The Allies approach Paris--Maria Louisa retires to Blois--Marmont
and Mortier occupy the Heights of Montmartre--They are
defeated--King Joseph escapes--Marmont capitulates--the Allies
enter Paris--Napoleon at Fontainebleau--His abdication.
Napoleon continued for several days to manoeuvre on the country beyond
St. Dizier. Having thus seized the roads by which the Grand Army had
advanced, he took prisoners many persons of distinction on their way to
its headquarters--and at one time the Emperor of Austria himself escaped
most narrowly a party of French hussars. Meanwhile petty skirmishes were
ever and anon occurring between Napoleon's rear-guard and Austrians,
whom he took for the van-guard of Schwartzenberg. They were, however,
detached troops, chiefly horse, left expressly to hang on his march, and
cheat him into this belief. The Grand Army was proceeding rapidly down
the Seine; while Blucher, having repeatedly beaten Marmont and Mortier,
was already within sight of Meaux.
It has been mentioned that Napoleon, ere he commenced his campaign,
directed some fortifications to be thrown up on the side of Paris
nearest to the invading armies. His brother Joseph, however, was, as
Spain had witnessed, neither an active nor a skilful soldier; and the
civil government of this tempestuous capital appears to have been more
than enough to employ what energies he possessed. The outworks executed
during the campaign were few and inconsiderable; and to occupy them,
there were now but 8000 fresh regulars, the discomfited divisions of
Marmont and Mortier, and the National Guard of the metropolis. This last
corps had 30,000 names on its roll: but such had been the manifestations
of public feeling, that the Emperor's lieutenants had not dared to
furnish more than a third of these with firearms: the others had only
pikes: and every hour increased the doubts of the Regency-council
whether any considerable portion of these men--who were chiefly, in
fact, the shopkeepers of Paris--would consent to shed their blood in
this cause.
Meanwhile the royalists within the city had been watching the progress
of events with eagerness and exultation. Talleyrand was ere now in close
communication with them, and employing all the resources of his talents
to prevail on them to couple their demand for the heir of the Bourbons,
with such assertions of their belief that that dynasty ought never to be
re-established otherwise than on a constitutional basis, as might draw
over to their side the more moderate of the republicans. Nor had these
efforts been unsuccessful. Various deputations from the royalists had
found their way to the headquarters, both of Blucher and Schwartzenberg,
before the middle of March, and expressed sentiments of this nature. As
yet, however, none of the Allies had ventured to encourage directly the
hopes of the Bourbon party. They persisted in asserting their resolution
to let the French nation judge for themselves under what government they
should live; and to take no part in their civil feuds. Talleyrand
himself was in correspondence with the Czar; but, in his letters, he, as
far as is known, confined himself to urging the advance of the armies. A
billet from him was delivered to Alexander just before the final rush on
Paris begun: it was in these words--"You venture nothing, when you may
safely venture everything--venture once more."
De Pradt, and many other of those statesmen whom Napoleon, in latter
days, had disgraced or disobliged, were, ere this time, labouring
diligently in the same service. It must be admitted that he, like the
falling Persian, was
"Deserted in his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed;"
but he had brought himself to this extremity by his scorn of their
counsels; nor even at the eleventh hour did his proud heart dream of
recalling confidence, by the confession of error.
On the 26th of March, the distant roaring of artillery was heard at
intervals on the boulevards of Paris; and the alarm began to be violent.
On the 27th (Sunday) Joseph Buonaparte held a review in the Place
Carousel; and the day being fine, and the uniforms mostly new, the
confidence of the spectators rose, and the newspapers expressed their
wishes that the enemy could but behold what forces were ready to meet
and destroy them. That same evening the Allies passed the Marne at
various points; at three in the morning of the 28th, they took Meaux;
and at daybreak, "the terrified population of the country between Meaux
and Paris came pouring into the capital," says an eye-witness, "with
their aged, infirm, children, cats, dogs, live-stock, corn, hay, and
household goods of every description. The boulevards were crowded with
waggons, carts, and carriages thus laden, to which cattle were tied, and
the whole surrounded with women." The regular troops now marched out of
the town, leaving all the barriers in charge of the National Guard. The
confusion that prevailed everywhere was indescribable.
