_Buonaparte's arrival at Paris--The Chambers assemble, and adopt
Resolutions, indicating a wish for Napoleon's Abdication--Fouché
presents Napoleon's Abdication, which stipulates that his Son shall
succeed him--Carnot's Report to the Peers, of the means of
defence--Contradicted by Ney--Stormy Debate on the Abdication
Act--Both Chambers evade formally recognising Napoleon
II.--Provisional Government--Napoleon at Malmaison--His offer of his
services in the defence of Paris rejected--Surveillance of General
Beker--Means provided at Rochefort for his departure to the United
States--He arrives at Rochefort on 3d July--The Provisional
Government attempt in vain to treat with the Allies--The Allies
advance to Paris--Chamber of Peers disperse--Louis XVIII. re-enters
Paris on 8th July._
Immense as the direct and immediate consequences of the battle of
Waterloo certainly were, being the total loss of the campaign, and the
entire destruction of Napoleon's fine army, the more remote
contingencies to which it gave rise were so much more important, that it
may be doubted whether there was ever in the civilized world a great
battle followed by so many and such extraordinary results.
[Sidenote: PARIS.]
That part of the French army which escaped from the field of Waterloo,
fled in the most terrible disorder towards the frontiers of France.
Napoleon himself continued his flight from Charleroi, in the
neighbourhood of which was his first place of halting, and hurried on to
Philippeville. From this point, he designed, it was said, to have
marched to place himself at the head of Grouchy's army. But no troops of
any kind having been rallied, and Charleroi having been almost instantly
occupied by the Prussian pursuers, a report became current that the
division was destroyed, and Grouchy himself made prisoner. Napoleon,
therefore, pursued his own retreat, leaving orders, which were not
attended to, that the relics of the army should be rallied at Avesnes.
Soult could only succeed in gathering together a few thousands, as far
within the French territory as Laon. Meanwhile, Buonaparte, travelling
post, had reached Paris, and brought thither the news of his own defeat.
On the 19th of June the public ear of the capital had been stunned by
the report of a hundred pieces of cannon, which announced the victory at
Ligny, and the public prints had contained the most gasconading accounts
of that action; of the forcing the passage of the Sambre, the action at
Charleroi, and the battle of Quatre-bras. The Imperialists were in the
highest state of exultation, the Republicans doubtful, and the Royalists
dejected. On the morning of the 21st, the third day after the fatal
action, it was at first whispered, and then openly said, that Napoleon
had returned alone from the army on the preceding night, and was now in
the palace of Bourbon-Elysée. The fatal truth was not long in
transpiring--he had lost a dreadful and decisive pitched battle, and the
French army, which had left the capital so confident, so full of hope,
pride, and determination, was totally destroyed.
[Sidenote: CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES.]
Many reasons have been given for Napoleon's not remaining with his army
on this occasion, and endeavouring at least to bring it into a state of
reorganisation; but the secret seems to be explained by his apprehension
of the faction of Republicans and Constitutionalists in Paris. He must
have remembered that Fouché, and others of that party, had advised him
to end the distresses of France by his abdication of the crown, even
before he placed himself at the head of his army. He was aware, that
what they had ventured to suggest in his moment of strength, they would
not hesitate to demand and extort from him in the hour of his weakness,
and that the Chamber of Representatives would endeavour to obtain peace
for themselves by sacrificing him. "He is known," says an author already
quoted, friendly to his fame, "to have said, after the disasters of the
Russian campaign, that he would confound the Parisians by his presence,
and fall among them like a thunderbolt. But there are things which
succeed only because they have never been done before, and for that
reason ought never to be attempted again. His fifth flight from his army
occasioned the entire abandonment of himself and his cause by all who
might have forgiven him his misfortune, but required that he should be
the first to arise from the blow."[158]
It was a curious indication of public spirit in Paris, that, upon the
news of this appalling misfortune, the national funds rose, immediately
after the first shock of the tidings was past; so soon, that is, as men
had time to consider the probable consequence of the success of the
allies. It seemed as if public credit revived upon any intelligence,
however disastrous otherwise, which promised to abridge the reign of
Buonaparte.
The anticipations of Napoleon did not deceive him. It was plain, that,
whatever deference the Jacobins had for him in his hour of strength,
they had no compassion for his period of weakness. They felt the
opportunity favourable to get rid of him, and did not disguise their
purpose to do so.
The two Chambers hastily assembled. La Fayette addressed that of the
Representatives in the character of an old friend of freedom, spoke of
the sinister reports that were spread abroad, and invited the members to
rally under the three-coloured banner of liberty, equality, and public
order, by adopting five resolutions. The first declared, that the
independence of the nation was menaced; the second declared the sittings
of the Chambers permanent, and denounced the pains of treason against
whomever should attempt to dissolve them; the third announced that the
troops had deserved well of their country; the fourth called out the
national guard; the fifth invited the ministers to repair to the
Assembly.[159]
These propositions intimated the apprehensions of the Chamber of
Representatives, that they might be a second time dissolved by an armed
force, and, at the same time, announced their purpose to place
themselves at the head of affairs, without farther respect to the
Emperor. They were adopted, all but the fourth concerning the national
guard, which was considered as premature. Regnault de St. Jean d'Angely
attempted to read a bulletin, giving an imperfect and inconsistent
account of what had passed on the frontiers; but the representatives
became clamorous, and demanded the attendance of the ministers. At
length, after a delay of three or four hours, Carnot, Caulaincourt,
Davoust, and Fouché, entered the hall with Lucien Buonaparte.
The Chamber formed itself into a secret committee, before which the
ministers laid the full extent of the disaster, and announced that the
Emperor had named Caulaincourt, Fouché, and Carnot, as commissioners to
treat of peace with the allies. The ministers were bluntly reminded by
the Republican members, and particularly by Henry Lacoste, that they had
no basis for any negotiations which could be proposed in the Emperor's
name, since the allied powers had declared war against Napoleon, who was
now in plain terms pronounced, by more than one member, the sole
obstacle betwixt the nation and peace. Universal applause followed from
all parts of the hall, and left Lucien no longer in doubt, that the
representatives intended to separate their cause from that of his
brother. He omitted no art of conciliation or entreaty, and--more
eloquent probably in prose than in poetry--appealed to their love of
glory, their generosity, their fidelity, and the oaths which they had so
lately sworn. "We _have_ been faithful," replied Fayette; "we have
followed your brother to the sands of Egypt--to the snows of Russia. The
bones of Frenchmen, scattered in every region, attest our
fidelity."[160] All seemed to unite in one sentiment, that the
abdication of Buonaparte was a measure absolutely necessary. Davoust,
the minister at war, arose, and disclaimed, with protestations, any
intention of acting against the freedom or independence of the Chamber.
This was, in fact, to espouse their cause. A committee of five members
was appointed to concert measures with Ministers. Even the latter
official persons, though named by the Emperor, were not supposed to be
warmly attached to him. Carnot and Fouché were the natural leaders of
the popular party, and Caulaincourt was supposed to be on indifferent
terms with Napoleon, whose Ministers, therefore, seemed to adopt the
interest of the Chamber in preference to his. Lucien saw that his
brother's authority was ended, unless it could be maintained by
violence. The Chamber of Peers might have been more friendly to the
Imperial cause, but their constitution gave them as little confidence in
themselves as weight with the public. They adopted the three first
resolutions of the Lower Chamber, and named a committee of public
safety.
