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Title: Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Volume V.

Author: Walter Scott

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Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF
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LIFE OF NAPOLEON
Pocket Edition

VOL. V.

LIFE OF

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
By SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.

VOL. 5.

Hougoumont
EDINBURGH; A. & C. BLACK.
1876

PAGE
Chap. LXXV.—Buonaparte marches upon Blucher, who is in possession of
Soissons—Attacks the Place without success—Battle of Craonne—Blucher
Retreats on Laon—Battle of Laon—Napoleon is compelled to withdraw on
the 11th—He attacks Rheims, which is evacuated by the Russians—Defeat
at Bar-sur-Aube of Oudinot and Gerard, who, with Macdonald, are forced
to Retreat towards Paris—Schwartzenberg wishes to Retreat behind the
Aube—but the Emperor Alexander and Lord Castlereagh opposing the
measure, it is determined to proceed upon Paris—Napoleon occupies Arcis
—Battle of Arcis—Napoleon is joined, in the night after the Battle, by
Macdonald, Oudinot, and Gerard—and Retreats along the Aube, 1
Chap. LXXVI.—Plans of Buonaparte—Military and Political Questions
regarding Paris—Napoleon crosses the Marne on 22d March—Retrospect
of Events in the Vicinity of Lyons, &c.—Defeats of the French in various
Quarters—Marmont and Mortier Retreat under the walls of Paris—Joseph
Buonaparte—Maria Louisa, with the Civil Authorities, leave the City—
Attack of Paris on the 30th—A Truce accorded—Joseph flies, 11
Chap. LXXVII.—State of Parties in Paris—Royalists—Revolutionists—
Buonapartists—Talleyrand—Chateaubriand—Mission to the Allied
Sovereigns—Their Answer—Efforts of the Buonapartists—Feelings of the
Lowest Classes—of the Middling Ranks—Neutrality of the National Guard
—Growing confidence of the Royalists—Proclamations and White
Cockades—Crowds assemble at the Boulevards—The Allies are received
with shouts of welcome—Their Army retires to quarters—and the Cossacks
bivouac in the Champs-Elysées, 28
Chap. LXXVIII.—Fears of the Parisians—Proceedings of Napoleon—
Operations of the French Cavalry in rear of the Allies—Capture of
Weissemberg—The Emperor Francis is nearly surprised—Napoleon
reaches Troyes on the night of the 29th March—Opinion of Macdonald as
to the possibility of relieving Paris—Napoleon leaves Troyes, on the 30th
and meets Belliard, a few miles from Paris, in full Retreat—Conversation
betwixt them—He determines to proceed to Paris, but is at length dissuaded
—and Despatches Caulaincourt to receive terms from the Allied Sovereigns
—He himself returns to Fontainbleau, 35

Chap. LXXIX.—The Allied Sovereigns issue a Proclamation that they will
not treat with Buonaparte—A Provisional Government is named by the
Conservative Senate, who also decree the Forfeiture of Napoleon—This
decree is sanctioned by all the Public Bodies in Paris—The Legality of
these Proceedings discussed—Feelings towards Napoleon, of the Lower
Classes, and of the Military—On 4th April, Buonaparte issues a document
Abdicating the Throne of France—His subsequent agitation, and wish to
continue the War—The deed is finally dispatched, 40
Chap. LXXX.—Victor, and other Maréchals give in their adhesion to the
Provisional Government—Marmont enters into a separate Convention; but
assists at the Conferences held at Paris, leaving Souham second in
command of his Army—The Commanders have an Interview with the
Emperor Alexander—Souham enters with his Army into the lines of the
Allies; in consequence, the Allied Sovereigns insist upon the unconditional
Submission of Napoleon—His reluctant acquiescence—The Terms granted
to him—Disapprobation of Lord Castlereagh—General Desertion of
Napoleon—Death of Josephine—Singular Statement made by Baron Fain,
Napoleon's Secretary, of the Emperor's attempt to commit Suicide—After
this he becomes more Resigned—Leaves Fontainbleau, 28th April, 53
Chap. LXXXI.—Commissioners appointed to escort Napoleon—He leaves
Fontainbleau on the 20th April—His Interview with Augereau at Valence—
Expressions of Popular dislike towards Napoleon in the South of France—
Fears for his Personal safety—His own agitation and Precautions—He
arrives at Frejus, and embarks on board the Undaunted, with the British and
Austrian Commissioners—Arrives at Elba on 4th May, 66
Chap. LXXXII.—Elba—Napoleon's mode of Life and occupation there—
Effects of his Residence at Elba upon the adjoining Kingdom of Italy—He
is visited by his Mother and the Princess Pauline—and by a Polish lady—
Sir Niel Campbell the only Commissioner left at Elba—Napoleon's
Conversations on the State of Europe—His pecuniary Difficulties—and
fears of Assassination—Symptoms of some approaching Crisis—A part of
the Old Guard disbanded—Napoleon escapes from Elba—Fruitless pursuit
by Sir Neil Campbell, 72

Chap. LXXXIII.—Retrospect—Restoration of the Bourbons displeasing to
the Soldiery, but satisfactory to the People—Terms favourable to France
granted by the Allies—Discontent about the manner of conceding the
Charter—Other grounds of Dissatisfaction—Apprehensions lest the Church
and Crown Lands should be resumed—Resuscitation of the Jacobin Faction
—Increased Dissatisfaction in the Army—The Claims of the Emigrants
mooted in the Chamber of Delegates—Maréchal Macdonald's Proposal—
Financial Difficulties—Restriction on the Press—Reflections on this
Subject, 85
Chap. LXXXIV.—Carnot's Memorial on Public Affairs—Fouché joins the
Jacobins—Projects of that Party; which finally joins the Buonapartists—
Active Intrigues—Congress of Vienna—Murat, alarmed at its Proceedings,
opens an Intercourse with Napoleon—Plans of the Conspirators—
Buonaparte's Escape from Elba—He Lands at Cannes—Is joined at
Grenoble, by 3000 Troops—Halts at Lyons, appoints a Ministry, and issues
several Decrees—Dismay of the Government—Intrigues of Fouché—
Treachery of Ney—Revolt of the Royal Army at Melun—The King leaves
Paris, and Buonaparte arrives there—His Reception, 108
Chap. LXXXV.—Various attempts to organise a defence for the Bourbons
fail—Buonaparte, again reinstated on the throne of France, is desirous of
continuing the peace with the Allies—but no answer is returned to his
letters—Treaty of Vienna—Grievances alleged by Buonaparte in
justification of the step he had taken—Debates in the British House of
Commons, on the renewal of War—Murat occupies Rome with 50,000 men
—his proclamation summoning all Italians to arms—He advances against
the Austrians—is repulsed at Occhio-Bello—defeated at Tolentino—flies to
Naples, and thence, in disguise, to France—where Napoleon refuses to
receive him, 134
Chap. LXXXVI.—Buonaparte's attempts to conciliate Britain—Plot to
carry off Maria Louisa fails—State of feeling in France—The Army—The
Jacobins—The Constitutionalists—Fouché and Siêyes made Peers—
Freedom of the Press granted, and outraged—Independent conduct of
Comté, editor of Le Censeur—Disaffections among the lower orders—Part
of these assemble before the Tuileries, and applaud the Emperor—Festival
of the Federates—New Constitution—It is received with dissatisfaction—

Meeting of the Champ de Mai to ratify it—Buonaparte's Address to the
Chambers of Peers and Deputies—The spirit of Jacobinism predominant in
the latter, 144
Chap. LXXXVII.—Preparations for War—Positions of the Allied Forces,
amounting in whole to One Million of men—Buonaparte's Force not more
than 200,000—Conscription not ventured upon—National Guard—their
reluctance to serve—Many Provinces hostile to Napoleon—Fouché's
Report makes known the Disaffection—Insurrection in La Vendée—quelled
—Military Resources—Plan of Campaign—Paris placed in a Complete
State of Defence—Frontier Passes and Towns fortified—Generals who
accept Command under Napoleon—He Announces his Purpose to measure
himself with Wellington, 157
Chap. LXXXVIII.—Army of Wellington covers Brussels—that of Blucher
on the Sambre and Meuse—Napoleon reviews his Grand Army on 14th
June—Advances upon Charleroi—His plan to separate the Armies of the
two opposing Generals fails—Interview of Wellington and Blucher at Bric
—British Army concentrated at Quatre-bras—Napoleon's plan of attack—
Battle of Ligny, and defeat of Blucher on the 16th June—Action at Quatre-
bras on the same day—The British retain possession of the field—Blucher
eludes the French pursuit—Napoleon joins Ney—Retreat of the British
upon Waterloo, 164
Chap. LXXXIX.—Strength of the two Armies—Plans of their Generals—
The Battle of Waterloo commenced on the forenoon of the 18th June—
French attack directed against the British centre—shifted to their right—
Charges of the Cuirassiers—and their reception—Advance of the Prussians
—Ney's charge at the head of the Guards—His repulse—and Napoleon's
orders for retreat—The Victorious Generals meet at La Belle Alliance—
Behaviour of Napoleon during the engagement—Blucher's pursuit of the
French—Loss of the British—of the French—Napoleon's subsequent
attempts to undervalue the military skill of the Duke of Wellington
answered—His unjust censures of Grouchy—The notion that the British
were on the point of losing the Battle when the Prussians came up, shown to
be erroneous, 174

Chap. XC.—Buonaparte's arrival at Paris—The Chambers assemble, and
adopt Resolutions, indicating a wish for Napoleon's Abdication—Fouché
presents Napoleon's Abdication, which stipulates that his Son shall succeed
him—Carnot's Report to the Peers, of the means of defence—Contradicted
by Ney—Stormy Debate on the Abdication Act—Both Chambers evade
formally recognising Napoleon II.—Provisional Government—Napoleon at
Malmaison—His offer of his services in defence of Paris rejected—
Surveillance of General Beker—Means provided at Rochefort for his
departure to the United States—He arrives at Rochefort on 3d July—The
Provisional Government attempt in vain to treat with the Allies—The Allies
advance to Paris—Chamber of Peers disperse—Louis XVIII. re-enters Paris
on 8th July, 195
Chap. XCI.—Disposition of the British Fleet along the Western Coast of
France, in order to prevent Buonaparte's Escape—the Bellerophon off
Rochefort—Orders under which Captain Maitland acted—Plans agitated for
Napoleon's Escape—Savary and Las Cases open a Negotiation with Captain
Maitland—Captain Maitland's Account of what passed at their Interviews—
Las Cases' Account—The Statements compared—Napoleon's Letter to the
Prince Regent—He surrenders himself on board the Bellerophon, on 15th
July—His arrival off Plymouth—All approach to the Ship prohibited—
Final determination of the English Government that Buonaparte shall be
sent to St. Helena—His Protest, 219
Chap. XCII.—Napoleon's real view of the measure of sending him to St.
Helena—Allegation that Captain Maitland made terms with him—
disproved—Probability that the insinuation arose with Las Cases—Scheme
of removing Napoleon from the Bellerophon, by citing him as a witness in a
case of libel—Threats of self-destruction—Napoleon goes on board the
Northumberland, which sails for St. Helena—His behaviour on the voyage
—He arrives at St. Helena, 16th October, 234
Chap. XCIII.—Causes which justify the English Government in the
measure of Napoleon's Banishment—Napoleon's wish to retire to England,
in order that, being near France, he might again interfere in her affairs—
Reasons for withholding from him the title of Emperor—Sir George
Cockburn's Instructions—Temporary Accommodation at Briars—Napoleon

removes to Longwood—Precautions taken for the safe custody of the
Prisoner, 245
Chap. XCIV.—Buonaparte's alleged grievances considered—Right to
restrict his Liberty—Limits allowed Napoleon—Complaints urged by Las
Cases against Sir George Cockburn—Sir Hudson Lowe appointed Governor
of St. Helena—Information given by General Gourgaud to Government—
Agitation of various Plans for Buonaparte's Escape—Writers on the subject
of Napoleon's Residence at St. Helena—Napoleon's irritating Treatment of
Sir Hudson Lowe—Interviews between them, 255
Chap. XCV.—Instructions to Sir Hudson Lowe—Sum allowed for the Ex-
Emperor's Expenses—Napoleon's proposal to defray his own Expenses—
Sale of his Plate—made in order to produce a false impression: he had at
that time a large sum of Money in his strong-box—Wooden-House
constructed in London, and transported to St. Helena—Interview between
Sir H. Lowe and Napoleon—Delays in the Erection of the House—The
Regulation that a British Officer should attend Napoleon in his Rides—
Communication with Europe carried on by the Inmates of Longwood—
Regulation respecting Napoleon's Intercourse with the Inhabitants of St.
Helena—General Reflections on the Disputes between him and Sir H.
Lowe, 279
Chap. XCVI.—Napoleon's Domestic Habits—Manner in which he spent the
day—His Dress—Nature of the Fragments of Memoirs he dictated to
Gourgaud and Montholon—His admiration of Ossian—He prefers Racine
and Corneille to Voltaire—Dislike of Tacitus—His Vindication of the
Character of Cæsar—His behaviour towards the Persons of his Household
—Amusements and Exercises—His Character of Sir Pulteney Malcolm—
Degree of his Intercourse with the Islanders, and with Visitors to the Island
—Interview with Captain Basil Hall—with Lord Amherst and the
Gentlemen attached to the Chinese Embassy, 297
Chap. XCVII.—Napoleon's Illness—viz. Cancer in the Stomach—Removal
of Las Cases—Montholon's Complaints brought forward by Lord Holland
—and replied to by Lord Bathurst—Effect of the failure of Lord Holland's
motion—Removal of Dr. O'Meara from his attendance on Buonaparte—
who refuses to permit the visits of any other English Physician—Two

Priests sent to St. Helena at his desire—Dr. Antommarchi—Continued
Disputes with Sir Hudson Lowe—Plans for Effecting Buonaparte's Escape
—Scheme of a Smuggler to approach St. Helena in a Submarine Vessel—
Seizure of the Vessel—Letter expressing the King of England's interest in
the Illness of Napoleon—Consent of the latter to admit the visits of Dr.
Arnott—Napoleon employs himself in making his Will—and gives other
directions connected with his Decease—Extreme Unction administered to
him—His Death, on 5th May, 1821—Anatomization of the Body—His
Funeral, 313
APPENDIX—
No. I.—Remarks on the Campaign of 1815, 353
No. II.—Buonaparte's Protest, 373
No. III.—States of Thermometer, 377
No. IV.—Interview betwixt Napoleon Buonaparte and Henry Ellis,
Esq., third Commissioner of Lord Amherst's Embassy to China, 377
No. V.—Memorandum of the Establishment at Longwood, 381
No. VI.—Interview between Buonaparte and the Widow of Theobald
Wolfe Tone, 382
No. VII.—Buonaparte's last Will and Testament, 384

Buonaparte marches upon Blucher, who is in possession of
Soissons—Attacks the place without success—Battle of Craonne
—Blucher retreats on Laon—Battle of Laon—Napoleon is
compelled to withdraw on the 11th—He attacks Rheims, which
is evacuated by the Russians—Defeat at Bar-sur-Aube of
Oudinot and Gerard, who, with Macdonald, are forced to retreat
towards Paris—Schwartzenberg wishes to retreat behind the
Aube—but the Emperor Alexander and Lord Castlereagh
opposing the measure, it is determined to proceed upon Paris—
Napoleon occupies Arcis—Battle of Arcis—Napoleon is joined,
in the night after the battle, by Macdonald, Oudinot, and Gerard
—and retreats along the Aube.
The sword was now again brandished, not to be sheathed or reposed, until
the one party or the other should be irretrievably defeated.
The situation of Buonaparte, even after the victory of Montereau, and
capture of Troyes, was most discouraging. If he advanced on the grand
army of the allies which he had in front, there was every likelihood that
they would retire before him, wasting his force in skirmishes, without a
possibility of his being able to force them to a general action; while, in the
meantime, it might be reckoned for certain that Blucher, master of the
Marne, would march upon Paris. On the contrary, if Napoleon moved with
his chief force against Blucher, he had, in like manner, to apprehend that
Schwartzenberg would resume the route upon Paris by way of the valley of
the Seine. Thus, he could make no exertion upon the one side, without
exposing the capital to danger on the other.

