1814-1815.
Escape from Elba--His landing near Cannes--March on Paris.
About the middle of summer Napoleon was visited by his mother and his
sister the Princess Pauline. Both these ladies had very considerable
talents for political intrigue, and then natural faculties in this way
had not lain dormant or been injured by want of practice. In Pauline
this finesse was partially concealed by a languor and indecision of
manner and an occasional assumption of 'niaiserie'; or almost infantine
simplicity; but this only threw people the more off their guard, and made
her finesse the more sure in its operation. Pauline was handsome too,
uncommonly graceful, and had all that power of fascination which has been
attributed to the Bonaparte family. She could gain hearts with ease, and
those whom her charms enslaved were generally ready to devote themselves
absolutely to her brother. She went and came between Naples and Elba,
and kept her brother-in-law, Murat, in mind of the fact that the lion was
not yet dead nor so much as sleeping, but merely retiring the better to
spring forward on his quarry.
Having taken this resolution and chosen his time, Napoleon kept the
secret of his expedition until the last moment; and means were found to
privately make the requisite preparations. A portion of the soldiers was
embarked in a brig called the 'Inconstant' and the remainder in six small
craft. It was not till they were all on board that the troops first
conceived a suspicion of the Emperor's purpose: 1000 or 1200 men had
sailed to regain possession of an Empire containing a population of
30,000,000! He commenced his voyage on Sunday the 26th of February 1815,
and the next morning at ten o'clock was not out of sight of the island,
to the great annoyance of the few friends he had left behind. At this
time Colonel Sir Neil Campbell was absent on a tour to Leghorn, but being
informed by the French Consul and by Spanocchi, the Tuscan Governor of
the town, that Napoleon was about to sail for the Continent, he hastened
back, and gave chase to the little squadron in the Partridge sloop of
war, which was cruising in the neighbourhood, but, being delayed by
communicating with a French frigate, reached Antibes too late.
There were between 400 and 500 men on board the brig (the 'Inconstant')
in which Bonaparte embarked. On the passage they met with a French ship
of war, with which they spoke. The Guards were ordered to pull off their
caps and lie down on the deck or go below while the captain exchanged
some words with the commander of the frigate, whom he afterwards proposed
to pursue and capture. Bonaparte rejected the idea as absurd, and asked
why he should introduce this new episode into his plan.
As they stood over to the coast of France the Emperor was in the highest
spirits. The die was cast, and he seemed to be quite himself again. He
sat upon the deck and amused the officers collected round him with a
narrative of his campaigns, particularly those of Italy and Egypt. When
he had finished he observed the deck to be encumbered with several large
chests belonging to him. He asked the maitre d'hotel what they
contained. Upon being told they were filled with wine he ordered them to
be immediately broken open, saying, "We will divide the booty." The
Emperor superintended the distribution himself, and presented bottle by
bottle to his comrades, till tired of this occupation he called out to
Bertrand, "Grand Marshal, assist me, if you please. Let us help these
gentlemen. They will help us some day." It was with this species of
bonhomie that he captivated when he chose all around him. The following
day he was employed in various arrangements, and among others in
dictating to Colonel Raoul the proclamations to be issued on his landing
In one of these, after observing, "we must forget that we have given law
to the neighbouring nations," Napoleon stopped. "What have I said?"
Colonel Raoul read the passage. "Stop!" said Napoleon. "Omit the word
'neighbouring;' say simply 'to nations.'" It was thus his pride revealed
itself; and his ambition seemed to rekindle at the very recollections of
his former greatness.
Napoleon landed without any accident on the 1st of March at Cannes, a
small seaport in the Gulf of St. Juan, not far from Frejus, where he had
disembarked on his return from Egypt sixteen years before, and where he
had embarked the preceding year for Elba. A small party of the Guards
who presented themselves before the neighbouring garrison of Antibes were
made prisoners by General Corsin, the Governor of the place. Some one
hinted that it was not right to proceed till they had released their
comrades, but the Emperor observed that this was poorly to estimate the
magnitude of the undertaking; before them were 30,000,000 men uniting to
be set free! He, however, sent the Commissariat Officer to try what be
could do, calling out after him, "Take care you do not get yourself made
prisoner too!"