The line of conduct which the Representatives meant to pursue was now
obvious; they had spoken out, and named the sacrifice which they exacted
from Buonaparte, being nothing less than abdication. It remained to be
known whether the Emperor would adopt measures of resistance, or submit
to this encroachment. If there could be a point of right, where both
were so far wrong, it certainly lay with Napoleon. These very
Representatives were, by voluntary consent, as far as oaths and
engagements can bind men, his subjects, convoked in his name, and having
no political existence excepting as a part of his new constitutional
government. However great his faults to the people of France, he had
committed none towards these accomplices of his usurpation, nor were
they legislators otherwise than as he was their Emperor. Their right to
discard and trample upon him in his adversity, consisted only in their
having the power to do so; and the readiness which they showed to
exercise that power, spoke as little for their faith as for their
generosity. At the same time, our commiseration for fallen greatness is
lost in our sense of that justice, which makes the associates and tools
of a usurper the readiest implements of his ruin.
When Buonaparte returned to Paris, his first interview was with Carnot,
of whom he demanded, in his usual tone of authority, an instant supply
of treasure, and a levy of 300,000 men. The minister replied, that he
could have neither the one nor the other. Napoleon then summoned Maret,
Duke of Bassano, and other confidential persons of his court. But when
his civil counsellors talked of defence, the word wrung from him the
bitter ejaculation, "Ah, my old guard, could they but defend themselves
like you!" A sad confession, that the military truncheon, his best
emblem of command, was broken in his gripe. Lucien urged his brother to
maintain his authority, and dissolve the Chambers by force; but
Napoleon, aware that the national guard might take the part of the
representatives, declined an action so full of hazard. Davoust, was,
however, sounded concerning his willingness to act against the Chambers,
but he positively refused to do so. Some idea was held out by Fouché to
Napoleon, of his being admitted to the powers of a dictator; but this
could be only thrown out as a proposal for the purpose of amusing him.
In the meantime, arrived the news of the result of the meeting of the
Representatives in secret committee.
The gauntlet was now thrown down, and it was necessary that Napoleon
should resist or yield; declare himself absolute, and dissolve the
Chambers by violence; or abdicate the authority he had so lately
resumed. Lucien finding him still undetermined, hesitated not to say,
that the smoke of the battle of Mont Saint Jean had turned his
brain.[161] In fact, his conduct at this crisis was not that of a great
man. He dared neither venture on the desperate measures which might, for
a short time, have preserved his power, nor could he bring himself to
the dignified step of an apparently voluntary resignation. He clung to
what could no longer avail him, like the distracted criminal, who,
wanting resolution to meet his fate by a voluntary effort, must be
pushed from the scaffold by the hand of the executioner.
[Sidenote: GENERAL COUNCIL.]
Buonaparte held, upon the night of the 21st, a sort of general council,
comprehending the ministers of every description; the president and four
members of the Chamber of Peers, the president, and four
vice-presidents, of the Representatives, with other official persons and
counsellors of state. The Emperor laid before this assembly the state of
the nation, and required their advice. Regnault (who was the Imperial
orator in ordinary) seconded the statement with a proposal, that
measures be taken to recruit with heroes the heroic army, and bring
succours to what, by a happily selected phrase, he termed the
"astonished eagle." He opined, therefore, that the Chambers should make
an appeal to French valour, while the Emperor was treating of peace "in
the most steady and dignified manner." Fayette stated, that resistance
would but aggravate the calamities of France. The allies stood pledged
to demand a particular sacrifice when they first engaged in the war;
they were not likely to recede from it after this decisive victory. One
measure alone he saw betwixt the country and a bloody and ruinous
conflict, and he referred to the great and generous spirit of the
Emperor to discover its nature. Maret, Duke of Bassano, long
Buonaparte's most confidential friend, and fatally so, because (more a
courtier than a statesman) he attended rather to soothe his humour than
to guide his councils, took fire at this suggestion. He called for
severe measures against the Royalists and the disaffected; a
revolutionary police, and revolutionary punishments. "Had such," he
said, "been earlier resorted to, a person" (meaning probably Fouché)
"who now hears me, would not be now smiling at the misfortunes of his
country, and Wellington would not be marching upon Paris." This speech
was received with a burst of disapprobation, which even the presence of
the Emperor, in whose cause Maret was thus vehement, proved unable to
restrain; hisses and clamour drowned the voice of the speaker. Carnot,
who had juster views of the military strength, or rather weakness of
France at the moment, was desirous, democrat as he was, to retain the
advantage of Napoleon's talents. He is said to have wept when the
abdication was insisted upon. Lanjuinais and Constant supported the
sentiments of Fayette. But the Emperor appeared gloomy, dissatisfied,
and uncertain, and the council broke up without coming to any
determination.[162]
For another anxious night the decision of Buonaparte was suspended. Had
the nation, or even the ministers, been unanimous in a resolution to
defend themselves, unquestionably France might have been exposed to the
final chance of war, with some prospect of a struggle on Napoleon's
part; though, when it is considered within how short a time the allies
introduced, within the limits of France, an armed force amounting to
800,000 effective men, it does not appear how his resistance could have
eventually proved successful. It would be injustice to deny Napoleon a
natural feeling of the evils which must have been endured by the nation
in such a protracted contest, and we readily suppose him unwilling to
have effected a brief continuation of his reign, by becoming the cause
of so much misery to the fine country which he had so long ruled. Like
most men in difficulties, he received much more advice than offers of
assistance. The best counsel was, perhaps, that of an American
gentleman, who advised him instantly to retreat to the North American
States, where he could not indeed enjoy the royal privileges and
ceremonial, to which he was more attached than philosophy warrants, but
where that general respect would have been paid to him, which his
splendid talents, and wonderful career of adventure, were so well
calculated to enforce. But now, as at Moscow, he lingered too long in
forming a decided opinion; for, though the importunity of friends and
opponents wrung from him the resignation which was demanded at all
hands, yet it was clogged by conditions which could only be made in the
hope of retaining a predominant interest in the government by which his
own was to be succeeded.
On the morning of the 22d June, only four days after the defeat at
Waterloo, the Chamber of Representatives assembled at nine in the
morning, and expressed the utmost impatience to receive the Act of
Abdication. A motion was made by Duchesne, that it should be
peremptorily demanded from the Emperor, when this degree of violence was
rendered unnecessary by his compliance.[163] It was presented by Fouché,
whose intrigues were thus far crowned with success, and was couched in
the following terms:--
"Frenchmen!--In commencing war for maintaining the national
independence, I relied on the union of all efforts, of all wills,
and the concurrence of all the national authorities. I had reason to
hope for success, and I braved all the declarations of the powers
against me.
"Circumstances appear to me changed. I offer myself as a sacrifice
to the hatred of the enemies of France. May they prove sincere in
their declarations, and have really directed them only against my
power! My political life is terminated, and I proclaim my son, under
the title of Napoleon II., Emperor of the French.
"The present ministers will provisionally form the council of the
government. The interest which I take in my son induces me to invite
the Chambers to form, without delay, the regency by a law.
"Unite all for the public safety, in order to remain an independent
nation.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON."[164]
[Sidenote: PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT.]
The Republican party having thus obtained a victory, proposed instantly
several new models for settling the form of a constitution, in the room
of that, which, exactly three weeks before, they had sworn to in the
Champ de Mai. This was judged somewhat premature; and they resolved for
the present to content themselves with nominating a Provisional
Government, vesting the executive powers of the state in five
persons--two to be chosen from Buonaparte's House of Peers, and three
from that of the Representatives.