On the 29th, the Empress, her son, and most of the members of the
Council of State, set off, attended by 700 soldiers, for
Rambouillet--from which they continued their journey to Blois--and in
their train went fifteen waggons laden with plate and coin from the
vaults of the Tuileries. The spectators looked on their departure in
gloomy silence: and King Joseph published the following proclamation;
"Citizens of Paris! A hostile column has descended on Meaux. It
advances; but the Emperor follows close behind, at the head of a
victorious army. The Council of Regency has provided for the safety of
the Empress and the King of Rome. I remain with you. Let us arm
ourselves to defend this city, its monuments, its riches, our wives, our
children--all that is dear to us. Let this vast capital become a camp
for some moments; and let the enemy find his shame under the walls which
he hopes to overleap in triumph. The Emperor marches to our succour.
Second him by a short and vigorous resistance, and preserve the honour
of France." No feeling favourable to Napoleon was stirred by this
appeal. The boulevards continued to be thronged with multitudes of
people; but the most part received the proclamation with
indifference--not a few with murmurs. Some officers urged Savary to have
the streets unpaved, and persuade the people to arm themselves with the
stones, and prepare for a defence such as that of Zaragossa. He
answered, shaking his head, "the thing cannot be done."
All day, waggons of biscuit and ammunition were rolling through the
town; wounded soldiers came limping to the barriers; and the Seine
heaved thicker and thicker with the carcases of horses and men. That
night, for once, the theatres were deserted.
On the 30th, the Allies fought and won the final battle. The French
occupied the whole range of heights from the Marne at Charenton, to the
Seine beyond St. Denis; and the Austrians began the attack about eleven
o'clock, towards the former of these points, while nearly in the midst
between them, a charge was made by the Russians on Pantin and
Belleville. The Prussians, who were posted over against the heights of
Montmartre, did not come into action so early in the day. The French
troops of the line were stationed everywhere in the front, and commanded
by Marmont and Mortier. Those battalions of the National Guard, whose
spirit could be trusted, and who were adequately armed, took their
orders from Moncey, and formed a second line of defence. The scholars of
the Polytechnic School volunteered to serve at the great guns, and the
artillery was, though not numerous, well arranged, and in gallant hands.
The French defence, in spite of all the previous disasters, and of the
enormous superiority of the enemy's numbers, was most brave: but by two
o'clock the Allies had completely beaten them at all points, except only
at Montmartre, where they were rapidly making progress. Marmont then
sent several aides-de-camp to request an armistice, and offer a
capitulation. One only of his messengers appears to have reached the
headquarters of the sovereigns--and both the Czar and King of Prussia
immediately professed their willingness to spare the city, provided the
regular troops would evacuate it. Blucher, meanwhile, continued pressing
on at Montmartre, and shortly after four, the victory being completed in
that direction, the French cannon were turned on the city, and shot and
shells began to spread destruction within its walls. The capitulation
was drawn up at five o'clock, close to the barrier St. Denis.
King Joseph showed himself on horseback among the troops early in the
morning; but was not visible after the attack began. At one o'clock he
received a message from Marmont, requesting reinforcements. "Where am I
to find them?" answered he--"is your horse a good one?" The aide-de-camp
answered in the affirmative. "Then follow me," said Joseph; and without
further ceremony began his journey to Blois.[66]
We must now turn to Napoleon. It was not until the 27th that he
distinctly ascertained the fact of both the allied armies having marched
directly on Paris. He instantly resolved to hasten after them, in hopes
to arrive on their rear, ere yet they had mastered the heights of
Montmartre; nor did his troops refuse to rush forward once more at his
bidding. He had to go round by Doulevent and Troyes, because the direct
route was utterly wasted, and could not furnish food for his men. At
Doulevent he received a billet from La Vallette, his Post-Master
General, in these terms: "The partisans of the stranger are making head,
seconded by secret intrigues. The presence of the Emperor is
indispensable--if he desires to prevent his capital from being delivered
to the enemy. There is not a moment to be lost." Urging his advance
accordingly with renewed eagerness--Buonaparte reached Troyes on the
night of the 29th--his men having marched fifteen leagues since the
daybreak. On the 30th, Macdonald in vain attempted to convince him that
the fate of Paris must have been decided ere he could reach it, and
advised him to march without further delay so as to form a conjunction
with Augereau. "In that case," said the marshal, "we may unite and
repose our troops, and yet give the enemy battle on a chosen field. If
Providence has decreed our last hour, we shall, at least, die with
honour, instead of being dispersed, pillaged, and slaughtered by
Cossacks." Napoleon was deaf to all such counsel. He continued to
advance. Finding the road beyond Troyes quite clear, he threw himself
into a postchaise, and travelled on before his army at full speed, with
hardly any attendance. At Villeneuve L'Archeveque he mounted on
horseback, and galloping without a pause, reached Fontainebleau late in
the night. He there ordered a carriage, and taking Caulaincourt and
Berthier into it, drove on towards Paris. Nothing could shake his belief
that he was yet in time--until, while he was changing horses at La Cour
de France, but a few miles from Paris, General Belliard came up, at the
head of a column of cavalry--weary and dejected men, marching towards
Fontainebleau, in consequence of the provisions of Marmont's
capitulation, from the fatal field of Montmartre.