At nightfall the troops bivouacked on the beach. Just before a
postillion, in a splendid livery, had been brought to Napoleon. It
turned out that this man had formerly been a domestic of the Empress
Josephine, and was now in the service of the Prince of Monaco, who
himself had been equerry to the Empress. The postillion, after
expressing his great astonishment at finding the Emperor there, stated,
in answer to the questions that were put to him, that he had just come
from Paris; that all along the road, as far as Avignon, he had heard
nothing but regret for the Emperor's absence; that his name was
constantly echoed from mouth to mouth; and that, when once fairly through
Provence, he would find the whole population ready to rally round him.
The man added that his laced livery had frequently rendered him the
object of odium and insult on the road. This was the testimony of one of
the common class of society: it was very gratifying to the Emperor, as it
entirely corresponded with his expectations. The Prince of Monaco
himself, on being presented to the Emperor, was less explicit. Napoleon
refrained from questioning him on political matters. The conversation
therefore assumed a more lively character, and turned altogether on the
ladies of the former Imperial Court, concerning whom the Emperor was very
particular in his inquiries.
As soon as the moon had risen, which was about one or two in the morning
of the 2d, the bivouacs were broken up, and Napoleon gave orders for
proceeding to Grasse. There he expected to find a road which he had
planned during the Empire, but in this he was disappointed, the Bourbons
having given up all such expensive works through want of money.
Bonaparte was therefore obliged to pass through narrow defiles filled
with snow, and left behind him in the hands of the municipality his
carriage and two pieces of cannon, which had been brought ashore. This
was termed a capture in the bulletins of the day. The municipality of
Grasse was strongly in favour of the Royalist cause, but the sudden
appearance of the Emperor afforded but little time for hesitation, and
they came to tender their submission to him. Having passed through the
town be halted on a little height some way beyond it, where he
breakfasted. He was soon surrounded by the whole population of the
place; and he heard the same sentiments and the same prayers as before he
quitted France. A multitude of petitions had already been drawn up, and
were presented to him, just as though he had come from Paris and was
making a tour through the departments. One complained that his pension
had not been paid, another that his cross of the Legion of Honour had
been taken from him. Some of the more discontented secretly informed
Napoleon that the authorities of the town were very hostile to him, but
that the mass of the people were devoted to him, and only waited till his
back was turned to rid themselves of the miscreants. He replied, "Be not
too hasty. Let them have the mortification of seeing our triumph without
having anything to reproach us with." The Emperor advanced with all the
rapidity in his power. "Victory," he said, "depended on my speed. To me
France was in Grenoble. That place was a hundred miles distant, but I
and my companions reached it in five days; and with what weather and what
roads! I entered the city just as the Comte d'Artois, warned by the
telegraph, was quitting the Tuileries."
Napoleon himself was so perfectly convinced of the state of affairs that
he knew his success in no way depended on the force he might bring with
him. A 'piquet' of 'gens d'armes', he said, was all that was necessary.
Everything turned out as he foresaw. At first he owned he was not
without some degree of uncertainty and apprehension. As he advanced,
however, the whole population declared themselves enthusiastically in his
favour: but he saw no soldiers. It was not till he arrived between Mure
and Vizille, within five or six leagues from Grenoble, and on the fifth
day after his landing, that he met a battalion. The commanding officer
refused to hold even a parley. The Emperor, without hesitation, advanced
alone, and 100 grenadiers marched at some distance behind him, with their
arms reversed. The sight of Napoleon, his well-known costume, and his
gray military greatcoat, had a magical effect on the soldiers, and they
stood motionless. Napoleon went straight up to them and baring his
breast said, "Let him that has the heart kill his Emperor!" The soldiers
threw down their arms, their eyes moistened with tears, and cries of
"Vive l'Empereur!" resounded on every side. Napoleon ordered the
battalion to wheel round to the right, and all marched on together.
At a short distance from Grenoble Colonel Labedoyere, who had been sent
at the head of the 7th regiment to oppose his passage, came to join the
Emperor. The impulse thus given in a manner decided the question.
