_The Allied Sovereigns issue a Proclamation that they will not treat
with Buonaparte--A Provisional Government is named by the
Conservative Senate, who also decree the forfeiture of
Napoleon--This decree is sanctioned by all the Public Bodies in
Paris--The legality of these proceedings discussed--Feelings towards
Napoleon, of the Lower Classes, and of the Military--On 4th April,
Buonaparte issues a document abdicating the Throne of France--His
subsequent agitation, and wish to continue the war--The deed is
finally despatched._
While Napoleon breathed nothing save the desire of recovering by war
what war had taken from him, or at least that of making such a peace as
should leave him at the head of the French government, political events
were taking place in Paris which pointed directly at the overthrow of
his power.
His great military talents, together with his extreme inflexibility of
temper, had firmly impressed the allied monarchs with the belief, that
no lasting peace could be made in Europe while he remained at the head
of the French nation. Every concession which he had seemed willing to
make at different times, had been wrung from him by increasing
difficulties, and was yielded with such extreme reluctance, as to infer
the strongest suspicion that they would all be again resumed, should
the league of the allies be dissolved, or their means of opposing his
purposes become weaker. When, therefore, Caulaincourt came to Paris on
the part of his master, with power to subscribe to all and each of the
demands made by the allies, he was not indeed explicitly refused
audience; but, before he was admitted to a conference with the Emperor
Alexander, to whom his mission was addressed, the sovereigns had come
under engagements which precluded them altogether from treating with
Napoleon.[32]
When the Emperor of Russia halted, after the progress of the allied
sovereigns through the city, it was at the hotel of Talleyrand. He was
scarcely arrived there ere the principal Royalists, and those who had
acted with them, waited on him to crave an audience. Besides the Emperor
Alexander, the King of Prussia, and Prince Schwartzenberg, were present
General Pozzo di Borgo, Nesselrode, Lichtenstein, the Duke Dalberg,
Baron Louis, the Abbé de Pradt, and others. Three points were discussed,
1st, The possibility of a peace with Napoleon, upon sufficient
guarantees; 2d, The plan of a regency; 3d, The restoration of the
Bourbons.
[Sidenote: PROCLAMATION OF THE ALLIES.]
The first proposition seemed inadmissible. The second was carefully
considered. It was particularly urged that the French were indifferent
to the cause of the Bourbons--that the allied monarchs would observe no
mark of recollection of them exhibited by the people of France--and that
the army seemed particularly averse to them. The united testimony of the
French gentlemen present was offered to repel these doubts; and it was
at length agreed, that the third proposition--the restoration of the
ancient family, and the ancient limits--should be the terms adopted for
the settlement of France.[33] A proclamation was immediately dispersed,
by which the sovereigns made known their determination not to treat with
Buonaparte or any of his family.[34]
But more formal evidence, in the shape of legal procedure, was necessary
to establish the desire of the French people to coincide in the proposed
change of government. The public body which ought naturally to have
taken the lead on such an important affair, was the Legislative
Assembly, in whom Napoleon's constitution vested some ostensible right
of interference when the state was in danger; but so far had the Emperor
been from recognising such a power in practice, that the instant when
the Assembly assumed the right of remonstrating with him, though in the
most respectful terms, he suspended their functions, and spurned them
from the footstool of his throne, informing them, that not they, but HE,
was the representative of the people, from whom there lay no appeal, and
besides whom, no body in the state possessed power and efficacy. This
legislative council, therefore, being dispersed and prorogued, could not
take the initiative upon the present occasion.
The searching genius of Talleyrand sought an organ of public opinion
where few would have looked for it--in the Conservative Senate, namely,
whose members had been so long the tools of Buonaparte's wildest
projects, and the echoes of his most despotic decrees--that very body,
of which he himself said, with equal bitterness and truth, that they
were more eager to yield up national rights than he had been to demand
the surrender, and that a sign from him had always been an order for the
Senate, who hastened uniformly to anticipate and exceed his demands. Yet
when, on the summons of Talleyrand, who knew well with whom he was
dealing, this Senate was convoked, in a meeting attended by sixty-six of
their number, forming a majority of the body, they at once, and without
hesitation, named a Provisional Government, consisting of Talleyrand,
Bournonville, Jaucourt, Dalberg, and the Abbé de Montesquieu; men
recommended by talents and moderation, and whose names, known in the
Revolution, might, at the same time, be a guarantee to those who dreaded
a renovation of the old despotic government with the restoration of the
ancient race of kings.