In the meanwhile, to preserve the decency due to the late Emperor, the
Chamber named a committee to wait on him with an address of thanks, in
which they carefully avoided all mention and recognition of his son.
Napoleon, for the last time, received the committee delegated to present
the address, in the imperial habit, and surrounded by his state-officers
and guards. He seemed pale and pensive, but firm and collected, and
heard with a steady indifference the praises which they bestowed on his
patriotic sacrifice. His answer recommended unanimity, and the speedy
preparation of means of defence; but at the conclusion he reminded them,
that his abdication was conditional, and comprehended the interests of
his son.
Lanjuinais, President of the Chamber, replied, with profound respect,
that the Chamber had given him no directions respecting the subject
which Napoleon pressed upon. "I told you," said he, turning to his
brother Lucien, "they would not, could not do it.--Tell the Assembly,"
he said, again addressing the President, "that I recommend my son to
their protection. It is in his favour I have abdicated."
Thus the succession of Napoleon II. came to be now the point of debate
between the abdicated Emperor and the Legislative Bodies. It is certain
the appointment could not have been rendered acceptable to the allies;
and the influence which Buonaparte and his friends were likely to have
in a regency, were strong arguments for all in France who had opposed
him in the struggle, uniting to set aside his family and dynasty.
Upon the same 22d June, a strange scene took place in the Chamber of
Peers. The government had received intelligence that Maréchal Grouchy,
whom we left on the banks of the Dyle, near Wavre, and who continued his
action with Thielman, to whom he was opposed, till deep in the night,
had, on hearing the loss of the battle at Waterloo, effected a most able
retreat through Namur, defended himself against several attacks, and
finally made his way to Laon. This good news encouraged Carnot to render
a brilliant account to the Chamber, of Grouchy being at the head of an
untouched army of upwards of 60,000 men (Grouchy's whole force at Wavre
having been only 32,000); of Soult collecting 20,000 of the old guard at
Mezières; of 10,000 new levies despatched from the interior to join the
rallied forces, with 200 pieces of cannon. Ney, half frantic at hearing
these exaggerated statements, and his mind galled with the sense of
Napoleon's injustice towards him, as expressed in the bulletins, started
up, and spoke like a possessed person under the power of the exorcist.
There was a reckless desperation in the manner of his contradicting the
minister. It seemed as if he wished the state of the world undone in his
own undoing. "The report," he said, "was false--false in every respect.
Dare they tell eyewitnesses of the disastrous day of the 18th, that we
have yet 60,000 soldiers embodied? Grouchy cannot have under him 20,000,
or 25,000 soldiers, at the utmost. Had he possessed a greater force, he
might have covered the retreat, and the Emperor would have been still in
command of an army on the frontiers. Not a man of the guard," he said,
"will ever rally more. I myself commanded them--I myself witnessed their
total extermination, ere I left the field of battle. They are
annihilated.--The enemy are at Nivelles with 80,000 men; they may, if
they please, be at Paris in six days. There is no safety for France but
in instant propositions of peace." On being contradicted by General
Flahault, Ney resumed his sinister statement with even more vehemence;
and at length striking at once into the topic which all felt, but none
had ventured yet to name, he said in a low, but distinct voice--"Yes! I
repeat it--your only course is by negotiation--you must recall the
Bourbons;--and, for me, I will retire to the United States."
The most bitter reproaches were heaped on Ney for this last expression.
Lavalette and Carnot especially appeared incensed against him. Ney
replied with sullen contempt to those who blamed his conduct, "I am not
one of those to whom their interest is every thing; what should I gain
by the restoration of Louis, except being shot for desertion? but I must
speak the truth, for the sake of the country." This strange scene sunk
deep into the minds of thinking men, who were thenceforward induced to
view the subsequent sounding resolutions, and bustling debates of the
Chambers, as empty noise, unsupported by the state of the national
resources.
[Sidenote: ACT OF ABDICATION.]
After this debate on the state of the means of defence, there followed
one scarce less stormy, in the House of Peers, upon the reading of the
Act of Abdication. Lucien Buonaparte took up the question of the
succession, and insisted upon the instant recognition of his nephew,
according to the rules of the constitution. The Count de Pontecoulant
interrupted the orator, demanding by what right Lucien, an Italian
prince, and an alien, presumed to name a sovereign to the French empire,
where he himself had not even the privileges of a denizen? To this
objection--a strange one, certainly, coming from lips which had sworn
faith but twenty-two days before to a constitution, recognising Lucien
not only as a denizen, but as one of the blood-royal of France, the
prince answered, that he was a Frenchman by his sentiments, and by
virtue of the laws. Pontecoulant then objected to accept as sovereign a
child residing in a different kingdom; and Labédoyère, observing the
hesitation of the assembly, started up, and demeaning himself with
unrestrained fury, exhibited the same blind and devoted attachment to
Napoleon, which had prompted him to show the example of defection at
Grenoble.
"The Emperor," he said, "had abdicated solely in behalf of his son. His
resignation was null, if his son was not instantly proclaimed. And who
were they who opposed this generous resolution? Those whose voices had
been always at the sovereign's devotion while in prosperity; who had
fled from him in adversity, and who were already hastening to receive
the yoke of foreigners. Yes," continued this impetuous young man, aiding
his speech with the most violent gestures, and overpowering, by the
loudness of his tone, the murmurs of the assembly, "if you refuse to
acknowledge the Imperial prince, I declare that Napoleon must again draw
his sword--again shed blood. At the head of the brave Frenchmen who have
bled in his cause, we will rally around him; and woe to the base
generals who are perhaps even now meditating new treasons! I demand that
they be impeached, and punished as deserters of the national
standard--that their names be given to infamy, their houses razed, their
families proscribed and exiled. We will endure no traitors amongst us.
Napoleon, in resigning his power to save the nation, has done his duty
to himself, but the nation is not worthy of him, since she has a second
time compelled him to abdicate; she who vowed to abide by him in
prosperity and reverses." The ravings of this daring enthusiast, who
was, in fact, giving language to the feelings of a great part of the
French army, were at length drowned in a general cry of order. "You
forget yourself," exclaimed Massena. "You believe yourself still in the
_corps de garde_," said Lameth. Labédoyère strove to go on, but was
silenced by the general clamour, which at length put an end to this
scandalous scene.[165]
The peers, like the deputies of the Lower Chamber, having eluded the
express recognition of Napoleon II., the two chambers proceeded to name
the members of the provisional government. These were Carnot, Fouché,
Caulaincourt, Grenier, and Quinette.[166] In their proclamation they
stated that Napoleon had resigned, and that his son had been
_proclaimed_, (which, by the way, was not true;) calling on the nation
for exertions, sacrifices, and unanimity, and promising, if not an
actually new constitution, as had been usual on such occasions, yet such
a complete revision and repair of that which was now three weeks old, as
should make it in every respect as good as new.[167]
This address had little effect either on the troops or the Federates,
who, like Labédoyère, were of opinion that Napoleon's abdication could
only be received on his own terms. These men assembled in armed parties,
and paraded under Buonaparte's windows, at the palace of Bourbon-Elysée.