Labedoyere's superior officer in vain interfered to restrain his
enthusiasm and that of his men. The tri-coloured cockades, which had
been concealed in the hollow of a drum, were eagerly distributed by
Labedoyere among them, and they threw away the white cockade as a badge
of their nation's dishonour. The peasantry of Dauphiny, the cradle of
the Revolution, lined the roadside: they were transported and mad with
joy. The first battalion, which has just been alluded to, had shown some
signs of hesitation, but thousands of the country people crowded round
it, and by their shouts of "Vive l'Empereur!" endeavoured to urge the
troops to decision, while others who followed in Napoleon's rear
encouraged his little troop to advance by assuring them that they would
meet with success. Napoleon said he could have taken 2,000,000 of these
peasants with him to Paris, but that then he would have been called "the
King of the Jaequerie."
Napoleon issued two proclamations on the road. He at first regretted
that he had not had them printed before he left Elba; but this could not
have been done without some risk of betraying his secret designs. He
dictated them on board the vessel, where every man who could write was
employed in copying them. These copies soon became very scarce; many of
them were illegible; and it was of till he arrived at Gap, on the 5th of
March, that he found means to have them printed. They were from that
time circulated and read everywhere with the utmost avidity.
The address to the army was considered as being still more masterly and
eloquent, and it was certainly well suited to the taste of French
soldiers, who, as Bourrienne remarks, are wonderfully pleased with
grandiloquence, metaphor, and hyperbole, though they do not always
understand what they mean. Even a French author of some distinction
praises this address as something sublime. "The proclamation to the
army," says he, "is full of energy: it could not fail to make all
military imaginations vibrate. That prophetic phrase, 'The eagle, with
the national colours, will fly from church steeple to church steeple,
till it settles on the towers of Notre Dame,' was happy in the extreme."
These words certainly produced an immense effect on the French soldiery,
who everywhere shouted, "Vive l'Empereur!" "Vive le petit Caporal!"
"We will die for our old comrade!" with the most genuine enthusiasm.
It was some distance in advance of Grenoble that Labedoyere joined, but
he could not make quite sure of the garrison of that city, which was
commanded by General Marchand, a man resolved to be faithful to his
latest master. The shades of night had fallen when Bonaparte arrived in
front of the fortress of Grenoble, where he stood for some minutes in a
painful state of suspense and indecision.
It was on the 7th of March, at nightfall, that Bonaparte thus stood
before the walls of Grenoble. He found the gates closed, and the
commanding officer refused to open them. The garrison assembled on the
ramparts shouted "Vive l'Empereur!" and shook hands with Napoleon's
followers through the wickets, but they could not be prevailed on to do
more. It was necessary to force the gates, and this was done under the
mouths of ten pieces of artillery, loaded with grapeshot. In none of his
battles did Napoleon ever imagine himself to be in so much danger as at
the entrance into Grenoble. The soldiers seemed to turn upon him with
furious gestures: for a moment it might be supposed that they were going
to tear him to pieces. But these were the suppressed transports of love
and joy. The Emperor and his horse were both borne along by the
multitude, and he had scarcely time to breathe in the inn where he
alighted when an increased tumult was heard without; the inhabitants of
Grenoble came to offer him the broken gates of the city, since they could
not present him with the keys.
From Grenoble to Paris Napoleon found no further opposition. During the
four days of his stay at Lyons, where he had arrived on the 10th, there
were continually upwards of 20,000 people assembled before his windows;
whose acclamations were unceasing. It would never have been supposed
that the Emperor had even for a moment been absent from the, country.
He issued orders, signed decrees, reviewed the troops, as if nothing had
happened. The military corps, the public bodies, and all classes of
citizens, eagerly came forward to tender their homage and their services.
The Comte d'Artois, who had hastened to Lyons, as the Duc and Duchesse
d'Augouleme had done to Bourdeaux, like them in vain attempted to make a
stand. The Mounted National Guard (who were known Royalists) deserted
him at this crisis, and in his flight only one of them chose to follow
him. Bonaparte refused their services when offered to him, and with a
chivalrous feeling worthy of being recorded sent the decoration of the
Legion of Honour to the single volunteer who had thus shown his fidelity
by following the Duke.