[Sidenote: DECREE OF FORFEITURE.]
On the 2d and 3d of April the axe was laid to the roots. A decree of the
Senate sent forth the following statement:--1st, That Napoleon, after
governing for some time with prudence and wisdom, had violated the
constitution, by raising taxes in an arbitrary and lawless manner,
contrary to the tenor of his oath.--2d, That he had adjourned without
necessity the Legislative Body, and suppressed a report of that
assembly, besides disowning its right to represent the people.--3d, That
he had published several unconstitutional decrees, particularly those of
5th March last, by which he endeavoured to render national a war, in
which his own ambition alone was interested.--4th, That he had violated
the constitution by his decrees respecting state prisons.--5th, That he
had abolished the responsibility of ministers, confounded together the
different powers of the state, and destroyed the independence of
judicial authorities.--6th, That the liberty of the press, constituting
one of the rights of the nation, had been uniformly subjected to the
arbitrary censure of his police; while, at the same time, he himself had
made use of the same engine to fill the public ear with invented
fictions, false maxims, doctrines favourable to despotism, and insults
upon foreign governments.--7th, That he had caused acts and reports,
adopted by the Senate, to be altered by his own authority, before
publication.--8th, That instead of reigning, according to his oath, for
the honour, happiness, and glory of the French nation, he had put the
finishing stroke to the distresses of the country, by a refusal to treat
on honourable conditions--by the abuse which he had made of the means
intrusted to him, in men and money--by abandoning the wounded, without
dressing or sustenance--and by pursuing measures of which the
consequences have been the ruin of towns, the depopulation of the
country, famine and pestilence. From all these inductive causes, the
Senate, considering that the Imperial government, established by the
decree of 28th Floreal, in the year XII., had ceased to exist, and that
the manifest desire of all Frenchmen was to obtain an order of things,
of which the first result should be peace and concord among the great
members of the European family: Therefore, the Senate declared and
decreed, 1st, That Napoleon Buonaparte had forfeited the throne, and the
right of inheritance established in his family.--2d, That the people and
army of France were disengaged and freed from the oath of fidelity,
which they had taken to Napoleon and his constitution.[35]
[Sidenote: DECLARATIONS OF PUBLIC BODIES.]
About eighty members of the Legislative Body, at the summons of the
Provisional Government, assembled on the 3d April, and formally adhered
to the above decree of forfeiture. The consequences of these bold
measures showed, either that Napoleon had in reality never had more than
a slight hold on the affections of the people of France, or that the
interest they took in his fortunes had been in a great degree destroyed
by the fears and passions excited by the immediate crisis. Even before
the Senate could reduce its decree into form, the council-general of the
department of the Seine had renounced Napoleon's authority, and imputed
to him alone the present disastrous state of the country. The decree of
the Senate was followed by declarations from all the public bodies in
and around Paris, that they adhered to the Provisional Government, and
acquiesced in the decree of forfeiture. Numerous individuals, who had
been favoured and enriched by Buonaparte, were among the first to join
the tide when it set against him. But it had been always his policy to
acquire adherents, by addressing himself rather to men's interests than
to their principles; and many of his friends so gained, naturally became
examples of the politic observation, "that if a prince places men in
wealthy circumstances, the first thing they think of, in danger, is how
to preserve the advantages they have obtained, without regard to his
fate to whom they owe them."
We do not believe that it occurred to any person while these events were
passing, to question either the formality or the justice of the doom of
forfeiture against Napoleon; but Time has called out many authors, who,
gained by the brilliancy of Napoleon's reputation, and some of them
bound to him by ties of gratitude or friendship, have impugned, more or
less directly, the formality of the Senate's procedure, as well as the
justice of their sentence. We, therefore, feel it our duty to bestow
some consideration upon this remarkable event in both points of view.