After weighing all the disadvantages on either side, Napoleon determined to
turn his arms against Blucher, as most hostile to his person, most rapid in
his movements, and most persevering in his purposes. He left Oudinot,
Macdonald, and Gerard in front of the grand army, in hopes that, however
inferior in numbers, they might be able to impose upon Schwartzenberg a
belief that Napoleon was present in person, and thus either induce the
Austrian to continue his retreat, or at least prevent him from resuming the
offensive. For this purpose the French troops were to move on Bar-sur-
Aube, and occupy, if practicable, the heights in that neighbourhood. The
soldiers were also to use the cry of Vive l'Empereur, as if Napoleon had
been present. It was afterwards seen, that as the maréchals did not
command 40,000 men in all, including a force under Macdonald, it was
impossible for them to discharge effectually the part assigned them. In the
meanwhile, Napoleon himself continued his lateral march on Blucher,
supposing it possible for him, as formerly, to surprise his flank, as the
Prussians marched upon Paris. For this purpose he moved as speedily as
possible to La Ferté-Gauchère, where he arrived 1st March; but Sacken and
D'Yorck, who would have been the first victims of this manœuvre, as their
divisions were on the left bank of the Marne, near to Meaux, crossed the
river at La Ferté Jouarre, and formed a junction with Blucher, who now
resolved to fall back on the troops of Bulow and Winzengerode. These
generals were, it will be remembered, advancing from the frontiers of
Belgium.
A sudden hard frost rendered the country passable, which had before been
in so swampy a condition as to render marching very difficult. This was
much to the advantage of the Prussians. Napoleon detached the forces under
Marmont and Mortier, whom he had united with his own, to press upon and
harass the retreat of the Prussian field-maréchal; while he himself, pushing
on by a shorter line, possessed himself of the town of Fismes, about half
way betwixt Rheims and Soissons. The occupation of this last place was
now a matter of the last consequence. If Blucher should find Soissons open
to him, he might cross the Marne, extricate himself from his pursuers
without difficulty, and form his junction with the army of the North. But if
excluded from this town and bridge, Blucher must have hazarded a battle on
the most disadvantageous terms, having Mortier and Marmont on his front,

Napoleon on his left flank, and in his rear, a town, with a hostile garrison
and a deep river.
It was almost a chance, like that of the dice, which party possessed this
important place. The Russians had taken it on 15th February;[1] but, being
immediately evacuated by them, it was on the 19th occupied by Mortier,
and garrisoned by 500 Poles, who were imagined capable of the most
determined defence. On the 2d March, however, the commandant,
intimidated by the advance of Bulow's army of 30,000 men, yielded up
Soissons to that general, upon a threat of an instant storm, and no quarter
allowed. The Russian standards then waved on the ramparts of Soissons,
and Blucher, arriving under its walls, acquired the full power of uniting
himself with his rear-guard, and giving or refusing battle at his pleasure, on
the very moment when Buonaparte, having turned his flank, expected to
have forced on him a most disadvantageous action.
The Emperor's wrath exhaled in a bulletin against the inconceivable
baseness of the commandant of Soissons, who was said to have given up so
important a place when he was within hearing of the cannonade on the 2d
and 3d, and must thereby have known the approach of the Emperor.[2] In the
heat of his wrath, he ordered Soissons to be assaulted and carried by storm
at all risks; but it was defended by General Langeron with 10,000 Russians.
A desperate conflict ensued, but Langeron retained possession of the town.
Abandoning this project, Napoleon crossed the Aisne
BATTLE OF at Béry-au-Bac, with the purpose of attacking the left
CRAONNE.
wing of Blucher's army, which, being now
concentrated, was strongly posted betwixt the village of Craonne and the
town of Laon, in such a manner as to secure a retreat upon the very strong
position which the latter town affords. Blucher imagined a manœuvre,
designed to show Buonaparte that his favourite system of turning an
enemy's flank had its risks and inconveniences. He detached ten thousand
horse under Winzengerode, by a circuitous route, with orders that when the
French commenced their march on Craonne, they should move round and
act upon their flank and rear. But the state of the roads, and other
impediments, prevented this body of cavalry from getting up in time to
execute the intended manœuvre.

Meanwhile, at eleven in the morning of the 7th March, the French began
their attack with the utmost bravery. Ney assaulted the position on the right
flank, which was defended by a ravine, and Victor, burning to show the zeal
which he had been accused of wanting, made incredible exertions in front.
But the assault was met by a defence equally obstinate, and the contest
became one of the most bloody and best-sustained during the war. It was
four in the afternoon, and the French had not yet been able to dislodge the
Russians on any point, when the latter received orders from Blucher to
withdraw from the disputed ground, and unite with the Prussian army on the
splendid position of Laon, which the maréchal considered as a more
favourable scene of action. There were no guns lost, or prisoners made. The
Russians, in despite of a general charge of the French cavalry, retreated as
on the parade. As the armies, considering the absence of Winzengerode with
the detachment of cavalry, and of Langeron with the garrison of Soissons,
were nearly equal, the indecisive event of the battle was the more ominous.
The slain and wounded were about the same number on both sides, and the
French only retained as a mark of victory the possession of the field of
battle.[3]
Napoleon himself followed the retreat of the Russians as far as an inn
between Craonne and Laon, called L'Ange Gardien, where he reposed for
the night. He, indeed, never more needed the assistance of a guardian angel,
and his own appears to have deserted his charge. It was here that Rumigny
found him when he presented the letter of Caulaincourt, praying for final
instructions from the Emperor; and it was here he could only extract the
ambiguous reply, that if he must submit to the bastinado, it should be only
by force. At this cabaret, also, he regulated his plan for attacking the
position of Blucher on the next morning; and thus ridding himself finally, if
possible, of that Silesian army, which had been his object of disquietude for
forty-two days, during the course of which, scarce two days had passed
without their being engaged in serious conflict, either in front or rear. He
received valuable information for enabling him to make the projected
attack, from a retired officer, M. Bussy de Bellay, who had been his
schoolfellow at Brienne, who lived in the neighbourhood, and was well
acquainted with the ground, and whom he instantly rewarded with the
situation of an aide-de-camp, and a large appointment. When his plan for
the attack was finished, he is said to have exclaimed, "I see this war is an

abyss without a bottom, but I am resolved to be the last whom it shall
devour."
The town of Laon is situated upon a table-land, or eminence, flattened on
the top, which rises very abruptly above a plain extending about a league in
length. The face of the declivity is steep, shelving, almost precipitous, and
occupied by terraces serving as vineyards. Bulow defended this town and
bank. The rest of the Silesian army was placed on the plain below; the left
wing, composed of Prussians, extending to the village of Athies; the right,
consisting of Russians, resting on the hills between Thiers and Semonville.
Only the interval of one day elapsed between the
BATTLE OF LAON— bloody battle of Craonne and that of Laon. On the
RHEIMS.
9th, availing himself of a thick mist, Napoleon pushed
his columns of attack to the very foot of the eminence on which Laon is
situated, possessed himself of two of the villages, termed Semilly and
Ardon, and prepared to force his way up the hill towards the town. The
weather cleared, the French attack was repelled by a tremendous fire from
terraces, vineyards, windmills, and every point of advantage. Two battalions
of Yagers, the impetus of their attack increased by the rapidity of the
descent, recovered the villages, and the attack of Laon in front seemed to be
abandoned. The French, however, continued to retain possession, in that
quarter, of a part of the village of Clacy. Thus stood the action on the right
and centre. The French had been repulsed all along the line. On the left
Maréchal Marmont had advanced upon the village of Athies, which was the
key of Blucher's position in that point. It was gallantly defended by D'Yorck
and Kleist, supported by Sacken and Langeron. Marmont made some
progress, notwithstanding this resistance, and night found him bivouacking
in front of the enemy, and in possession of part of the disputed village of
Athies. But he was not destined to remain there till daybreak.
Upon the 10th, at four in the morning, just as Buonaparte, arising before
daybreak, was calling for his horse, two dismounted dragoons were brought
before him, with the unpleasing intelligence that the enemy had made a
hourra upon Marmont, surprised him in his bivouac, and cut to pieces,
taken, or dispersed his whole division, and they alone had escaped to bring
the tidings. All the maréchal's guns were lost, and they believed he was
himself either killed or prisoner. Officers sent to reconnoitre, brought back a

confirmation of the truth of this intelligence, excepting as to the situation of
the maréchal. He was on the road to Rheims, near Corbeny, endeavouring to
rally the fugitives. Notwithstanding this great loss, and as if in defiance of
bad fortune, Napoleon renewed the attack upon Clacy and Semilly; but all
his attempts being fruitless, he was induced to relinquish the undertaking,
under the excuse that the position was found impregnable. On the 11th, he
withdrew from before Laon, having been foiled in all his attempts, and
having lost thirty guns, and nearly 10,000 men. The allies suffered
comparatively little, as they fought under cover.
Napoleon halted at Soissons, which, evacuated by Langeron when Blucher
concentrated his army, was now again occupied by the French. Napoleon
directed its defences to be strengthened, designing to leave Mortier to
defend the place against the advance of Blucher, which, victorious as he
was, might be instantly expected.
While at Soissons, Napoleon learned that Saint Priest, a French emigrant,
and a general in the Russian service, had occupied Rheims, remarkable for
the venerable cathedral in which the kings of France were crowned.
Napoleon instantly saw that the possession of Rheims would renew the
communication betwixt Schwartzenberg and Blucher, besides neutralizing
the advantages which he himself expected from the possession of Soissons.
He moved from Soissons to Rheims, where, after an attack which lasted till
late in the night, the Russian general being wounded, his followers were
discouraged, and evacuated the place. The utmost horrors might have been
expected during a night attack, when one army forced another from a
considerable town. But in this instance we have the satisfaction to record,
that the troops on both sides behaved in a most orderly manner.[4] In his
account of the previous action, Napoleon threw in one of those strokes of
fatality which he loved to introduce. He endeavoured to persuade the
public, or perhaps he himself believed, that Saint Priest was shot by a ball
from the same cannon which killed Moreau.[5]
During the attack upon Rheims, Marmont came up with such forces as he
had been able to rally after his defeat at Athies, and contributed to the
success of the assault. He was, nevertheless, received by Napoleon with
bitter reproaches, felt severely by a chief, of whose honour and talents no
doubt had been expressed through a long life of soldiership.

Napoleon remained at Rheims three days, to repose and recruit his shattered
army, which was reinforced from every quarter where men could be
collected. Janssens, a Dutch officer, displayed a particular degree of
military talent in bringing a body of about 4000 men, draughted from the
garrisons of the places on the Moselle, to join the army at Rheims; a
movement of great difficulty, considering he had to penetrate through a
country which was in a great measure possessed by the enemy's troops.[6]
The halt of Napoleon at Rheims was remarkable, as affording the last
means of transacting business with his civil ministers. Hitherto, an auditor
of the council of state had weekly brought to the Imperial headquarters the
report of the ministers, and received the orders of the Emperor.[7] But a
variety of causes rendered this regular communication during the rest of the
campaign, a matter of impossibility. At Rheims, also, Napoleon addressed
to Caulaincourt, a letter, dated 17th March, by which he seems to have
placed it in the power of that plenipotentiary to comply in full with the
terms of the allies. But the language in which it is couched is so far from
bearing the precise warrant necessary for so important a concession, that
there must remain a doubt whether Caulaincourt would have felt justified in
acting upon it, or whether so acting, Napoleon would have recognised his
doing so, if circumstances had made it convenient for him to disown the
treaty.[8]
While Napoleon was pursuing, fighting with, and
OUDINOT AND finally defeated by Blucher, his lieutenant-generals
GERARD.
were not more fortunate in front of the allied grand
army. It will be recollected that the Maréchals Oudinot and Gerard were left
at the head of 25,000 men exclusive of the separate corps under Macdonald,
with orders to possess themselves of the heights of Bar-sur-Aube, and
prevent Schwartzenberg from crossing that river. They made the movement
in advance accordingly, and after a sharp action, which left the town in their
possession, they were so nigh to the allied troops, who still held the
suburbs, that a battle became unavoidable, and the maréchals had no choice
save of making the attack, or of receiving it. They chose the former, and
gained at first some advantages from the very audacity of their attempt; but
the allies had now been long accustomed to stand their ground under greater
disasters. Their numerous reserves were brought up, and their long train of
artillery got into line. The French, after obtaining a temporary footing on

the heights of Vernonfait, were charged and driven back in disorder. Some
fine cavalry, which had been brought from the armies in Spain, was
destroyed by the overpowering cannonade. The French were driven across
the Aube, the town of Bar-sur-Aube was taken, and the defeated maréchals
could only rally their forces at the village of Vandœuvres, about half-way
between Bar and Troyes.
The defeat of Oudinot and Gerard obliged Maréchal Macdonald, who
defended the line of the river above Bar, to retreat to Troyes, from his
strong position at La Ferté-sur-Aube. He therefore fell back towards
Vandœuvres. But though these three distinguished generals, Macdonald,
Oudinot, and Gerard, had combined their talents, and united their forces, it
was impossible for them to defend Troyes, and they were compelled to
retreat upon the great road to Paris. Thus, the headquarters of the allied
monarchs were, for the second time during this changeful war, established
in the ancient capital of Champagne; and the allied grand army recovered,
by the victory of Bar-sur-Aube, all the territory which they had yielded up
in consequence of Buonaparte's success at Montereau. They once more
threatened to descend the Seine upon Paris, being entitled to despise any
opposition offered by a feeble line, which Macdonald, Oudinot, and Gerard,
endeavoured to defend on the left bank.
But Schwartzenberg's confidence in his position was lowered, when he
heard that Napoleon had taken Rheims; and that, on the evening of the 17th,
Ney, with a large division, had occupied Chalons-sur-Marne. This
intelligence made a deep impression on the Austrian council of war. Their
tactics being rigidly those of the old school of war, they esteemed their
army turned whenever a French division occupied such a post as interposed
betwixt them and their allies. This, indeed, is in one sense true; but it is
equally true, that every division so interposed is itself liable to be turned, if
the hostile divisions betwixt which it is interposed take combined measures
for attacking it. The catching, therefore, too prompt an alarm, or
considering the consequences of such a movement as irretrievable, belongs
to the pedantry of war, and not to its science.
At midnight a council was held for the purpose of determining the future
motions of the allies. The generalissimo recommended a retreat behind the
line of the Aube. The Emperor Alexander opposed this with great

steadiness. He observed, with justice, that the protracted war was driving
the country people to despair, and that the peasantry were already taking up
arms, while the allies only wanted resolution, certainly neither opportunity
nor numbers, to decide the affair by a single blow.
So many were the objections stated, and so difficult was it to bring the
various views and interests of so many powers to coincide in the same
general plan, that the Emperor informed one of his attendants, he thought
the anxiety of the night must have turned half his hair grey. Lord
Castlereagh was against the opinion of Schwartzenberg, the rather that he
concluded that a retreat behind the Aube would be a preface to one behind
the Rhine. Taking it upon him, as became the Minister of Britain at such a
crisis, he announced to the allied powers, that, so soon as they should
commence the proposed retreat, the subsidies of England would cease to be
paid to them.[9]
It was, therefore, finally agreed to resume offensive
THE MARCH UPON operations, for which purpose they proposed to
PARIS.
diminish the distance betwixt the allied grand army
and that of Silesia, and resume such a communication with Blucher as
might prevent the repetition of such disasters as those of Montmirail and
Montereau. With this view it was determined to descend the Aube, unite
their army at Arcis, offer Napoleon battle, should he desire to accept it, or
move boldly on Paris if he should refuse the proffered action. What
determined them more resolutely, from this moment, to approach the capital
as soon as possible, was the intelligence which arrived at the headquarters
by Messieurs de Polignac.[10] These gentlemen brought an encouraging
account of the progress of the Royalists in the metropolis, and of the
general arrangements which were actively pursued for uniting with the
interests of the Bourbons that of all others, who, from dislike to
Buonaparte's person and government, or fear that the country, and they
themselves, must share in his approaching ruin, were desirous to get rid of
the Imperial government. Talleyrand was at the head of the confederacy,
and all were resolved to embrace the first opportunity of showing
themselves, which the progress of the allies should permit. This important
intelligence, coming from such unquestionable authority, strengthened the
allies in their resolution to march upon Paris.

