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 case 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.

CHAPTER V.

1815.

Message from the Tuileries--My interview with the King--

My appointment to the office of Prefect of the Police--Council at

the Tuileries--Order for arrests--Fouches escape--Davoust

unmolested--Conversation with M. de Blacas--The intercepted letter,

and time lost--Evident understanding between Murat and Napoleon--

Plans laid at Elba--My departure from Paris--The post-master of

Fins--My arrival at Lille--Louis XVIII. detained an hour at the

gates--His majesty obliged to leave France--My departure for

Hamburg--The Duc de Berri at Brussels.

Those who opposed the execution of the treaty concluded with Napoleon at

the time of his abdication were guilty of a great error, for they

afforded him a fair pretext for leaving the island of Elba. The details

of that extraordinary enterprise are known to every one, and I shall not

repeat what has been told over and over again. For my own part, as soon

as I saw with what rapidity Bonaparte was marching upon Lyons, and the

enthusiasm with which he was received by the troops and the people, I

prepared to retire to Belgium, there to await the denouement of this new

drama.

Every preparation for my departure was completed on the evening of the

13th of March, and I was ready to depart, to avoid the persecutions of

which I expected I should be the object, when I received a message from

the Tuileries stating that the King desired to see me. I of course lost

no time in proceeding to the Palace, and went straight to M. Hue to

inquire of him why I had been sent for. He occupied the apartments in

which I passed the three most laborious and anxious years of my life.

M. Hue, perceiving that I felt a certain degree of uneasiness at being

summoned to the Tuileries at that hour of the night, hastened to inform

me that the King wished to appoint me Prefect of the Police. He

conducted me to the King's chamber, where his Majesty thus addressed me

kindly, but in an impressive manner, "M. de Bourrienne, can we rely upon

you? I expect much from your zeal and fidelity."--"Your Majesty,"

replied I, "shall have no reason to complain of my betraying your

confidence."--"Well, I re-establish the Prefecture of the Police, and I

appoint you Prefect. Do your best, M. de Bourrienne, in the discharge of

your duties; I count upon you."

By a singular coincidence, on the very day (the 13th of March) when I

received this appointment Napoleon, who was at Lyons, signed the decree

which excluded from the amnesty he had granted thirteen individuals,

among whose names mine was inscribed. This decree confirmed me in the

presentiments I had conceived as soon as I heard of the landing of

Bonaparte. On returning home from the Tuileries after receiving my

appointment a multitude of ideas crowded on my mind. At the first moment

I had been prompted only by the wish to serve the cause of the King, but

I was alarmed when I came to examine the extent of the responsibility I

had taken upon myself. However, I determined to meet with courage the

difficulties that presented themselves, and I must say that I had every

reason to be satisfied with the manner in which I was seconded by M.

Foudras, the Inspector-General of the Police.

Even now I am filled with astonishment when I think of the Council that

was held at the Tuileries on the evening of the 13th of March in M. de

Blacas' apartments. The ignorance of the members of that Council

respecting our situation, and their confidence in the useless measures

they had adopted against Napoleon, exceed all conception.

Will it be believed that those great statesmen, who had the control of

the telegraph, the post-office, the police and its agents, money-in

short, everything which constitutes power--asked me to give them

information respecting the advance of Bonaparte? What could I say to

them? I could only repeat the reports which were circulated on the

Exchange, and those which I had collected here and there during the last

twenty-four hours. I did not conceal that the danger was imminent, and

that all their precautions would be of no avail. The question then arose

as to what course should be adapted by the King. It was impossible that

the monarch could remain at the Capital, and yet, where was he to go?

One proposed that he should go to Bordeaux, another to La Vendee, and a

third to Normandy, and a fourth member of the Council was of opinion that

the King should be conducted to Melun. I conceived that if a battle

should take place anywhere it would probably be in the neighbourhood of

that town, but the councillor who made this last suggestion assured us

that the presence of the King in an open carriage and eight horses would

produce a wonderful effect on the minds of the troops. This project was

merely ridiculous; the others appeared to be dangerous and impracticable.

I declared to the Council that, considering the situation of things, it

was necessary to renounce all idea of resistance by force of arms; that

no soldier would fire a musket, and that it was madness to attempt to

take any other view of things. "Defection," said I, "is inevitable.

The soldiers are drinking in their barracks the money which you have been

giving them for some days past to purchase their fidelity. They say

Louis XVIII., is a very decent sort of man, but 'Vive le petit Caporal!'"

Immediately on the landing of Napoleon the King sent an extraordinary

courier to Marmont, who was at Chatillon whither he had gone to take a

last leave of his dying mother. I saw him one day after he had had an

interview with the King; I think it was on the 6th or 7th of March.

After some conversation on the landing of Napoleon, and the means of

preventing him from reaching Paris, Marmont said to me, "This is what I

dwelt most strongly upon in the interview I have just had with the King.

'Sire,' said I, 'I doubt not Bonaparte's intention of coming to Paris,

and the best way to prevent him doing so would be for your Majesty to

remain here. It is necessary to secure the Palace of the Tuileries

against a surprise, and to prepare it for resisting a siege, in which it

would be indispensable to use cannon. You must shut yourself up in your

palace, with the individuals of your household and the principal public

functionaries, while the Due d'Angoulome should go to Bordeaux, the Duc

de Berri to La Vendee, and Monsieur to, the Franche-Comte; but they must

set off in open day, and announce that they are going to collect

defenders for your Majesty.--[Monsieur, the brother of the King, the

Comte d'Artois later Charles X.]

". . . This is what I said to the King this morning, and I added that I

would answer for everything if my advice were followed. I am now going

to direct my aide de camp, Colonel Fabvier, to draw up the plan of

defence." I did not concur in Marmont's opinion. It is certainly

probable that had Louis XVIII. remained in his palace the numerous

defections which took place before the 20th of March would have been

checked and some persons would not have found so ready an excuse for

breaking their oaths of allegiance. There can be little doubt, too, but

Bonaparte would have reflected well before he attempted the siege of the

Tuileries.

--[Marmont (tome vii. p. 87) gives the full details of his scheme

for provisioning and garrisoning the Tuileries which the King was to

hold while his family spread themselves throughout the provinces.

The idea had nothing strange in it, for the same advice was given by

General Mathieu Dumas (Souvenirs, tome iii. p. 564), a man not

likely to suggest any rash schemes. Jaucourt, writing to

Talleyrand, obviously believed in the wisdom of the King's

remaining, as did the Czar; see Talleyrand's Correspondence, vol.

ii. pp. 94, 122, 129. Napoleon would certainly have been placed

in a strange difficulty, but a king capable of adopting such a

resolution would never have been required to consider it.]--

Marmont supported his opinion by observing that the admiration and

astonishment excited by the extraordinary enterprise of Napoleon and his

rapid march to Paris would be counterbalanced by the interest inspired by

a venerable monarch defying his bold rival and courageously defending his

throne. While I rendered full justice to the good intentions of the Duke

of Ragusa, yet I did not think that his advice could be adopted. I

opposed it as I opposed all the propositions that were made in the

Council relative to the different places to which the King should retire.

I myself suggested Lille as being the nearest, and as presenting the

greatest degree of safety, especially in the first instance.

It was after midnight when I left the Council of the Tuileries. The

discussion had terminated, and without coming to any precise resolution

it was agreed that the different opinions which had been expressed should

be submitted to Louis XVIII. in order that his Majesty might adopt that

which should appear to him the best. The King adopted my opinion, but it

was not acted upon until five days after.

My appointment to the Prefecture of the Police was, as will be seen, a

late thought of measure, almost as late indeed as Napoleon's proposition

to send me as his Minister Plenipotentiary to Switzerland. In now

accepting office I was well convinced of the inutility of any effort that

might be made to arrest the progress of the fast approaching and menacing

events. Being introduced into the King's cabinet his Majesty asked me

what I thought of the situation of affairs. "I think, Sire, that

Bonaparte will be here in five or six days."--"What, sir?"--"Yes,

Sire."--"But proper measures are taken, the necessary orders given, and

the Marshals are faithful to me."--"Sire, I suspect no man's fidelity;

but I can assure your Majesty that, as Bonaparte has landed, he will be

here within a week. I know him, and your Majesty cannot know him as well

as I do; but I can venture too assure your Majesty with the same

confidence that he will not be here six months hence. He will be hurried

into acts of folly which will ruin him."--"De Bourrienne, I hope the

best from events, but if misfortune again compel me to leave France, and

your second prediction be fulfilled, you may rely on me." During this

short conversation the King appeared perfectly tranquil and resigned.

The next day I again visited the Tuileries, whither I had at those

perilous times frequent occasion to repair. On that day I received a

list of twenty-five persons whom I was ordered to arrest. I took the

liberty to observe that such a proceeding was not only useless but likely

to produce a very injurious effect at that critical moment. The reasons

I urged had not all the effect I expected. However, some relaxation as

to twenty-three of the twenty-five was conceded, but it was insisted that

Fouche and Davoust should be arrested without delay. The King repeatedly

said, "I wish you to arrest Fouche."--"Sire, I beseech your Majesty to

consider the inutility of such a measure."--"I am resolved upon Fouches

arrest. But I am sure you will miss him, for Andre could not catch him."

My nocturnal installation as Prefect of the Police took place some time

after midnight. I had great repugnance to the arrest of Fouche, but the

order having been given, there was no alternative but to obey it. I

communicated the order to M. Foudras, who very coolly observed, "Since we

are to arrest him you need not be afraid, we shall have him fast

tomorrow."

The next day my agents repaired to the Duke of Otranto's hotel, in the

Rue d'Artois. On showing their warrant Fouche said, "What does this

mean? Your warrant is of no force; it is mere waste-paper. It purports

to come from the Prefect of the Police, but there is no such Prefect."

In my opinion Fouche was right, for my appointment, which took place

during the night, had not been legally announced. Be that as it may,

on his refusal to surrender, one of my agents applied to the staff of the

National Guard, requesting the support, in case of need, of an armed

force. General Dessolles repaired to the Tuileries to take the King's

orders on the subject. Meanwhile Fouche, who never lost his

self-possession, after talking to the police officers who remained with

him, pretended to step aside for some indispensable purpose, but the

door which he opened led into a dark passage through which he slipped,

leaving my unfortunate agents groping about in the obscurity. As for

himself, he speedily gained the Rue Taitbout, where he stepped into a

coach, and drove off. This is the whole history of the notable arrest

of Fouche.