Money and liquor were delivered to them, which increased their cries of
_Vive Napoleon!_ _Vive l'Empereur!_ They insulted the national guards,
and seemed disposed to attack the residence of Fouché. On the other
hand, the national guards were 30,000 men in number, disposed in general
to support order, and many of them leaning to the side of Louis XVIII. A
moment of internal convulsion seemed inevitable; for it was said, that
if Napoleon II. was not instantly acknowledged, Buonaparte would come
down and dissolve the Chamber with an armed force.
On the meeting of the 24th June, the important question of succession
was decided, or rather evaded, as follows:--Manuel, generally understood
to be the organ of Fouché in the House of Representatives, made a long
speech to show that there was no occasion for a formal recognition of
the succession of Napoleon II., since he was, by the terms of the
constitution, already in possession of the throne. When the orator had
given this deep reason that their sovereign should neither be
acknowledged nor proclaimed, purely because he was their sovereign, all
arose and shouted, _Vive Napoleon II.!_ But when there was a proposal to
swear allegiance to the new Emperor, there was a general cry of "No
oaths! No oaths!" as if there existed a consciousness in the Chamber of
having been too lavish of these ill-redeemed pledges, and a general
disgust at commencing a new course of perjury.
The Chamber of Representatives thus silenced, if they did not satisfy,
the Imperialist party, by a sort of incidental and ostensible
acknowledgment of the young Napoleon's right to the crown; while at the
same time, by declaring the Provisional Government to be a necessary
guarantee for the liberties of the subject, they prevented the
interference either of Napoleon himself, or any of his friends, in the
administration of the country. Yet, notwithstanding the simulated nature
of their compliance with the special condition of Napoleon's
resignation, the Chambers and Provisional Government were as strict in
exacting from the abdicated sovereign the terms of his bargain, as if
they had paid him the stipulated value in sterling, instead of
counterfeit coin. Thus they exacted from him a proclamation, addressed
in his own name to the soldiers, in order to confirm the fact of his
abdication, which the troops were unwilling to believe on any authority
inferior to his own. In this address, there are, however, expressions
which show his sense of the compulsion under which he acted. After an
exhortation to the soldiers to continue in their career of honour, and
an assurance of the interest which he should always take in their
exploits, follows this passage:--"Both you and I have been calumniated.
Men, very unfit to appreciate our labours, have seen in the marks of
attachment which you have given me, a zeal of which I was the sole
object. Let your future successes tell them, that it was the country,
above all things, which you served in obeying me; and that, if I had any
share in your affections, I owed it to my ardent love for France, our
common mother."[168]
[Sidenote: MALMAISON.]
These expressions were highly disagreeable to the Chamber of
Representatives, who at the same time regarded the presence of Napoleon
in the capital as dangerous to their own power, and to the public
tranquillity. The suburbs, with their fierce inmates, continued to be
agitated, and soldiers, the straggling relics of the field of Waterloo,
were daily gathering under the walls of Paris, furious at their recent
defeat, and calling on their Emperor to lead them to vengeance. There
seems to have been little to prevent Napoleon from still placing himself
at the head of a small but formidable army. To remove him from this
temptation, the Provisional Government required him to retire to the
palace of Malmaison, near St. Germains, so long the favourite abode of
the discarded Josephine. Napoleon had not been within its walls a single
day, before, surrounded by Fouché's police, he found that he, who, not a
month since, had disposed of the fate of myriads, was no longer the free
master of his own actions. He was watched and controlled, though without
the use of actual force, and now, for the first time, felt what it was
to lose that free agency, of which his despotism had for so many years
deprived so large a portion of mankind. Yet he seemed to submit to his
fate with indifference, or only expressed impatience when beset by his
personal creditors, who, understanding that he was not likely to remain
long in France, attempted to extort from him a settlement of their
claims. This petty persecution was given way to by the government, as
one of several expedients to abridge his residence in France; and they
had the means of using force, if all should fail.
Short as was the time he lingered at Malmaison, incredible as it may be
thought, Napoleon was almost forgotten in Paris. "No one," says a
well-informed author, living in that city during the crisis, "except the
immediate friends of government, pretends to know whether he is still at
Malmaison, or seems to think it a question of importance to ask. On
Saturday last, Count M---- saw him there; he was tranquil, but quite
lost. His friends now pretend, that, since his return from Elba, he has
never been quite the man he was."[169] There was, however, a reason for
his protracting his residence at Malmaison, more honourable than mere
human reluctance to submit to inevitable calamity.
The English and Prussian forces were now approaching Paris by rapid
marches; every town falling before them which could have been reckoned
upon as a bar to their progress. When Paris was again to be girt round
with hostile armies, honourable as well as political feelings might lead
Napoleon to hope that the Representatives might be inclined to wave all
personal animosity, and, having recourse to his extraordinary talents
and his influence over the minds of the army and federates, by which
alone the capital could be defended, might permit him once more to
assume the sword for protection of Paris. He offered to command the army
as general in chief, in behalf of his son. He offered to take share in
the defence, as an ordinary citizen. But the internal discord had gone
too far. The popular party which then prevailed, saw more danger in the
success of Napoleon, than in the superiority of the allies. The latter
they hoped to conciliate by treaty. They doubted, with good reason, the
power of resisting them by force; and if such resistance was, or could
be maintained by Napoleon, they feared his supremacy, in a military
command, at least as much as the predominance of the allies. His
services were therefore declined by them.
Like skilful anglers, the Provisional Government had been gradually
drawing their nets around Napoleon, and it was now time, as they
thought, to drag him upon the shallows. They proceeded to place him
under a sort of arrest, by directing General Beker, an officer with whom
Napoleon had been on indifferent terms, to watch over, and, if
necessary, to restrain his movements in such a manner, that it should be
impossible for him to make his escape, and to use measures to induce him
to leave Malmaison for Rochefort, where the means were provided for his
departure out of France. Orders were at the same time given for two
frigates to transport him to the United States of America; and the
_surveillance_ of General Beker and the police was to continue until the
late Emperor was on board the vessels. This order was qualified by
directions that all possible care should be taken to ensure the safety
of Napoleon's person. A corresponding order was transmitted by Davoust,
who, giving way to one of those equivocal bursts of feeling, by which
men compromise a conflict between their sentiments and their duty or
their interest, refused to sign it himself, but ordered his secretary to
do so, which, as he observed, would be quite the same.[170]
Napoleon submitted to his destiny with resignation and dignity. He
received General Beker with ease, and even cheerfulness; and the latter,
with feelings which did him honour, felt the task committed to him the
more painful, that he had experienced the personal enmity of the
individual who was now intrusted to his custody.[171] About forty
persons, of different ranks and degrees, honourably dedicated their
services to the adversity of the Emperor, whom they had served in
prosperity.
Yet, amid all these preparations for departure, a longing hope remained,
that his exile might be dispensed with. He heard the distant cannonade
as the war-horse hears the trumpet. Again he offered his services to
march against Blucher as a simple volunteer, undertaking that, when he
had repulsed the invaders, he would then proceed on his journey of
expatriation.[172] He had such hopes of his request being granted as to
have his horses brought out and in readiness to enable him to join the
army. But the Provisional Government anew declined an offer, the
acceptance of which would indeed have ruined all hopes of treating with
the allies. Fouché, on hearing Napoleon's proposal, is said to have
exclaimed, "Is he laughing at us!" Indeed, his joining the troops would
have soon made him master of the destiny of the Provisional Government,
whatever might have been the final result.
[Sidenote: ARRIVES AT ROCHEFORT.]