The objection proposed against the legality of the Senate's acting as
the organ of the people, in pronouncing the doom of forfeiture, rests
upon the idea, that the right of dethroning the sovereign, who shall be
guilty of oppression beyond endurance, can only be exercised in a
peculiar and formal manner, or, as our law-phrase goes, "according to
the statute made and provided in that case." This seems to take a narrow
view of the subject. The right of redressing themselves under such
circumstances, does not belong to, and is not limited by, any peculiar
forms of civil government. It is a right which belongs to human nature
under all systems whatever. It exists in every government under the sun,
from that of the Dey of Algiers to the most free republic that ever was
constructed. There is, indeed, much greater latitude for the exercise of
arbitrary authority in some governments than in others. An Emperor of
Morocco may, with impunity, bathe his hands to the elbows in the blood
of his subjects shed by his own hand; but even in this the most absolute
of despotisms, there are peculiar limits which cannot be passed by the
sovereign without the exercise of the natural right of resistance on the
part of his subjects, although their system of government be as
arbitrary as words can declare it to be, and the Emperor is frequently
dethroned and slain by his own guards.
In limited governments, on the other hand, like that of Great Britain,
the law imposes bounds, beyond which the royal authority shall not pass;
but it makes no provision for what shall take place, should a monarch,
as in the case of James II., transgress the social compact. The
constitution averts its eyes from contemplating such an event--indeed it
is pronounced impossible; and when the emergency did arrive, and its
extrication became a matter of indispensable necessity, it was met and
dealt with as a concurrence of circumstances which had not happened
before, and ought never to be regarded as being possible to occur again.
The foreigner who peruses our constitution for the forms of procedure
competent in such an event as the Revolution, might as well look in a
turnpike act for directions how to proceed in a case resembling that of
Phaeton.
If the mode of shaking off an oppressive yoke, by declaring the monarchy
abdicated or forfeited, be not a fixed form in a regular government, but
left to be provided for by a convention or otherwise, as a case so
calamitous and so anomalous should demand, far less was it to be
supposed that a constitution like that of France, which Buonaparte had
studiously deprived of every power and means of checking the executive,
should contain a regular form of process for declaring the crown
forfeited. He had been as careful as despot could, to leave no bar in
existence before which the public might arraign him; but will it be
contended, that the public had therefore forfeited its natural right of
accusing and of obtaining redress? If he had rendered the Senate the
tame drudges which we have described, and prorogued the Legislative Body
by an arbitrary _coup d'état_, was he therefore to escape the penalty of
his misgovernment? On the contrary, the nation of France, like Great
Britain at the time of the Revolution 1688, was to proceed as it best
could in taking care, _Ne quid detrimenti respublica capiat_. The Senate
was not, perhaps, the best organ for expressing public opinion, but it
was the only one Napoleon had left within reach, and therefore it was
seized upon and made use of. That it was composed of men who had so long
gone on with Napoleon's interest, and now were able to keep up in course
with him no longer, made his misrule even yet more glaring, and the
necessity of the case more evident.
It is of far more importance to be enabled to form an accurate judgment
respecting the _justice_ of the sentence of forfeiture pronounced
against this eminent man, than upon its mere formality. That we may
examine this question with the impartiality it deserves, we must look
upon it not only divested of our feelings as Britons, but as unconnected
with the partisans either of the Bourbons or of Buonaparte. With these
last there could be no room either for inquiry or conviction. The
Royalist must have been convinced that Napoleon deserved, not
deprivation only, but death also, for usurping the throne of his
rightful sovereign; and the Buonapartist, on the other hand, would hold
it cowardly treason to desert the valiant Emperor, who had raised France
to such a state of splendour by his victories, more especially to
forsake him in the instant when Fortune was looking black upon his
cause. There could be no argument between these men, save with their
good swords in a fair field.