Even then Napoleon refused to halt. Leaping from his carriage, he began:
"What means this? Why here with your cavalry, Belliard? And where are
the enemy? Where are my wife and my boy? Where Marmont? Where Mortier?"
Belliard walking by his side, told him the events of the day. He called
out for his carriage--and insisted on continuing his journey. The
general in vain informed him that there was no longer an army in Paris;
that the regulars were all coming behind, and that neither they nor he
himself, having left the city in consequence of a convention, could
possibly return to it. The Emperor still demanded his carriage, and bade
Belliard turn with the cavalry and follow him. "Come," said he, "we must
to Paris--nothing goes aright when I am away--they do nothing but
blunder." He strode on, crying, "You should have held out longer--you
should have raised Paris--they cannot like the Cossacks--they would
surely have defended their walls--Go! go! I see every one has lost his
senses. This comes of employing fools and cowards." With such
exclamations Buonaparte hurried onwards, dragging Belliard with him,
until they were met, a mile from La Cour de France, by the first of the
retreating infantry. Their commander, General Curial, gave the same
answers as Belliard. "In proceeding to Paris," said he, "you rush on
death or captivity." Perceiving at length that the hand of necessity was
on him, the Emperor then abandoned his design. He sank at once into
perfect composure; gave orders that the troops, as they arrived, should
draw up behind the little river Essonne; despatched Caulaincourt to
Paris, with authority to accept whatever terms the Allied Sovereigns
might be pleased to offer; and turned again towards Fontainebleau.
It was still dark when Napoleon reached once more that venerable castle.
He retired to rest immediately; not, however, in any of the state-rooms
which he had been accustomed to occupy, but in a smaller apartment, in a
different and more sequestered part of the building.
The Duke of Vicenza reached the Czar's quarters at Pantin early in the
morning of the 31st, while he was yet asleep; and recognised, amidst the
crowd in the ante-chamber, a deputation from the municipality of Paris,
who were waiting to present the keys of the city, and invoke the
protection of the conqueror. As soon as Alexander awoke, these
functionaries were admitted to his presence, and experienced a most
courteous reception. The Czar repeated his favourite expression, that he
had but one enemy in France: and promised that the capital, and all
within it, should be treated with perfect consideration. Caulaincourt
then found his way to Alexander--but he was dismissed immediately. The
countenance of the envoy announced, as he came out, that he considered
the fate of his master as decided; nor, if he had preserved any hope,
could it have failed to expire when he learned that Alexander had
already sent to Talleyrand, requesting him on no account to quit the
capital, and proposing to take up his own residence in his hotel.
Nesselrode, the Russian minister, who received the municipal deputation
ere the Czar awoke, entered freely into conversation with the gentleman
at their head, M. Laborde. That person, being questioned as to the state
of public feeling, answered that there were three parties: the army, who
still adhered to Buonaparte; the republicans, who wished for his
deposition, but would not object to the King of Rome being recognised as
Emperor, provided a liberal constitution were established, and the
regency placed in fit hands; and finally, the old nobility and the
saloons of Paris, who were united in desiring the restoration of the
Bourbons. "But at the Prince of Benevento's," said Laborde, "the Emperor
will best acquire a knowledge of all this--it is there that our chief
statesmen assemble habitually." This conversation is supposed to have
fixed Alexander's choice of a residence; and as we have already seen
that Talleyrand was ere now committed in the cause of Louis, the result
of this choice may be anticipated.