As for Davoust, I felt my hands tied with respect to him. I do not mean

to affect generosity, for I acknowledge the enmity I bore him; but I did

not wish it to be supposed that I was acting towards him from a spirit of

personal vengeance. I therefore merely ordered him to be watched. The

other twenty-three were to me in this matter as if they had never

existed; and some of them, perhaps, will only learn in reading my Memoirs

what dangerous characters they were thought to be.

On the 15th of March, after the conversation which, as I have already

related, I had with Louis XVIII, I went to M. de Blacas and repeated to

him what I had stated to the King on the certainty of Bonaparte's speedy

arrival in Paris. I told him that I found it necessary to devote the

short time still in our power to prevent a reaction against the

Royalists, and to preserve public tranquillity until the departure of the

Royal family, and that I would protect the departure of all persons who

had reasons for withdrawing themselves from the scene of the great and

perhaps disastrous events that might ensue. "You may readily believe,

Count," added I, "that considering the great interests with which I am

entrusted, I am not inclined to lose valuable time in arresting the

persons of whose names I have received a list. The execution of such a

measure would be useless; it would lead to nothing, or rather it would

serve to irritate public feeling. My conviction of this fact has

banished from me all idea of keeping under restraint for four or five

days persons whose influence, whether real or supposed, is nil, since

Bonaparte is at Auxerre. Mere supervision appears to me sufficient, and

to that I propose confining myself."--"The King," replied M. de Blacas,

"relies on you. He knows that though only forty-eight hours have elapsed

since you entered upon your functions, you have already rendered greater

services than you are perhaps aware of." I then asked M. de Blacas

whether he had not received any intimation of Bonaparte's intended

departure from the island of Elba by letters or by secret agents. "The

only positive information we received," answered the Minister, "was an

intercepted letter, dated Elba, 6th February. It was addressed to

M. -----, near Grenoble. I will show it you." M. de Blacas opened a

drawer of his writing-table and took out the letter, which he gave to me.

The writer thanked his correspondent for the information he had

transmitted to "the inhabitant of Elba." He was informed that everything

was ready for departure, and that the first favourable opportunity would

be seized, but that it would be desirable first to receive answers to

some questions contained in the letter. These questions related to the

regiments which had been sent into the south, and the places of their

cantonment. It was inquired whether the choice of the commanders was

conformable to what had been agreed on in Paris, and whether Labedoyere

was at his post. The letter was rather long and it impressed me by the

way in which the plan of a landing on the coast of Provence was

discussed. Precise answers were requested on all these points. On

returning the letter to M. de Blacas I remarked that the contents of the

letter called for the adoption of some decided measures, and I asked him

what had been done. He answered, "I immediately sent a copy of the

letter to M. d'Andre, that he might give orders for arresting the

individual to whom it was addressed."

Having had the opportunity of closely observing the machinery of a

vigilant and active Government, I was, I must confess, not a little

amazed at the insufficiency of the measures adopted to defeat this

well-planned conspiracy. When M. de Blacas informed me of all that had

been done, I could not repress an exclamation of surprise. "Well," said

he, "and what would you have done?"--"In the first place I would not

have lost twenty-four hours, which were an age in such a crisis." I

then explained the plan I would have adopted. A quarter of an hour

after the receipt of the letter I would have sent trustworthy men to

Grenoble, and above all things I would have taken care not to let the

matter fall into the hands of the police. Having obtained all

information from the correspondent at Grenoble, I would have made him

write a letter to his correspondent at Elba to quiet the eagerness of

Napoleon, telling him that the movement of troops he spoke of had not

been made, that it would take eight days to carry it out, and that it

was necessary to the success of the enterprise to delay the embarkation

for some days. While Bonaparte was thus delayed I would have sent to

the coast of Provence a sufficient body of men devoted to the Royal

cause, sending off in another direction the regiments whose chiefs were

gained over by Napoleon, as the correspondence should reveal their

names. "You are perhaps right, sir," said M. de Blacas, "but what could

I do? I am new here. I had not the control of the police, and I

trusted to M. d'Andre."--"Well," said I, "Bonaparte will be here on the

20th of March." With these words I parted from M. de Blacas. I

remarked a great change in him. He had already lost a vast deal of that

hauteur of favouritism which made him so much disliked.

When I entered upon my duties in the Prefecture of Police the evil was

already past remedy. The incorrigible emigres required another lesson,

and the temporary resurrection of the Empire was inevitable. But, if

Bonaparte was recalled, it was not owing to any attachment to him

personally; it was not from any fidelity to the recollections of the

Empire. It was resolved at any price to get rid of those imbecile

councillors, who thought they might treat France like a country conquered

by the emigrants. The people determined to free themselves from a

Government which seemed resolved to trample on all that was dear to

France. In this state of things some looked upon Bonaparte as a

liberator, but the greater number regarded him as an instrument. In this

last character he was viewed by the old Republicans, and by a new

generation, who thought they caught a glimpse of liberty in promises, and

Who were blind enough to believe that the idol of France would be

restored by Napoleon.

In February 1815, while everything was preparing at Elba for the

approaching departure of Napoleon, Murat applied to the Court of Vienna

for leave to march through the Austrian Provinces of Upper Italy an army

directed on France. It was on the 26th of the same month that Bonaparte

escaped from Elba. These two facts were necessarily connected together,

for, in spite of Murat's extravagant ideas, he never could have

entertained the expectation of obliging the King of France, by the mere

force of arms, to acknowledge his continued possession of the throne of

Naples. Since the return of Louis XVIII. the Cabinet of the Tuileries

had never regarded Murat in any other light than as a usurper, and I know

from good authority that the French Plenipotentiaries at the Congress of

Vienna were especially instructed to insist that the restoration of the

throne of Naples in favour of the Bourbons of the Two Sicilies should be

a consequence of the restoration of the throne of France. I also know

that the proposition was firmly opposed on the part of Austria, who had

always viewed with jealousy the occupation of three thrones of Europe by

the single House of Bourbon.

According to information, for the authenticity of which I can vouch, the

following were the plans which Napoleon conceived at Elba. Almost

immediately after his arrival in France he was to order the Marshals on

whom he could best rely to defend to the utmost the entrances to the

French territory and the approaches to Paris, by pivoting on the triple

line of fortresses which gird the north and east of France. Davoust was

'in petto' singled out for the defence of Paris. He, was to arm the

inhabitants of the suburbs, and to have, besides, 20,000 men of the

National Guard at his disposal. Napoleon, not being aware of the

situation of the Allies, never supposed that they could concentrate their

forces and march against him so speedily as they did. He hoped to take

them by surprise, and defeat their projects, by making Murat march upon

Milan, and by stirring up insurrections in Italy. The Po being once

crossed, and Murat approaching the capital of Lombardy, Napoleon with the

corps of Suchet, Brune, Grouchy, and Massena, augmented by troops sent,

by forced marches, to Lyons, was to cross the Alps and revolutionise

Piedmont. There, having recruited his army and joined the Neapolitans in

Milan, he was to proclaim the independence of Italy, unite the whole

country under a single chief, and then march at the head of 100,000 men

on Vienna, by the Julian Alps, across which victory had conducted him in

1797. This was not all: numerous emissaries scattered through Poland and

Hungary were to foment discord and raise the cry of liberty and

independence, to alarm Russia and Austria. It must be confessed it would

have been an extraordinary spectacle to see Napoleon giving liberty to

Europe in revenge for not having succeeded in enslaving her.

By means of these bold manoeuvres and vast combinations Napoleon

calculated that he would have the advantage of the initiative in military

operations. Perhaps his genius was never more fully developed than in

this vast conception. According to this plan he was to extend his

operations over a line of 500 leagues, from Ostend to Vienna, by the Alps

and Italy, to provide himself with immense resources of every kind, to

prevent the Emperor of Austria from marching his troops against France,

and probably force him to terminate a war from which the hereditary

provinces would have exclusively suffered. Such was the bright prospect

which presented itself to Napoleon when he stepped on board the vessel

which was to convey him from Elba to France. But the mad precipitation

of Murat put Europe on the alert, and the brilliant illusion vanished

like a dream.

After being assured that all was tranquil, and that the Royal family was

secure against every danger, I myself set out at four o'clock on the

morning of the 20th of March, taking the road to Lille.--Nothing

extraordinary occurred until I arrived at the post-office of Fins, in

front of which were drawn up a great number of carriages, which had

arrived before mine, and the owners of which, like myself, were

impatiently waiting for horses. I soon observed that some one called the

postmaster aside in a way which did not appear entirely devoid of

mystery, and I acknowledge I felt some degree of alarm. I was in the

room in which the travellers were waiting, and my attention was attracted

by a large bill fixed against the wall. It was printed in French and

Russian, and it proved to be the order of the day which I had been

fortunate enough to obtain from the Emperor Alexander to exempt

posthorses, etc., from the requisitions of the Allied troops.

I was standing looking at the bill when the postmaster came into the room

and advanced towards me. "Sir," said he, "that is an order of the day

which saved me from ruin."--"Then surely you would not harm the man by

whom it is signed?"--"I know you, sir, I recognised you immediately.

I saw you in Paris when you were Director of the Post-office, and you

granted a just claim which I had upon you. I have now come to tell you

that they are harnessing two horses to your calash, and you may set off

at full speed." The worthy man had assigned to my use the only two

horses at his disposal; his son performed the office of postilion, and I

set off to the no small dissatisfaction of some of the travellers who had

arrived before me, and who, perhaps, had as good reasons as I to avoid

the presence of Napoleon.

We arrived at Lille at eleven o'clock on the night of the 21st. Here I

encountered another vexation, though not of an alarming kind. The gates

of the town were closed, and I was obliged to content myself with a

miserable night's lodging in the suburb.

I entered Lille on the 22d, and Louis XVIII. arrived on the 23d. His

Majesty also found the gates closed, and more than an hour elapsed before

an order could be obtained for opening them, for the Duke of Orleans, who

commanded the town, was inspecting the troops when his Majesty arrived.