In the meantime, Napoleon being at Rheims, as stated, on the 15th and 16th
March, was alarmed by the news of the loss of the battle of Bar, the retreat
of the three maréchals beyond the Seine, and the demonstrations of the
grand army to cross that river once more. He broke up, as we have seen,
from Rheims on the 17th, and sending Ney to take possession of Chalons,
marched himself to Epernay, with the purpose of placing himself on the
right flank, and in the rear of Schwartzenberg, in case he should advance on
the road to Paris. At Epernay, he learned that the allies, alarmed by his
movements, had retired to Troyes, and that they were about to retreat upon
the Aube, and probably to Langres. He also learned that the maréchals,
Macdonald and Oudinot, had resumed their advance so soon as their
adversaries began to retreat. He hastened to form a junction with these
persevering leaders, and proceeded to ascend the Aube as high as Bar,
where he expected to throw himself into Schwartzenberg's rear, having no
doubt that his army was retiring from the banks of the Aube.
In these calculations, accurate as far as the information permitted,
Buonaparte was greatly misled. He conceived himself to be acting upon the
retreat of the allies, and expected only to find a rear-guard at Arcis; he was
even talking jocularly of making his father-in-law prisoner during his
retreat. If, contrary to his expectation, he should find the enemy, or any
considerable part of them, still upon the Aube, it was, from all he had heard,
to be supposed his appearance would precipitate their retreat towards the
frontier. It has also been asserted, that he expected Maréchal Macdonald to
make a corresponding advance from the banks of the Seine to those of the
Aube; but the orders had been received too late to admit of the necessary
space being traversed so as to arrive on the morning of the day of battle.
Napoleon easily drove before him such bodies of light cavalry, and sharp-
shooters, as had been left by the allies, rather for the purpose of
reconnoitring than of making serious opposition. He crossed the Aube at
Plancey, and moved upwards along the left bank of the river, with Ney's
corps, and his whole cavalry, while the infantry of his guard advanced upon
the right; his army being thus, according to the French military phrase, à
cheval upon the Aube. The town of Arcis had been evacuated by the allies
upon his approach, and was occupied by the French on the morning of the
20th March. That town forms the outlet of a sort of defile, where a
succession of narrow bridges cross a number of drains, brooks, and

streamlets, the feeders of the river Aube, and a bridge in the town crosses
the river itself. On the other side of Arcis is a plain, in which some few
squadrons of cavalry, resembling a reconnoitring party, were observed
manœuvring.
Behind these horse, at a place called Clermont, the Prince Royal of
Wirtemberg, whose name has been so often honourably mentioned, was
posted with his division, while the elite of the allied army was drawn up on
a chain of heights still farther in the rear, called Mesnil la Comtesse. But
these forces were not apparent to the vanguard of Napoleon's army. The
French cavalry had orders to attack the light troops of the allies; but these
were instantly supported by whole regiments, and by cannon, so that the
attack was unsuccessful; and the squadrons of the French were repulsed and
driven back on Arcis at a moment, when, from the impediments in the town
and its environs, the infantry could with difficulty debouche from the town
to support them. Napoleon showed, as he always did in extremity, the same
heroic courage which he had exhibited at Lodi and Brienne. He drew his
sword, threw himself among the broken cavalry, called on them to
remember their former victories, and checked the enemy by an impetuous
charge, in which he and his staff-officers fought hand to hand with their
opponents, so that he was in personal danger from the lance of a Cossack,
the thrust of which was averted by his aide-de-camp, Girardin. His
Mameluke Rustan fought stoutly by his side, and received a gratuity for his
bravery. These desperate exertions afforded time for the infantry to
debouche from the town. The Imperial Guards came up, and the combat
waxed very warm. The superior numbers of the allies rendered them the
assailants on all points. A strongly situated village in front, and somewhat to
the left of Arcis, called Grand Torcy, had been occupied by the French. This
place was repeatedly and desperately attacked by the allies, but the French
made good their position. Arcis itself was set on fire by the shells of the
assailants, and night alone separated the combatants, by inducing the allies
to desist from the attack.
In the course of the night, Buonaparte was joined by Macdonald, Oudinot,
and Gerard, with the forces with which they had lately held the defensive
upon the Seine; and the anxious question remained, whether, thus
reinforced, he should venture an action with the grand army, to which he
was still much inferior in numbers. Schwartzenberg, agreeably to the last

resolution of the allies, drew up on the heights of Mesnil la Comtesse,
prepared to receive battle. On consideration of the superior strength of the
enemy, and of the absence of some troops not yet come up, Napoleon
finally determined not to accept a battle under such disadvantageous
circumstances. He therefore commenced a retreat, the direction of which
was doomed to prove the crisis of his fate. He retired as he had advanced,
along both sides of the Aube; and though pursued and annoyed in this
movement (which was necessarily executed through Arcis and all its
defiles,) his rear-guard was so well conducted, that he sustained little loss.
A late author,[11] who has composed an excellent and scientific work on this
campaign, has remarked—"In concluding the account of the two days thus
spent by the contending armies in presence of each other, it is equally
worthy of remark, that Buonaparte, with a force not exceeding 25,000 or
30,000 men, should have risked himself in such a position in front of
80,000 of the allies, as that the latter should have allowed him to escape
them with impunity." The permitting him to retreat with so little annoyance
has been censured in general by all who have written on this campaign.[12]

CHAPTER LXXVI.
Plans of Buonaparte—Military and Political Questions
regarding Paris—Napoleon crosses the Marne on 22d March—
Retrospect of Events in the vicinity of Lyons, &c.—Defeats of the
French in various quarters—Marmont and Mortier retreat
under the walls of Paris—Joseph Buonaparte—Maria Louisa,
with the Civil Authorities, leave the City—Attack of Paris on the
30th—A Truce accorded—Joseph flies.
The decline of Napoleon's waning fortunes having
PLANS OF been such, as to turn him aside from an offered field
BUONAPARTE.
of battle, and to place him betwixt two armies, each
superior in number to his own, called now for a speedy and decisive
resolution.
The manœuvres of Schwartzenberg and Blucher tended evidently to form a
junction; and when it is considered that Buonaparte had felt it necessary to
retreat from the army of Silesia before Laon, and from the grand army
before Arcis, it would have been frenzy to wait till they both closed upon
him. Two courses, therefore, remained;—either to draw back within the
closing circle which his enemies were about to form around him, and,
retreating before them until he had collected his whole forces, make a stand
under the walls of Paris, aided by whatever strength that capital possessed,
and which his energies could have called out; or, on the contrary, to march
eastward, and breaking through the same circle, to operate on the rear of the
allies, and on their lines of communication. This last was a subject on which
the Austrians had expressed such feverish anxiety, as would probably
immediately induce them to give up all thoughts of advancing, and march
back to the frontier. Such a result was the rather to be hoped, because the
continued stay of the allies, and the passage and repassage of troops through
an exhausted country, had worn out the patience of the hardy peasantry of
Alsace and Franche Comté, whom the exactions and rapine, inseparable
from the movements of a hostile soldiery, had now roused from the apathy
with which they had at first witnessed the invasion of their territory. Before

Lyons, Napoleon might reckon on being reinforced by the veteran army of
Suchet, arrived from Catalonia; and he would be within reach of the
numerous chain of fortresses, which had garrisons strong enough to form an
army, if drawn together.
The preparations for arranging such a force, and for arming the peasantry,
had been in progress for some time. Trusty agents, bearing orders concealed
in the sheaths of their knives, the collars of their dogs, or about their
persons, had been detached to warn the various commandants of the
Emperor's pleasure. Several were taken by the blockading troops of the
allies, and hanged as spies, but others made their way. While at Rheims,
Buonaparte had issued an order for rousing the peasantry, in which he not
only declared their arising in arms was an act of patriotic duty, but
denounced as traitors the mayors of the districts who should throw
obstructions in the way of a general levy. The allies, on the contrary,
threatened the extremity of military execution on all the peasantry who
should obey Napoleon's call to arms. It was, as we formerly observed, an
excellent exemplification, how much political opinions depend on
circumstances; for, after the second capture of Vienna, the Austrians were
calling out the levy-en-masse, and Napoleon, in his turn, was threatening to
burn the villages, and execute the peasants, who should dare to obey.
While Napoleon was at Rheims, the affairs of the north-east frontier seemed
so promising, that Ney offered to take the command of the insurrectionary
army; and, as he was reckoned the best officer of light troops in Europe, it
is not improbable he might have brought the levies-en-masse on that
warlike border, to have fought like the French national forces in the
beginning of the Revolution. Buonaparte did not yield to this proposal.
Perhaps he thought so bold a movement could only succeed under his own
eye.
But there were two especial considerations which
PARIS. must have made Napoleon hesitate in adopting this
species of back-game, designed to redeem the stake
which it was impossible to save by the ordinary means of carrying on the
bloody play. The one was the military question, whether Paris could be
defended, if Napoleon was to move to the rear of the allied army, instead of
falling back upon the city with the army which he commanded. The other

question was of yet deeper import, and of a political nature. The means of
the capital for defence being supposed adequate, was it likely that Paris, a
town of 700,000 inhabitants, divided into factions unaccustomed to the near
voice of war, and startled by the dreadful novelty of their situation, would
submit to the sacrifices which a successful defence of the city must in every
event have required? Was, in short, their love and fear of Buonaparte so
great, that without his personal presence, and that of his army, to encourage,
and at the same time overawe them, they would willingly incur the risk of
seeing their beautiful metropolis destroyed, and all the horrors of a sack
inflicted by the mass of nations whom Napoleon's ambition had been the
means of combining against them, and who proclaimed themselves the
enemies, not of France, but of Buonaparte?
Neither of these questions could be answered with confidence. Napoleon,
although he had embodied 30,000 national guards, had not provided arms
for a third part of the number. This is hinted at by some authors, as if the
want of these arms ought to be imputed to some secret treason. But this
accusation has never been put in any tangible shape. The arms never
existed, and never were ordered; and although Napoleon had nearly three
months' time allowed him, after his return to Paris, yet he never thought of
arming the Parisians in general. Perhaps he doubted their fidelity to his
cause. He ordered, it is said, 200 cannon to be provided for the defence of
the northern and eastern line of the city, but neither were these obtained in
sufficient quantity. The number of individuals who could be safely intrusted
with arms, was also much limited. Whether, therefore, Paris was, in a
military point of view, capable of defence or not, must have, in every event,
depended much on the strength of the military force left to protect it. This
Napoleon knew must be very moderate. His hopes were therefore
necessarily limited by circumstances, to the belief that Paris, though
incapable of a protracted defence, might yet hold out for such a space as
might enable him to move to its relief.
But, secondly, as the means of holding out Paris were very imperfect, so the
inclination of the citizens to defend themselves at the expense of any
considerable sacrifice, was much doubted. It was not in reason to be
expected that the Parisians should imitate the devotion of Zaragossa. Each
Spanish citizen, on that memorable occasion, had his share of interest in the
war which all maintained—a portion, namely, of that liberty and

independence for which it was waged. But the Parisians were very
differently situated. They were not called on to barricade their streets,
destroy their suburbs, turn their houses into fortresses, and themselves into
soldiers, and expose their property and families to the horrors of a storm;
and this not for any advantage to France or themselves, but merely that they
might maintain Napoleon on the throne. The ceaseless, and of late the
losing wars, in which he seemed irretrievably engaged, had rendered his
government unpopular; and it was plain to all, except perhaps himself, that
he did not stand in that relation to the people of Paris, when citizens are
prepared to die for their sovereign. It might have been as well expected that
the frogs in the fable would, in case of invasion, have risen in a mass to
defend King Serpent. It is probable that Buonaparte did not see this in the
true point of view; but that, with the feelings of self-importance which
sovereigns must naturally acquire from their situation, and which, from his
high actions and distinguished talents, he of all sovereigns, was peculiarly
entitled to indulge—it is probable that he lost sight of the great
disproportion betwixt the nation and an individual; and forgot, amid the
hundreds of thousands which Paris contains, what small relation the number
of his own faithful and devoted followers bore, not only to those who were
perilously engaged in factions hostile to him, but to the great mass, who, in
Hotspur's phrase, loved their own shops or barns better than his house.[13]
Thirdly, the consequences of Paris being lost, either from not possessing, or
not employing, the means of defence, were sure to be productive of
irretrievable calamity. Russia, as had been shown, could survive the
destruction of its capital, and perhaps Great Britain's fate might not be
decided by the capture of London. But the government of France had,
during all the phases of the Revolution, depended upon the possession of
Paris—a capital which has at all times directed the public opinion of that
country. Should the military occupation of this most influential of all
capitals, bring about, as was most likely, a political and internal revolution,
it was greatly to be doubted, whether the Emperor could make an effectual
stand in any other part of his dominions.
It must be candidly admitted, that this reasoning, as being subsequent to the
fact, has a much more decisive appearance than it could have had when
subjected to the consideration of Napoleon. He was entitled, from the
feverish anxiety hitherto shown by the Austrians, upon any approach to

flank movements, and by the caution of their general proceedings, to think,
that they would be greatly too timorous to adopt the bold step of pressing
onward to Paris. It was more likely that they would follow him to the
frontier, with the purpose of preserving their communications. Besides,
Napoleon at this crisis had but a very slender choice of measures. To remain
where he was, between Blucher and Schwartzenberg, was not possible; and,
in advancing to either flank, he must have fought with a superior enemy. To
retreat upon Paris, was sure to induce the whole allies to pursue in the same
direction; and the encouragement which such a retreat must have given to
his opponents, might have had the most fatal consequences. Perhaps his
partisans might have taken more courage during his absence, from the idea
that he was at the head of a conquering army, in the rear of the allies, than
during his actual presence, if he had arrived in Paris in consequence of a
compulsory retreat.
Buonaparte seems, as much from a sort of necessity as from choice, to have
preferred breaking through the circle of hunters which hemmed him in,
trusting to strengthen his army with the garrisons drawn from the frontier
fortresses, and with the warlike peasantry of Alsace and Franche Comté,
and, thus reinforced, to advance with rapidity on the rear of his enemies, ere
they had time to execute, or perhaps to arrange, any system of offensive
operations. The scheme appeared the more hopeful, as he was peremptory
in his belief that his march could not fail to draw after him, in pursuit, or
observation at least, the grand army of Schwartzenberg; the general maxim,
that the war could only be decided where he was present in person, being,
as he conceived, as deeply impressed by experience upon his enemies as
upon his own soldiers.
Napoleon could not disguise from himself, what indeed he had told the
French public, that a march, or, as he termed it, a hourra upon Paris, was
the principal purpose of the allies. Every movement made in advance,
whether by Blucher or Schwartzenberg, had this for its object. But they had
uniformly relinquished the undertaking, upon his making any demonstration
to prevent it; and therefore he did not suspect them of a resolution so
venturous as to move directly upon Paris, leaving the French army
unbroken in their rear, to act upon their line of communication with
Germany. It is remarked, that those chess-players who deal in the most
venturous gambits are least capable of defending themselves when attacked

in the same audacious manner; and that, in war, the generals whose usual
and favourite tactics are those of advance and attack, have been most
frequently surprised by the unexpected adoption of offensive operations on
the part of their enemy. Napoleon had been so much accustomed to see his
antagonists bend their attention rather to parry blows than to aim them, and
was so confident in the dread impressed by his rapidity of movement, his
energy of assault, and the terrors of his reputation, that he seems to have
entertained little apprehension of the allies adopting a plan of operations
which had no reference to his own, and which, instead of attempting to
watch or counteract his movements in the rear of their army, should lead
them straight forward to take possession of his capital. Besides,
notwithstanding objections have been stated, which seemed to render a
permanent defence impossible, there were other considerations to be taken
into view. The ground to the north of Paris is very strong, the national guard
was numerous, the lower part of the population of a military character, and
favourable to his cause. A defence, if resolute, however brief, would have
the double effect of damping the ardour of the assailants, and of detaining
them before the walls of the capital, until Buonaparte should advance to its
relief, and thus place the allies between two fires. It was not to be supposed
that the surrender of Paris would be the work of a single day. The
unanimous voice of the journals, of the ministers of the police, and of the
thousands whose interest was radically and deeply entwisted with that of
Buonaparte, assured their master on that point. The movement to the rear,
therefore, though removing him from Paris, which it might expose to
temporary alarm, might not, in Buonaparte's apprehension, seriously
compromise the security of the capital.
The French Emperor, in executing this decisive movement, was extremely
desirous to have possessed himself of Vitry, which lay in the line of his
advance. But as this town contained a garrison of about 5000 men,
commanded by an officer of resolution, he returned a negative to the
summons; and Napoleon, in no condition to attempt a coup-de-main on a
place of some strength, passed the Marne on the 22d of March, over a
bridge of rafts constructed at Frigincour, and continued his movement
towards the eastern frontier, increasing the distance at every step betwixt
him and his capital, and at the same time betwixt him and his enemies.