But such decided sentiments were not entertained upon the part of the
great bulk of the French nation. A large number of the middle classes,
in particular, remembering the first terrors of the Revolution, had
showed their willingness to submit to the yoke which gradually assumed a
despotic character, rather than, by a renewed struggle for their
liberties, to run the risk of reviving the days of Terror and
Proscription. It is in the person of such an individual, desirous of the
honour and advantage of his country, and anxious at the same time for
the protection of his own family and property, that we now endeavour to
consider the question of Napoleon's forfeiture.
The mind of such a person would naturally revert to the period when
Buonaparte, just returned from Egypt, appeared on the stage like a deity
descending to unloose a perplexing knot, which no human ingenuity could
extricate. Our citizen would probably admit, that Napoleon used the
sword a little too freely in severing the intricacies of the noose; or,
in plain words, that the cashiering the Council of Five Hundred, at the
head of his grenadiers, was an awkward mode of ascending to power in a
country which still called itself free. This feeling, however, would be
greatly overbalanced by recollecting the use which was made of the power
thus acquired; the subjugation, to wit, of foreign enemies, the
extinction of civil dissensions, the protection of property, and, for a
time, of personal liberty also. Napoleon's having elevated France from
the condition of a divided and depressed country, in the immediate
apprehension of invasion, into that of arbitress of Europe, would at
once justify committing the chief authority to such able hands, and
excuse the means he had used for attaining it; especially in times when
the violent and successive changes under which they had long suffered,
had made the nation insensible to irregularities like those attached to
the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. Neither would our citizens probably
be much shocked at Napoleon's assuming the crown. Monarchy was the
ancient government of France, and successive changes had served to show
that they could not fix on any other form of constitution, labour how
they would, which was endowed with the same degree of permanence. The
Bourbons had, indeed, the claim by birth to mount that throne, were it
to be again erected. But they were in exile, separated by civil war,
party prejudices, the risk of reaction, and a thousand other
difficulties, which seemed at the time absolutely insurmountable.
Buonaparte was standing under the canopy, he grasped the regal sceptre
in his hand, his assuming the royal seat passed almost as a matter of
course.
Our supposed Parisian has next to review a course of years of such
brilliancy as to baffle criticism, and charm reason to silence, till the
undertakings of the Emperor seem to rise above each other in wonder,
each being a step towards the completion of that stupendous pyramid, of
which the gradations were to be formed by conquered provinces, until the
refractory and contumacious isle of Britain should be added to complete
the pile, on the top of which was destined to stand the armed form of
Napoleon, trampling the world under his foot. This is the noble work
which France and her monarch were in the act of achieving. It requires
the sacrifice of children or relatives to fill their ranks; they go
where Honour calls, and Victory awaits them. These times, however, are
overclouded; there come tidings that the stone heaved by such portentous
exertion so high up the hill, has at length recoiled on him who laboured
to give it a course contrary to nature. It is then that the real quality
of the fetters, hitherto gilded over by success, begins to be felt, and
the iron enters into the soul. The parent must not weep aloud for the
child--the Emperor required his service;--the patriot must not speak a
word on public affairs--the dungeon waits for him.