The King was perfectly well received at Lille. There indeed appeared

some symptoms of defection, but it must be acknowledged that the officers

of the old army had been so singularly sacrificed to the promotion of the

returned emigrants that it was very natural the former should hail the

return of the man who had so often led them to victory. I put up at the

Hotel de Grand, certainly without forming any prognostic respecting the

future residence of the King. When I saw his Majesty's retinue I went

down and stood at the door of the hotel, where as soon as Louis XVIII.

perceived me he distinguished me from among all the persons who were

awaiting his arrival, and holding out his hand for me to kiss he said,

"Follow me, M. de Bourrienne."

On entering the apartments prepared for him the King expressed to me his

approval of my conduct since the Restoration, and especially during the

short interval in which I had discharged the functions of Prefect of the

Police. He did me the honour to invite me to breakfast with him. The

conversation naturally turned on the events of the day, of which every

one present spoke according to his hopes or fears. Observing that Louis

XVIII. concurred in Berthier's discouraging view of affairs, I ventured

to repeat what I had already said at the Tuileries, that, judging from

the disposition of the sovereigns of Europe and the information which I

had received, it appeared very probable that his Majesty would be again

seated on his throne in three months. Berthier bit his nails as he did

when he wanted to leave the army of Egypt and return to Paris to the

object of his adoration. Berthier was not hopeful; he was always one of

those men who have the least confidence and the most depression. I could

perceive that the King regarded my observation as one of those

compliments which he was accustomed to receive, and that he had no great

confidence in the fulfilment of my prediction. However, wishing to seem

to believe it, he said, what he had more than hinted before, "M. de

Bourrienne, as long as I am King you shall be my Prefect of the Police."

It was the decided intention of Louis XVIII. to remain in France as long

as he could, but the Napoleonic fever, which spread like an epidemic

among the troops, had infected the garrison of Lille. Marshal Mortier,

who commanded at Lille, and the Duke of Orleans, expressed to me their

well-founded fears, and repeatedly recommended me to urge the King to

quit Lille speedily, in order to avoid any fatal occurrence. During the

two days I passed with his Majesty I entreated him to yield to the

imperious circumstances in which he was placed. At length the King, with

deep regret, consented to go, and I left Lille the day before that fixed

for his Majesty's departure.

In September 1814 the King had appointed me charge d'affaires from France

to Hamburg, but not having received orders to repair to my post I have

not hitherto mentioned this nomination. However, when Louis XVIII. was

on the point of leaving France he thought that my presence in Hamburg

might be useful for the purpose of making him acquainted with all that

might interest him in the north of Germany. But it was not there that

danger was to be apprehended. There were two points to be watched--the

headquarters of Napoleon and the King's Council at Ghent. I, however,

lost no time in repairing to a city where I was sure of finding a great

many friends. On passing through Brussels I alighted at the Hotel de

Bellevue, where the Duc de Berri arrived shortly after me. His Royal

Highness then invited me to breakfast with him, and conversed with me

very confidentially. I afterwards continued my journey.

CHAPTER VI.

1815.

Message to Madame de Bourrienne on the 20th of March--Napoleon's

nocturnal entrance into Paris--General Becton sent to my family by

Caulaincourt--Recollection of old persecutions--General Driesen--

Solution of an enigma--Seals placed on my effects--Useless searches

--Persecution of women--Madame de Stael and Madame de Recamier--

Paris during the Hundred Days--The federates and patriotic songs--

Declaration of the Plenipotentiaries at Vienna.

At Lille, and again at Hamburg, I received letters from my family, which

I had looked for with great impatience. They contained particulars of

what had occurred relative to me since Bonaparte's return to Paris.

Two hours after my departure Madame de Bourrienne also left Paris,

accompanied by her children, and proceeded to an asylum which had been

offered her seven leagues from the capital. She left at my house in

Paris her sister, two of her brothers, and her friend the Comtesse de

Neuilly, who had resided with us since her return from the emigration.

On the very morning of my wife's departure (namely, the 20th of March) a

person, with whom I had always been on terms of friendship, and who was

entirely devoted to Bonaparte, sent to request that Madame de Bourrienne

would call on him, as he wished to speak to her on most important and

urgent business. My sister-in-law informed the messenger that my wife

had left Paris, but, begging a friend to accompany her, she went herself

to the individual, whose name will be probably guessed, though I do not

mention it. The person who came with the message to my house put many

questions to Madame de Bourrienne's sister respecting my absence, and

advised her, above all things, to conjure me not to follow the King,

observing that the cause of Louis XVIII. was utterly lost, and that I

should do well to retire quietly to Burgundy, as there was no doubt of my

obtaining the Emperor's pardon.

Nothing could be more gloomy than Bonaparte's entrance into Paris. He

arrived at night in the midst of a thick fog. The streets were almost

deserted, and a vague feeling of terror prevailed almost generally in the

capital.

At nine o'clock on the same evening, the very hour of Bonaparte's arrival

at the Tuileries, a lady, a friend, of my family, and whose son served in

the Young Guard, called and requested to see Madame de Bourrienne. She

refused to enter the house lest she should be seen, and my sister-in-law

went down to the garden to speak to her without a light. This lady's

brother had been on the preceding night to Fontainebleau to see

Bonaparte, and he had directed his sister to desire me to remain in

Paris, and to retain my post in the Prefecture of the Police, as I was

sure of a full and complete pardon.

On the morning of the 21st General Becton, who has since been the victim

of his mad enterprises, called at my house and requested to speak with me

and Madame de Bourrienne. He was received by my wife's sister and

brothers, and stated that he came from M. de Caulaincourt to renew the

assurances of safety which had already been given to me. I was, I

confess, very sensible of these proofs of friendship when they came to my

knowledge, but I did not for a single moment repent the course I adopted.

I could not forget the intrigues of which I had been the object since

1811, nor the continual threats of arrest which, during that year, had

not left me a moment's quiet; and since I now revert to that time, I may

take the opportunity of explaining how in 1814 I was made acquainted with

the real causes of the persecution to which I had been a prey. A person,

whose name prudence forbids me mentioning, communicated to me the

following letter, the original copy of which is in my possession:

MONSIEUR LE DUC DE BASSANO--I send you some very important documents

respecting the Sieur Bourrienne, and beg you will make me a

confidential report on this affair. Keep these documents for

yourself alone. This business demands the utmost secrecy.

Everything induces me to believe that Bourrienne has carried a

series of intrigues with London. Bring me the report on Thursday.

I pray God, etc.

(Signed) NAPOLEON

PARIS, 25th December 1811.

I could now clearly perceive what to me had hitherto been enveloped in

obscurity; but I was not, as yet, made acquainted with the documents

mentioned in Napoleon's epistle. Still, however, the cause of his

animosity was an enigma which I was unable to guess, but I obtained its

solution some time afterwards.

General Driesen, who was the Governor of Mittau while Louis XVIII.

resided in that town, came to Paris in 1814. I had been well acquainted

with him in 1810 at Hamburg, where he lived for a considerable time.

While at Mittau he conceived a chivalrous and enthusiastic friendship for

the King of France. We were at first distrustful of each other, but

afterwards the most intimate confidence arose between us. General

Driesen looked forward with certainty to the return of the Bourbons to

France, and in the course of our frequent conversations on his favourite

theme he gradually threw off all reserve, and at length disclosed to me

that he was maintaining a correspondence with the King.

He told me that he had sent to Hartwell several drafts of proclamations,

with none of which, he said, the King was satisfied. On allowing me the

copy of the last of these drafts I frankly told him that I was quite of

the King's opinion as to its unfitness. I observed that if the King

should one day return to France and act as the general advised he would

not keep possession of his throne six months. Driesen then requested me

to dictate a draft of a proclamation conformably with my ideas. This I

consented to do on one condition, viz. that he would never mention my

name in connection with the business, either in writing or conversation.

General Driesen promised this, and then I dictated to him a draft which I

would now candidly lay before the reader if I had a copy of it. I may

add that in the different proclamations of Louis XVIII. I remarked

several passages precisely corresponding with the draft I had dictated at

Hamburg.

During the four years which intervened between my return to Paris and the

downfall of the Empire it several times occurred to me that General

Driesen had betrayed my secret, and on his very first visit to me after

the Restoration, our conversation happening to turn on Hamburg, I asked

him whether he had not disclosed what I wished him to conceal? "Well,"

said he, "there is no harm in telling the truth now. After you had left

Hamburg the King wrote to me inquiring the name of the author of the last

draft I had sent him, which was very different from all that had preceded

it. I did not answer this question, but the King having repeated it in a

second letter, and having demanded an answer, I was compelled to break my

promise to you, and I put into the post-office of Gothenberg in Sweden a

letter for the King, in which I mentioned your name."

The mystery was now revealed to me. I clearly saw what had excited in

Napoleon's mind the suspicion that I was carrying on intrigues with

England. I have no doubt as to the way in which the affair came to his

knowledge. The King must have disclosed my name to one of those persons

whose situations placed them above the suspicion of any betrayal of

confidence, and thus the circumstance must have reached the ear of

Bonaparte. This is not a mere hypothesis, for I well know how promptly

and faithfully Napoleon was informed of all that was said and done at

Hartwell.

Having shown General Drieaen Napoleon's accusatory letter, he begged that

I would entrust him with it for a day or two, saying he would show it to

the King at a private audience. His object was to serve me, and to

excite Louis XVIII.'s interest in my behalf, by briefly relating to him

the whole affair. The general came to me on leaving the Tuileries, and

assured me that the King after perusing the letter, had the great

kindness to observe that I might think myself very happy in not having

been shot. I know not whether Napoleon was afterwards informed of the

details of this affair, which certainly had no connection with any

intrigues with England, and which, after all, would have been a mere

peccadillo in comparison, with the conduct I thought it my duty to adopt

at the time of the Restoration.

Meanwhile Madame de Bourrienne informed me by an express that seals were

to be placed on the effects of all the persons included in the decree of

Lyons, and consequently upon mine. As soon as my wife received

information of this she quitted her retreat and repaired to Paris to face

the storm. On the 29th of March, at nine in the evening, the police

agents presented themselves at my house. Madame de Bourrienne

remonstrated against the measure and the inconvenient hour that was

chosen for its execution; but all was in vain, and there was no

alternative but to submit.