In the meantime, events had taken place in the vicinity of Lyons, tending
greatly to limit any advantages which Napoleon might have expected to
reap on the south-eastern part of the frontier towards Switzerland, and also
to give spirits to the numerous enemies of his government in Provence,
where the Royalists always possessed a considerable party.
The reinforcements despatched by the Austrians under General Bianchi, and
their reserves, brought forward by the Prince of Hesse-Homberg, had
restored their superiority over Augereau's army. He was defeated at Macon
on the 11th of March, in a battle which he had given for the purpose of
maintaining his line on the Saone. A second time, he was defeated on the
18th at St. George, and obliged to retire in great disorder, with scarce even
the means of defending the Isère, up which river he retreated. Lyons, thus
uncovered, opened its gates to Bianchi; and, after all that they had heard
concerning the losses of the allies, the citizens saw with astonishment and
alarm an untouched body of their troops, amounting to 60,000 men, defile
through their streets. This defeat of Augereau was probably unknown to
Napoleon, when he determined to march to the frontiers, and thought he
might reckon on co-operation with the Lyonnese army. Though, therefore,
the Emperor's movement to St. Dizier was out of the rules of ordinary war,
and though it enabled the allies to conceive and execute the daring scheme
which put an end to the campaign, yet it was by no means hopeless in its
outset; or, we would rather say, was one of the few alternatives which the
crisis of his affairs left to Buonaparte, and which, judging from the previous
vacillation and cautious timidity displayed in the councils of the allies, he
had no reason to apprehend would have given rise to the consequences that
actually followed.
The allies, who had in their latest councils wound up
THE ALLIES their resolution to the decisive experiment of
ADVANCE.
marching on Paris, were at first at a loss to account
for Napoleon's disappearance, or to guess whither he had gone. This
occasioned some hesitation and loss of time. At length, by the interception
of a French courier, they found despatches addressed by Buonaparte to his
government at Paris, from which they were enabled to conjecture the real
purpose and direction of his march. A letter,[14] in the Emperor's own hand,
to Maria Louisa, confirmed the certainty of the information.[15] The allies
resolved to adhere, under this unexpected change of circumstances, to the

bold resolution they had already formed. To conceal the real direction of his
march, as well as to open communications with the Silesian army,
Schwartzenberg, moving laterally, transferred his headquarters to Vitry,
where he arrived on the 24th, two days after it had been summoned by
Napoleon. Blucher, in the meantime, approached his army from Laon to
Chalons, now entirely re-organised after the two bloody battles which it had
sustained. As a necessary preparation for the advance, General Ducca was
left on the Aube, with a division of Austrians, for the purpose of defending
their depôts, keeping open their communications, and guarding the person
of the Emperor Francis, who did not perhaps judge it delicate to approach
Paris in arms, with the rest of the sovereigns, while the city was nominally
governed by his own daughter as Regent. Ducca had also in charge, if
pressed, to retreat upon the Prince of Hesse-Homberg's army, which was in
triumphant possession of Lyons.
This important arrangement being made, another was adopted equally
necessary to deceive and observe Napoleon. Ten thousand cavalry were
selected, under the enterprising generals, Winzengerode and Czernicheff,
who, with fifty pieces of cannon, were despatched to hang on Buonaparte's
march, to obstruct his communications with the country he had left,
intercept couriers from Paris, or information respecting the motions of the
allied armies, and to present on all occasions such a front, as, if possible,
might impress him with the belief, that their corps formed the vanguard of
the whole army of Schwartzenberg. The Russian and Prussian light troops
meanwhile scoured the roads, and intercepted, near Sommepuix, a convoy
of artillery and ammunition belonging to Napoleon's rear-guard, when
twenty pieces of cannon, with a strong escort, fell into their hands. They
also cut off several couriers, bringing important despatches to Napoleon
from Paris. One of these was loaded with as heavy tidings as ever were
destined to afflict falling greatness. This packet informed Napoleon of the
descent of the English in Italy; of the entry of the Austrians into Lyons, and
the critical state of Augereau; of the declaration of Bourdeaux in favour of
Louis; of the demonstrations of Wellington towards Toulouse; of the
disaffected state of the public mind, and the exhausted condition of the
national resources. Much of these tidings was new to the allied sovereigns
and generals; but it was received by them with very different sensations

from those which the intelligence was calculated to inflict upon him for
whom the packet was intended.
Blucher, in the meantime, so soon as he felt the opposition to his
movements diminished by the march of Buonaparte from Chalons to Arcis,
had instantly resumed the offensive, and driven the corps of Mortier and
Marmont, left to observe his motions, over the Marne. He passed the Aisne,
near Béry-le-Bac, repossessed himself of Rheims by blowing open the gates
and storming the place, and, having gained these successes, moved towards
Chalons and Vitry. His course had hitherto been south-eastward, in order to
join with Schwartzenberg; but he now received from the King of Prussia the
welcome order to turn his march westward, and move straight upon Paris.
The grand army adopted the same direction, and thus they moved on in
corresponding lines, and in communication with each other.
While Buonaparte, retiring to the east, prepared for throwing himself on the
rear of the allies, he was necessarily, in person, exposed to the same risk of
having his communications cut off, and his supplies intercepted, which it
was the object of his movement to inflict upon his enemy. Marmont and
Mortier, who retreated before Blucher over the Marne, had orders to move
upon Vitry, probably because that movement would have placed them in the
rear of Schwartzenberg, had he been induced to retreat from the line of the
Aube, as Napoleon expected he would. But as a very different course had
been adopted by the allies, from that which Napoleon had anticipated, the
two maréchals found themselves unexpectedly in front of their grand army
near Fère-Champenoise. They were compelled to attempt a retreat to
Sezanne, in which, harassed by the numerous cavalry of the allies, they
sustained heavy loss.
While the cavalry were engaged in pursuit of the maréchals, the infantry of
the allies were approaching the town of Fère-Champenoise, when a heavy
fire was heard in the vicinity, and presently appeared a large column of
infantry, advancing checker-wise and by intervals, followed and repeatedly
charged by several squadrons of cavalry, who were speedily recognised as
belonging to the Silesian army. The infantry, about 5000 in number, had left
Paris with a large convoy of provisions and ammunition. They were
proceeding towards Montmirail, when they were discovered and attacked
by the cavalry of Blucher's army. Unable to make a stand, they

endeavoured, by an alteration of their march, to reach Fère-Champenoise,
where they expected to find either the Emperor, or Marmont and Mortier. It
was thus their misfortune to fall upon Scylla in seeking to avoid Charybdis.
The column consisted entirely of young men, conscripts, or national guards,
who had never before been in action. Yet, neither the necessity of their
condition, nor their unexpected surprise in meeting first one, and then a
second army of enemies, where they looked only for friends, could induce
these spirited young men to surrender. Rappatel, the aide-de-camp of
Moreau, and entertained in the same capacity by the Emperor Alexander,
was shot, while attempting, by the orders of the Emperor, to explain to them
the impossibility of resistance. The French say, that the brother of Rappatel
served in the company from which the shot came which killed the
unfortunate officer. The artillery at length opened on the French on every
side; they were charged by squadron after squadron; the whole convoy was
taken, and the escort were killed, wounded, or made prisoners.[16]
Thus the allies continued to advance upon Paris,
ALLIES APPROACH while the shattered divisions of Mortier and Marmont,
PARIS.
hard pressed by the cavalry, lost a rear-guard of 1500
men near Ferté Gauchère. At Crecy they parted into two bodies, one
retreating on Meaux, the other on Lagny. They were still pursued and
harassed; and at length, the soldiers becoming desperate, could hardly be
kept together, while the artillerymen cut the traces of their guns, and
mounted their draught-horses, to effect their escape. It is computed that the
French divisions, between Fère-Champenoise and Lagny, lost 8000 men,
and eighty guns, besides immense quantities of baggage and ammunition.
Indeed, surrounded as they were by overpowering numbers, it required no
little skill in the generals, as well as bravery and devotion in the soldiers, to
keep the army from dissolving entirely. The allies, gaining advantages at
every step, moved on with such expedition, that when, on the 27th March,
they took up their headquarters at Collomiers, they had marched upwards of
seventy miles in three days.
An effort was made, by about 10,000 men of the national guards, to stop a
column of the army of Silesia, but it totally failed; General Horne galloping
into the very centre of the French mass of infantry, and making prisoner the
general who commanded them with his own hand. When Blucher
approached Meaux, the garrison (a part of Mortier's army) retreated,

blowing up a large powder magazine. This was on the 28th of March, and
on the evening of the same day, the vanguard of the Silesian army pushed
on as far as Claye, from whence, not without a sharp action, they dislodged
a part of the divisions of Marmont and Mortier. These maréchals now
retreated under the walls of Paris, their discouraged and broken forces
forming the only regular troops, excepting those of the garrison, which
could be reckoned on for the defence of the capital.
The allied armies moved onward, on the same grand point, leaving,
however, Generals Wrede and Sacken, with a corps d'armée of 30,000 men,
upon the line of the Marne, to oppose any attempt which might be made for
annoying the rear of the army, and thus relieving the metropolis.
Deducing this covering army, the rest of the allied forces moved in columns
along the three grand routes of Meaux, Lagny, and Soissons, thus
threatening Paris along all its north-eastern quarter. The military sovereigns
and their victorious armies were now in sight of that metropolis, whose
ruler and his soldiers had so often and so long lorded it in theirs; of that
Paris, which, unsatisfied with her high rank among the cities of Europe, had
fomented constant war until all should be subjugated to her empire; of that
proud city, who boasted herself the first in arms and in science, the mistress
and example of the civilized world, the depositary of all that is wonderful in
the fine arts, and the dictatress as well of taste as of law to continental
Europe.
The position of Paris, on the north-eastern frontier,
PARIS. which was thus approached, is as strongly defensible,
perhaps, as can be said of any unfortified town in the
world. Art, however, had added little to the defence of the city itself, except
a few wretched redoubts (called by the French tambours,) erected for
protection of the barriers. But the external line was very strong, as will
appear from the following sketch. The heights which environ the city on the
eastern side, rise abruptly from an extensive plain, and form a steep and
narrow ridge, which sinks again as suddenly upon the eastern quarter of the
town, which it seems to screen as with a natural bulwark. The line of
defence which they afford is extremely strong. The southern extremity of
the ridge, which rests upon the wood of Vincennes, extending southward to
the banks of the river Marne, is called the heights of Belleville and

Romainville, taking its name from two delightful villages which occupy it,
Belleville being nearest, and Romainville most distant from Paris. The
heights are covered with romantic groves, and decorated by many pleasant
villas, with gardens, orchards, vineyards, and plantations. These, which, in
peaceful times, are a favourite resort of the gay Parisians, on their parties of
pleasure, were now to be occupied by other guests, and for far different
purposes. In advance of these heights, and protected by them, is the village
of Pantin, situated on the great road from Bondy. To the left of Romainville,
and more in front of Belleville, is a projecting eminence, termed the Butte
de Saint Chaumont. The ridge there sinks, and admits a half-finished
aqueduct, called the canal de l'Ourcq. The ground then again rises into the
bold and steep eminence, called Montmartre, from being the supposed place
of the martyrdom of St. Denis, the patron of France. From the declivity of
this steep hill is a level plain, extending to the river Seine, through which
runs the principal northern approach to Paris, from the town of Saint Denis.
The most formidable preparations had been made for maintaining this
strong line of defence, behind which the city lay sheltered. The extreme
right of the French forces occupied the wood of Vincennes, and the village
of Charenton upon the Marne, and was supported by the troops stationed on
the heights of Belleville, Romainville, and on the Butte de Chaumont,
which composed the right wing. Their centre occupied the line formed by
the half-finished canal de l'Ourcq, was defended by the village of La
Villette, and a strong redoubt on the farm of Rouvroi, mounted with
eighteen heavy guns, and by the embankments of the canal, and still farther
protected by a powerful artillery planted in the rear, on the heights of
Montmartre. The left wing was thrown back from the village called
Monceaux, near the north-western extremity of the heights, and prolonged
itself to that of Neuilly, on the Seine, which was strongly occupied by the
extreme left of their army. Thus, with the right extremity of the army resting
upon the river Marne, and the left upon the Seine, the French occupied a
defensive semicircular line, which could not be turned, the greater part of
which was posted on heights of uncommon steepness, and the whole
defended by cannon, placed with the utmost science and judgment, but very
deficient in point of numbers.
The other side of Paris is almost defenceless; but, in order to have attacked
it on that side, the allies must have previously crossed the Seine; an

operation successfully practised in the following year, but which at that
period, when their work, to be executed at all, must be done suddenly, they
had no leisure to attempt, considering the great probability of Napoleon's
coming up in their rear, recalled by the danger of the capital. They were
therefore compelled to prefer a sudden and desperate attack upon the
strongest side of the city, to the slower, though more secure measure of
turning the formidable line of defence which we have endeavoured to
describe.
Three times, since the allies crossed the Rhine, the capital of France had
been menaced by the approach of troops within twenty miles of the city, but
it had uniformly been delivered by the active and rapid movements of
Napoleon. Encouraged by this recollection, the citizens, without much
alarm, heard, for the fourth time, that the Cossacks had been seen at Meaux.
Stifled rumours, however, began to circulate, that the divisions of Marmont
and Mortier had sustained severe loss, and were in full retreat on the
capital; a fact speedily confirmed by the long train of wounded who entered
the barriers of the city, with looks of consternation and words of
discouragement. Then came crowds of peasants, flying they knew not
whither, before an enemy whose barbarous rapacity had been so long the
theme of every tongue, bringing with them their half-naked and half-starved
families, their teams, their carts, and such of their herds and household
goods as they could remove in haste. These unfortunate fugitives crowded
the Boulevards of Paris, the usual resort of the gay world, adding, by
exaggerated and contradictory reports, to the dreadful ideas which the
Parisians already conceived of the approaching storm.
The government, chiefly directed by Joseph Buonaparte, in the name of his
sister-in-law Maria Louisa, did all they could to encourage the people, by
exaggerating their means of defence, and maintaining with effrontery, that
the troops which approached the capital, composed but some isolated
column which by accident straggled towards Paris, while the Emperor was
breaking, dividing, and slaughtering, the gross of the confederated army.
The light could not be totally shut out, but such rays as were admitted were
highly coloured with hope, having been made to pass through the medium
of the police and public papers. A grand review of the troops destined for
the defence of the capital was held upon the Sunday preceding the assault.
Eight thousand troops of the line, being the garrison of Paris, under Gerard,

and 30,000 national guards, commanded by Hulin, governor of the city,
passed in order through the stately court of the Tuileries, followed by their
trains of artillery, their corps of pioneers, and their carriages for baggage
and ammunition. This was an imposing and encouraging spectacle, until it
was remembered that these forces were not designed to move out to distant
conquest, the destination of many hundreds of thousands which in other
days had been paraded before that palace; but that they were the last hope
of Paris, who must defend all that she contained by a battle under her walls.
The remnants of Marmont and Mortier's corps d'armée made no part of this
parade. Their diminished battalions, and disordered state of equipment,
were ill calculated to inspire courage into the public mind. They were
concentrated and stationed on the line of defence already described, beyond
the barriers of the city. But the maréchals themselves entered Paris, and
gave their assistance to the military councils of Joseph Buonaparte.
Preparations were made by the government to remove beyond the Loire, or
at least in that direction. Maria Louisa had none of the spirit of an Amazon,
though graced with all the domestic virtues. She was also placed painfully
in the course of a war betwixt her husband and father. Besides, she obeyed,
and probably with no lack of will, Napoleon's injunctions to leave the
capital, if danger should approach. She left Paris,[17] therefore, with her son,
who is said to have shown an unwillingness to depart, which, in a child,
seemed to have something ominous in it.[18] Almost all the civil authorities
of Buonaparte's government left the city at the same time, after destroying
the private records of the high police, and carrying with them the crown
jewels, and much of the public treasure. Joseph Buonaparte remained,
detaining with him, somewhat, it is said, against his inclination,
Cambacérès, the chancellor of the Emperor, whom, though somewhat too
unwieldy for the character, Napoleon had, in one of his latest councils,
threatened with the honours and dangers of the Colonelcy of a battalion.
Joseph himself had the talents of an accomplished man, and an amiable
member of society, but they do not seem to have been of a military
description. He saw his sister-in-law depart, attended by a regiment of
seven hundred men, whom some writers have alleged had been better
employed in the defence of the city; forgetting of what importance it was to
Napoleon, that the person of the Empress should be protected alike against
a roving band of Hulans, or Cossacks, or the chance of some civic mutiny.