The history of what La Vallette had called "the secret intrigues with
the stranger" has not yet been cleared up--nor is it likely to be so for
some time. If there was one of the Allied Princes on whose disposition
to spare himself, or at least his family, Napoleon might have been
supposed to count,--it must have been the Emperor of Austria; and yet,
at daybreak this very morning, a proclamation was tossed in thousands
over the barriers of Paris, in which several phrases occurred, not to be
reconciled with any other notion than that he and all the Allies agreed
in favouring the restoration of the Bourbons, ere any part of their
forces entered the capital. This document spoke of the anxiety of "the
sovereigns" to see the establishment of "a salutary authority in
France": of the opportunity offered to the Parisians of "accelerating
the peace of the world"; of the "conduct of Bordeaux" as affording "an
example of the method in which foreign war and civil discord might find
a common termination"; it concluded thus: "It is in these sentiments
that _Europe in arms_ before your walls addresses herself to you. Hasten
then to respond to the confidence which she reposes in your love for
your country, and in your wisdom;" and was signed "SCHWARTZENBERG,
_Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Armies_."
There was a circumstance of another kind which assisted in stimulating
the hopes and swelling the adherents of the royal cause. The Allies had,
in the early part of the campaign, experienced evil from the
multiplicity of uniforms worn among the troops of so many nations and
tongues, and the likeness which some of the dresses, the German
especially, bore to those of the French. The invading soldiers had
latterly adopted the practice of binding pieces of white linen round
their left arms; and this token, though possibly meant only to enable
the strangers to recognise each other, was not likely to be observed
with indifference by the Parisians, among whom the Bourbonists had
already begun to wear openly the white cockade.
Finally, a vivid sensation was excited in Paris at this critical moment
by the publication of Chateaubriand's celebrated tract, entitled "Of
Buonaparte and of the Bourbons." The first symptom of freedom in the
long enslaved press of Paris was not likely, whatever it might be, to
meet with an unfriendly reception; but this effusion of one of the most
popular writers of the time (though composed in a style not suited to
sober English tastes) was admirably adapted to produce a powerful
effect, at such a moment of doubt and hesitation, on the people to whom
it was addressed.
The agents of Buonaparte had not been idle during the 30th: they had
appealed to the passions of those wretched classes of society who had
been the willing instruments of all the horrible violence of the
revolution, and among whom the name of Bourbon was still detested; nor
without considerable effect. The crowds of filthy outcasts who emerged
from their lanes and cellars, and thronged some of the public places
during the battle, were regarded with equal alarm by all the decent part
of the population, however divided in political sentiments. But the
battle ended ere they could be brought to venture on any combined
movement; and when the defeated soldiery began to file in silence and
dejection through the streets, the mob lost courage, and retreated also
in dismay to the obscure abodes of their misery and vice.
The royalists welcomed with exultation the dawn of the 31st. Together
with the proclamation of Schwartzenberg, they circulated one of
Monsieur, and another of Louis XVIII. himself; and some of the leading
gentlemen of the party, the Montmorencys, the Noailles, the Rohans, the
Rochefoucalds, the Polignacs, the Chateaubriands, were early on
horseback in the streets; which they paraded without interruption from
any, either of the civil authorities, or of the National Guard,
decorated with the symbols of their cause, and appealing with eloquence
to the feelings of the onlookers. As yet, however, they were only
listened to. The mass of the people were altogether uncertain what the
end was to be: and, in the language of the chief orator himself, M.
Sosthenes de Rochefoucald, "the silence was most dismal." At noon the
first of the Allied troops began to pass the barrier and enter the city.
The royalist cavaliers met them; but though many officers observing the
white cockade exclaimed "la belle decoration!" the generals refused to
say anything which might commit their sovereigns. Some ladies of rank,
however, now appeared to take their part in the scene; and when these
fair hands were seen tearing their dresses to make white cockades, the
flame of their enthusiasm began to spread. Various pickets of the
National Guard had plucked the tricolor badge from their caps, and
assumed the white, ere many of the Allies passed the gates.