But the matter did not end with the first formalities performed by

Fouche's alguazils. During the month of May seven persons were appointed

to examine, my papers, and among the inquisitorial septemvirate were two

men well known and filling high situations. One of these executed his

commission, but the other, sensible of the odium attached to it, wrote to

say he was unwell, and never came. The number of my inquisitors, 'in

domo', was thus reduced to six. They behaved with great rudeness, and

executed their mission with a rigour and severity exceedingly painful to

my family. They carried their search so far as to rummage the pockets of

my old clothes, and even to unrip the linings. All this was done in the

hope of finding something that would commit me in the eyes of the new

master of France. But I was not to be caught in that way, and before

leaving home I had taken such precautions as to set my mind perfectly at

ease.

However, those who had declared themselves strongly against Napoleon were

not the only persons who had reason to be alarmed at his return. Women

even, by a system of inquisition unworthy of the Emperor, but

unfortunately quite in unison with his hatred of all liberty, were

condemned to exile, and had cause to apprehend further severity. It is

for the exclusive admirers of the Chief of the Empire to approve of

everything which proceeded from him, even his rigour against a

defenceless sex; it is for them to laugh at the misery of a woman, and a

writer of genius, condemned without any form of trial to the most severe

punishment short of death. For my part, I saw neither justice nor

pleasantry in the exile of Madame de Chevreuse for having had the courage

(and courage was not common then even among men) to say that she was not

made to be the gaoler of the Queen of Spain. On Napoleon's return from.

the isle of Elba, Madame de Stael was in a state of weakness, which

rendered her unable to bear any sudden and violent emotion. This

debilitated state of health had been produced by her flight from Coppet

to Russia immediately after the birth of the son who was the fruit of her

marriage with M. Rocca. In spite of the danger of a journey in such

circumstances she saw greater danger in staying where she was, and she

set out on her new exile. That exile was not of long duration, but

Madame de Stael never recovered from the effect of the alarm and fatigue

it occasioned her.

The name of the authoress of Corinne, naturally calls to mind that of the

friend who was most faithful to her in misfortune, and who was not

herself screened from the severity of Napoleon by the just and universal

admiration of which she was the object. In 1815 Madame Recamier did not

leave Paris, to which she had returned in 1814, though her exile was not

revoked. I know positively that Hortense assured her of the pleasure she

would feel in receiving her, and that Madame Recamier, as an excuse for

declining the perilous honour, observed that she had determined never

again to appear in the world as long as her friends should be persecuted.

The memorial de Sainte Helene, referring to the origin of the ill-will of

the Chief of the Empire towards the society of Madame de Stael and Madame

Recamier, etc., seems to reproach Madame Recamier, "accustomed," says the

Memorial, "to ask for everything and to obtain everything," for having

claimed nothing less than the complete reinstatement of her father.

Whatever may have been the pretensions of Madame Recamier, Bonaparte, not

a little addicted to the custom he complains of in her, could not have,

with a good grace, made a crime of her ingratitude if he on his side had

not claimed a very different sentiment from gratitude. I was with the

First Consul at the time M. Bernard, the father of Madame Reamier, was

accused, and I have not forgotten on what conditions the re-establishment

would have been granted.

The frequent interviews between Madame Recamier and Madame de Stael were

not calculated to bring Napoleon to sentiments and measures of

moderation. He became more and more irritated at this friendship between

two women formed for each other's society; and, on the occasion of one of

Madame Recamier's journeys to Coppet he informed her, through the medium

of Fouche, that she was perfectly at liberty to go to Switzerland, but

not to return to Paris. "Ah, Monseigneur! a great man may be pardoned

for the weakness of loving women, but not for fearing them." This was

the only reply of Madame Recamier to Fouche when she set out for Coppet.

I may here observe that the personal prejudices of the Emperor would not

have been of a persevering and violent character if some of the people

who surrounded him had not sought to foment them. I myself fell a victim

to this. Napoleon's affection for me would perhaps have got the upper

hand if his relenting towards me had not been incessantly combated by my

enemies around him.

I had no opportunity of observing the aspect of Paris during that

memorable period recorded in history by the name of the Hundred Days,

but the letters which I received at the time, together with all that,

I afterwards heard, concurred in assuring me that the capital never

presented so melancholy a picture as: during those three months. No one

felt any confidence in Napoleon's second reign, and it was said, without

any sort of reserve, that Fouche, while serving the cause of usurpation,

would secretly betray it. The future was viewed with alarm, and the

present with dissatisfaction. The sight of the federates who paraded the

faubourgs and the boulevards, vociferating, "The Republic for ever!" and

"Death to the Royalists!" their sanguinary songs, the revolutionary airs

played in our theatres, all tended to produce a fearful torpor in the

public mind, and the issue of the impending events was anxiously awaited.

One of the circumstances which, at the commencement of the Hundred Days,

most contributed to open the eyes of those who were yet dazzled by the

past glory of Napoleon, was the assurance with which he declared that the

Empress and his son would be restored to him, though nothing warranted

that announcement. It was evident that he could not count on any ally;

and in spite of the prodigious activity with which a new army was raised

those persons must have been blind indeed who could imagine the

possibility of his triumphing over Europe, again armed to oppose him.

I deplored the inevitable disasters which Bonaparte's bold enterprise

would entail, but I had such certain information respecting the

intentions of the Allied powers, and the spirit which animated the

Plenipotentiaries at Vienna, that I could not for a moment doubt the

issue of the conflict: Thus I was not at all surprised when I received at

Hamburg the minutes of the conferences at Vienna in May 1815.

When the first intelligence of Bonaparte's landing was received at Vienna

it must be confessed that very little had been done at the Congress, for

measures calculated to reconstruct a solid and durable order of things

could only be framed and adopted deliberately, and upon mature

reflection. Louis XVIII. had instructed his Plenipotentiaries to defend

and support the principles of justice and the law of nations, so as to

secure the rights of all parties and avert the chances of a new war.

The Congress was occupied with these important objects when intelligence

was received of Napoleon's departure from Elba and his landing at the

Gulf of Juan. The Plenipotentiaries then signed the protocol of the

conferences to which I have above alluded.

[ANNEX TO THE PRECEDING CHAPTER.]

The following despatch of Napoleon's to Marshal Davoust (given in Captain

Bingham's Translation, vol. iii. p. 121), though not strictly bearing

upon the subject of the Duke of Bassano's inquiry (p. 256), may perhaps

find a place here, as indicative of the private feeling of the Emperor

towards Bourrienne. As the reader will remember, it has already been

alluded to earlier in the work:

To MARSHAL DAVOUST.

COMPIEGNE, 3d September 1811.

I have received your letter concerning the cheating of Bourrienne at

Hamburg. It will be important to throw light upon what he has done.

Have the Jew, Gumprecht Mares, arrested, seize his papers, and place him

in solitary confinement. Have some of the other principal agents of

Bourrienne arrested, so as to discover his doings at Hamburg, and the

embezzlements he has committed there.

(Signed) NAPOLEON.

CHAPTER VII.

--[By the Editor of the 1836 edition]--

1815.

Napoleon at Paris--Political manoeuvres--The meeting of the

Champ-de-Mai--Napoleon, the Liberals, and the moderate

Constitutionalists--His love of arbitrary power as strong as ever--

Paris during the Cent Jours--Preparations for his last campaign--

The Emperor leaves Paris to join the army--State of Brussels--

Proclamation of Napoleon to the Belgians--Effective strength of the

French and Allied armies--The Emperor's proclamation to the French

army.

Napoleon was scarcely reseated on his throne when he found he could not

resume that absolute power he had possessed before his abdication at

Fontainebleau. He was obliged to submit to the curb of a representative

government, but we may well believe that he only yielded, with a mental

reservation that as soon as victory should return to his standards and

his army be reorganised he would send the representatives of the people

back to their departments, and make himself as absolute as he had ever

been. His temporary submission was indeed obligatory.

The Republicans and Constitutionalists who had assisted, or not opposed

his return, with Carnot, Fouche, Benjamin Constant, and his own brother

Lucien (a lover of constitutional liberty) at their head, would support

him only on condition of his reigning as a constitutional sovereign; he

therefore proclaimed a constitution under the title of "Acte additionnel

aux Constitutions de l'Empire," which greatly resembled the charter

granted by Louis XVIII. the year before. An hereditary Chamber of Peers

was to be appointed by the Emperor, a Chamber of Representatives chosen

by the Electoral Colleges, to be renewed every five years, by which all

taxes were to be voted, ministers were to be responsible, judges

irremovable, the right of petition was acknowledged, and property was

declared inviolable. Lastly, the French nation was made to declare that

they would never recall the Bourbons.

Even before reaching Paris, and while resting on his journey from Elba at

Lyons, the second city in France, and the ancient capital of the Franks,

Napoleon arranged his ministry, and issued sundry decrees, which show how

little his mind was prepared for proceeding according to the majority of

votes in representative assemblies.

Cambaceres was named Minister of Justice, Fouche Minister of Police (a

boon to the Revolutionists), Davoust appointed Minister of War. Decrees

upon decrees were issued with a rapidity which showed how laboriously

Bonaparte had employed those studious hours at Elba which he was supposed

to have dedicated to the composition of his Memoirs. They were couched

in the name of "Napoleon, by the grace of God, Emperor of France," and

were dated on the 13th of March, although not promulgated until the 21st

of that month. The first of these decrees abrogated all changes in the

courts of justice and tribunals which had taken place during the absence

of Napoleon. The second banished anew all emigrants who had returned to

France before 1814 without proper authority, and displaced all officers

belonging to the class of emigrants introduced into the army by the King.

The third suppressed the Order of St. Louis, the white flag, cockade, and

other Royal emblems, and restored the tri-coloured banner and the

Imperial symbols of Bonaparte's authority. The same decree abolished the

Swiss Guard and the Household troops of the King. The fourth sequestered

the effects of the Bourbons. A similar Ordinance sequestered the

restored property of emigrant families.