These arrangements being made, Joseph published, on the morning of the
29th, a proclamation, assuring the citizens of Paris, that "he would remain
with them;" he described the enemy as a single straggling column which
had approached from Meaux, and required them by a brief and valorous
resistance to sustain the honour of the French name, until the arrival of the
Emperor, who, he assured the Parisians, was on full march to their succour.
[19]

Between three and four o'clock on the next eventful morning, the drums
beat to arms, and the national guards assembled in force. But of the
thousands which obeyed the call, a great part were, from age, habits, and
want of inclination, unfit for the service demanded from them. We have also
already alluded to the scarcity of arms, and certainly there were very many
of those citizen-soldiers, whom, had weapons been more plenty, the
government of Buonaparte would not have intrusted with them.
Most of the national guards, who were suitably armed, were kept within the
barrier until about eleven o'clock, and then, as their presence became
necessary, were marched to the scene of action, and arrayed in a second line
behind the regular troops, so as rather to impose upon the enemy, by an
appearance of numbers, than to take a very active share in the contest. The
most serviceable were, however, draughted to act as sharp-shooters, and
several battalions were stationed to strengthen particular points of the line.
The whole of the troops, including many volunteers, who actively engaged
in the defence of the city, might be between 10,000 and 20,000.
The proposed assault of the allies was to be general and simultaneous, along
the whole line of defence. The Prince Royal of Wirtemberg was to attack
the extreme right of the French, in the wood of Vincennes, drive them from
the banks of the Marne and the village of Charenton, and thus turn the
heights of Belleville. The Russian general, Rayefski, making a flank
movement from the public road to Meaux, was to direct three strong
columns, with their artillery and powerful reserves, in order to attack in
front the important heights of Belleville and Romainville, and the villages
which give name to them. The Russian and Prussian body-guards had
charge to attack the centre of the enemy, posted upon the canal de l'Ourcq,
the reserves of which occupied the eminence called Montmartre. The army
of Silesia was to assail the left of the French line, so as to turn and carry the

heights of Montmartre from the north-east. The third division of the allied
army, and a strong body of cavalry, were kept in reserve. Before the attack
commenced, two successive flags of truce were despatched to summon the
city to capitulate. Both were refused admittance; so that the intention of the
defenders of Paris appeared fixed to hazard an engagement.
It was about eight o'clock, when the Parisians, who had assembled in
anxious crowds at the barriers of St. Denis and of Vincennes, the outlets
from Paris, corresponding with the two extremities of the line, became
sensible, from the dropping succession of musket shots, which sounded like
the detached pattering of large drops of rain before a thunder-storm, that the
work of destruction was already commenced. Presently platoons of
musketry, with a close and heavy fire of cannon, from the direction of
Belleville, announced that the engagement had become general on that part
of the line.
General Rayefski had begun the attack by pushing
BELLEVILLE— forward a column, with the purpose of turning the
MESNILMONTANT.
heights of Romainville on the right; but its progress
having been arrested by a heavy fire of artillery, the French suddenly
became the assailants, and under the command of Marmont, rushed forward
and possessed themselves of the village of Pantin,[20] in advance of their
line; an important post, which they had abandoned on the preceding
evening, at the approach of the allied army. It was instantly recovered by
the Russian grenadiers, at the point of the bayonet; and the French, although
they several times attempted to resume the offensive, were driven back by
the Russians on the villages of Belleville and Mesnilmontant, while the
allies pushed forward through the wood of Romainville, under the acclivity
of the heights. The most determined and sustained fire was directed upon
them from the French batteries along the whole line. Several of these were
served by the youths of the Polytechnic school, boys from twelve to sixteen
years of age, who showed the greatest activity and the most devoted
courage. The French infantry rushed repeatedly in columns from the
heights, where opportunities occurred to check the progress of the allies.
They were as often repulsed by the Russians, each new attempt giving rise
to fresh conflicts and more general slaughter, while a continued and
dispersed combat of sharpshooters took place among the groves, vineyards,
and gardens of the villas, with which the heights are covered. At length, by

order of General de Tolli, the Russian commander-in-chief, the front attack
on the heights was suspended until the operations of the allies on the other
points should permit it to be resumed at a cheaper risk of loss. The Russian
regiments which had been dispersed as sharpshooters, were withdrawn, and
again formed in rank, and it would seem that the French seized this
opportunity to repossess themselves of the village of Pantin, and to assume
a momentary superiority in the contest.
Blucher had received his orders late in the morning, and could not
commence the attack so early as that upon the left. About eleven o'clock,
having contented himself with observing and blockading a body of French
troops, who occupied the village of St. Denis, he directed the columns of
General Langeron against the village of Aubervilliers, and, having
surmounted the obstinate opposition which was there made, moved them by
the road of Clichy, right against the extremity of the heights of Montmartre,
whilst the division of Kleist and D'Yorck marched to attack in flank the
villages of La Villette and Pantin, and thus sustain the attack on the centre
and right of the French. The defenders, strongly intrenched and protected by
powerful batteries, opposed the most formidable resistance, and, as the
ground was broken and impracticable for cavalry, many of the attacking
columns suffered severely. When the divisions of the Silesian army,
commanded by Prince William of Prussia, first came to the assistance of the
original assailants upon the centre, the French concentrated themselves on
the strong post of La Villette, and the farm of Rouvroy, and continued to
offer the most desperate resistance in defence of these points. Upon the
allied left wing the Prussian guards, and those of Baden, threw themselves
with rival impetuosity into the village of Pantin, and carried it at the point
of the bayonet. During these advantages, the Prince Royal of Wirtemberg,
on the extreme left of the allies, had forced his way to Vincennes, and
threatened the right of the French battalions posted at Belleville, as had
been projected in the plan of the attack. General Rayefski renewed the
suspended assault upon these heights in front, when he learned that they
were thus in some measure turned in flank, and succeeded in carrying those
of Romainville, with the village. Marmont and Oudinot in vain attempted a
charge upon the allied troops, who had thus established themselves on the
French line of defence. They were repulsed and pursued by the victors,
who, following up their advantage, possessed themselves successively of

the villages of Belleville and Mesnilmontant, the Butte de St. Chaumont,
and the fine artillery which defended this line.
About the same time the village of Charonne, on the right extremity of the
heights, was also carried, and the whole line of defence occupied by the
right wing of the French fell into possession of the allies. Their light horse
began to penetrate from Vincennes as far as the barriers of Paris, and their
guns and mortars upon the heights were turned upon the city. The centre of
the French army, stationed upon the canal de l'Ourcq, had hitherto stood
firm, protected by the redoubt at Rouvroy, with eighteen heavy pieces of
cannon, and by the village of La Villette, which formed the key of the
position. But the right flank of their line being turned by those troops who
had become possessed of Romainville, the allies overwhelmed this part of
the line also; and, carrying by assault the farm of Rouvroy, with its strong
redoubt, and the village of La Villette, drove the centre of the French back
upon the city. A body of French cavalry attempted to check the advance of
the allied columns, but were repulsed and destroyed by a brilliant charge of
the black hussars of Brandenburgh. Meanwhile, the right wing of the
Silesian army approached close to the foot of Montmartre, and Count
Langeron's corps were preparing to storm this last remaining defensible
post, when a flag of truce appeared, to demand a cessation of hostilities.
It appears that, in the morning, Joseph Buonaparte had shown himself to the
defenders riding along the lines, accompanied by his staff, and had repeated
to all the corps engaged, the assurance that he would live and die with them.
There is reason to think, that if he did not quite credit that such extensive
preparations for assault were made by a single division of the allies, yet he
believed he had to do with only one of their two armies, and not with their
united force. He was undeceived by a person named Peyre, called, by some,
an engineer officer attached to the staff of the Governor of Paris, and, by
others, a superintendent belonging to the corps of firemen in that city.
Peyre, it seems, had fallen into the hands of a party of Cossacks the night
before, and was carried in the morning to the presence of the Emperor
Alexander, at Bondy. In his route, he had an opportunity of calculating the
immense force of the armies now under the walls of Paris. Through the
medium of this officer, the Emperor Alexander explained the intentions of
the allied sovereigns, to allow fair terms to the city of Paris, provided it was
proposed to capitulate ere the barriers were forced; with the corresponding

intimation, that if the defence were prolonged beyond that period, it would
not be in the power either of the Emperor, the King of Prussia, or the allied
generals, to prevent the total destruction of the town.
Mons. Peyre, thus erected into a commissioner and
FALL OF PARIS. envoy of crowned heads, was set at liberty, and with
danger and difficulty found his way into the French
lines, through the fire which was maintained in every direction. He was
introduced to Joseph, to whom he delivered his message, and showed
proclamations to the city of Paris, with which the Emperor Alexander had
intrusted him. Joseph hesitated, at first inclining to capitulate, then pulling
up resolution, and determining to abide the chance of arms. He continued
irresolute, blood flowing fast around him, until about noon, when the
enemy's columns, threatening an attack on Montmartre, and the shells and
bullets from the artillery, which was in position to cover the attempt, flying
fast over the heads of himself and his staff, he sent Peyre to General
Marmont, who acted as commander-in-chief, with permission to the
maréchal to demand a cessation of arms. At the same time, Joseph himself
fled with his whole attendants; thus abandoning the troops, whom his
exhortations had engaged, in the bloody and hopeless resistance of which
he had solemnly promised to partake the dangers.[21] Marmont, with
Moncey, and the other generals who conducted the defence, now saw all
hopes of making it good at an end. The whole line was carried, excepting
the single post of Montmartre, which was turned, and on the point of being
stormed on both flanks, as well as in front; the Prince Royal of Wirtemberg
had occupied Charenton, with its bridge over the Marne, and pushing
forward on the high-road from thence to Paris, his advanced posts were
already skirmishing at the barriers called the Trône; and a party of Cossacks
had been with difficulty repulsed from the faubourg St. Antoine, on which
they made a Hourra. The city of Paris is merely surrounded by an ordinary
wall, to prevent smuggling. The barriers are not much stronger than any
ordinary turnpike gate, and the stockade with which they had been
barricaded, could have been cleared away by a few blows of the pioneers'
axes. Add to this, that the heights commanding the city, Montmartre
excepted, were in complete possession of the enemy; that a bomb or two,
thrown probably to intimidate the citizens, had already fallen in the
faubourg Montmartre, and the chaussée d'Antin; and that it was evident that

any attempt to protract the defence of Paris, must be attended with utter ruin
to the town and its inhabitants. Marshal Marmont, influenced by these
considerations, despatched a flag of truce to General Barclay de Tolli,
requesting a suspension of hostilities, to arrange the terms on which Paris
was to be surrendered. The armistice was granted, on condition that
Montmartre, the only defensible part of the line which the French still
continued to occupy, should be delivered up to the allies. Deputies were
appointed on both sides, to adjust the terms of surrender. These were
speedily settled. The French regular troops were permitted to retire from
Paris unmolested, and the metropolis was next day to be delivered up to the
allied sovereigns, to whose generosity it was recommended.
Thus ended the assault of Paris, after a bloody action, in which the
defenders lost upwards of 4000 in killed and wounded; and the allies, who
had to storm well-defended batteries, redoubts, and intrenchments, perhaps
about twice the number. They remained masters of the line at all points, and
took nearly one hundred pieces of cannon. When night fell, the multiplied
and crowded watch-fires that occupied the whole chain of heights on which
the victors now bivouacked, indicated to the astonished inhabitants of the
French metropolis, how numerous and how powerful were the armies into
whose hands the fate of war had surrendered them.[22]

CHAPTER LXXVII.
State of Parties in Paris—Royalists—Revolutionists—
Buonapartists—Talleyrand—Chateaubriand—Mission to the
Allied Sovereigns—Their answer—Efforts of the Buonapartists
—Feelings of the lowest classes—of the middling ranks—
Neutrality of the National Guard—Growing confidence of the
Royalists—Proclamations and White Cockades—Crowds
assemble at the Boulevards—The Allies are received with shouts
of welcome—Their Army retires to quarters—and the Cossacks
bivouac in the Champs Elysées.
The battle was fought and won; but it remained a high and doubtful
question in what way the victory was to be improved, so as to produce
results of far greater consequence than usually follow from the mere
military occupation of an enemy's capital. While the mass of the inhabitants
were at rest, exhausted by the fatigues and anxieties of the day, many secret
conclaves, on different principles, were held in the city of Paris, upon the
night after the assault. Some of these even yet endeavoured to organise the
means of resistance, and some to find out what modern policy has called a
Mezzo-termine, some third expedient, between the risk of standing by
Napoleon, and that of recalling the banished family.
The only middle mode which could have succeeded, would have been a
regency under the Empress; and Fouché's Memoirs state, that if he had been
in Paris at the time, he might have succeeded in establishing a new order of
things upon such a basis. The assertion may be safely disputed. To Austria
such a plan might have had some recommendations; but to the sovereigns
and statesmen of the other allied nations, the proposal would only have
appeared a device to obtain immediate peace, and keep the throne, as it
were, in commission, that Buonaparte might ascend it at his pleasure.[23]
We have the greatest doubts whether, among the
PARTIES IN PARIS. ancient chiefs of the Revolution, most of whom had,
as hackneyed tools, lost credit in the public eye, both

by want of principle and political inconsistency, there remained any who
could have maintained a popular interest in opposition to that of the
Royalists on the one hand, and the Buonapartists on the other. The few who
remained steady to their democratic principles, Napoleon had discredited
and thrown into the shade; and he had rendered many of the others still
more inefficient, by showing that they were accessible to bribery and to
ambition, and that ancient demagogues could, without much trouble, be
transmuted into supple and obsequious courtiers. Their day of power and
interest was past, and the exaggerated vehemence of their democratic
opinions had no longer any effect on the lower classes, who were in a great
proportion attached to the empire.
The Royalists, on the other hand, had been long combining and extending
their efforts and opinions, which gained, chiefly among the higher orders, a
sort of fashion which those of the democrats had lost. Talleyrand was
acceptable to them as himself noble by birth; and he knew better than any
one how to apply the lever to unfasten the deep foundations of Napoleon's
power. Of his address, though not successful in the particular instance, Las
Cases gives us a curious specimen. Talleyrand desired to sound the opinion
of Decrès, about the time of the crisis of which we are treating. He drew
that minister towards the chimney, and opening a volume of Montesquieu,
said, as if in the tone of an ordinary conversation, "I found a passage here
this morning, which struck me in an extraordinary manner. Here it is, in
such a book and chapter, page so and so: When a prince has raised himself
above all laws, when his tyranny becomes insupportable, there remains
nothing to the oppressed subject except——"
"It is quite enough," said Decrès, placing his hand upon Talleyrand's mouth,
"I will hear no more. Shut your book." And Talleyrand closed the book, as if
nothing remarkable had happened.[24]
An agent of such extraordinary tact was not frequently baffled, in a city, and
at a time, when so many were, from hope, fear, love, hatred, and all the
other strongest passions, desirous, according to the Roman phrase, of a new
state of things. He had been unceasingly active, and eminently successful,
in convincing the Royalists, that the King must purchase the recovery of his
authority by consenting to place the monarchy on a constitutional footing;
and in persuading another class, that the restoration of the Bourbons was the