At noon, as has been mentioned, this triumphal procession began, and it
lasted for several hours. The show was splendid; 50,000 troops, horse,
foot, and artillery, all in the highest order and condition, marched
along the boulevards; and in the midst appeared the youthful Czar and
the King of Prussia, followed by a dazzling suite of princes,
ambassadors, and generals. The crowd was so great that their motion,
always slow, was sometimes suspended. The courteous looks and manners of
all the strangers--but especially the affable and condescending air of
Alexander, were observed at first with surprise; as the cavalcade passed
on, and the crowd thickened, the feelings of the populace rose from
wonder to delight, and ended in contagious and irresistible rapture. No
sovereigns entering their native capitals were ever received with more
enthusiastic plaudits; and still, at every step, the shouts of _Vive
L'Empereur Alexandre!_--_Vive le Roi de Prusse!_ were more and more
loudly mingled with the long-forgotten echoes of _Vive le Roi!_--_Vive
Louis XVIII._--_Vivent les Bourbons!_
The monarchs at last halted, dismissed their soldiers to quarters in the
city, saw Platoff and his Cossacks establish their bivouack in the
_Champs Elysees_, and retired to the residences prepared for them; that
of Alexander being, as we have mentioned above, in the hotel of
Talleyrand.
While the Czar was discussing with this wily veteran, and a few other
French statesmen of the first class, summoned at his request, the state
of public opinion, and the strength of the contending parties--the
population of Paris continued lost in surprise and admiration, at the
sudden march of events, the altogether unexpected amount of the troops
of the Allies--(for they that had figured in the triumphal procession
were, it now appeared, from the occupation of all the environs, but a
fragment of the whole)--and above all, perhaps--such is the theatric
taste of this people--the countless varieties of lineament and costume
observable among the warlike bands lounging and parading about their
streets and gardens. The capital wore the semblance of some enormous
masquerade. Circassian noblemen in complete mail, and wild Bashkirs with
bows and arrows, were there. All ages, as well as countries, seemed to
have sent their representatives to stalk as victors amidst the nation
which but yesterday had claimed glory above the dreams of antiquity,
and the undisputed mastery of the European world.
The council at the hotel of Talleyrand did not protract its sitting.
Alexander and Frederick William, urged by all their assessors to
re-establish the House of Bourbon, still hesitated. "It is but a few
days ago," said the Czar, "since a column of 5 or 6000 new troops
suffered themselves to be cut in pieces before my eyes, when a single
cry of _Vive le Roi_ would have saved them." De Pradt answered, "Such
things will go as long as you continue to treat with Buonaparte--even
although at this moment he has a halter round his neck." The Czar did
not understand this last illusion; it was explained to him that the
Parisians were busy in pulling down Napoleon's statue from the top of
the great pillar in the Place Vendome. Talleyrand now suggested that the
Conservative Senate should be convoked, and required to nominate a
provisional government, the members of which should have power to
arrange a constitution. And to this the sovereigns assented. Alexander
signed forthwith a proclamation asserting the resolution of the Allies
to "treat no more with Napoleon Buonaparte, or any of his family."
Talleyrand had a printer in waiting, and the document was immediately
published, with this significant _affix_, "Michaud, Printer to the
King." If any doubt could have remained after this, it must be supposed
to have ceased at nine the same evening, when the royalist gentry once
more assembled, sent a second deputation to Alexander, and were (the
Czar himself having retired to rest) received, and answered in these
words, by his minister Nesselrode:--"I have just left the Emperor, and
it is in his name that I speak. Return to your assembly, and announce to
all the French, that, touched with the cries he has heard this morning,
and the wishes since so earnestly expressed to him, his Majesty is about
to restore the crown to him to whom alone it belongs. Louis XVIII. will
immediately ascend his throne."
And yet it is by no means clear that even at the time when this
apparently most solemn declaration was uttered, the resolution of the
Allies had been unalterably taken. Nesselrode personally inclined to a
regency, and preserving the crown to the King of Rome; nor is it to be
doubted that that scheme, if at all practicable, would have been
preferred by the Emperor of Austria. But the Frenchmen who had once
committed themselves against Napoleon could not be persuaded but that
his influence would revive, to their own ruin, under any Buonapartean
administration; and the events of the two succeeding days were decisive.
The Municipal Council met, and proclaimed that the throne was empty.