The fifth decree of Lyons suppressed the ancient nobility and feudal

titles, and formally confirmed proprietors of national domains in their

possessions. (This decree was very acceptable to the majority of

Frenchmen). The sixth declared sentence of exile against all emigrants

not erased by Napoleon from the list previously to the accession of the

Bourbons, to which was added confiscation of their property. The seventh

restored the Legion of Honour in every respect as it had existed under

the Emperor; uniting to its funds the confiscated revenues of the Bourbon

order of St. Louis. The eighth and last decree was the most important of

all. Under pretence that emigrants who had borne arms against France had

been introduced into the Chamber of Peers, and that the Chamber of

Deputies had already sat for the legal time, it dissolved both Chambers,

and convoked the Electoral Colleges of the Empire, in order that they

might hold, in the ensuing month of May, an extraordinary assembly--the

Champ-de-Mai.

This National Convocation, for which Napoleon claimed a precedent in the

history of the ancient Franks, was to have two objects: first, to make

such alterations and reforms in the Constitution of the Empire as

circumstances should render advisable; secondly, to assist at the

coronation of the Empress Maria Louisa. Her presence, and that of her

son, was spoken of as something that admitted of no doubt, though

Bonaparte knew there was little hope of their return from Vienna. These

various enactments were well calculated to serve Napoleon's cause. They

flattered the army, and at the same time stimulated their resentment

against the emigrants, by insinuating that they had been sacrificed by

Louis to the interest of his followers. They held out to the Republicans

a prospect of confiscation, proscription, and, revolution of government,

while, the Imperialists were gratified with a view of ample funds for

pensions, offices, and honorary decorations. To proprietors of the

national domains security was promised, to the Parisians the grand

spectacle of the Champ-de-Mai, and to. France peace and tranquillity,

since the arrival of the Empress and her son, confidently asserted to be

at hand, was taken as a pledge of the friendship of Austria.

Napoleon at the same time endeavoured to make himself popular with the

common people--the, mob of the Faubourg St. Antoine and other obscure

quarters of Paris. On the first evening of his return, as he walked

round the glittering circle met to welcome him, in the State apartments

of the Tuileries, he kept repeating, "Gentlemen, it is to the poor and

disinterested mass of the people that I owe everything; it is they who

have brought me back to the capita. It is the poor subaltern officers

and common soldiers that have done all this. I owe everything to the

common people and the ranks of the army. Remember that! I owe

everything to the army and the people!" Some time after he took

occasional rides through the Faubourg St. Antoine, but the demonstrations

of the mob gave him little pleasure, and, it was easy to detect a sneer

in his addresses to them. He had some slight intercourse with the men of

the Revolution--the fierce, bloodthirsty Jacobins--but even now he could

not conceal his abhorrence of them, and, be it said to his honour, he had

as little to do with them as possible.

When Napoleon, departed for the summer campaign he took care beforehand

to leave large sums of money for the 'federes'; in the hands of the

devoted Real; under whose management the mob was placed. These sums were

to be distributed at appropriate seasons, to make the people cry in the

streets of Paris, "Napoleon or death." He also left in the hands of

Davoust a written authority for the publication of his bulletins, many

clauses of which were written long before the battles were fought that

they were to describe. He gave to the same Marshal a plan of his

campaign, which he had arranged for the defensive. This was not confided

to him without an injunction of the strictest secrecy, but it is said

that Davoust communicated the plan to Fouche. Considering Davoust's

character this is very unlikely, but if so, it is far from improbable

that Fouche communicated the plan to the Allies with whom, and more

particularly with Prince Metternich, he is well known to have been

corresponding at the time.

Shortly after the Emperor's arrival in Paris Benjamin Constant, a

moderate and candid man, was deputed by the constitutional party to

ascertain Napoleon's sentiments and intentions. Constant was a lover of

constitutional liberty, and an old opponent of Napoleon, whose headlong

career of despotism, cut out by the sword, he had vainly endeavoured to

check by the eloquence of his pen.

The interview took place at the Tuileries. The Emperor, as was his wont,

began the conversation, and kept it nearly all to himself during the rest

of the audience. He did not affect to disguise either his past actions

or present dispositions.

"The nation," he said, "has had a respite of twelve years from every kind

of political agitation, and for one year has enjoyed a respite from war.

This double repose has created a craving after activity. It requires, or

fancies it requires, a Tribune and popular assemblies. It did not always

require them. The people threw themselves at my feet when I took the

reins of government You ought to recollect this, who made a trial of

opposition. Where was your support--your strength? Nowhere. I assumed

less authority than I was invited to assume. Now all is changed. A

feeble government, opposed to the national interests, has given to these

interests the habit of standing on the defensive and evading authority.

The taste for constitutions, for debates, for harangues, appears to have

revived. Nevertheless it is but the minority that wishes all this, be

assured. The people, or if you like the phrase better; the multitude,

wish only for me. You would say so if you had only seen this multitude

pressing eagerly on my steps, rushing down from the tops of the

mountains, calling on me, seeking me out, saluting me. On my way from

Cannes hither I have not conquered--I have administered. I am not only

(as has been pretended) the Emperor of the soldiers; I am that of the

peasants of the plebeians of France. Accordingly, in spite of all that

has happened, you see the people come back to me. There is sympathy

between us. It is not as with the privileged classes. The noblesse have

been in my service; they thronged in crowds into my antechambers. There

is no place that they have not accepted or solicited. I have had the

Montmorencys, the Noailles, the Rohans, the Beauveaus, the Montemarts,

in my train. But there never was any cordiality between us. The steed

made his curvets--he was well broken in, but I felt him quiver under me.

With the people it is another thing. The popular fibre responds to mine.

I have risen from the ranks of the people: my voice seta mechanically

upon them. Look at those conscripts, the sons of peasants: I never

flattered them; I treated them roughly. They did not crowd round me the

less; they did not on that account cease to cry, `Vive l'Empereur!'

It is that hetween them and me there is one and the same nature. They

look to me as their support, their safeguard against the nobles. I have

but to make a sign, or even to look another way, and the nobles would be

massacred in every province. So well have they managed matters in the

last ten months! but I do not desire to be the King of a mob. If there

are the means to govern by a constitution well and good. I wished for

the empire of the world, and to ensure it complete liberty of action was

necessary to me. To govern France merely it is possible that a

constitution may be better. I wished for the empire of the world, as who

would not have done in my place? The world invited me to rule over it.

Sovereigns and subjects alike emulously bowed the neck under my sceptre.

I have seldom met with opposition in France, but still I have encountered

more of it from some obscure and unarmed Frenchmen than from all these

Kings so resolute, just now, no longer to have a man of the people for

their equal! See then what appears to you possible; let me know your

ideas. Public discussion, free elections, responsible ministers, the

liberty of the press, I have no objection to all that, the liberty of the

press especially; to stifle it is absurd. I am convinced on this point.

I am the man of the people: if the people really wish for liberty let

them have it. I have acknowledged their sovereignty. It is just that I

should lend an ear to their will, nay, even to their caprices I have

never been disposed to oppress them for my pleasure. I conceived great

designs; but fate 'has been against me; I am no longer a conqueror, nor

can I be one. I know what is possible and what is not.--I have no

further object than to raise up France and bestow on her a government

suitable to her. I have no hatred to liberty, I have set it aside when

it obstructed my path, but I understand what it means; I was brought up

in its school: besides, the work of fifteen years is overturned, and it

is not possible to recommence it. It would take twenty years, and the

lives of 2,000,000 of men to be sacrificed to it. As for the rest, I

desire peace, but I can only obtain it by means of victory. I would not

inspire you with false expectations. I permit it to be said that

negotiations are going on; there are none. I foresee a hard struggle,

a long war. To support it I must be seconded by the nation, but in

return I believe they will expect liberty. They shall have it: the

circumstances are new. All I desire is to be informed of the truth.

I am getting old. A man is no longer at forty-five what he was at

thirty. The repose enjoyed by a constitutional king may suit me: it will

still more certainly be the best thing, for my son."

From this remarkable address. Benjamin Constant concluded that no

change had taken place in Bonaparte's views or feelings in matters of

government, but, being convinced that circumstances had changed, he had

made up his mind to conform to them. He says, and we cannot doubt it,

"that he listened to Napoleon with the deepest interest, that there was a

breadth and grandeur of manner as he spoke, and a calm serenity seated on

a brow covered with immortal laurels."

Whilst believing the utter incompatibility of Napoleon and constitutional

government we cannot in fairness omit mentioning that the causes which

repelled him from the altar and sanctuary of freedom were strong: the

real lovers of a rational and feasible liberty--the constitutional

monarchy men were few--the mad ultra-Liberals, the Jacobins, the refuse

of one revolution and the provokers of another, were numerous, active,

loud, and in pursuing different ends these two parties, the respectable

and the disreputable, the good and the bad, got mixed and confused with

one another.

On the 14th of May, when the 'federes' were marshalled in processional

order and treated with what was called a solemn festival, as they moved

along the boulevards to the Court of the Tuileries, they coupled the name

of Napoleon with Jacobin curses and revolutionary songs. The airs and

the words that had made Paris tremble to her very centre during the Reign

of Terror--the "Marseillaise," the "Carmagnole," the "Jour du depart,"

the execrable ditty, the burden of which is, "And with the entrails of

the last of the priests let us strangle the last of the kings," were all

roared out in fearful chorus by a drunken, filthy, and furious mob. Many

a day had elapsed since they had dared to sing these blasphemous and

antisocial songs in public. Napoleon himself as soon as he had power

enough suppressed them, and he was as proud of this feat and his triumph

over the dregs of the Jacobins as he was of any of his victories; and in

this he was right, in this he proved himself the friend of humanity. As

the tumultuous mass approached the triumphal arch and the grand entrance

to the Palace he could not conceal his abhorrence. His Guards were drawn

up under arms, and numerous pieces of artillery, already loaded were

turned out on the Place du Carrousel. He hastily dismissed these

dangerous partisans with some praise, some money, and some drink. On

coming into close contact with such a mob he did not feel his fibre

respond to that of the populace! Like Frankenstein, he loathed and was

afraid of the mighty monster he had put together.

But it was not merely the mob that checked the liberalism or constitution

of Napoleon, a delicate and doubtful plant in itself, that required the

most cautious treatment to make it really take root and grow up in such a

soil: Some of his councillors, who called themselves "philosophical

statesmen," advised him to lay aside the style of Emperor, and assume

that of High President or Lord General of the Republic! Annoyed with

such puerilities while the enemy was every day drawing nearer the

frontiers he withdrew from the Tuileries to the comparatively small and

retired palace of the Elysee, where he escaped these talking-dreamers,

and felt himself again a sovereign: Shut up with Benjamin Constant and a

few other reasonable politicians, he drew up the sketch of a new

constitution, which was neither much better nor much worse than the royal

charter of Louis XVIII. We give an epitome of its main features.