most favourable chance for the settlement of a free system of government.
Nor did this accomplished politician limit his efforts to those who had
loyalty to be awakened, and a love of liberty to be rekindled, but extended
them through a thousand ramifications, through every class of persons. To
the bold he offered an enterprise requiring courage; to the timid (a
numerous class at the time) he showed the road of safety; to the ambitious,
the prospect of gaining power; to the guilty, the assurance of indemnity and
safety. He had inspired resolution even into the councils of the allies. A note
from him to the Emperor Alexander, in the following words, is said to have
determined that prince to persevere in the march upon Paris. "You venture
nothing," said this laconic billet, "when you may safely venture every thing
—Venture once more."
It is not to be supposed that Talleyrand wrought in this deep intrigue
without active coadjutors. The Abbé de Pradt, whose lively works have so
often given some interest to our pages, was deeply involved in the
transactions of that busy period, and advocated the cause of the Bourbons
against that of his former master. Bournonville and other senators were
engaged in the same cabals.
The Royalists, on their own part, were in the highest
PROCLAMATION OF state of activity, and prepared to use their utmost
THE ALLIES.
exertions to obtain the mastery of the public spirit. At
this most critical moment all was done, by Monsieur de Chateaubriand,
which eloquence could effect, to appeal to the affections, perhaps even the
prejudices of the people, in his celebrated pamphlet, entitled, "Of
Buonaparte and the Bourbons." This vigorous and affecting comparison
between the days when France was in peace and honour under her own
monarchs, contrasted with those in which Europe appeared in arms under
her walls, had been written above a month, and the manuscript was
concealed by Madame de Chateaubriand in her bosom. It was now privately
printed. So was a proclamation by Monsieur, made in the name of his
brother, the late King of France. Finally, in a private assembly of the
principal Royalists, amongst whom were the illustrious names of Rohan,
Rochefoucault, Montmorency, and Noailles, it was resolved to send a
deputation to the allied sovereigns, to learn, if possible, their intention.
Monsieur Douhet, the gentleman intrusted with this communication,
executed his mission at the expense of considerable personal danger, and

returned into Paris with the answer, that the allies had determined to avoid
all appearance of dictating to France respecting any family or mode of
government, and that although they would most joyfully and willingly
acknowledge the Bourbons, yet it could only be in consequence of a public
declaration in their favour. At the same time Monsieur Douhet was
furnished with a proclamation of the allies, signed Schwartzenberg, which,
without mentioning the Bourbons, was powerfully calculated to serve their
cause. It declared the friendly intention of the allies towards France, and
represented the power of the government which now oppressed them, as the
only obstacle to instant peace. The allied sovereigns, it was stated, sought
but to see a salutary government in France, who would cement the friendly
union of all nations. It belonged to the city of Paris to pronounce their
opinion, and accelerate the peace of the world.[25]
Furnished with this important document, which plainly indicated the private
wishes of the allies, the Royalists resolved to make an effort on the morning
of March 31st. It was at first designed they should assemble five hundred
gentlemen in arms; but this plan was prudently laid aside, and they
determined to relinquish all appearance of force, and address the citizens
only by means of persuasion.
In the meantime, the friends of the imperial government were not idle. The
conduct of the lower classes, during the battle on the heights, had assumed
an alarming character. For a time they had listened with a sort of stupified
terror to the distant thunders of the fight, beheld the wounded and fugitives
crowd in at the barriers, and gazed in useless wonder on the hurried march
of troops moving out in haste to reinforce the lines. At length, the numerous
crowds which assembled in the Boulevards and, particularly in the streets
near the Palais Royal, assumed a more active appearance. There began to
emerge from the suburbs and lanes those degraded members of the
community, whose slavish labour is only relieved by coarse debauchery,
invisible for the most part to the more decent classes of society, but whom
periods of public calamity or agitation bring into view, to add to the general
confusion and terror. They gather in times of public danger, as birds of ill
omen and noxious reptiles are said to do at the rising of a tropical hurricane;
and their fellow-citizens look with equal disgust and dread upon faces and
figures, as strange to them as if they had issued from some distant and
savage land. Paris, like every great metropolis, has her share, and more than

her share, of this unwholesome population. It was the frantic convocations
of this class which had at once instigated and carried into effect the
principal horrors of the Revolution, and they seemed now resolved to
signalize its conclusion by the destruction of the capital. Most of these
banditti were under the influence of Buonaparte's police, and were
stimulated by the various arts which his emissaries employed. At one time
horsemen galloped through the crowd, exhorting them to take arms, and
assuring them that Buonaparte had already attacked the rear of the allies.
Again they were told that the King of Prussia was made prisoner, with a
column of 10,000 men. At other times, similar emissaries, announcing that
the allies had entered the suburbs, and were sparing neither sex nor age,
exhorting the citizens, by placards pasted on the walls, to shut their shops,
and prepare to defend their houses.
This invitation to make the last earthly sacrifices in behalf of a military
despot, to which Zaragossa had submitted in defence of her national
independence, was ill received by the inhabitants. A free state has millions
of necks, but a despotic government is in the situation desired by the
Imperial tyrant—it has but one. When it was obvious that the Emperor
Napoleon had lost his ascendency, no shop-keeper in Paris was fool enough
to risk, in his cause, his shop, his family, and his life, or to consent to
measures for preserving the capital, which were to commence by
abandoning to the allied troops, and the scum of their own population, all
that was, to him individually, worth fighting for. The placards we have
mentioned were pulled down, therefore, as fast as they were pasted up; and
there was an evident disposition, on the part of the better class of citizens
and the national guards, to discourage all counsels which tended to
stimulate resistance to the desperate extremity therein recommended.
Nevertheless, the state of the capital continued very alarming, the lower
classes exhibiting alternately the symptoms of panic terror, of fury, and of
despair. They demanded arms, of which a few were distributed to them; and
there is no doubt, that had Napoleon arrived among them in the struggle,
there would have been a dreadful battle, in which Paris, in all probability,
would have shared the fate of Moscow. But when the cannonade ceased,
when the flight of Joseph, and the capitulation of the city became publicly
known, this conflict of jarring passions died away into silence, and the

imperturbable and impassive composure of the national guard maintained
the absolute tranquillity of the metropolis.
On the morning of the 31st, the Royalists were seen in groups in the Place
Louis Quinze, the Garden of the Tuileries, the Boulevards, and other public
places. They distributed the proclamations of the allies, and raised the long-
forgotten cry of Vive le Roi! At first, none save those engaged in the
perilous experiment, durst echo back a signal so dangerous; but by degrees
the crowds increased, the leaders got on horseback, and distributed white
cockades, lilies, and other emblems of loyalty, displaying banners, at the
same time, made out of their own handkerchiefs. The ladies of their party
came to their assistance. The Princess of Leon, Vicomtesse of
Chateaubriand, Comtesse of Choiseuil, and other women of rank, joined the
procession, distributing on all hands the emblems of their party, and tearing
their dress to make white cockades, when the regular stock was exhausted.
The better class of the bourgeois began to catch the flame, and remembered
their old royalist opinions, and by whom they were defeated on the
celebrated day of the Sections, when Buonaparte laid the foundation of his
fame in the discomfiture of the national guard. Whole pickets began to
adopt the white, instead of the three-coloured cockade; yet the voices were
far from unanimous, and, on many points, parties of different principles met
and skirmished together in the streets. But the tendency to discord was
diverted, and the attention of the Parisians, of all classes and opinions,
suddenly fixed upon the imposing and terrible spectacle of the army of the
allies, which now began to enter the city.
The sovereigns had previously received, at the village
ENTRANCE OF THE of Pantin, the magistrates of Paris, and Alexander had
ALLIES.
expressed himself in language still more explicit than
that of their proclamation. He made war, he said, on Napoleon alone; one
who had been his friend, but relinquished that character to become his
enemy, and inflict on his empire great evils. He was not, however, come to
retaliate those injuries, but to make a secure peace with any government
which France might select for herself. "I am at peace," said the Emperor,
"with France, and at war with Napoleon alone."
These gracious expressions were received with the more gratitude by the
citizens of Paris, that they had been taught to consider the Russian prince as

a barbarous and vindictive enemy. The measure of restoring the Bourbons
seemed now to be regarded by almost every one, not particularly connected
with the dynasty of Napoleon, like a haven on the leeward, unexpectedly
open to a tempest-tossed and endangered vessel. There was no loss of
honour in adopting it, since the French received back their own royal family
—there was no compulsion, since they received them upon their own free
choice. They escaped from a great and imminent danger, as if it had been by
a bridge of gold.
An immense crowd filled the Boulevards (a large wide open promenade,
which, under a variety of distinctive names, forms a circuit round the city,)
in order to witness the entrance of the allied sovereigns and their army,
whom, in the succession of four-and-twenty hours, this mutable people
were disposed to regard as friends rather than enemies—a disposition which
increased until it amounted to enthusiasm for the persons of those princes,
against whom a bloody battle had been fought yesterday under the walls of
Paris, in evidence of which mortal strife, there still remained blackening in
the sun the unburied thousands who had fallen on both sides. There was in
this a trait of national character. A Frenchman submits with a good grace,
and apparent or real complaisance, to that which he cannot help; and it is
not the least advantage of his philosophy, that it entitles him afterwards to
plead, that his submission flowed entirely from good-will, and not from
constraint. Many of those who, on the preceding day, were forced to fly
from the heights which defend Paris, thought themselves at liberty next
morning to maintain, that the allies had entered the capital only by their
consent and permission, because they had joined in the plaudits which
accompanied their arrival. To vindicate, therefore, their city from the
disgrace of being entered by force, as well as giving way to the real
enthusiasm which was suddenly inspired by the exchange of the worst evils
which a conquered people have to dread for the promised blessings of an
honourable peace and internal concord, the Parisians received the Emperor
Alexander and the King of Prussia with such general and unremitting
plaudits, as might have accompanied their triumphal entrance into their own
capitals. Even at their first entrance within the barriers, we learn from Sir
Charles Stewart's official despatch,[26] the crowd was already so enormous,
as well as the acclamations so great, that it was difficult to move forward;
but before the monarchs had reached the porte St. Martin to turn on the

Boulevards, there was a moral impossibility of proceeding; all Paris seemed
to be assembled and concentrated in one spot—one spring evidently
directed all their movements. They thronged around the monarchs, with the
most unanimous shouts of "Vive l'Empereur Alexandre!—Vive le Roi de
Prusse!" mingled with the loyal exclamations, "Vive le Roi!—Vive Louis
XVIII.!—Vivent les Bourbons!" To such unexpected unanimity might be
applied the words of Scripture, quoted by Clarendon on a similar occasion
—"God had prepared the people, for the thing was done suddenly." The
procession lasted several hours, during which 50,000 chosen troops of the
Silesian and grand army filed along the Boulevards in broad and deep
columns, exhibiting a whole forest of bayonets, mingled with long trains of
artillery, and preceded by numerous regiments of cavalry of every
description. Nothing surprised those who witnessed this magnificent
spectacle, more than the high state of good order and regular equipment in
which the men and horses appeared. They seemed rather to resemble troops
drawn from peaceful quarters to some grand or solemn festival, than
regiments engaged during a long winter campaign in constant marches and
countermarches, as well as in a succession of the fiercest and most
sanguinary conflicts, and who had fought a general action but the day
before.[27] After making the circuit of half of Paris by the interior
Boulevards, the monarchs halted in the Champs Elysées, and the troops
passed in review before them as they were dismissed to their quarters in the
city. The Cossacks of the guard established their bivouac in the Champs
Elysées themselves, which may be termed the Hyde Park of Paris, and
which was thus converted into a Scythian encampment.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.
Fears of the Parisians—Proceedings of Napoleon—Operations
of the French Cavalry in rear of the Allies—Capture of
Weissemberg—The Emperor Francis is nearly surprised—
Napoleon reaches Troyes on the night of the 29th March—
Opinion of Macdonald as to the possibility of relieving Paris—
Napoleon leaves Troyes, on the 30th, and meets Belliard, a few
miles from Paris, in full retreat—Conversation betwixt them—
He determines to proceed to Paris, but is at length dissuaded—
and despatches Caulaincourt to receive terms from the Allied
Sovereigns—He himself returns to Fontainbleau.
When the enthusiasm attending the entrance of the
FEARS OF THE allies, which had converted a day of degradation into
PARISIANS.
one of joy and festivity, began to subside, the perilous
question occurred to those who found themselves suddenly embarked in a
new revolution, Where were Napoleon and his army, and what means did
his active and enterprising genius possess of still re-establishing his affairs,
and taking vengeance on his revolted capital? That terrible and evil spirit,
who had so long haunted their very dreams, and who had been well termed
the nightmare of Europe, was not yet conjured down, though for the present
he exercised his ministry elsewhere. All trembled for the consequence of his
suddenly returning in full force, combined either with the troops of
Augereau, or with the garrisons withdrawn from the frontier fortresses. But
their fears were without foundation; for, though he was not personally
distant, his powers of inflicting vengeance were now limited. We proceed to
trace his progress after his movement eastward, from the neighbourhood of
Vitry to St. Dizier, which had permitted the union of the two allied armies.
Here he was joined by Caulaincourt, who had to inform him of the
dissolution of the Congress at Chatillon, with the addition, that he had not
received his instructions from Rheims, until the diplomatists had departed.
Those subsequently despatched by Count Frochot, he had not received at
all.

Meanwhile, Napoleon's cavalry commenced the proposed operations in the
rear of the allies, and made prisoners some persons of consequence, who
were travelling, as they supposed, in perfect security, between Troyes and
Dijon. Among these was Baron Weissemberg, who had long been the
Austrian envoy at the court of London. The Emperor Francis was nearly
surprised in person by the French light troops. He was obliged to fly in a
drosky, a Russian carriage, attended only by two domestics, from Bar-sur-
Aube to Chatillon, and from thence he retreated to Dijon![28] Napoleon
showed every civility to his prisoner, Weissemberg, and despatched him to
the Emperor of Austria, to solicit once more his favourable interference.
The person of the present King of France[29] (then Monsieur) would have
been a yet more important capture, but the forays of the light cavalry did
not penetrate so far as to endanger him.
On the 24th March, Napoleon halted at Doulevent, to concentrate his
forces, and gain intelligence. He remained there also on the 25th, and
employed his time in consulting his maps, and dictating new instructions
for Caulaincourt, by which he empowered him to make every cession. But
the hour of safety was past. Upon the morning of the 26th, Napoleon was
roused by the intelligence, that the allies had attacked the rear of his army
under Macdonald, near St. Dizier. He instantly hastened to the support of
the maréchal, concluding that his own scheme had been successful, and that
his retreat to the eastward had drawn after him the grand army of the allies.
The allies showed a great number of cavalry with flying guns, but no
infantry. Napoleon ordered an attack on them, in which the French were
successful, the allies falling back after slight opposition. He learned from
the prisoners, that he had been engaged, not with Schwartzenberg, but with
Blucher's troops. This was strange intelligence. He had left Blucher
threatening Meaux, and now he found his army on the verge of Lorraine.
On the 27th, by pushing a reconnoitring party as far west as Vitry, Napoleon
learned the real state of the case; that both the allied armies had marched
upon Paris; and that the cavalry with which he had skirmished were 10,000
men, under Winzengerode, left behind by the allies as a curtain to screen
their motions, and engage his attention. Every word in this news had a sting
in it. To hasten after the allies, to surprise them, if possible, ere the cannon
on Montmartre were yet silenced, was the most urgent thought that ever
actuated the mind even of Napoleon, so accustomed to high and desperate

risks. But the direct route on Paris had been totally exhausted of provision,
by the march and countermarch of such large armies. It was necessary to go
round by Troyes, and, for that purpose, to retrograde as far as Doulevent.
Here he received a small billet in cipher, from the postmaster-general, La
Valette, the first official communication he had got from the capital during
ten days. "The partisans of the stranger," these were the contents, "are
making head, seconded by secret intrigues. The presence of Napoleon is
indispensable, if he desires to prevent his capital from being delivered to the
enemy. There is not a moment to be lost."[30] The march was precipitated
accordingly.
At the bridge of Doulancourt, on the banks of the
DOULANCOURT— Aube, the Emperor received despatches, informing
TROYES.
him that an assault on Paris was hourly be expected.
Napoleon dismissed his aide-de-camp, Dejean, to ride post to Paris, and
spread the news of his speedy arrival. He gave him two bulletins, describing
in extravagant colours a pretended victory at Arcis, and the skirmish at St.
Dizier. He then advanced to Troyes, which he reached on that same night
(29th March,) the imperial guard marching fifteen leagues in one day. On
the 30th, Maréchal Macdonald gave to Berthier the following sound and
striking opinion:—"It is too late," he said, "to relieve Paris; at least by the
route we follow. The distance is fifty leagues; to be accomplished by forced
marches, it will require at least four days; and then in what condition for
combat is the army like to arrive, for there are no depôts, or magazines,
after leaving Bar-sur-Seine. The allies being yesterday at Meaux, must have
pushed their advanced guards up to the barriers by this time. There is no
good reason to hope that the united corps of the Dukes of Treviso and
Ragusa could check them long enough to allow us to come up. Besides, at
our approach, the allies will not fail to defend the passage of the Marne. I
am then of opinion, that if Paris fall under the power of the enemy, the
Emperor should direct his march on Sens, in order to retreat upon
Augereau, unite our forces with his, and, after having reposed our troops,
give the enemy battle on a chosen field. If Providence has then decreed our
last hour, we will at least die with honour, instead of being dispersed,
pillaged, taken, and slaughtered by Cossacks." Napoleon's anxiety for the
fate of his capital, did not permit him to hearken to this advice; though it