While news of fresh disasters from Spain and Moscow were every day
arriving, what comfort could a citizen of France find in adverting to
past victories? These had brought on France the hatred of Europe, the
tears of families, the ruin of fortunes, general invasion, and wellnigh
national bankruptcy. Every year had the children of France undergone
decimation--taxes to the amount of fifteen hundred millions of francs
yearly, had succeeded to the four hundred millions imposed under the
reign of the Bourbons--the few remaining ships of France rotted in her
harbours--her bravest children were slaughtered on their native soil--a
civil war was on the point of breaking out--one half of France was
overrun by the foreign enemy. Was this most melancholy state of the
country brought about in defending strongly, but unfortunately, any of
the rights of France? No--she might have enjoyed her triumphs in the
most profound peace. Two wars with Spain and Russia, which gave fire to
this dreadful train of calamities, were waged for no national or
reasonable object, but merely because one half of Europe could not
satisfy the ambition of one man. Again, our citizen inquires, whether,
having committed the dreadful error of commencing these wars, the
Emperor has endeavoured to make peace with the parties injured? He is
answered, that repeated terms of peace have been offered to Napoleon,
upon condition of ceding his conquests, but that he had preferred
hazarding the kingdom of France, to yielding up that which he termed his
_glory_, a term which he successively conferred on whatever possession
he was required to surrender; that even at Chatillon, many days passed
when he might have redeemed himself by consenting that France should be
reduced within the limits which she enjoyed under the Bourbons; but that
the proposal when half admitted, had been retracted by him in
consequence of some transient success; and finally, that in consequence
of his intractability and obstinacy, the allied sovereigns had solemnly
declared they would not enter into treaty with him, or those who acted
with him. Our citizen would naturally look about for some means of
escaping the impending danger, and would be informed that the peace
which the allied princes refused to Buonaparte, they held out with ready
hand to the kingdom of France under any other government. He would learn
that if these terms were accepted, there was every prospect that a
secure and lasting peace would ensue; if refused, the inevitable
consequence would be a battle between two large armies fought under the
walls of Paris, which city was almost certain to be burnt, whichever
party got the advantage.
In consequence of this information, the citizen of Paris would probably
be able to decide for himself. But if he inquired at a jurist, he would
be informed that Napoleon held the crown not by right of blood, but by
the choice, or rather permission of the people, as an administrator
bound to manage for their best advantage.
Now, every legal obligation may be unloosed in the same way in which it
is formed. If, therefore, Napoleon's government was no longer for the
advantage of France, but, on the contrary, tended plainly to her ruin,
she had a right to rid herself of him, as of a servant unfit for duty,
or as if mariners had taken aboard their vessel a comrade intended to
act as pilot, but who had proved a second Jonas, whom it was necessary
to sacrifice to appease a storm which had come upon them through his
misconduct. Upon such reasoning, certainly neither unwise nor
unpatriotic, the burghers of Paris, as well as all those who had any
thing to lose in the struggle, may be supposed to have acted.
The lower, or rather the lowest class of inhabitants, were not
accessible to the same arguments. They had been bequeathed to Buonaparte
as an heir-loom of the Republic, of which he has been truly called the
heir. His police had industriously maintained connexions amongst them,
and retained in pay and in dependence on the government, their principal
leaders. Names had changed around men of that ignorant condition,
without their feeling their situation much altered. The Glory of France
was to them as inspiring a watchword as the Rights of Man had been; and
their quantum of sous per day, when employed, as they frequently were,
upon the public works, was no bad exchange for Liberty and Equality,
after they had arrived at the discovery of the poor cobbler, who
exclaimed--"Fine Liberty, indeed, that leaves me cobbling shoes as she
found me!" Bulletins and Moniteurs, which trumpeted the victories of
Napoleon, were as animating and entertaining to the inhabitants of the
suburbs as the speeches of republican orators; for in such triumphs of a
nation, the poor have a share as ample as their wealthier neighbours.
The evils of the war were also less felt by the poor. Their very poverty
placed them beneath taxation, and the children, of whom they were
bereaved by the conscription, they must otherwise have parted with, in
all probability, that they might seek subsistence elsewhere. In the
present circumstances the hatred to foreigners, proper to persons of
their class, came to aid their admiration of Buonaparte. In a battle,
they had something to gain and nothing to lose, saving their lives, of
which their national gallantry induced them to take small heed. Had
Napoleon been in Paris, he might have made much use of this force. But
in his absence, the weight of property, prudently directed, naturally
bore down the ebullitions of those who had only brute strength to throw
into the balance, and the overwhelming force of the allied army kept the
suburbs in subjection.
[Sidenote: THE MILITARY--FONTAINBLEAU.]
The disposition of the military was a question of deep importance.
