturally
consider as the victims of revolutionary principles, and the children
of the revolution, who, according to the same mode of reasoning, they
could not fail to consider as the oppressors and robbers of the
privileged tribes.
The owners of national property were most alarmed by the approaching
expulsion of the revolutionary judges. By the charter, the
inviolability of their property had been guaranteed to them. But they
had not forgotten that a violent debate arose on the "redaction" of
this article; and that the ministers had been already accused on
account of the obscurity of the clause, which they refused to correct
into such words as might prevent all future quibbling and special
pleading.
If the emigrants, the priesthood, and the nobility, did not scruple to
express their hopes aloud that the sales of the national domains might
be declared null and void, it was equally well known to the public
that certain Great Personages entertained the same hopes in secret.
Doubts respecting the legality, and, consequently, of the validity of
the sales, were expressed in the ministerial journals; and various
publications were industriously disseminated, in which the purchases
were directly impugned. The authors of these works were favoured and
protected[10]; and it was whispered that the Great Personages, to
whom we have already alluded, had deliberated on the means of
realizing their hopes. All these tokens of the times united in giving
too reasonable a ground for the apprehensions entertained by the
proprietors of the confiscated lands; and the disorganization of the
tribunals was considered as a national calamity.
[Footnote 10: M.M. David and Falconnet. In order to
appease the public indignation, a summons was
issued against these writers, it being stated in
the process that they had endeavoured to excite
civil war. There was no difficulty in guessing that
this proceeding was a farce, and that by
overcharging the crime it was the intention of the
government to favour the acquittal of the accused;
and accordingly they were acquitted.]
It is calculated that the individuals who are interested directly or
indirectly either in the purchases of the national domains, or in the
rights and liabilities arising out of them, amount in number to
somewhat between nine and ten millions.
An opportunity offered itself when all the uneasiness felt by this
integral portion of the population of France might have been removed.
It was when the law; by which the emigrants recovered possession of
such part of their property as had not been alienated, came under
consideration. It was natural to suppose that the administration would
take advantage of the capability of the proceeding, in order to revive
the confidence of the public, and to renew the guarantee of the
charter. Such was not their conduct. On the contrary, M. Ferrand, the
government orator, one of the men who did most mischief to the King
and the kingdom, abandoned himself--we borrow the expression of the
reporter of the committee--to all the acrimony of his passions, and
all the profligacy of his principles. His fury could only be equalled
by his folly. He did not scruple to maintain, in the midst of the
representatives of the nation, that the emigrants had the greatest
right to claim the justice and favour of the royal government, because
they alone had not wandered from the righteous path. And starting with
this position, he represented the forfeiture and sale of their
property, not as the justifiable acts of a legislative body, but as
revolutionary outrages and robberies which the nation ought to hasten
to make good.
The Chamber of Deputies passed their censure upon the inflammatory
doctrines and language of the royalist orator, and expunged the word
"restitution" from the law. It had not been inserted without design,
for "restitution" supposes a previous robbery, and the emigrants had
not been robbed of the property: it had been confiscated by virtue of
a law sanctioned by the King; and which law was only a new application
of the system of confiscation created and followed up by the King's
predecessors.