seems the best calculated to have placed him in a condition, either to make
a composition with the allies, or to carry on a formidable war in their rear.
From Troyes, Napoleon despatched to Paris another aide-de-camp, General
Girardin, who is said to have carried orders for defending the city to the
last, and at all risks—an accusation, however, which, considering the mass
of unimaginable mischief that such an order must have involved, is not to
be received without more proof than we have been able to obtain.
On the 30th March, Napoleon left Troyes, and, finding the road entirely
unoccupied by the enemy, threw himself into a post-carriage, and travelled
on at full speed before his army, with a very slight attendance. Having in
this way reached Villeneuve L'Archeveque, he rode to Fontainbleau on
horseback, and though it was then night, took a carriage for Paris, Berthier
and Caulaincourt accompanying him. On reaching an inn, called La Cour de
France, at a few miles' distance from Paris, he at length met ample proof of
his misfortune in the person of General Belliard, with his cavalry. The fatal
intelligence was communicated.
Leaping from his carriage, Napoleon turned back with
CONVERSATION Belliard, exclaiming—"What means this? Why here
WITH BELLIARD.
with your cavalry, Belliard? And where are the
enemy?"—"At the gates of Paris."—"And the army?"—"It is following
me."—"Where are my wife and son?—Where Marmont?—Where
Mortier?"—"The Empress set out for Rambouillet, and thence for Orleans.
The maréchals are busy completing their arrangements at Paris." He then
gave an account of the battle; and Napoleon instantly ordered his carriage
for Paris. They had already proceeded a mile and a half on the road. The
same conversation proceeded, and we give it as preserved, because it marks
the character of the principal personage, and the tone of his feeling, much
better than these can be collected from his expressions upon more formal
occasions, and when he had in view some particular purpose.[31]
General Belliard reminded him there were no longer any troops in Paris. "It
matters not," said Napoleon; "I will find the national guard there. The army
will join me to-morrow, or the day after, and I will put things on a proper
footing."—"But I must repeat to your Majesty, you cannot go to Paris. The
national guard, in virtue of the treaty, mount guard at the barriers, and

though the allies are not to enter till seven o'clock in the morning, it is
possible they may have found their way to the outposts, and that your
Majesty may find Russian or Prussian parties at the gates, or on the
Boulevards."—"It is all one—I am determined to go there—My carriage!—
Follow me with your cavalry."—"But, Sire, your Majesty will expose Paris
to the risk of storm or pillage. More than 20,000 men are in possession of
the heights—for myself, I have left the city in consequence of a convention,
and cannot therefore return."—"What is that convention? who has
concluded it?"—"I cannot tell, Sire; I only know from the Duke of Treviso
that such exists, and that I must march to Fontainbleau."—"What is Joseph
about?—Where is the minister at war?"—"I do not know; we have received
orders from neither of them during the whole day. Each maréchal acted on
his own responsibility. They have not been seen to-day with the army—At
least not with the Duke of Treviso's corps."—"Come, we must to Paris—
nothing goes right when I am absent—they do nothing but make blunders."
Berthier and Caulaincourt joined in trying to divert the Emperor from his
purpose. He never ceased demanding his carriage. Caulaincourt announced
it, but it did not come up. Napoleon strode on with hurried and unequal
steps, asking repeated questions concerning what had been already
explained. "You should have held out longer," he said, "and tried to wait for
the arrival of the army. You should have raised Paris, which cannot surely
like the entrance of the Russians. You should have put in motion the
national guard, whose disposition is good, and intrusted to them the defence
of the fortifications which the minister has caused to be erected, and which
are well furnished with artillery. Surely the citizens could have defended
these, while the troops of the line fought upon the heights and in the
plain?"—"I repeat to you, Sire, that it was impossible. The army of 15,000
or 18,000 men has resisted one of 100,000 for four hours, expecting your
arrival. There was a report of it in the city, which spread to the troops. They
redoubled their exertions. The national guard has behaved extremely well,
both as sharpshooters and in defence of the wretched redoubts which
protected the barriers."—"It is astonishing. How many cavalry had
you?"—"Eighteen hundred horse, Sire, including the brigade of
Dautencour."—"Montmartre, well fortified and defended by heavy cannon,
should have been impregnable."—"Luckily, Sire, the enemy were of your
opinion, and approached the heights with much caution. But there was no

occasion, we had not above seven six-pounders."—"What can they have
made of my artillery? I ought to have had more than two hundred guns, and
ammunition to serve them for a month."—"The truth is, Sire, that we had
only field-artillery, and at two o'clock we were obliged to slacken our fire
for want of ammunition."—"Go, go—I see every one has lost their senses.
This comes of employing people who have neither common sense nor
energy. Well! Joseph imagines himself capable of conducting an army; and
Clarke, a mere piece of routine, gives himself the airs of a great minister;
but the one is no better than a fool, and the other a —— ——, or a traitor,
for I begin to believe what Savary said of him."—The conversation going
on in this manner, they had advanced a mile farther from the Cour de
France, when they met a body of infantry under General Curial. Napoleon
inquired after the Duke of Treviso, to whose corps d'armée they belonged,
and was informed he was still at Paris.
It was then, that on the pressing remonstrances of his officers, who saw that
in going on to Paris he was only rushing on death or captivity, Napoleon at
length turned back; and having abandoned the strong inflexible impulse
which would have carried him thither at all adventures, he seems to have
considered his fate as decided, or at least to have relaxed considerably in
the original vehemence which he opposed to adversity.
He returned to the Cour de France, and gave orders for disposing the forces,
as they should come up, on the heights of Longjumeau, behind the little
river of Essonne. Desirous at the same time of renewing the negotiation for
peace, which, on successes of an ephemeral description, he had broken off
at Chatillon, Napoleon despatched Caulaincourt to Paris, no longer to
negotiate, but to receive and submit to such terms as the allied sovereigns
might be inclined to impose upon him. He returned to Fontainbleau the
same night. He did not take possession of any of the rooms of state, but
chose a private and more retired apartment. Among the many strange
transactions which had taken place in that venerable and ancient palace, its
halls were now to witness one the most extraordinary.

CHAPTER LXXIX.
The Allied Sovereigns issue a Proclamation that they will not
treat with Buonaparte—A Provisional Government is named by
the Conservative Senate, who also decree the forfeiture of
Napoleon—This decree is sanctioned by all the Public Bodies in
Paris—The legality of these proceedings discussed—Feelings
towards Napoleon, of the Lower Classes, and of the Military—
On 4th April, Buonaparte issues a document abdicating the
Throne of France—His subsequent agitation, and wish to
continue the war—The deed is finally despatched.
While Napoleon breathed nothing save the desire of recovering by war what
war had taken from him, or at least that of making such a peace as should
leave him at the head of the French government, political events were
taking place in Paris which pointed directly at the overthrow of his power.
His great military talents, together with his extreme inflexibility of temper,
had firmly impressed the allied monarchs with the belief, that no lasting
peace could be made in Europe while he remained at the head of the French
nation. Every concession which he had seemed willing to make at different
times, had been wrung from him by increasing difficulties, and was yielded
with such extreme reluctance, as to infer the strongest suspicion that they
would all be again resumed, should the league of the allies be dissolved, or
their means of opposing his purposes become weaker. When, therefore,
Caulaincourt came to Paris on the part of his master, with power to
subscribe to all and each of the demands made by the allies, he was not
indeed explicitly refused audience; but, before he was admitted to a
conference with the Emperor Alexander, to whom his mission was
addressed, the sovereigns had come under engagements which precluded
them altogether from treating with Napoleon.[32]
When the Emperor of Russia halted, after the progress of the allied
sovereigns through the city, it was at the hotel of Talleyrand. He was
scarcely arrived there ere the principal Royalists, and those who had acted

with them, waited on him to crave an audience. Besides the Emperor
Alexander, the King of Prussia, and Prince Schwartzenberg, were present
General Pozzo di Borgo, Nesselrode, Lichtenstein, the Duke Dalberg,
Baron Louis, the Abbé de Pradt, and others. Three points were discussed,
1st, The possibility of a peace with Napoleon, upon sufficient guarantees;
2d, The plan of a regency; 3d, The restoration of the Bourbons.
The first proposition seemed inadmissible. The
PROCLAMATION OF second was carefully considered. It was particularly
THE ALLIES.
urged that the French were indifferent to the cause of
the Bourbons—that the allied monarchs would observe no mark of
recollection of them exhibited by the people of France—and that the army
seemed particularly averse to them. The united testimony of the French
gentlemen present was offered to repel these doubts; and it was at length
agreed, that the third proposition—the restoration of the ancient family, and
the ancient limits—should be the terms adopted for the settlement of
France.[33] A proclamation was immediately dispersed, by which the
sovereigns made known their determination not to treat with Buonaparte or
any of his family.[34]
But more formal evidence, in the shape of legal procedure, was necessary to
establish the desire of the French people to coincide in the proposed change
of government. The public body which ought naturally to have taken the
lead on such an important affair, was the Legislative Assembly, in whom
Napoleon's constitution vested some ostensible right of interference when
the state was in danger; but so far had the Emperor been from recognising
such a power in practice, that the instant when the Assembly assumed the
right of remonstrating with him, though in the most respectful terms, he
suspended their functions, and spurned them from the footstool of his
throne, informing them, that not they, but He, was the representative of the
people, from whom there lay no appeal, and besides whom, no body in the
state possessed power and efficacy. This legislative council, therefore, being
dispersed and prorogued, could not take the initiative upon the present
occasion.
The searching genius of Talleyrand sought an organ of public opinion where
few would have looked for it—in the Conservative Senate, namely, whose
members had been so long the tools of Buonaparte's wildest projects, and

the echoes of his most despotic decrees—that very body, of which he
himself said, with equal bitterness and truth, that they were more eager to
yield up national rights than he had been to demand the surrender, and that a
sign from him had always been an order for the Senate, who hastened
uniformly to anticipate and exceed his demands. Yet when, on the summons
of Talleyrand, who knew well with whom he was dealing, this Senate was
convoked, in a meeting attended by sixty-six of their number, forming a
majority of the body, they at once, and without hesitation, named a
Provisional Government, consisting of Talleyrand, Bournonville, Jaucourt,
Dalberg, and the Abbé de Montesquieu; men recommended by talents and
moderation, and whose names, known in the Revolution, might, at the same
time, be a guarantee to those who dreaded a renovation of the old despotic
government with the restoration of the ancient race of kings.
On the 2d and 3d of April the axe was laid to the
DECREE OF roots. A decree of the Senate sent forth the following
FORFEITURE.
statement:—1st, That Napoleon, after governing for
some time with prudence and wisdom, had violated the constitution, by
raising taxes in an arbitrary and lawless manner, contrary to the tenor of his
oath.—2d, That he had adjourned without necessity the Legislative Body,
and suppressed a report of that assembly, besides disowning its right to
represent the people.—3d, That he had published several unconstitutional
decrees, particularly those of 5th March last, by which he endeavoured to
render national a war, in which his own ambition alone was interested.—
4th, That he had violated the constitution by his decrees respecting state
prisons.—5th, That he had abolished the responsibility of ministers,
confounded together the different powers of the state, and destroyed the
independence of judicial authorities.—6th, That the liberty of the press,
constituting one of the rights of the nation, had been uniformly subjected to
the arbitrary censure of his police; while, at the same time, he himself had
made use of the same engine to fill the public ear with invented fictions,
false maxims, doctrines favourable to despotism, and insults upon foreign
governments.—7th, That he had caused acts and reports, adopted by the
Senate, to be altered by his own authority, before publication.—8th, That
instead of reigning, according to his oath, for the honour, happiness, and
glory of the French nation, he had put the finishing stroke to the distresses
of the country, by a refusal to treat on honourable conditions—by the abuse

which he had made of the means intrusted to him, in men and money—by
abandoning the wounded, without dressing or sustenance—and by pursuing
measures of which the consequences have been the ruin of towns, the
depopulation of the country, famine and pestilence. From all these inductive
causes, the Senate, considering that the Imperial government, established by
the decree of 28th Floreal, in the year XII., had ceased to exist, and that the
manifest desire of all Frenchmen was to obtain an order of things, of which
the first result should be peace and concord among the great members of the
European family: Therefore, the Senate declared and decreed, 1st, That
Napoleon Buonaparte had forfeited the throne, and the right of inheritance
established in his family.—2d, That the people and army of France were
disengaged and freed from the oath of fidelity, which they had taken to
Napoleon and his constitution.[35]
About eighty members of the Legislative Body, at the
DECLARATIONS OF summons of the Provisional Government, assembled
PUBLIC BODIES.
on the 3d April, and formally adhered to the above
decree of forfeiture. The consequences of these bold measures showed,
either that Napoleon had in reality never had more than a slight hold on the
affections of the people of France, or that the interest they took in his
fortunes had been in a great degree destroyed by the fears and passions
excited by the immediate crisis. Even before the Senate could reduce its
decree into form, the council-general of the department of the Seine had
renounced Napoleon's authority, and imputed to him alone the present
disastrous state of the country. The decree of the Senate was followed by
declarations from all the public bodies in and around Paris, that they
adhered to the Provisional Government, and acquiesced in the decree of
forfeiture. Numerous individuals, who had been favoured and enriched by
Buonaparte, were among the first to join the tide when it set against him.
But it had been always his policy to acquire adherents, by addressing
himself rather to men's interests than to their principles; and many of his
friends so gained, naturally became examples of the politic observation,
"that if a prince places men in wealthy circumstances, the first thing they
think of, in danger, is how to preserve the advantages they have obtained,
without regard to his fate to whom they owe them."
We do not believe that it occurred to any person while these events were
passing, to question either the formality or the justice of the doom of

forfeiture against Napoleon; but Time has called out many authors, who,
gained by the brilliancy of Napoleon's reputation, and some of them bound
to him by ties of gratitude or friendship, have impugned, more or less
directly, the formality of the Senate's procedure, as well as the justice of
their sentence. We, therefore, feel it our duty to bestow some consideration
upon this remarkable event in both points of view.
The objection proposed against the legality of the Senate's acting as the
organ of the people, in pronouncing the doom of forfeiture, rests upon the
idea, that the right of dethroning the sovereign, who shall be guilty of
oppression beyond endurance, can only be exercised in a peculiar and
formal manner, or, as our law-phrase goes, "according to the statute made
and provided in that case." This seems to take a narrow view of the subject.
The right of redressing themselves under such circumstances, does not
belong to, and is not limited by, any peculiar forms of civil government. It
is a right which belongs to human nature under all systems whatever. It
exists in every government under the sun, from that of the Dey of Algiers to
the most free republic that ever was constructed. There is, indeed, much
greater latitude for the exercise of arbitrary authority in some governments
than in others. An Emperor of Morocco may, with impunity, bathe his hands
to the elbows in the blood of his subjects shed by his own hand; but even in
this the most absolute of despotisms, there are peculiar limits which cannot
be passed by the sovereign without the exercise of the natural right of
resistance on the part of his subjects, although their system of government
be as arbitrary as words can declare it to be, and the Emperor is frequently
dethroned and slain by his own guards.
In limited governments, on the other hand, like that of Great Britain, the
law imposes bounds, beyond which the royal authority shall not pass; but it
makes no provision for what shall take place, should a monarch, as in the
case of James II., transgress the social compact. The constitution averts its
eyes from contemplating such an event—indeed it is pronounced
impossible; and when the emergency did arrive, and its extrication became
a matter of indispensable necessity, it was met and dealt with as a
concurrence of circumstances which had not happened before, and ought
never to be regarded as being possible to occur again. The foreigner who
peruses our constitution for the forms of procedure competent in such an