On the 29th of June, Napoleon departed from Malmaison; on the 3d of July
he arrived at Rochefort. General Beker accompanied him, nor does his
journey seem to have been marked by any circumstances worthy of remark.
Wherever he came, the troops received him with acclamation; the citizens
respected the misfortunes of one who had been wellnigh master of the
world, and were silent where they could not applaud.
Thus, the reign of the Emperor Napoleon was completely ended. But,
before adverting to his future fate, we must complete, in a few words,
the consequences of his abdication, and offer some remarks on the
circumstances by which it was extorted and enforced.
The Provisional Government had sent commissioners to the Duke of
Wellington, to request passports for Napoleon to the States of America.
The duke had no instructions from his government to grant them. The
Prussian and English generals alike declined all overtures made for the
establishment, or acknowledgment, either of the present Provisional
Administration, or any plan which they endeavoured to suggest, short of
the restoration of the Bourbons to the seat of government. The
Provisional Commissioners endeavoured, with as little success, to awaken
the spirit of national defence. They had lost the road to the soldiers'
hearts. The thoughts of patriotism had in the army become indissolubly
united with the person and the qualities of Napoleon. It was in vain
that deputies, with scarfs, and proclamations of public right, and
invocation of the ancient watchwords of the Revolution, endeavoured to
awaken the spirit of 1794. The soldiers and federates answered sullenly,
"Why should we fight any more? we have no longer an Emperor."
Meanwhile, the Royalist party assumed courage, and showed themselves in
arms in several of the departments, directed the public opinion in many
others, and gained great accessions from the Constitutionalists. Indeed,
if any of the latter still continued to dread the restoration of the
Bourbons, it was partly from the fear of reaction and retaliation on the
side of the successful Royalists, and partly because it was apprehended
that the late events might have made on the mind of Louis an impression
unfavourable to constitutional limitations, a disgust to those by whom
they were recommended and supported, and a propensity to resume the
arbitrary measures by which his ancestors had governed their kingdom.
Those who nourished those apprehensions could not but allow, that they
were founded on the fickleness and ingratitude of the people, who had
shown themselves unworthy of, and easily induced to conspire against,
the mild and easy rule of a limited monarchy. But they involved,
nevertheless, tremendous consequences, if the King should be disposed to
act upon rigorous and vindictive principles; and it was such an
apprehension on the part of some, joined to the fears of others for
personal consequences, the sullen shame of a third party, and the hatred
of the army to the princes whom they had betrayed, which procured for
the Provisional Government a show of obedience.
It was thus that the Chambers continued their resistance to receiving
their legitimate monarch, though unable to excite any enthusiasm save
that expressed in the momentary explosions discharged within their own
place of meeting, which gratified no ears, and heated no brains but
their own. In the meanwhile, the armies of Soult and Grouchy were driven
under the walls of Paris, where they were speedily followed by the
English and the Prussians. The natural gallantry of the French then
dictated a resistance, which was honourable to their arms, though
totally unsuccessful. The allies, instead of renewing the doubtful
attack on Montmartre, crossed the Seine, and attacked Paris on the
undefended side. There was not, as in 1814, a hostile army to endanger
the communications on their rear. The French, however, showed great
bravery, both by an attempt to defend Versailles, and in a
_coup-de-main_ of General Excelmans, by which he attempted to recover
that town. But at length, in consequence of the result of a council of
war held in Paris, on the night betwixt the 2d and 3d of July, an
armistice was concluded, by which the capital was surrendered to the
allies, and the French army was drawn off behind the Loire.
The allies suspended their operations until the French troops should be
brought to submit to their destined movement in retreat, against which
they struggled with vain enthusiasm. Permitting their violence to
subside, they delayed their own occupation of Paris until the 7th of
July, when it had been completely evacuated. The British and Prussians
then took military possession, in a manner strictly regular, but arguing
a different state of feelings on both parts, from those exhibited in the
joyous procession of the allies along the Boulevards in 1814. The
Provisional Government continued their sittings, though Fouché, the
chief among them, had been long intriguing (and ever since the battle of
Waterloo, with apparent sincerity) for the second restoration of the
Bourbon family, on such terms as should secure the liberties of France.
They received, on the 6th of July, the final resolution of the allied
sovereigns, that they considered all authority emanating from the
usurped power of Napoleon Buonaparte as null, and of no effect; and that
Louis XVIII., who was presently at Saint Denis, would on the next day,
or day after at farthest, enter his capital, and resume his regal
authority.
On the 7th of July, the Provisional Commission dissolved itself. The
Chamber of Peers, when they heard the act of surrender, dispersed in
silence; but that of the Representatives continued to sit, vote, and
debate, for several hours. The president then prorogued the meeting till
eight the next morning, in defiance of the cries of several members, who
called on him to maintain the literal permanence of the sitting. The
next morning, the members who attended found the hall sentinelled by the
national guard, who refused them admittance, and heard the exclamations
and complaints of the deputies with great disregard. Nay, the
disappointed and indignant legislators were subjected to the ridicule of
the idle spectators, who accompanied the arrival and retreat of each
individual with laughter and acclamation, loud in proportion to the
apparent excess of his mortification.
[Sidenote: LOUIS RE-ENTERS PARIS.]
On the 8th of July, Louis re-entered his capital, attended by a very
large body of the national guards and royal volunteers, as well as by
his household troops. In the rear of these soldiers came a numerous
état-major, among whom were distinguished the Maréchals Victor, Marmont,
Macdonald, Oudinot, Gouvion, St. Cyr, Moncey, and Lefebvre. An immense
concourse of citizens received, with acclamations, the legitimate
monarch; and the females were observed to be particularly eager in their
expressions of joy. Thus was Louis again installed in the palace of his
ancestors, over which the white banner once more floated. Here,
therefore, ended that short space, filled with so much that is
wonderful, that period of an Hundred Days, in which the events of a
century seemed to be contained. Before we proceed with the narrative,
which must in future be the history of an individual, it may not be
improper to cast a look back upon the events comprised within that
extraordinary period, and offer a few remarks on their political nature
and tendency.
It is unnecessary to remind the reader, that Napoleon's restoration to
the throne was the combined work of two factions. One comprehended the
army, who desired the recovery of their own honour, sullied by recent
defeats, and the recalling of the Emperor to their head, that he might
save them from being disbanded, and lead them to new victories. The
other party was that which not only desired that the kingdom should
possess a large share of practical freedom, but felt interested that the
doctrines of the Revolution should be recognised, and particularly that
which was held to entitle the people, or those who might contrive to
assume the right of representing them, to alter the constitution of the
government at pleasure, and to be, as was said of the great Earl of
Warwick, the setters up and pullers down of kings. This party, availing
themselves of some real errors of the reigning family, imagining more,
and exciting a cloud of dark suspicions, had instigated a general
feeling of dissatisfaction against the Bourbons. But though they
probably might have had recourse to violence, nothing appears less
probable than their success in totally overturning royalty, had they
been unsupported by the soldiers. The army, which rose so readily at
Buonaparte's summons, had no community of feeling with the Jacobins, as
they were called; and but for his arrival upon the scene, would have
acted, there can be little doubt, at the command of the maréchals, who
were almost all attached to the royal family. It was, therefore, the
attachment of the army to their ancient commander which gave success to
the joint enterprise, which the Jacobinical party alone would have
attempted in vain.
[Sidenote: THE CHAMBERS.]