The Emperor was to have executive power, and to exercise legislative

power in concurrence with the two Chambers. The Chamber of Peers was to

be hereditary, and nominated by the Emperor, and its number was

unlimited. The Second Chamber was to be elected by the people, and to

consist of 629 members; none to be under the age of twenty-five. The

President was to be appointed by the members, but approved of by the

Emperor. Members were to be paid at the rate settled by the Constituent

Assembly, which was to be renewed every five years. The Emperor might

prorogue, adjourn, or dissolve the House of Representatives, whose

sittings were to be public. The Electoral Colleges were maintained.

Land tax and direct taxes were to be voted only for a year, indirect

taxes might be imposed for several years. No levy of men for the army

nor any exchange of territory was to be made but by a law. Taxes were to

be proposed by the Chamber of Representatives. Ministers to be

responsible. Judges to be irremovable. Juries to be established. Right

of petition, freedom of worship, inviolability of property, were

recognised. Liberty of the press was given under legal responsibility,

and press offences were to be judged with a jury. No place or part of

the territory could be placed in a state of siege except in case of

foreign invasion or civil troubles. Finally, the French people declared

that in the delegation it thus made of its powers it was not to be taken

as giving the right to propose the re-establishment of the Bourbons, or

of any Prince of that family on the throne, even in case of the

extinction of the imperial dynasty. Any such proposal was formally

interdicted to the Chambers or to the citizens, as well as any of the

following measures, viz. the re-establishment of the former, feudal

nobility, of the feudal and seignorial rights, of tithes, of any

privileged and dominant religion, as well as of the power of making any

attack on the irrevocability of the sale of the national goods.

Shortly after the return of Napoleon from Elba, believing it to be

impossible to make the Emperor of Austria consent to his wife's rejoining

him (and Maria Louisa had no inclination to a renewal of conjugal

intercourse), Napoleon had not been many days in Paris when he concocted

a plan for carrying off from Vienna both his wife and his son: In this

project force was no less necessary than stratagem. A number of French

of both sexes much devoted to the Emperor, who, had given them rank and

fortune, had accompanied Maria Louisa in 1814 from Paris to Blois and

thence to Vienna. A correspondence was opened with these persons, who

embarked heart and soul in the plot; they forged passports, procured

relays, of horses; and altogether arranged matters so well that but a for

a single individual--one who revealed the whole project a few days

previously to that fixed upon for carrying it into effect--there is

little room to doubt that the plan would have succeeded, and that the

daughter of Austria and the titular King of home would have given such,

prestige as their presence could give at the Tuileries and he

Champs-de-Mai. No sooner had the Emperor of Austria discovered this

plot, which, had it been successful, would have placed him in a very

awkward predicament, than he dismissed all the French people about his

daughter, compelled her to lay aside the armorial bearings and liveries

of Napoleon, and even to relinquish the title of Empress of the French:

No force, no art, no police could conceal these things from the people

of Paris; who, moreover, and at nearly the same time; were made very

uneasy by the failure of Murat's attempt in Italy, which greatly

increased the power and political influence of Austria. Murat being

disposed of, the Emperor Francis was enabled to concentrate all his

forces in Italy, and to hold them in readiness for the re-invasion of

France.

"Napoleon," says Lavallette, "had undoubtedly expected that the Empress

and his son would be restored to him; he had published his wishes as a

certainty, and to prevent it was, in fact, the worst injury the Emperor

of Austria could have done, him. His hope was, however, soon destroyed.

"One evening I was summoned to the palace. I found the Emperor in a

dimly-lighted closet, warming himself in a corner of the fireplace, and

appearing to suffer already from the complaint which never afterwards

left him. 'Here is a letter,' he said, 'which the courier from Vienna

says is meant for you--read it.' On first casting my eyes on the letter

I thought I knew the handwriting, but as it was long I read it slowly,

and came at last to the principal object. The writer said that we ought

not to reckon upon the Empress, as she did not even attempt to conceal

her dislike of the Emperor, and was disposed to approve all the measures

that could be taken against him; that her return was not to be thought

of, as she herself would raise the greatest obstacles in the way of it;

in case it should be proposed; finally, that it was not possible for him

to dissemble his indignation that the Empress, wholly enamoured of ----,

did not even take pains to hide her ridiculous partiality for him. The

handwriting of the letter was disguised, yet not so much but that I was

able to discover whose it was. I found; however, in the manner in which

the secret was expressed a warmth of zeal and a picturesque style that

did not belong to the author of the letter. While reading it, I all of a

sudden suspected it was a counterfeit, and intended to mislead the

Emperor. I communicated ms idea to him, and the danger I perceived in

this fraud. As I grew more and more animated I found plausible reasons

enough to throw the Emperor himself into some uncertainty. 'How is it

possible,' I said, 'that ----- should have been imprudent enough to write

such things to me, who am not his friend, and who have had so little

connection with him? How can one suppose that the Empress should forget

herself, in such circumstances, so far as to manifest aversion to you,

and, still more, to cast herself away upon a man who undoubtedly still

possesses some power to please, but who is no longer young, whose face is

disfigured, and whose person, altogether, has nothing agreeable in it?'

'But,' answered the Emperor, ----- is attached to me; and though he is

not your friend, the postscript sufficiently explains the motive of the

confidence he places in you.' The following words were, in fact, written

at the bottom of the letter: 'I do not think you ought to mention the

truth to the Emperor, but make whatever use of it you think proper.'

I persisted, however, in maintaining that the letter was a counterfeit;

and the Emperor then said to me, 'Go to Caulaincourt. He possesses a

great many others in the same handwriting. Let the comparison decide

between your opinion and mine.'

"I went to Caulaincourt, who said eagerly to me, 'I am sure the letter is

from -----, and I have not the least doubt of the truth of the

particulars it contains. The best thing the Emperor can do is to be

comforted; there is no help to be expected from that side.'

"So sad a discovery was very painful to the Emperor, for he was sincerely

attached to the Empress, and still hoped again to see his son, whom he

loved most tenderly.'

"Fouche had been far from wishing the return of the Emperor. He was long

tired of obeying, and had, besides, undertaken another plan, which

Napoleon's arrival had broken off. The Emperor, however, put him again

at the head of the police, because Savary was worn out in that

employment, and a skillful man was wanted there. Fouche accepted the

office, but without giving up his plan of deposing the Emperor, to put in

his place either his son or a Republic under a President. He had never

ceased to correspond with Prince Metternich, and, if he is to be

believed, he tried to persuade the Emperor to abdicate in favour of his

son. That was also my opinion; but; coming from such a quarter, the

advice was not without danger for the person to whom it was given.

Besides, that advice having been rejected, it: was the duty of the

Minister either to think no more of his plan or to resign his office.

Fouche, however, remained in the Cabinet; and continued his

correspondence. The Emperor, who placed but little confidence in him;

kept a careful eye upon him. One evening the Emperor: had a great deal

of company at the Elysee, he told me not to go home, because he wished to

speak to me. When everybody was gone the Emperor stopped with Fouche in

the apartment next to the one I was in. The door remained half open.

They walked up and down together talking very calmly. I was therefore

greatly astonished when, after a quarter of, an hour, I heard the Emperor

say to him' gravely, 'You are a traitor! Why do you remain Minister of

the Police if you wish to betray me? It rests with me to have you

hanged, and everybody would rejoice at your death!' I did not hear

Fouche's reply, but the conversation lasted above half an hour longer,

the parties all the time walking up and down. When Fouche went away he

bade me cheerfully, good-night, and said that the Emperor had gone back

to his apartments.

"The next day the Emperor spoke to me of the previous night's

conversation. 'I suspected,' he said, 'that the wretch was in

correspondence with Vienna. I have had a banker's clerk arrested on his

return from that city. He has acknowledged that he brought a letter for

Fouche from Metternich, and that the answer was to be sent at a fixed

time to Bale, where a man was to wait for the bearer on the bridge: I

sent for Fouche a few days ago, and kept him three hours long in my

garden, hoping that in the course of a friendly conversation he would

mention that letter to me, but he said nothing. At last, yesterday

evening, I myself opened the subject.' (Here the Emperor repeated to me

the words I had heard the night before, 'You are a traitor,' etc.) He

acknowledged, in fact, continued the Emperor, 'that he had received such

a letter, but that it was not signed and that he had looked upon it as a

mystification. He showed it me. Now that letter was evidently an

answer, in which the writer again declared that he would listen to

nothing more concerning the Emperor, but that, his person excepted, it

would be easy to agree to all the rest. I expected that the Emperor

would conclude his narrative by expressing his anger against Fouche, but

our conversation turned on some other subject, and he talked no more of

him.

"Two days afterwards I went to Fouche to solicit the return to Paris of

an officer of musqueteers who had been banished far from his family. I

found him at breakfast, and sat down next to him. Facing him sat a

stranger. 'Do you see this man?' he said to me; pointing with his spoon

to the stranger; 'he is an aristocrat, a Bourbonist, a Chouan; it is the

Abbe -----, one of the editors of the Journal des Debats--a sworn enemy

to Napoleon, a fanatic partisan of the Bourbons; he is one of our men.

I looked, at him. At every fresh epithet of the Minister the Abbe bowed

his head down to his plate with a smile of cheerfulness and

self-complacency, and with a sort of leer. I never saw a more ignoble

countenance. Fouche explained to me, on leaving the breakfast table,

in what manner all these valets of literature were men of his, and while

I acknowledged to myself that the system might be necessary, I scarcely

knew who were really more despicable--the wretches who thus sold

themselves to the highest bidder, or the minister who boasted of having

bought them, as if their acquisition were a glorious conquest. Judging

that the Emperor had spoken to me of the scene I have described above,

Fouche said to me, 'The Emperor's temper is soured by the resistance he

finds, and he thinks it is my fault. He does not know that I have no

power but by public opinion. To morrow I might hang before my door

twenty persons obnoxious to public opinion, though I should not be able

to imprison for four-and-twenty hours any individual favoured by it.