This bold act is supposed to have determined the Conservative Senate. On
the 1st of April that body also assembled, and named a provisional
government, with Talleyrand for its head. The deposition of Napoleon was
forthwith put to the vote, and carried without even one dissentient
voice. On the 2nd the Legislative Senate, angrily dispersed in January,
were in like manner convoked; and they too ratified the decrees proposed
by the Conservative. On the 3rd the senatus-consultum was published, and
myriads of hands were busy in every corner of the city pulling down the
statues and pictures, and effacing the arms and initials of Napoleon.
Meantime the Allied Princes appointed military governors of Paris, were
visible daily at processions and festivals, and received, night after
night, in the theatres, the tumultuous applause of the most inconstant
of peoples.
It was in the night between the 2nd and the 3rd that Caulaincourt
returned from his mission to Fontainebleau, and informed Napoleon of the
events which he had witnessed; he added, that the Allies had not yet, in
his opinion, made up their minds to resist the scheme of a regency, but
that he was commissioned to say nothing could be arranged, as to
ulterior questions, until he, the Emperor, had formally abdicated his
throne. The Marshals assembled at Fontainebleau seem, on hearing this
intelligence, to have resolved unanimously that they would take no
further part in the war; but Napoleon himself was not yet prepared to
give up all without a struggle. The next day, the 4th of April, he
reviewed some of his troops, harangued them on "the treasonable
proceedings in the capital," announced his intention of instantly
marching thither, and was answered by enthusiastic shouts of "Paris!
Paris!" He, on this, conceiving himself to be secure of the attachment
of his soldiery, gave orders for advancing headquarters to Essonne. With
the troops which had filed through Paris, under Marmont's convention,
and those which had followed himself from Troyes, nearly 50,000 men
were once more assembled around Fontainebleau; and with such support
Napoleon was not yet so humbled as to fear hazarding a blow, despite all
the numerical superiority of the Allies.
When, however, he retired to the chateau, after the review, he was
followed by his Marshals, and respectfully, but firmly, informed, that
if he refused to negotiate on the basis of his personal abdication, and
persisted in risking an attack on Paris, they would not accompany him.
He paused for a moment in silence--and a long debate ensued. The
statements and arguments which he heard finally prevailed; and Napoleon
drew up, and signed, in language worthy of the solemn occasion, this
act:--
_The Allied powers having proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is
the sole obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, he,
faithful to his oath, declares that he is ready to descend from the
throne, to quit France, and even to relinquish life, for the good
of his country; which is inseparable from the rights of his Son,
from those of the Regency in the person of the Empress, and from
the maintenance of the laws of the Empire. Done at our Palace of
Fontainebleau, April the 4th, 1814. NAPOLEON._
Buonaparte appointed Caulaincourt to bear this document to Paris on his
behalf; and the Marshals proposed that Ney should accompany him as their
representative. It was suggested that Marmont also should form part of
the deputation; but he was in command of the advanced division at
Essonne, and Macdonald was named in his stead. These officers now
desired to know on what stipulations, as concerned the Emperor
personally, they were to insist. "On none," he answered; "obtain the
best terms you can for France--for myself I ask nothing."
Hitherto nothing could be more composed or dignified than his demeanour.
He now threw himself on a sofa, hid his countenance for some minutes,
and then starting up with that smile which had so often kindled every
heart around him into the flame of onset, exclaimed--"Let us march, my
comrades; let us take the field once more."
The answer was silence and some tears; and he, also in silence,
dismissed the messengers and the assemblage.
Caulaincourt, Ney and Macdonald immediately commenced their journey; and
on reaching Essonne received intelligence which quickened their speed.
Victor, and many other officers of the first rank, not admitted to the
council at Fontainebleau, and considering the events of the two
preceding days in the capital as decisive, had already sent in their
adhesion to the provisional government; and Marmont, the commander of
Napoleon's division in advance, had not only taken the same step for
himself personally, but entered into a separate convention the night
before, under which it had been settled that he should forthwith march
his troops within the lines of the allied armies. The Marshals of the
mission entreated Marmont to suspend his purpose, and repair with
themselves to Paris. He complied; and on arriving in the capital they
found themselves surrounded on all sides with the shouts of _Vive le
Roi_! Such sounds accompanied them to the hotel Talleyrand, where they
were forthwith admitted to the presence of the Czar. The act of
abdication was produced; and Alexander expressed his surprise that it
should have contained no stipulations for Napoleon personally; "but I
have been his friend," said he, "and I will willingly be his advocate. I
propose that he should retain his imperial title, with the sovereignty
of Elba or some other island."