The Republican, or Jacobin party, closed with their powerful ally; their
leaders accepted titles at his hands; undertook offices, and became
members of a Chamber of Peers and of Representatives, summoned by his
authority. They acknowledged him as their Emperor; received as his boon
a new constitution; and swore in the face of all France the oath of
fealty to it, and to him as their sovereign. On such terms the Emperor
and his Legislative Body parted on the 7th of June. Suspicion there
existed between them certainly, but, in all outward appearance, he
departed a contented prince from a contented people. Eleven days
brought the battle of Waterloo, with all its consequences. Policy of a
sound and rational sort should have induced the Chambers to stand by the
Emperor whom they had made, to arm him with the power which the occasion
required, and avail themselves of his extraordinary military talent, to
try some chance of arresting the invaders in their progress. Even shame
might have prevented them from lending their shoulders to overthrow the
tottering throne before which they had so lately kneeled. They
determined otherwise. The instant he became unfortunate, Napoleon ceased
to be their Emperor, the source of their power and authority. They could
see nothing in him but the hurt deer, who is to be butted from the herd;
the Jonas in the vessel, who is to be flung overboard. When Napoleon,
therefore, talked to them of men and arms, they answered him, with
"equality and the rights of man;" every chance of redeeming the
consequences of Waterloo was lost, and the Emperor of their choice, if
not ostensibly, was in effect at least arrested, and sent to the
sea-coast, like a felon for deportation. Their conduct, however, went
clearly to show, that Napoleon was not the free choice of the French
people, and especially that he was not the choice of those who termed
themselves exclusively the friends of freedom.
Having thus shown how easily they could get rid of the monarch who had
called them into political existence, the Chambers applied to the
allies, inviting them to give their concurrence to the election of
another sovereign, and assist them to build another throne on the
quicksand which had just swallowed that of Napoleon. In one respect they
were not unreasonably tenacious. They cared little who the sovereign
should be, whether Orleans or Orange, the Englishman Wellington or the
Cossack Platoff, providing only he should derive no right from any one
but themselves; and that they should be at liberty to recall that right
when it might please them to do so. And there can be little doubt, that
any new sovereign and constitution which could have been made by the
assistance of such men, would have again occasioned the commencement of
the wild dance of revolution, till like so many mad Dervises, dizzy with
the whirl, the French nation would once more have sunk to rest under the
iron sway of despotism.
The allied sovereigns viewed these proposals with an evil eye, both in
respect to their nature, and to those by whom they were proposed. Of the
authorities, the most prudent was the Duke of Otranto, and he had been
Fouché of Nantes. Carnot's name was to be found at all the bloody
rescripts of Robespierre, in which the conscience of the old decemvir
and young count had never found any thing to boggle at. There were many
others, distinguished in the Revolutionary days. The language which they
held was already assuming the cant of democracy, and though there was
among them a large proportion of good and able men, it was not to be
forgotten how many of such existed in the first Assembly, for no purpose
but to seal the moderation and rationality of their political opinions
with their blood. It was a matter of imperious necessity to avoid
whatever might give occasion to renew those scenes of shameful
recollections, and the sovereigns saw a guarantee against their return,
in insisting that Louis XVIII. should remount the throne as its
legitimate owner.
[Sidenote: LEGITIMACY.]
The right of legitimacy, or the right of succession, a regulation
adopted into the common law of most monarchical constitutions, is
borrowed from the analogy of private life, where the eldest son becomes
naturally the head and protector of the family upon the decease of the
father. While states, indeed, are small--before laws are settled--and
when much depends on the personal ability and talents of the
monarch--the power, which, for aught we know, may exist among the
abstract rights of man, of choosing each chief magistrate after the
death of his predecessor, or perhaps more frequently, may be exercised
without much inconvenience. But as states become extended, and their
constitutions circumscribed and bounded by laws, which leaves less scope
and less necessity for the exercise of the sovereign's magisterial
functions, men become glad to exchange the licentious privilege of a
Tartarian couroultai, or a Polish diet, for the principle of legitimacy;
because the chance of a hereditary successor's proving adequate to the
duties of his situation, is at least equal to that of a popular election
lighting upon a worthy candidate; and because, in the former case, the
nation is spared the convulsions occasioned by previous competition and
solicitation, and succeeding heart-burnings, factions, civil war, and
ruin, uniformly found at last to attend elective monarchies.
The doctrine of legitimacy is peculiarly valuable in a limited monarchy,
because it affords a degree of stability otherwise unattainable. The
principle of hereditary monarchy, joined to that which declares that the
King can do no wrong, provides for the permanence of the executive
government, and represses that ambition which would animate so many
bosoms, were there a prospect of the supreme sway becoming vacant, or
subject to election from time to time. The King's ministers, on the
other hand, being responsible for his actions, remain a check, for their
own sakes, upon the exercise of his power; and thus provision is made
for the correction of all ordinary evils of administration, since, to
use an expressive, though vulgar simile, it is better to rectify any
occasional deviation from the regular course by changing the driver,
than by overturning the carriage.
Such is the principle of legitimacy which was invoked by Louis XVIII.,
and recognised by the allied sovereigns. But it must not be confounded
with the slavish doctrine, that the right thus vested is, by divine
origin, indefeasible. The heir-at-law in private life may dissipate by
his folly, or forfeit by his crimes, the patrimony which the law conveys
to him; and the legitimate monarch may most unquestionably, by
departing from the principles of the constitution under which he is
called to reign, forfeit for himself, and for his heirs if the
legislature shall judge it proper, that crown, which the principle of
legitimacy bestowed on him as his birth-right. The penalty of forfeiture
is an extreme case, provided, not in virtue of the constitution, which
recognises no possible delinquency in the sovereign, but because the
constitution has been attacked and infringed upon by the monarch, and
therefore can no longer be permitted to afford him shelter. The crimes
by which this high punishment is justly incurred, must therefore be of
an extraordinary nature, and beyond the reach of those correctives for
which the constitution provides, by the punishment of ministers and
counsellors. The constitutional buckler of impeccability covers the
monarch (personally) for all blameworthy use of his power, providing it
is exercised within the limits of the constitution; it is when he stirs
beyond it, and not sooner, that it affords no defence for the bosom of a
tyrant. A King of Britain, for example, may wage a rash war, or make a
disgraceful peace, in the lawful, though injudicious and blameworthy
exercise of the power vested in him by the constitution. His advisers,
not he himself, shall be called in such a case, to their responsibility.
But if, like James II., the sovereign infringes upon, or endeavours to
destroy, the constitution itself, it is then that resistance becomes
lawful and honourable; and the King is justly held to have forfeited the
right which descended to him from his forefathers, by his attempt to
encroach on the rights of the subjects.