Accustomed to follow Napoleon through every climate, and every
description of danger, unquestionably their attachment to his person was
of the most devoted and enthusiastic kind. But this can only be said in
general of the regimental officers, and the soldiers. The maréchals, and
many of the generals, were tired of this losing war. These, with many
also of the inferior officers, and even of the soldiers, began to
consider the interest of their general, and that of France, as having
become separated from each other. It was from Paris that the changes had
emanated by which the army was governed during every revolutionary
crisis; and they were now required to engage in an undertaking which was
likely to be fatal to that metropolis. To advance upon the allies, and
fight a battle under the capital, was to expose to destruction the city,
whose name to every Frenchman has a sacred and inviolable sound. The
maréchals, in particular, were disgusted with a contest, in which each
of them had been left successively without adequate means of resistance,
to stem, or attempt to stem, a superior force of the enemy; with the
certainty, at the same time, to be held up to public censure in the next
bulletin, in case of failure, though placed in circumstances which
rendered success impossible. These generals were more capable than the
army at large of comprehending the nature of the war in which they were
likely to be engaged, and of appreciating the difficulties of a contest
which was to be maintained in future without money, ammunition, or
supplies, excepting such as should be extorted from that part of the
country over which they held military possession; and this, not only
against all the allies now in France, and the insurgent corps of
Royalists in the west, but also against a second, or reserved line of
three or four hundred thousand Russians, Austrians, and other allied
troops which had not yet crossed the frontier.
Besides, the soldiers with which an attack upon the allied army must
have been undertaken, were reduced to a disastrous condition, by their
late forced marches, and the want of succours and supplies of every
description; the cavalry were in a great measure dismounted; the
regiments not half complete; the horses unshod; the physical condition
of the army bad, and its moral feelings depressed, and unfit for
enterprise. The period seemed to have arrived, beyond which Napoleon
could not maintain his struggle, without destruction to himself, to
Paris, and to France. These sentiments were commonly entertained among
the French general officers. They felt their attachment to Napoleon
placed in opposition to the duty they owed their country by the late
decree of the Senate, and they considered the cause of France as the
most sacred. They had received intelligence from Bournonville of what
had passed at Paris, and considering the large proportion of the capital
which had declared against Buonaparte, and that an assault on Paris must
have occasioned much effusion of French blood, and have become the
signal of civil war, the maréchals and principal general officers agreed
they could not follow Napoleon in such an attack on the city, or against
the allies' line of defence around it, both because, in a military point
of view, they thought the attempt desperate, considering the state of
the army, and because, in a political position, they regarded it as
contrary to their duty as citizens.[36]
In the night betwixt the 2d and 3d of April, Caulaincourt returned from
his mission to Paris. He reported, that the allies persisted in their
determination to entertain no treaty with Buonaparte; but he was of
opinion, that the scheme of a regency by the Empress, as the guardian of
their son, might even yet be granted. Austria, he stated, was favourable
to such an arrangement, and Russia seemed not irreconcilably averse to
it. But the abdication of Buonaparte was a preliminary condition. As
this news circulated among the maréchals, it fixed them in their
resolution not to march against Paris, as, in their opinion, the war
ought to be ended by this personal sacrifice on the part of Napoleon.
[Sidenote: FONTAINBLEAU.]
Buonaparte had not, probably, expected this separation between the
duties of a soldier and of a citizen. On the 4th April, he reviewed a
part of his troops, addressed them on the display of the white colours
in France by some factious persons, reminded them that the
three-coloured cockade was that of victory and honour, and that he
intended to march on the capital, to punish the traitors by whom it had
been vilified.[37] He was answered by shouts of "Paris, Paris!" and had
no reason to fear that the troops would hesitate to follow him in his
effort. The orders were given to advance the imperial quarters from
Fontainbleau to Essonne.
But after the review was over, Berthier, Ney, Macdonald, Caulaincourt,
Oudinot, Bertrand, and other officers of the highest rank, followed the
Emperor into his apartment, and explained to him the sentiments which
they entertained on the subject of the proposed movement, their opinion
that he ought to negotiate on the principle of personal abdication, and
the positive determination which most of them had formed, on no account
to follow him in an attack upon Paris.[38]
There is no doubt that, by an appeal to officers of an inferior rank and
consideration, young Seids, who knew no other virtue than a determined
attachment to their chief, through good or evil, Napoleon might have
filled up, in a military point of view, the vacancy which the
resignation of the maréchals must have created in his list of generals.