When Buonaparte's envoys retired from the Autocrat's presence, it still
remained doubtful whether the abdication would be accepted in its
present form, or the Allies would insist on an unconditional surrender.
There came tidings almost on the instant which determined the question.
Napoleon had, shortly after the mission left him, sent orders to General
Souham, who commanded at Essonne in the absence of Marmont, to repair to
his presence at Fontainebleau. Souham, who, like all the upper officers
of Marmont's corps (with but two exceptions), approved of the convention
of the 3rd, was alarmed on receiving this message. His brethren, being
summoned to council, participated in his fears; and the resolution was
taken to put the convention at once in execution. The troops were wholly
ignorant of what was intended, when they commenced their march at five
in the morning of the 5th; and for the first time suspected the secret
views of their chiefs, when they found themselves in the midst of the
allied lines, and watched on all sides by overwhelming numbers, in the
neighbourhood of Versailles. A violent commotion ensued; some blood was
shed; but the necessity of submission was so obvious, that ere long
they resumed the appearance of order, and were cantoned in quiet in the
midst of the strangers.
This piece of intelligence was followed by more of the like complexion.
Officers of all ranks began to abandon the camp at Fontainebleau, find
present themselves to swear allegiance to the new government. Talleyrand
said wittily when some one called Marmont a traitor, "his watch only
went a little faster than the others."
At length the allied princes signified their resolution to accept of
nothing but an unconditional abdication; making the marshals, however,
the bearers of their unanimous accession to the proposals of Alexander
in favour of Napoleon and his House; which, as finally shaped, were
these:--
1st, The imperial title to be preserved by Napoleon, with the free
sovereignty of Elba, guards, and a navy suitable to the extent of that
island, a pension from France of six millions of francs annually: 2nd,
The Duchies of Parma, Placentia and Guastalla to be granted in
sovereignty to Maria Louisa and her heirs: and 3rd, Two millions and a
half of francs annually to be paid, by the French government, in
pensions to Josephine and the other members of the Buonaparte family.
Napoleon, on hearing the consequences of Marmont's defection, exclaimed,
"Ungrateful man! but I pity him more than myself." Every hour
thenceforth he was destined to meet similar mortifications. Berthier,
his chosen and trusted friend, asked leave to go on private business to
Paris, adding that he would return in a few hours. The Emperor
consented; and, as he left the apartment, whispered with a smile, "He
will return no more." What Napoleon felt even more painfully, was the
unceremonious departure of his favourite Mameluke, Rustan.
Ere the Marshals returned from Paris he reviewed his guard again; and it
was obvious to those about him that he still hankered after the chances
of another field. We may imagine that his thoughts were like those of
the Scottish usurper:--
"I have lived long enough: my May of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf....
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
... The Thanes fly from me."
He sometimes meditated a march southwards, collecting on his way the
armies of Augereau and Soult, and re-opening the campaign as
circumstances might recommend, behind either the Loire or the Alps. At
other times the chance of yet rousing the population of Paris recurred
to his imagination. Amidst these dreams, of which every minute more
clearly showed the vanity, Napoleon received the ultimatum of the
invading powers. He hesitated and pondered long ere he would sign his
acceptance of it. The group of his personal followers had been sorely
thinned; and the armies of the Allies, gradually pushing forward from
Paris, had nearly surrounded Fontainebleau, when he at length (on the
11th of April) abandoned all hope, and executed an instrument, formally
"renouncing for himself and his heirs the thrones of France and of
Italy."
Even after signing this document, and delivering it to Caulaincourt, he
made a last effort to rouse the spirits of the chief officers still
around his person. They, as the Marshals had done on the 4th, heard his
appeals in silence; and the Duke of Vicenza, though repeatedly commanded
to give him back the act of abdication, refused to do so. It is
generally believed that, during the night which ensued, Napoleon's
meditations were, once more, like those of the falling Macbeth:--
"There is no flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I 'gin to be weary o' the sun."--
Whether the story, very circumstantially told, of his having swallowed
poison on that night, be true, we have no means of deciding. It is
certain that he underwent a violent paroxysm of illness, sank into a
death-like stupor, and awoke in extreme feebleness, lassitude, and
dejection; in which condition several days were passed.