The principles of hereditary monarchy, of the inviolability of the
person of the King, and of the responsibility of ministers, were
recognised by the constitutional charter of France. Louis XVIII. was
therefore, during the year previous to Buonaparte's return, the lawful
sovereign of France, and it remains to be shown by what act of treason
to the constitution he had forfeited his right of legitimacy. If the
reader will turn back to vol. iv., p. 86, (and we are not conscious of
having spared the conduct of the Bourbons,) he will probably be of
opinion with us, that the errors of the restored King's government were
not only fewer than might have been expected in circumstances so new and
difficult, but were of such a nature as an honest, well-meaning, and
upright Opposition would soon have checked; he will find that not one of
them could be personally attributed to Louis XVIII., and that, far from
having incurred the forfeiture of his legitimate rights, he had, during
these few months, laid a strong claim to the love, veneration, and
gratitude of his subjects. He had fallen a sacrifice, in some degree, to
the humours and rashness of persons connected with his family and
household--still more to causeless jealousies and unproved doubts, the
water-colours which insurrection never lacks to paint her cause with; to
the fickleness of the French people, who became tired of his simple,
orderly, and peaceful government; but, above all, to the dissatisfaction
of a licentious and licensed soldiery, and of clubs of moody banditti,
panting for a time of pell-mell havoc and confusion. The forcible
expulsion of Louis XVIII., arising from such motives, could not break
the solemn compact entered into by France with all Europe, when she
received her legitimate monarch from the hand of her clement conquerors,
and with him, and for his sake, obtained such conditions of peace as she
was in no condition to demand, and would never otherwise have been
granted. The King's misfortune, as it arose from no fault of his own,
could infer no forfeiture of his vested right. Europe, the virtual
guarantee of the treaty of Paris, had also a title, leading back the
lawful King in her armed and victorious hand, to require of France his
reinstatement in his rights; and the termination which she thus offered
to the war was as just and equitable as the conduct of the sovereigns
during this brief campaign had been honourable and successful.
To these arguments, an unprejudiced eye could scarcely see any answer;
yet the popular party endeavoured to found a pleading against the second
restoration of Louis, upon the declaration of the allies. This manifesto
had announced, they said, that the purpose of the war was directed
against Buonaparte personally, and that it was the intention of the
allied sovereigns, when he should be dethroned, to leave the French the
free exercise of choice respecting their own internal government.[173]
The Prince Regent's declaration, in particular, was referred to, as
announcing that the treaty of Vienna, which resolved on the dethronement
of Napoleon, should not bind the British government to insist upon the
restoration of the Bourbon family as an indispensable condition of
peace.[174] Those who urged this objection did not, or would not
consider the nature of the treaty which this explanatory clause referred
to. That treaty of Vienna had for its express object the restoration of
Louis XVIII., and the Prince Regent adhered to it with the same purpose
of making every exertion for bringing about that event. The restrictive
clause was only introduced, because his Royal Highness did not intend to
bind himself to make that restoration _alone_ the cause of continuing
the war to extremity. Many things might have happened to render an
absolute engagement of this nature highly inexpedient; but, since none
of these did happen, and since the re-establishment of the throne of the
Bourbons was, in consequence of the victory of Waterloo, a measure which
could be easily accomplished, it necessarily followed, that it _was_ to
be accomplished according to the tenor of the treaty of Vienna.
But, even had the sovereigns positively announced in their manifestoes,
that the will of the French people should be consulted exclusively, what
right had the Legislative Body, assembled by Buonaparte, to assume the
character of the French people? They had neither weight nor influence
with any party in the state, except by the momentary possession of an
authority, which was hardly acknowledged on any side. The fact, that
Napoleon's power had ceased to exist, did not legitimate them. On the
contrary, flowing from his commission, it must be held as having fallen
with his authority. They were either the Chambers summoned by Napoleon,
and bound to him as far as oaths and professions could bind them, or
they were a body without any pretension whatever to a political
character.
La Fayette, indeed, contended that the present representatives of France
stood in the same situation as the convention parliaments of England,
and the army encamped in Hounslow-heath, at the time of the English
Revolution. To have rendered this parallel apt, it required all the
peculiar circumstances of justice which attended the great event of
1688. The French should have been able to vindicate the reason of their
proceedings by the aggressions of their exiled monarch, and by the will
of the nation generally, nay, almost unanimously, expressed in
consequence thereof. This, we need not say, they were wholly unable to
do. But the English history _did_ afford one example of an assembly,
exactly resembling their own, in absence of right, and exuberance of
pretension; and that precedent existed when the Rump Parliament
contrived to shuffle the cards out of the hands of Richard Cromwell, as
the Provisional Commissioners at Paris were endeavouring by legerdemain
to convey the authority from Napoleon II. This Rump Parliament also sat
for a little time as a government, and endeavoured to settle the
constitution upon their own plan, in despite of the whole people of
England, who were longing for the restoration of their lawful monarch,
as speedily was shown to be the case, when Monk, with an armed force,
appeared to protect them in the declaration of their real sentiments.
This was the most exact parallel afforded by English history to the
situation of the Provisional Commissioners of France; and both they and
the Rump Parliament being equally intrusive occupants of the supreme
authority, were alike justly deprived of it by the return of the
legitimate monarch.
[Sidenote: SECOND RESTORATION.]
While the allied powers were thus desirous that the King of France
should obtain possession of a throne which he had never forfeited, they,
and England in particular, saw at once the justice and the policy of
securing to France every accession of well-regulated freedom, which she
had obtained by and through the Revolution, as well as such additional
improvements upon her constitution as experience had shown to be
desirable. These were pointed out and stipulated for by the celebrated
Fouché, who, on this occasion, did much service to his country. Yet he
struggled hard, that while the King acknowledged, which he was ready to
do, the several benefits, both in point of public feeling and public
advantage, which France had derived from the Revolution, the sovereign
should make some steps to acknowledge the Revolution itself.[175] He
contended for the three-coloured banners being adopted, as a matter of
the last importance;--in that, somewhat resembling the archfiend in the
legends of necromancy, who, when the unhappy persons with whom he deals
decline to make over their souls and bodies according to his first
request, is humble enough to ask and accept the most petty
sacrifices--the paring of the nails, or a single lock of hair, providing
it is offered in symbol of homage and devotion. But Louis XVIII. was not
thus to be drawn into an incidental and equivocal homologation, as
civilians term it, of all the wild work of a period so horrible, which
must have been by implication a species of ratification even of the
death of his innocent and murdered brother. To preserve and cherish the
good which had flowed from the Revolution, was a very different thing
from a ratification of the Revolution itself. A tempest may cast rich
treasures upon the beach, a tornado may clear the air; but while these
benefits are suitably prized and enjoyed, it is surely not requisite
that, like ignorant Indians, we should worship the wild surge, and erect
altars to the howling of the wind.
The King of France having steadily refused all proposals which went to
assign to the government an authority founded on the Revolution, the
constitution of France is to be recognised as that of a hereditary
monarchy, limited by the Royal Charter, and by the principles of
freedom. It thus affords to the other existing monarchies of Europe a
guarantee against sudden and dangerous commotion; while in favour of the
subject, it extends all the necessary checks against arbitrary sway, and
all the suitable provisions for ameliorating and extending the
advantages of liberal institutions, as opportunity shall offer, and the
expanding light of information shall recommend.
The allies, though their treaty with France was not made in the same
humour of romantic generosity which dictated that of 1814, insisted upon
no articles which could be considered as dishonourable to that nation.
The disjoining from her empire three or four border fortresses was
stipulated, in order to render a rapid and successful invasion of
Germany or the Netherlands more difficult in future. Large sums of money
were also exacted in recompense of the heavy expenses of the allies; but
they were not beyond what the wealth of France could readily discharge.
A part of her fortresses were also detained by the allies as a species
of pledge for the peaceable behaviour of the kingdom; but these were to
be restored after a season, and the armies of Europe, which for a time
remained within the French territories, were at the same time to be
withdrawn. Finally, that splendid Museum, which the right of conquest
had collected by the stripping of so many states, was transferred by the
same right of conquest, not to those of the allies who had great armies
in the field, but to the poor and small states, who had resigned their
property to the French under the influence of terror, and received it
back from the confederates with wonder and gratitude.