As soon as the Emperor quitted Lyons he wrote to Ney, who with his army
was at Lons-le-Saulnier, to come and join him. Ney had set off from the
Court with a promise to bring Napoleon, "like a wild beast in a cage, to
Paris." Scott excuses Ney's heart at the expense of his head, and
fancies that the Marshal was rather carried away by circumstances, by
vanity, and by fickleness, than actuated by premeditated treachery, and
it is quite possible that these protestations were sincerely uttered when
Ney left Paris, but, infected by the ardour of his troops, he was unable
to resist a contagion so much in harmony with all his antecedents, and to
attack not only his leader in many a time of peril, but also the
sovereign who had forwarded his career through every grade of the army.
The facts of the cane were these:--
On the 11th of March Ney, being at Besancon, learned that Napoleon was at
Lyons. To those who doubted whether his troops would fight against their
old comrades he said, "They shall fight! I will take a musket from a
grenadier and begin the action myself! I will run my sword to the hilt
in the body of the first man who hesitates to fire." At the same time he
wrote to the Minister of War at Paris that he hoped to see a fortunate
close to this mad enterprise.
He then advanced to Lons-le-Saulnier, where, on the night between the
13th and 14th of March, not quite three days after his vehement
protestations of fidelity, he received, without hesitation, a letter from
Bonaparte, inviting him, by his old appellation of the "Bravest of the
Brave," to join his standard. With this invitation Ney complied, and
published an order of the day that declared the cause of the Bourbons,
which he had sworn to defend, lost for ever.
It is pleaded in extenuation of Ney's defection that both his officers
and men were beyond his control, and determined to join their old Master;
but in that case he might have given up his command, and retired in the
same honourable way that Marshals Macdonald and Marmont and several other
generals did. But even among his own officers Ney had an example set
him, for many of them, after remonstrating in vain, threw up their
commands. One of them broke his sword in two and threw the pieces at
Ney's feet, saying, "It is easier for a man of honour to break iron than
to break his word."
Napoleon, when at St. Helena, gave a very different reading to these
incidents. On this subject he was heard to say, "If I except Labedoyere,
who flew to me with enthusiasm and affection, and another individual,
who, of his own accord, rendered me important services, nearly all the
other generals whom I met on my route evinced hesitation and uncertainty;
they yielded only to the impulse about them, if indeed they did not
manifest a hostile feeling towards me. This was the case with Ney, with
Massena, St. Cyr, Soult, as well as with Macdonald and the Duke of
Belluno, so that if the Bourbons had reason to complain of the complete
desertion of the soldiers and the people, they had no right to reproach
the chiefs of the army with conspiring against them, who had shown
themselves mere children in politics, and would be looked upon as neither
emigrants nor patriots."
Between Lyons and Fontainebleau Napoleon often travelled several miles
ahead of his army with no other escort than a few Polish lancers. His
advanced guard now generally consisted of the troops (miscalled Royal)
who happened to be before him on the road whither they had been sent to
oppose him, and to whom couriers were sent forward to give notice of the
Emperor's approach, in order that they might be quite ready to join him
with the due military ceremonies. White flags and cockades everywhere
disappeared; the tri-colour resumed its pride of place. It was spring,
and true to its season the violet had reappeared! The joy of the
soldiers and the lower orders was almost frantic, but even among the
industrious poor there were not wanting many who regretted this
precipitate return to the old order of things--to conscription, war, and
bloodshed, while in the superior classes of society there was a pretty
general consternation. The vain, volatile soldiery, however, thought of
nothing but their Emperor, saw nothing before them but the restoration of
all their laurels, the humiliation of England, and the utter defeat of
the Russians, Prussians, and Austrians.
On the night between the 19th and 20th of March Napoleon reached
Fontainebleau, and again paused, as had formerly been his custom, with
short, quick steps through the antiquated but splendid galleries of that
old palace. What must have been his feelings on revisiting the chamber
in which, the year before, it is said he had attempted suicide!
Louis XVIII., left the Palace of the Tuileries at nearly the same hour
that Bonaparte entered that of Fontainebleau.
The most forlorn hope of the Bourbons was now in a considerable army
posted between Fontainebleau and Paris. Meanwhile the two armies
approached each other at Melun; that of the King was commanded by Marshal
Macdonald. On the 20th his troops were drawn up in three lines to
receive the invaders, who were said to be advancing from Fontainebleau.