Napoleon remained long enough at Fontainebleau to hear of the
restoration of the Bourbon Monarchy, and the triumphant entrance of the
Count d'Artois (now Charles X.) into Paris, as Lieutenant for his
brother, Louis XVIII.; and of another event, which ought to have given
him greater affliction. Immediately on the formation of the provisional
government, messengers had been sent from Paris to arrest the progress
of hostilities between Soult and Wellington. But, wherever the blame of
intercepting and holding back these tidings may have lain, the English
General received no intelligence of the kind until, pursuing his career
of success, he had fought another great and bloody battle, and achieved
another glorious victory, beneath the walls of Toulouse. This
unfortunate, because utterly needless, battle, occurred on the 11th of
April. On the 14th the news of the fall of Paris reached Lord
Wellington; and, Soult soon afterwards signifying his adhesion to the
new government, his conqueror proceeded to take part in the final
negotiations of the Allies at Paris.
It was on the 20th of April that Napoleon once more called his officers
about him, and signified that they were summoned to receive his last
adieus. Several of the marshals and others who had some time before
sworn fealty to the king, were present. "Louis," said he, "has talents
and means: he is old and infirm; and will not, I think, choose to give a
bad name to his reign. If he is wise, he will occupy my bed, and only
change the sheets. But he must treat the army well, and take care not to
look back on the past, or his time will be brief. For you, gentlemen, I
am no longer to be with you;--you have another government; and it will
become you to attach yourselves to it frankly, and serve it as
faithfully as you have served me."
He now desired that the relics of his imperial guard might be drawn up
in the courtyard of the castle. He advanced to them on horseback; and
tears dropped from his eyes as he dismounted in the midst. "All Europe,"
said Napoleon, "has armed against me. France herself has deserted me,
and chosen another dynasty. I might, with my soldiers, have maintained a
civil war for years--but it would have rendered France unhappy. Be
faithful to the new sovereign whom your country has chosen. Do not
lament my fate: I shall always be happy while I know that you are so. I
could have died--nothing was easier--but I will always follow the path
of honour. I will record with my pen the deeds we have done together. I
cannot embrace you all" (he continued, taking the commanding officer in
his arms)--"but I embrace your general. Bring hither the eagle. Beloved
eagle! may the kisses I bestow on you long resound in the hearts of the
brave; farewell, my children--farewell, my brave companions--surround me
once more--farewell!"
Amidst the silent but profound grief of these brave men, submitting like
himself to the irresistible force of events, Napoleon placed himself in
his carriage, and drove rapidly from Fontainebleau.
Of all that lamented the fall of this extraordinary man, no one shed
bitterer tears than the neglected wife of his youth. Josephine had fled
from Paris on the approach of the Allies; but being assured of the
friendly protection of Alexander, returned to Malmaison ere Napoleon
quitted Fontainebleau. The Czar visited her frequently, and endeavoured
to soothe her affliction. But the ruin of "her Achilles," "her Cid" (as
she now once more, in the day of misery, called Buonaparte), had entered
deep into her heart. She sickened and died before the Allies left
France.
Maria Louisa, meanwhile, and her son, were taken under the personal
protection of the Emperor of Austria, and had begun their journey to
Vienna some time before the fallen "Child of Destiny" reached Elba.
[Footnote 66: An English _detenu_, who was then in Paris, says: "During
the battle, the Boulevard des Italiens and the Caffe Tortoni were
thronged with fashionable loungers of both sexes, sitting as usual on
the chairs placed there, and appearing almost uninterested spectators of
the number of wounded French brought in. The officers were carried on
mattresses. About two o'clock a general cry of _sauve qui peut_ was
heard on the boulevards, from the Porte St. Martin to Les Italiens; this
caused a general and confused flight, which spread like the undulations
of a wave, even beyond the Pont Neuf.... During the whole of the battle
wounded soldiers crawled into the streets, and lay down to die on the
pavement.... The _Moniteur_ of this day was a full sheet; but no notice
was taken of the war, or the army. Four columns were occupied by an
article on the dramatic works of Denis, and three with a dissertation on
the existence of Troy."--_Memorable Events in Paris in_ 1814, p. 93.]