But those who urged to him this unpleasant proposal, were the fathers of
the war, the well-known brave and beloved leaders of large armies. Their
names might be individually inferior to his own; but with what feelings
would the public hear that he was deprived of those men, who had been so
long the pride and dread of war? and what were likely to be the
sentiments of the soldiery, upon whom the names of Ney, Macdonald,
Oudinot, and others, operated like a war-trumpet.
With considerable reluctance, and after long debate, Napoleon assumed
the pen, and acquiescing in the reasoning pressed upon him, wrote the
following words, which we translate as literally as possible, as showing
Napoleon's power of dignity of expression, when deep feeling
predominated over his affectation of antithesis and Orientalism of
composition:
"The allied powers having proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is the
sole obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor
Napoleon, 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 the 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
Fontainbleau, 4th April, 1814."
Caulaincourt and Ney were appointed to be bearers of this important
document, and commissioners to negotiate with the allies, concerning the
terms of accommodation to which it might be supposed to lead.
Caulaincourt was the personal representative of Napoleon; and Ney, who
had all along been zealous for the abdication, was a plenipotentiary
proposed by the rest of the maréchals. Napoleon, it is said, wished to
add Marmont; but he was absent with the troops quartered at Essonne,
who, having been withdrawn in consequence of the treaty of Paris, were
disposed of in that position. Macdonald was suggested as the third
plenipotentiary, as an officer whose high character best qualified him
to represent the army. Napoleon hesitated; for though he had employed
Macdonald's talents on the most important occasions, he knew that the
maréchal disliked, upon principle, the arbitrary character of his
government; and they had never stood to each other in any intimate or
confidential relation. He consulted his minister, Maret. "Send the Duke
of Tarentum," replied the minister. "He is too much a man of honour not
to discharge, with religious fidelity, any trust which he undertakes."
Marshal Macdonald's name was added to the commission accordingly.[39]
When the terms were in the act of being adjusted, the maréchals desired
to know upon what stipulations they were to insist on Napoleon's
personal behalf. "Upon none,"--said Buonaparte. "Do what you can to
obtain the best terms for France: for myself, I ask nothing." They were
instructed particularly to obtain an armistice until the treaty should
be adjusted. Through the whole scene Buonaparte conducted himself with
firmness, but he gave way to a natural emotion when he had finally
signed the abdication. He threw himself on a sofa, hid his face for a
few minutes, and then looking up, with that smile of persuasion which he
had so often found irresistible, he implored his brethren of the field
to annul the resolutions they had adopted, to destroy the papers, and
follow him yet again to the contest. "Let us march," he said; "let us
take the field once more! We are sure to beat them, and to have peace on
our own terms."[40] The moment would have been invaluable to a
historical painter. The maréchals were deeply affected, but could not
give way. They renewed their arguments on the wretched state of the
army--on the reluctance with which the soldiers would move against the
Senate--on the certainty of a destructive civil war--and on the
probability that Paris would be destroyed. He acquiesced once more in
their reasoning, and permitted them to depart on their embassy.[41]
FOOTNOTES:
[32] According to Lord Burghersh, (Operations, p. 249,) Caulaincourt saw
the Emperor Alexander at his headquarters, _before_ he entered
Paris.--ED. (1842.)
[33] De Pradt, Précis Hist. de la Restauration, p. 54.
[34] Dated Paris, March 31, three o'clock in the afternoon. "After some
discussion, the Emperor of Russia agreed not to treat with Napoleon,
and, at the suggestion of Abbé Louis, nor with any of his family. De
Pradt told me he retired into a corner of the apartment, with Roux
Laborie, to whom he dictated the Emperor's declaration, which was
hastily written with a pencil, and shown to Alexander, who approved of
it. Michaud, who was in waiting, caused it immediately to be printed,
putting, under the name of the Emperor, '_Michaud, Imprimeur du Roi_,'
and two hours afterwards it was stuck up in Paris. It was read by the
people with great eagerness, and I saw many of them copying
it."--_Memorable Events_, p. 128.