There was a long pause of suspense, of a nature which seldom fails to
render men more accessible to strong and sudden emotions. The glades of
the forest, and the acclivity which leads to it, were in full view of the
Royal army, but presented the appearance of a deep solitude. All was
silence, except when the regimental bands of music, at the command of the
officers, who remained generally faithful, played the airs of "Vive Henri
Quatre," "O Richard," "La Belle Gabrielle," and other tunes connected
with the cause and family of the Bourbons. The sounds excited no
corresponding sentiments among the soldiers.
At length, about noon, a galloping of horse was heard. An open carriage
appeared, surrounded by a few hussars, and drawn by four horses. It came
on at full speed, and Napoleon, jumping from the vehicle, was in the
midst of the ranks which had been formed to oppose him. His escort threw
themselves from their horses, mingled with their ancient comrades, and
the effect of their exhortations was instantaneous on men whose minds
were already half made up to the purpose which they now accomplished.
There was a general shout of "Vive Napoleon!" The last army of the
Bourbons passed from their side, and no further obstruction existed
betwixt Napoleon and the capital, which he was once more--but for a brief
space--to inhabit as a sovereign.
Louis, accompanied only by a few household troops, had scarcely turned
his back on the capital of his ancestors when Lavalette hastened from a
place of concealment and seized on the Post-office in the name of
Napoleon. By this measure all the King's proclamations' were
intercepted, and the restoration of the Emperor was announced to all the
departments. General Excelmans, who had just renewed his oath to Louis,
pulled down with his own hands the white flag that was floating over the
Tuileries, and hoisted the three-coloured banner.
It was late in the evening of the 20th that Bonaparte entered Paris in an
open carriage, which was driven straight to the gilded gates of the
Tuileries. He received the acclamations of the military and of the lower
classes of the suburbs, but most of the respectable citizens looked on in
silent wonderment. It was quite evident then that he was recalled by a
party--a party, in truth, numerous and powerful, but not by the unanimous
voice of the nation. The enthusiasm of his immediate adherents, however,
made up for the silence and lukewarmness of others. They filled and
crammed the square of the Carrousel, and the courts and avenues of the
Tuileries; they pressed so closely upon him that he was obliged to cry
out, "My friends, you stifle me!" and his aides de camp were compelled to
carry him in their arms up the grand staircase, and thence into the royal
apartments. It was observed, however, that amongst these ardent friends
were many men who had been the first to desert him in 1814, and that
these individuals were the most enthusiastic in their demonstrations, the
loudest in their shouts!
And thus was Napoleon again at the Tuileries, where, even more than at
Fontainebleau, his mind was flooded by the deep and painful recollections
of the past! A few nights after his return thither he sent for M. Horan,
one of the physicians who had attended Josephine during her last illness.
"So, Monsieur Horan," said he, "you did not leave the Empress during her
malady?"--"No, Sire."
What was the cause of that malady?"--"Uneasiness of mind . . .grief."--
"You believe that?" (and Napoleon laid a strong emphasis on the word
believe, looking steadfastly in the doctor's face). He then asked, "Was
she long ill? Did she suffer much?"--"She was ill a week, Sire; her
Majesty suffered little bodily pain."--"Did she see that she was dying?
Did she show courage?"--"A sign her Majesty made when she could no longer
express herself leaves me no doubt that she felt her end approaching; she
seamed to contemplate it without fear."--" Well! . . well!" and then
Napoleon much affected drew close to M. Horan, and added, "You say that
she was in grief; from what did that arise?"--"From passing events, Sire;
from your Majesty's position last year."--" Ah! she used to speak of me
then?"--"Very often." Here Napoleon drew his hand across his eyes, which
seemed filled with tears. He then went on. "Good woman!--Excellent
Josephine! She loved me truly--she--did she not? . . . Ah! She was a
Frenchwoman!"--"Yes, Sire, she loved you, and she would have proved it
had it not been for dread of displeasing you: she had conceived an idea."
--"How? ... What would she have done?" She one day said that as Empress
of the French she would drive through Paris with eight horses to her
coach, and all her household in gala livery, to go and rejoin you at
Fontainebleau, and never quit you mare."--"She would have done it--she
was capable of doing it!"
Napoleon again betrayed deep emotion, on recovering from which he asked
the physician the most minute questions about the nature of Josephine's
disease, the friends and attendants who were around her at the hour of
her death, and the conduct of her two children, Eugene and Hortense.