These circumstances were indeed galling to France for the moment; but
they were the necessary consequence of the position in which, perhaps
rather passively than actively, she had been placed by the Revolution of
the Hundred Days. All the prophecies which had been circulated to
animate the people against the allies, of their seeking selfish and
vindictive objects, or endeavouring to destroy the high national rank
which that fair kingdom ought to hold in Europe, were proved to be
utterly fallacious. The conquered provinces, as they are called, the
acquisitions of Louis XIV., were not rent from the French empire--their
colonies were left as at the peace of Paris. The English did not impose
on them an unfavourable treaty of commerce, which Napoleon affirmed was
their design, and the omission to insist on which he afterwards
considered as a culpable neglect of British interests by the English
ministers. France was left, as she ought to be, altogether independent,
and splendidly powerful.
Neither were the predictions concerning the stability of the new royal
government less false than had been the vaticinations respecting the
purposes of the allies. Numbers prophesied the downfall of the Bourbon
dynasty. It was with difficulty that the political augurs would allow
that it might last as long as the life of Louis XVIII. He now sleeps
with his fathers; and his successor, generally beloved for his courteous
manners, and respected for his integrity and honour, reigns over a free
and flourishing people. Time, that grand pacificator, is daily abating
the rancour of party, and removing from the scene those of all sides,
who, unaccustomed to the general and impartial exercise of the laws,
were ready to improve every advantage, and debate every political
question, sword in hand, or, as they themselves express it, _par voie du
fait_. The guarantee for the permanence of their freedom, is the only
subject on which reasonable Frenchmen of the present day are anxious. We
trust there is no occasion for their solicitude. Fatal indeed would be
the advice which should induce the French Government to give the
slightest subject for just complaints. The ultra Royalist, the Jacobin
_enragé_, are gradually cooled by age, or fate has removed them from the
scene. Those who succeed, having never seen the sword drawn, will be
less apt to hurry into civil strife; and the able and well-intentioned
on either side, while they find room in the Chambers for expressing
their difference of opinion, will acquire the habit of enduring
contradiction with candour and good-humour, and be led to entertain the
wholesome doubt, whether, in the imperfect state of the human intellect,
it is possible for one class of statesmen to be absolutely and
uniformly right, and their opponents, in all instances, decidedly wrong.
The French will learn, that it is from freedom of debate--from an
appeal, not to the arms, but to the understandings of the people--by the
collision of intellect, not the strife of brutal violence, that the
political institutions of this ingenious people are in future to be
improved.
The aspirations of France after glory in the field had been indulged,
during the period of which we have treated, dreadfully for other
countries, and the requital to herself was sufficiently fearful. A
sentiment friendly to peace and good order has of late years
distinguished even those two nations, which, by a rash and wicked
expression, have been sometimes termed natural enemies. The enlarged
ideas of commerce, as they spread wider, and become better understood,
will afford, perhaps, the strongest and most irresistible motive for
amicable intercourse--that, namely, which arises from mutual advantage;
for commerce keeps pace with civilisation, and a nation, as it becomes
wealthy from its own industry, acquires more and more a taste for the
conveniences and luxuries, which are the produce of the soil, or of the
industry, of other countries. Britain, of whom all that was selfish was
expected and predicated by Napoleon and his friends--Britain, who was
said to meditate enchaining France by a commercial treaty (which would
have ruined her own manufactures,) has, by opening her ports to the
manufactures of her neighbour, had the honour to lead the way in a new
and more honourable species of traffic, which has in some degree the
property ascribed by the poet to Mercy--
"It blesseth him who gives, and him who takes."
To the eye of a stranger, the number of new buildings established in
Paris, and indeed throughout France, are indications of capital and
enterprise, of a nature much more satisfactory than the splendid but
half-finished public edifices which Napoleon so hastily undertook, and
so often left in an incomplete state. The general improvement of ideas
may be also distinctly remarked, on comparing the French people of 1815
and 1826, and observing the gradual extinction of long-cherished
prejudices and the no less gradual improvement and enlargement of ideas.
This state of advancement cannot, indeed, be regular--it must have its
ebbs and flows. But on the whole, there seems more reason than at any
former period of the world, for hoping that there will be a general
peace of some lengthened endurance; and that Britain and France, in
particular, will satisfy themselves with enjoying in recollection the
laurels each country has won in the field, and be contented to struggle
for the palm of national superiority by the arts of peaceful and
civilized industry.
FOOTNOTES:
[158] Hobhouse's Letters from Paris, written during the Last Reign of
Napoleon.--S.
[159] Moniteur, June 22; Montgaillard, tom. viii., p. 220.
[160] Montgaillard, tom. viii., p. 222.
[161] Fleury de Chamboullon, tom. ii., p. 296; Miss Williams' Narrative.
[162] Montgaillard, tom. viii., p. 223; Fouché, tom. ii., p. 282; Las
Cases, tom. i., p. 10; Savary, tom. iv., p. 98.
[163] "We all manœuvred to extort his abdication. There was a multitude
of messages backwards and forwards, parleys, objections, replies--in a
word, evolutions of every description: ground was taken, abandoned, and
again retaken. At length, after a warm battle, Napoleon surrendered, in
full council, under the conviction that longer resistance was useless;
then turning to me, he said, with a sardonic smile, 'Write to those
gentlemen to make themselves easy; they shall be satisfied.' Lucien took
up the pen, and drew, under Napoleon's dictation, the act of
abdication."--FOUCHÉ, tom. ii., p. 283.
[164] Moniteur, June 23.
[165] Moniteur, June 23.
[166] Carnot, Fouché, Grenier, and Quinette, had all voted for the death
of Louis XVI.
[167] "I was present at the moment of abdication; and, when the question
of Napoleon's removal was agitated, I requested permission to
participate in his fate. Such had been till then the disinterestedness
and simplicity, some will say folly, of my conduct, that,
notwithstanding my daily intercourse as an officer of the household, and
member of his council, the Emperor scarcely knew me. 'Do you know
whither your offer may lead you?' said he, in his astonishment. 'I have
made no calculation about it,' I replied. He accepted me, and here I am
at St. Helena."--LAS CASES, tom. i., part i., p. 9.
[168] Dated Malmaison, June 25. See Fleury de Chamboullon, tom. ii., p.
294.
[169] Hobhouse's Letters from Paris, vol. ii.; Fleury de Chamboullon,
tom. ii., p. 298.
[170] "The secretary found himself equally incapable of putting his name
to such a communication. Was it sent or not?--this is a point which I
cannot decide."--LAS CASES, tom. i., part i., pp. 17-20.
[171] "Fouché knew that General Beker had a private pique against the
Emperor; and therefore did not doubt of finding in the former a man
disposed to vengeance; but he was grossly deceived in his expectations,
for Beker constantly showed a degree of respect and attachment to the
Emperor highly honourable to his character."--LAS CASES, tom. i., p. 17.
[172] Las Cases, tom. i., p. 20.
[173] Parl. Debates, vol. xxx., p. 373.
[174] "It is not to be understood as binding his Britannic Majesty to
prosecute the war with a view of imposing upon France any particular
government."--_Parl. Debates_, vol. xxx., p. 798.
[175] Memoirs, tom. ii., p. 292.