[35] On the 3d of April, the _Moniteur_, in which these documents are
given, was declared, by the provisional government, the only official
journal.
[36] "Napoleon reached Fontainbleau at six in the morning of the 31st
March. The large rooms of the castle were shut up, and he repaired to
his little apartment on the first storey, parallel with the gallery of
Francis I. There he shut himself up for the remainder of the day. Maret
was the only one of his ministers who was with him. In the course of
that evening, and the following morning, arrived the heads of the
columns which Napoleon had brought from Champagne, and the advanced
guard of the troops from Paris. These wrecks of the army assembled round
Fontainbleau. Moncey, who commanded the national guard of Paris,
Lafebvre, Ney, Macdonald, Oudinot, Berthier, Mortier, and Marmont,
arrived at Napoleon's headquarters; so that he still had an army at his
disposal."--BARON FAIN, p. 355.
"Marmont arrived at Fontainbleau, at three in the morning of the 1st of
April, and gave Napoleon a detailed account of what had passed at Paris.
The maréchal told me he appeared undetermined whether to retire on the
banks of the Loire, or give battle to the allies near Paris. In the
afternoon he went to inspect the position of Marmont's army at Essonne,
with which he appeared to be satisfied, and determined to remain there
and manœuvre, with a view to disengage Paris and give battle. With the
greatest coolness he formed plans for the execution of these objects;
but, while thus employed, the officers, whom the maréchal had left at
Paris to deliver up that city to the allies, arrived, and informed them
of the events of the day. Napoleon, hearing this, became furious: He
raved about punishing the rebellious city, and giving it up to pillage.
With this resolution he separated from Marmont, and returned to
Fontainbleau."--_Memorable Events_, p. 201.
[37] "Soldiers! the enemy has stolen three marches upon us, and has made
himself master of Paris. He must be driven out of it. Unworthy
Frenchmen, emigrants, whom we had pardoned, have adopted the white
cockade, and have joined our enemies. Wretches! they shall receive the
reward of this new crime. Let us swear to conquer or to die, and to
cause to be respected that tri-coloured cockade, which, during twenty
years, has found us in the paths of glory and of honour."--LORD
BURGHERSH, _Observations, &c._, p. 274.
[38] "Ney produced the _Moniteur_, containing the decree of forfeiture,
and advised him to acquiesce and abdicate. Napoleon feigned to read,
turned pale, and appeared much agitated; but did not shed tears, as the
newspapers reported. He seemed not to know in what manner to act. He
then asked, 'Que voulez vous?' Ney answered, 'Il n'y a que l'abdication
qui puisse vous tirer de là.' During this conference, Lefebvre came in;
and upon Napoleon expressing astonishment at what had been announced to
him, said, in his blunt manner, 'You see what has resulted from not
listening to the advice of your friends to make peace: you remember the
communication I made to you lately, therefore you may think yourself
well off that affairs have terminated as they have.'"--_Memorable
Events_, p. 206.
[39] Baron Fain, p. 373.
[40] "He threw himself on a small yellow sofa, placed near the window,
and striking his thigh with a sort of convulsive action, exclaimed, 'No,
gentlemen, no! No regency! With my guard and Marmont's corps, I shall be
in Paris to-morrow.'"--BOURRIENNE, tom. i., p. 87.--On the day of the
entrance of the allies into Paris, Bourrienne, Napoleon's ex-private
secretary, was appointed to the important office of Postmaster-General;
a situation from which he was dismissed at the end of three weeks.
[41] "Immediately after their departure, Napoleon despatched a courier
to the Empress, from whom he had received letters, dated Vendome. He
authorised her to despatch to her father, the Duke of Cadore
(Champagny,) to solicit his intercession in favour of herself and her
son. Overpowered by the events of the day, he shut himself up in his
chamber."--BARON FAIN, p. 374.