As I am never in a hurry to speak I remained silent, but reflecting on

what the Emperor had said concerning Fouche I found the comparison of

their two speeches remarkable. The master could have his minister hanged

with public applause, and the minister could hang--whom? Perhaps the

master himself, and with the same approbation. What a singular

situation!--and I believe they were both in the right; so far public

opinion, equitable in regard to Fouche, had swerved concerning the

Emperor."

The wrath of Napoleon was confined to the Lower House, the Peers, from

the nature of their composition, being complacent and passive enough.

The vast majority of them were in fact mere shadows gathered round the

solid persons of Joseph, Lucien, Louis, and Jerome Bonaparte, and Sieyes,

Carnot, and the military men of the Revolution. As a political body

Napoleon despised them himself, and yet he wanted the nation to respect

them. But respect was impossible, and the volatile Parisians made the

Peers a constant object of their witticisms. The punsters of Paris made

the following somewhat ingenious play upon words. Lallemand, Labedogure,

Drouot, and Ney they called Las Quatre Pairs fides (perfides), which in

pronunciation may equally mean the four faithful peers or the four

perfidious men. The infamous Vandamme and another were called

Pair-siffles, the biased peers, or the biased pair, or (persiffles) men

made objects of derision. It was thus the lower orders behaved while

the, existence of France was at stake.

By this time the thunder-cloud of war had gathered and was ready to

burst. Short as the time at his disposal was Napoleon prepared to meet

it with his accustomed energy. Firearms formed one of the most important

objects of attention. There were sufficient sabres, but muskets were

wanting. The Imperial factories could, in ordinary times, furnish

monthly 20,000 stands of new arms; by the extraordinary activity and

inducements offered this number was doubled. Workmen were also employed

in repairing the old muskets. There was displayed at this momentous

period the same activity in the capital as in 1793, and better directed,

though without the same ultimate success. The clothing of the army was

another difficulty, and this was got over by advancing large sums of

money to the cloth manufacturers beforehand. The contractors delivered

20,000 cavalry horses before the 1st of June, 10,000 trained horses had

been furnished by the dismounted gendarmerie. Twelve thousand artillery

horses were also delivered by the 1st of June, in addition to 6000 which

the army already had.

The facility with which the Ministers of Finance and of the Treasury

provided for all these expenses astonished everybody, as it was necessary

to pay for everything in ready money. The system of public works was at

the same time resumed throughout France. "It is easy to see," said the

workmen, "that 'the great contractor' is returned; all was dead, now

everything revives."

"We have just learnt," says a writer who was at Brussels at this time,

"that Napoleon had left the capital of France on the 12th; on the 15th

the frequent arrival of couriers excited extreme anxiety, and towards

evening General Muffing presented himself at the hotel of the Duke of

Wellington with despatches from Blucher. We were all aware that the

enemy was in movement, and the ignorant could not solve the enigma of the

Duke going tranquilly to the ball at the Duke of Richmond's--his coolness

was above their comprehension. Had he remained at his own hotel a panic

would have probably ensued amongst the inhabitants, which would have

embarrassed the intended movement of the British division of the army.

"I returned home late, and we were still talking over our uneasiness when

we heard the trumpets sound. Before the sun had risen in full splendour

I heard martial music approaching, and soon beheld from my windows the

5th reserve of the British army passing; the Highland brigade were the

first in advance, led by their noble thanes, the bagpipes playing their

several pibrochs; they were succeeded by the 28th, their bugles' note

falling more blithely upon the ear. Each regiment passed in succession

with its band playing."

The gallant Duke of Brunswick was at a ball at the assembly-rooms in the

Rue Ducale on the night of the 15th of June when the French guns, which

he was one of the first to hear, were clearly distinguished at Brussels.

"Upon receiving the information that a powerful French force was

advancing in the direction of Charleroi. 'Then it is high time for me to

be off,' he exclaimed, and immediately quitted, the ball-room."

"At four the whole disposable force under the Duke off Wellington was

collected together, but in such haste that many of the officers had no

time to change their silk stockings and dancing-shoes; and some, quite

overcome by drowsiness, were seen lying asleep about the ramparts, still

holding, however, with a firm hand, the reins of their horses, which were

grazing by their sides.

"About five o'clock the word march' was heard in all directions, and

instantly the whole mass appeared to move simultaneously. I conversed

with several of the officers previous to their departure, and not one

appeared to have the slightest idea of an approaching engagement.

"The Duke of Wellington and his staff did not quit Brussels till past

eleven o'clock, and it was not till some time after they were gone that

it was generally known the whole French army, including a strong corps of

cavalry, was within a few miles of Quatre Bras."

CHAPTER VIII.

--[Like the preceding, this chapter first appeared in the 1836

edition, and is not from the pen of M. de Bourrienne.]--

1815.

THE BATTLES OF LIGNY AND QUATRE BRAS.

The moment for striking a decisive blow had now come, and accordingly,

early on the morning of the 15th, the whole of the French army was in

motion. The 2d corps proceeded to Marchiennes to attack the Prussian

outposts at Thuin and Lobes, in order to secure the communication across

the Sambre between those places. The 3d corps, covered by General

Pajol's cavalry, advanced upon Charleroi, followed by the Imperial Guard

and the 6th corps, with the necessary detachments of pontoniers. The

remainder of the cavalry, under Grouchy, also advanced upon Charleroi, on

the flanks of the 3d and 6th corps. The 4th corps was ordered to march

upon the bridge of Chatelet.

On the approach of the French advanced guards an incessant skirmish was

maintained during the whole morning with the Prussians, who, after losing

many men, were compelled to yield to superior numbers. General Zieten,

finding it impossible, from the extent of frontier he had to cover, to

cheek the advance of the French, fell back towards Fleurus by the road to

Charleroi, resolutely contesting the advance of the enemy wherever it was

possible. In the repeated attacks sustained by him he suffered

considerable loss. It was nearly mid-day before a passage through

Charleroi was secured by the French army, and General Zieten continued

his retreat upon Fleurus, where he took up his position for the night.

Upon Zieten's abandoning, in the course of his retreat, the chaussee

which leads to Brussels through Quatre Bras, Marshal Ney, who had only

just been put in command on the left of the French army, was ordered to

advance by this road upon Gosselies, and found at Frasnes part of the

Duke of Wellington's army, composed of Nassau troops under the command of

Prince Bernard of Saxe-Weimar, who, after some skirmishing, maintained

his position. "Notwithstanding all the exertions of the French at a

moment when time was of such importance, they had only been able to

advance about fifteen English miles during the day, with nearly fifteen

hours of daylight."

It was the intention of Napoleon during his operations on this day to

effect a separation between the English and Prussian armies, in which he

had nearly succeeded. Napoleon's plan for this purpose, and the

execution of it by his army, were alike admirable, but it is hardly

probable that the Allied generals were taken by surprise, as it was the

only likely course which Napoleon could have taken. His line of

operation was on the direct road to Brussels, and there were no fortified

works to impede his progress, while from the nature of the country his

numerous and excellent cavalry could be employed with great effect.

In the French accounts Marshal Ney was much blamed for not occupying

Quatre Bras with the whole of his force on the evening of the 16th. "Ney

might probably have driven back the Nassau troops at Quatre Bras, and

occupied that important position, but hearing a heavy cannonade on his

right flank, where General Zieten had taken up his position, he thought

it necessary to halt and detach a division in the direction of Fleurus.

He was severely censured by Napoleon for not having literally followed

his orders and pushed on to Quatre Bras." This accusation forms a

curious contrast with that made against Grouchy, upon whom Napoleon threw

the blame of the defeat at Waterloo, because he strictly fulfilled his

orders, by pressing the Prussians at Wavre, unheeding the cannonade on

his left, which might have led him to conjecture that the more important

contest between the Emperor and Wellington was at that moment raging.

It was at six o'clock in the evening of the 16th that the Drake of

Wellington received the first information of the advance of the French

army; but it was not, however, until ten o'clock that positive news

reached him that the French army had moved upon the line of the Sambre.

This information induced him to push forward reinforcements on Quatre

Bras, at which place he himself arrived at an early hour on the 16th, and

immediately proceeded to Bry, to devise measures with Marshal Blucher in

order to combine their efforts. From the movement of considerable masses

of the French in front of the Prussians it was evident that their first

grand attack would be directed against them. That this was Napoleon's

object on the 16th maybe seen by his orders to Ney and Grouchy to turn

the right of the Prussians, and drive the British from their position at

Quatre Bras, and then to march down the chaussee upon Bry in order

effectually to separate the two armies. Ney was accordingly detached for

this purpose with 43,000 men. In the event of the success of Marshal Ney

he would have been enabled to detach a portion of his forces for the

purpose of making a flank attack upon the Prussians in the rear of St.

Amend, whilst Napoleon in person was directing his main efforts against

that village the strongest in the Prussian position. Ney's reserve was

at Frasnes, disposable either for the purpose of supporting the attack on

Quatre Bras or that at St. Amand; and in case of Ney's complete success

to turn the Prussian right flank by marching on Bry.

CHAPTER IX.

1815

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

One of the most important struggles of modern times was now about to

commence--a struggle which for many years was to decide the fate of

Europe. Napoleon and Wellington at length stood opposite one another.

They had never met; the military reputation of each was of the highest

kind,

--[For full details of the Waterloo campaign see Siborne's History

of the War in France and Belgium in 1815, giving the English

contemporary account; Chesney's Waterloo Lectures, the best English

modern account, which has been accepted by the Prussians as pretty

nearly representing their view; and Waterloo by Lieutenant-Colonel

Prince Edouard de la Tour d'Auvergne (Paris, Plon, 1870), which may

be taken as the French modern account.

In judging this campaign the reader must guard himself from looking

on it as fought by two different armies-the English and the

Prussian-whose achievements are to be weighed against one another.

Wellington and Blucher were acting in a complete unison rare even

when two different corps of the same nation are concerned, but

practically unexampled in the case of two armies of different

nations. Thus the two forces became one army, divided into two

wings, one, the left (or Prussian wing) having been defeated by the

main body of the French at Ligny on the 16th of June, the right (or

English wing) retreated to hold the position at Waterloo, where the

left (or Prussian wing) was to join it, and the united force was to

crash the enemy. Thus there is no question as to whether the

Prussian army saved the English by their arrival, or whether the

English saved the Prussians by their resistance at Waterloo. Each

army executed well and gallantly its part in a concerted operation.

The English would never have fought at Waterloo if they had not

relied on the arrival of the Prussians. Had the Prussians not come

up on the afternoon of the 18th of June the English would have been

exposed to the same great peril of having alone to deal with the

mass of the French army, as the Prussians would have had to face if

they had found the English in full retreat. To investigate the

relative performances of the two armies is lunch the same as to

decide the respective merits of the two Prussian armies at Sadowa,

where one held the Austrians until the other arrived. Also in

reading the many interesting personal accounts of the campaign it

most be remembered that opinions about the chance of success in a

defensive struggle are apt to warp with the observer's position, as

indeed General Grant has remarked in answer to criticisms on his

army's state at the end of the first day of the battle of Shiloh or

'Pittsburg Landing. The man placed in the front rank or fighting

line sees attack after attack beaten off. He sees only part of his

own losses, am most of the wounded disappear, and he also knows

something of the enemy's loss by seeing the dead in front of him.

Warmed by the contest, he thus believes in success. The man placed

in rear or advancing with reinforcements, having nothing of the

excitement of the struggle, sees only the long and increasing column

of wounded, stragglers, and perhaps of fliers. He sees his

companion fall without being able to answer the fire. He sees

nothing of the corresponding loss of the enemy, and he is apt to

take a most desponding view of the situation. Thus Englishmen

reading the accounts of men who fought at Waterloo are too ready to

disbelieve representations of what was taking place in the rear of

the army, and to think Thackeray's life-like picture in Vanity Fair

of the state of Brussels must be overdrawn. Indeed, in this very

battle of Waterloo, Zieten began to retreat when his help was most

required, because one of his aides de camp told him that the right

wing of the English was in full retreat. "This inexperienced young

man," says Muffling, p. 248, "had mistaken the great number of

wounded going, or being taken, to the rear to be dressed, for

fugitives, and accordingly made a false report." Further, reserves

do not say much of their part or, sometimes, no part of the fight,

and few people know that at least two English regiments actually

present on the field of Waterloo hardly fired a shot till the last

advance.

The Duke described the army as the worst he ever commanded, and said

that if he had had his Peninsular men, the fight would have been

over much sooner. But the Duke, sticking to ideas now obsolete, had

no picked corps. Each man, trusting in and trusted by his comrades,

fought under his own officers and under his own regimental colours.

Whatever they did not know, the men knew how to die, and at the end

of the day a heap of dead told where each regiment and battery had

stood.]--

the career of both had been marked by signal victory; Napoleon had

carried his triumphant legions across the stupendous Alps, over the north

of Italy, throughout Prussia, Austria, Russia, and even to the foot of

the Pyramids, while Wellington, who had been early distinguished in

India, had won immortal renown in the Peninsula, where he had defeated,

one after another, the favourite generals of Napoleon. He was now to

make trial of his prowess against their Master.

Among the most critical events of modern times the battle of Waterloo

stands conspicuous. This sanguinary encounter at last stopped the

torrent of the ruthless and predatory ambition of the French, by which so

many countries had been desolated. With the peace which immediately

succeeded it confidence was restored to Europe.

CHAPTER X.

1815

Interview with Lavallette--Proceedings in the French Chambers--

Second abdication of Napoleon--He retires to Rochefort, negotiates

with Captain Maitland, and finally embarks in the 'Bellerophon'.

One of the first public men to see Napoleon after his return from

Waterloo was Lavallette. "I flew," says he, "to the Elysee to see the

Emperor: he summoned me into his closet, and as soon as he saw me, he

came to meet me with a frightful epileptic 'laugh. `Oh, my God!' he

said, raising his eyes to heaven, and walking two or three times up and

down the room. This appearance of despair was however very short. He

soon recovered his coolness, and asked me what was going forward in the

Chamber of Representatives. I could not attempt to hide that party

spirit was there carried to a high pitch, and that the majority seemed

determined to require his abdication, and to pronounce it themselves if

he did not concede willingly. 'How is that?' he said. 'If proper

measures are not taken the enemy will be before the gates of Paris in

eight days. Alas!' he added, 'have I accustomed them to such great

victories that they knew not how to bear one day's misfortune? What will

become of poor France? I have done all I could for her!' He then heaved

a deep sigh. Somebody asked to speak to him, and I left him, with a

direction to come back at a later hour.

"I passed the day in seeking information among all my friends and

acquaintances. I found in all of them either the greatest dejection or

an extravagant joy, which they disguised by feigned alarm and pity for

myself, which I repulsed with great indignation. Nothing favourable was

to be expected from the Chamber of Representatives. They all said they

wished for liberty, but, between two enemies who appeared ready to

destroy it, they preferred the foreigners, the friends of the Bourbons,

to Napoleon, who might still have prolonged the struggle, but that he

alone would not find means to save them and erect the edifice of liberty.

The Chamber of Peers presented a much sadder spectacle. Except the

intrepid Thibaudeau, who till, the last moment expressed himself with

admirable energy against the Bourbons, almost all the others thought of

nothing else but getting out of the dilemma with the least loss they

could. Some took no pains to hide their wish of bending again under the

Bourbon yoke."

On the evening of Napoleon's return to Paris he sent for Benjamin

Constant to come to him at the Elysee about seven o'clock. The Chambers

had decreed their permanence, and proposals for abdication had reached

the Emperor. He was serious but calm. In reply to some words on the

disaster of Waterloo he said, "The question no longer concerns me, but

France. They wish me to abdicate. Have they calculated upon the

inevitable consequences of this abdication? It is round me, round my

name, that the army rallies: to separate me from it is to disband it.

If I abdicate to-day, in two days' time you will no longer have an army.

These poor fellows do not understand all your subtleties. Is it believed

that axioms in metaphysics, declarations of right, harangues from the

tribune, will put a stop to the disbanding of an army? To reject me when

I landed at Cannes I can conceive possible; to abandon me now is what I

do not understand. It is not when the enemy is at twenty-five leagues'

distance that any Government can be overturned with impunity. Does any

one imagine that the Foreign Powers will be won over by fine words? If

they had dethroned me fifteen days ago there would have been some spirit

in it; but as it is, I make part of what strangers attack, I make part,

then, of what France is bound to defend. In giving me up she gives up

herself, she avows her weakness, she acknowledges herself conquered, she

courts the insolence of the conqueror. It is not the love of liberty

which deposes me, but Waterloo; it is fear, and a fear of which your

enemies will take advantage. And then what title has the Chamber to

demand my abdication? It goes out of its lawful sphere in doing so; it

has no authority. It is my right, it is my duty to dissolve it."

"He then hastily ran over the possible consequences of such a step.

Separated from the Chambers, he could only be considered as a military

chief: but the army would be for him; that would always join him who can

lead it against foreign banners, and to this might be added all that part

of the population which is equally powerful and easily, led in such a

state of things. As if chance intended to strengthen Napoleon in this

train of thought, while he was speaking the avenue of Marigny resounded

with the cries of 'Vive l'Empereur!' A crowd of men, chiefly of the poor

and labouring class, pressed forward into the avenue, full of wild

enthusiasm, and trying to scale the walls to make an offer to Napoleon to

rally round and defend him. Bonaparte for some time looked attentively

at this group. 'You see it is so,' said he; 'those are not the men whom

I have loaded with honours and riches. What do these people owe me? I

found them--I left them--poor. The instinct of necessity enlightens

them; the voice of the country speaks by their months; and if I choose,

if I permit it, in an hour the refractory Chambers will have ceased to

exist. But the life of a man is not worth purchasing at such a price: I

did not return from the Isle of Elba that Paris should be inundated with

blood: He did not like the idea of flight.' 'Why should I not stay

here?' he repeated. 'What do you suppose they would do to a man disarmed

like me? I will go to Malmaison: I can live there in retirement with

some friends, who most certainly will come to see me only for my own

sake.'

"He then described with complacency and even with a sort of gaiety this

new kind of life. Afterwards, discarding an idea which sounded like mere

irony, he went on. 'If they do not like me to remain in France, where am

I to go? To England? My abode there would be ridiculous or disquieting.

I should be tranquil; no one would believe it. Every fog would be

suspected of concealing my landing on the coast. At the first sign of a

green coat getting out of a boat one party would fly from France, the

other would put France out of the pale of the law. I should compromise

everybody, and by dint of the repeated "Behold he comes!" I should feel

the temptation to set out. America would be more suitable; I could live

there with dignity. But once more, what is there to fear? What

sovereign can, without injuring himself, persecute me? To one I have

restored half his dominions; how often has the other pressed my hand,

calling me a great man! And as to the third, can he find pleasure or

honour in humiliation of his son-in-law? Would they wish to proclaim in

the face of the world that all they did was through fear? As to the

rest, I shall see: I do not wish to employ open force. I came in the

hope of combining our last resources: they abandoned me; they do so with

the same facility with which they received me back. Well, then, let them

efface, if possible, this double stain of weakness and levity! Let them

cover it over with some sacrifice, with some glory! Let them do for the

country what they will not do for me. I doubt it. To-day, those who

deliver up Bonaparte say that it is to save France: to-morrow, by

delivering up France, they will prove that it was to save their own

heads.'"

The humiliating scenes which rapidly succeeded one another; and which

ended in Napoleon's unconditional surrender, may be briefly told. As

soon as possible after his arrival at Paris he assembled his counsellors,

when he declared himself in favour of still resisting. The question,

however, was, whether the Chambers would support him; and Lafayette being

treacherously informed, it is said by Fouche, that it was intended to

dissolve the Chambers, used his influence to get the chambers to adopt

the propositions he laid before them. By these the independence of the

nation was asserted to be in danger; the sittings of the Chamber were

declared permanent, and all attempts to dissolve it were pronounced

treasonable. The propositions were adopted, and being communicated to

the Chamber of Peers, that body also declared itself permanent. Whatever

might have been the intentions of Bonaparte, it was now manifest that

there were no longer any hopes of his being able to make his will the law

of the nation; after some vacillation, therefore, on 22d June he

published the following declaration:

TO THE FRENCH PEOPLE

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 a

sacrifice to the hatred of the enemies of France. May they prove

sincere in their declarations, and really have 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, that you may continue an

independent nation.

(Signed) NAPOLEON.