event as the Revolution, might as well look in a turnpike act for directions
how to proceed in a case resembling that of Phaeton.
If the mode of shaking off an oppressive yoke, by declaring the monarchy
abdicated or forfeited, be not a fixed form in a regular government, but left
to be provided for by a convention or otherwise, as a case so calamitous and
so anomalous should demand, far less was it to be supposed that a
constitution like that of France, which Buonaparte had studiously deprived
of every power and means of checking the executive, should contain a
regular form of process for declaring the crown forfeited. He had been as
careful as despot could, to leave no bar in existence before which the public
might arraign him; but will it be contended, that the public had therefore
forfeited its natural right of accusing and of obtaining redress? If he had
rendered the Senate the tame drudges which we have described, and
prorogued the Legislative Body by an arbitrary coup d'état, was he
therefore to escape the penalty of his misgovernment? On the contrary, the
nation of France, like Great Britain at the time of the Revolution 1688, was
to proceed as it best could in taking care, Ne quid detrimenti respublica
capiat. The Senate was not, perhaps, the best organ for expressing public
opinion, but it was the only one Napoleon had left within reach, and
therefore it was seized upon and made use of. That it was composed of men
who had so long gone on with Napoleon's interest, and now were able to
keep up in course with him no longer, made his misrule even yet more
glaring, and the necessity of the case more evident.
It is of far more importance to be enabled to form an accurate judgment
respecting the justice of the sentence of forfeiture pronounced against this
eminent man, than upon its mere formality. That we may examine this
question with the impartiality it deserves, we must look upon it not only
divested of our feelings as Britons, but as unconnected with the partisans
either of the Bourbons or of Buonaparte. With these last there could be no
room either for inquiry or conviction. The Royalist must have been
convinced that Napoleon deserved, not deprivation only, but death also, for
usurping the throne of his rightful sovereign; and the Buonapartist, on the
other hand, would hold it cowardly treason to desert the valiant Emperor,
who had raised France to such a state of splendour by his victories, more
especially to forsake him in the instant when Fortune was looking black

upon his cause. There could be no argument between these men, save with
their good swords in a fair field.
But such decided sentiments were not entertained upon the part of the great
bulk of the French nation. A large number of the middle classes, in
particular, remembering the first terrors of the Revolution, had showed their
willingness to submit to the yoke which gradually assumed a despotic
character, rather than, by a renewed struggle for their liberties, to run the
risk of reviving the days of Terror and Proscription. It is in the person of
such an individual, desirous of the honour and advantage of his country, and
anxious at the same time for the protection of his own family and property,
that we now endeavour to consider the question of Napoleon's forfeiture.
The mind of such a person would naturally revert to the period when
Buonaparte, just returned from Egypt, appeared on the stage like a deity
descending to unloose a perplexing knot, which no human ingenuity could
extricate. Our citizen would probably admit, that Napoleon used the sword
a little too freely in severing the intricacies of the noose; or, in plain words,
that the cashiering the Council of Five Hundred, at the head of his
grenadiers, was an awkward mode of ascending to power in a country
which still called itself free. This feeling, however, would be greatly
overbalanced by recollecting the use which was made of the power thus
acquired; the subjugation, to wit, of foreign enemies, the extinction of civil
dissensions, the protection of property, and, for a time, of personal liberty
also. Napoleon's having elevated France from the condition of a divided and
depressed country, in the immediate apprehension of invasion, into that of
arbitress of Europe, would at once justify committing the chief authority to
such able hands, and excuse the means he had used for attaining it;
especially in times when the violent and successive changes under which
they had long suffered, had made the nation insensible to irregularities like
those attached to the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. Neither would our
citizens probably be much shocked at Napoleon's assuming the crown.
Monarchy was the ancient government of France, and successive changes
had served to show that they could not fix on any other form of constitution,
labour how they would, which was endowed with the same degree of
permanence. The Bourbons had, indeed, the claim by birth to mount that
throne, were it to be again erected. But they were in exile, separated by civil
war, party prejudices, the risk of reaction, and a thousand other difficulties,

which seemed at the time absolutely insurmountable. Buonaparte was
standing under the canopy, he grasped the regal sceptre in his hand, his
assuming the royal seat passed almost as a matter of course.
Our supposed Parisian has next to review a course of years of such
brilliancy as to baffle criticism, and charm reason to silence, till the
undertakings of the Emperor seem to rise above each other in wonder, each
being a step towards the completion of that stupendous pyramid, of which
the gradations were to be formed by conquered provinces, until the
refractory and contumacious isle of Britain should be added to complete the
pile, on the top of which was destined to stand the armed form of Napoleon,
trampling the world under his foot. This is the noble work which France and
her monarch were in the act of achieving. It requires the sacrifice of
children or relatives to fill their ranks; they go where Honour calls, and
Victory awaits them. These times, however, are overclouded; there come
tidings that the stone heaved by such portentous exertion so high up the hill,
has at length recoiled on him who laboured to give it a course contrary to
nature. It is then that the real quality of the fetters, hitherto gilded over by
success, begins to be felt, and the iron enters into the soul. The parent must
not weep aloud for the child—the Emperor required his service;—the
patriot must not speak a word on public affairs—the dungeon waits for him.
While news of fresh disasters from Spain and Moscow were every day
arriving, what comfort could a citizen of France find in adverting to past
victories? These had brought on France the hatred of Europe, the tears of
families, the ruin of fortunes, general invasion, and wellnigh national
bankruptcy. Every year had the children of France undergone decimation—
taxes to the amount of fifteen hundred millions of francs yearly, had
succeeded to the four hundred millions imposed under the reign of the
Bourbons—the few remaining ships of France rotted in her harbours—her
bravest children were slaughtered on their native soil—a civil war was on
the point of breaking out—one half of France was overrun by the foreign
enemy. Was this most melancholy state of the country brought about in
defending strongly, but unfortunately, any of the rights of France? No—she
might have enjoyed her triumphs in the most profound peace. Two wars
with Spain and Russia, which gave fire to this dreadful train of calamities,
were waged for no national or reasonable object, but merely because one
half of Europe could not satisfy the ambition of one man. Again, our citizen

inquires, whether, having committed the dreadful error of commencing
these wars, the Emperor has endeavoured to make peace with the parties
injured? He is answered, that repeated terms of peace have been offered to
Napoleon, upon condition of ceding his conquests, but that he had preferred
hazarding the kingdom of France, to yielding up that which he termed his
glory, a term which he successively conferred on whatever possession he
was required to surrender; that even at Chatillon, many days passed when
he might have redeemed himself by consenting that France should be
reduced within the limits which she enjoyed under the Bourbons; but that
the proposal when half admitted, had been retracted by him in consequence
of some transient success; and finally, that in consequence of his
intractability and obstinacy, the allied sovereigns had solemnly declared
they would not enter into treaty with him, or those who acted with him. Our
citizen would naturally look about for some means of escaping the
impending danger, and would be informed that the peace which the allied
princes refused to Buonaparte, they held out with ready hand to the
kingdom of France under any other government. He would learn that if
these terms were accepted, there was every prospect that a secure and
lasting peace would ensue; if refused, the inevitable consequence would be
a battle between two large armies fought under the walls of Paris, which
city was almost certain to be burnt, whichever party got the advantage.
In consequence of this information, the citizen of Paris would probably be
able to decide for himself. But if he inquired at a jurist, he would be
informed that Napoleon held the crown not by right of blood, but by the
choice, or rather permission of the people, as an administrator bound to
manage for their best advantage.
Now, every legal obligation may be unloosed in the same way in which it is
formed. If, therefore, Napoleon's government was no longer for the
advantage of France, but, on the contrary, tended plainly to her ruin, she had
a right to rid herself of him, as of a servant unfit for duty, or as if mariners
had taken aboard their vessel a comrade intended to act as pilot, but who
had proved a second Jonas, whom it was necessary to sacrifice to appease a
storm which had come upon them through his misconduct. Upon such
reasoning, certainly neither unwise nor unpatriotic, the burghers of Paris, as
well as all those who had any thing to lose in the struggle, may be supposed
to have acted.

The lower, or rather the lowest class of inhabitants, were not accessible to
the same arguments. They had been bequeathed to Buonaparte as an heir-
loom of the Republic, of which he has been truly called the heir. His police
had industriously maintained connexions amongst them, and retained in pay
and in dependence on the government, their principal leaders. Names had
changed around men of that ignorant condition, without their feeling their
situation much altered. The Glory of France was to them as inspiring a
watchword as the Rights of Man had been; and their quantum of sous per
day, when employed, as they frequently were, upon the public works, was
no bad exchange for Liberty and Equality, after they had arrived at the
discovery of the poor cobbler, who exclaimed—"Fine Liberty, indeed, that
leaves me cobbling shoes as she found me!" Bulletins and Moniteurs, which
trumpeted the victories of Napoleon, were as animating and entertaining to
the inhabitants of the suburbs as the speeches of republican orators; for in
such triumphs of a nation, the poor have a share as ample as their wealthier
neighbours. The evils of the war were also less felt by the poor. Their very
poverty placed them beneath taxation, and the children, of whom they were
bereaved by the conscription, they must otherwise have parted with, in all
probability, that they might seek subsistence elsewhere. In the present
circumstances the hatred to foreigners, proper to persons of their class,
came to aid their admiration of Buonaparte. In a battle, they had something
to gain and nothing to lose, saving their lives, of which their national
gallantry induced them to take small heed. Had Napoleon been in Paris, he
might have made much use of this force. But in his absence, the weight of
property, prudently directed, naturally bore down the ebullitions of those
who had only brute strength to throw into the balance, and the
overwhelming force of the allied army kept the suburbs in subjection.
The disposition of the military was a question of deep
THE MILITARY— importance. Accustomed to follow Napoleon through
FONTAINBLEAU.
every climate, and every description of danger,
unquestionably their attachment to his person was of the most devoted and
enthusiastic kind. But this can only be said in general of the regimental
officers, and the soldiers. The maréchals, and many of the generals, were
tired of this losing war. These, with many also of the inferior officers, and
even of the soldiers, began to consider the interest of their general, and that
of France, as having become separated from each other. It was from Paris

that the changes had emanated by which the army was governed during
every revolutionary crisis; and they were now required to engage in an
undertaking which was likely to be fatal to that metropolis. To advance
upon the allies, and fight a battle under the capital, was to expose to
destruction the city, whose name to every Frenchman has a sacred and
inviolable sound. The maréchals, in particular, were disgusted with a
contest, in which each of them had been left successively without adequate
means of resistance, to stem, or attempt to stem, a superior force of the
enemy; with the certainty, at the same time, to be held up to public censure
in the next bulletin, in case of failure, though placed in circumstances which
rendered success impossible. These generals were more capable than the
army at large of comprehending the nature of the war in which they were
likely to be engaged, and of appreciating the difficulties of a contest which
was to be maintained in future without money, ammunition, or supplies,
excepting such as should be extorted from that part of the country over
which they held military possession; and this, not only against all the allies
now in France, and the insurgent corps of Royalists in the west, but also
against a second, or reserved line of three or four hundred thousand
Russians, Austrians, and other allied troops which had not yet crossed the
frontier.
Besides, the soldiers with which an attack upon the allied army must have
been undertaken, were reduced to a disastrous condition, by their late forced
marches, and the want of succours and supplies of every description; the
cavalry were in a great measure dismounted; the regiments not half
complete; the horses unshod; the physical condition of the army bad, and its
moral feelings depressed, and unfit for enterprise. The period seemed to
have arrived, beyond which Napoleon could not maintain his struggle,
without destruction to himself, to Paris, and to France. These sentiments
were commonly entertained among the French general officers. They felt
their attachment to Napoleon placed in opposition to the duty they owed
their country by the late decree of the Senate, and they considered the cause
of France as the most sacred. They had received intelligence from
Bournonville of what had passed at Paris, and considering the large
proportion of the capital which had declared against Buonaparte, and that
an assault on Paris must have occasioned much effusion of French blood,
and have become the signal of civil war, the maréchals and principal

general officers agreed they could not follow Napoleon in such an attack on
the city, or against the allies' line of defence around it, both because, in a
military point of view, they thought the attempt desperate, considering the
state of the army, and because, in a political position, they regarded it as
contrary to their duty as citizens.[36]
In the night betwixt the 2d and 3d of April, Caulaincourt returned from his
mission to Paris. He reported, that the allies persisted in their determination
to entertain no treaty with Buonaparte; but he was of opinion, that the
scheme of a regency by the Empress, as the guardian of their son, might
even yet be granted. Austria, he stated, was favourable to such an
arrangement, and Russia seemed not irreconcilably averse to it. But the
abdication of Buonaparte was a preliminary condition. As this news
circulated among the maréchals, it fixed them in their resolution not to
march against Paris, as, in their opinion, the war ought to be ended by this
personal sacrifice on the part of Napoleon.
Buonaparte had not, probably, expected this
FONTAINBLEAU. separation between the duties of a soldier and of a
citizen. On the 4th April, he reviewed a part of his
troops, addressed them on the display of the white colours in France by
some factious persons, reminded them that the three-coloured cockade was
that of victory and honour, and that he intended to march on the capital, to
punish the traitors by whom it had been vilified.[37] He was answered by
shouts of "Paris, Paris!" and had no reason to fear that the troops would
hesitate to follow him in his effort. The orders were given to advance the
imperial quarters from Fontainbleau to Essonne.
But after the review was over, Berthier, Ney, Macdonald, Caulaincourt,
Oudinot, Bertrand, and other officers of the highest rank, followed the
Emperor into his apartment, and explained to him the sentiments which
they entertained on the subject of the proposed movement, their opinion
that he ought to negotiate on the principle of personal abdication, and the
positive determination which most of them had formed, on no account to
follow him in an attack upon Paris.[38]
There is no doubt that, by an appeal to officers of an inferior rank and
consideration, young Seids, who knew no other virtue than a determined

attachment to their chief, through good or evil, Napoleon might have filled
up, in a military point of view, the vacancy which the resignation of the
maréchals must have created in his list of generals. But those who urged to
him this unpleasant proposal, were the fathers of the war, the well-known
brave and beloved leaders of large armies. Their names might be
individually inferior to his own; but with what feelings would the public
hear that he was deprived of those men, who had been so long the pride and
dread of war? and what were likely to be the sentiments of the soldiery,
upon whom the names of Ney, Macdonald, Oudinot, and others, operated
like a war-trumpet.
With considerable reluctance, and after long debate, Napoleon assumed the
pen, and acquiescing in the reasoning pressed upon him, wrote the
following words, which we translate as literally as possible, as showing
Napoleon's power of dignity of expression, when deep feeling
predominated over his affectation of antithesis and Orientalism of
composition:
"The allied powers having proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is the
sole obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor
Napoleon, faithful to his oath, declares that he is ready to descend from the
throne, to quit France, and even to relinquish life, for the good of the
country, which is inseparable from the rights of his son, from those of the
Regency in the person of the Empress, and from the maintenance of the
laws of the empire. Done at our Palace of Fontainbleau, 4th April, 1814."
Caulaincourt and Ney were appointed to be bearers of this important
document, and commissioners to negotiate with the allies, concerning the
terms of accommodation to which it might be supposed to lead.
Caulaincourt was the personal representative of Napoleon; and Ney, who
had all along been zealous for the abdication, was a plenipotentiary
proposed by the rest of the maréchals. Napoleon, it is said, wished to add
Marmont; but he was absent with the troops quartered at Essonne, who,
having been withdrawn in consequence of the treaty of Paris, were disposed
of in that position. Macdonald was suggested as the third plenipotentiary, as
an officer whose high character best qualified him to represent the army.
Napoleon hesitated; for though he had employed Macdonald's talents on the
most important occasions, he knew that the maréchal disliked, upon

principle, the arbitrary character of his government; and they had never
stood to each other in any intimate or confidential relation. He consulted his
minister, Maret. "Send the Duke of Tarentum," replied the minister. "He is
too much a man of honour not to discharge, with religious fidelity, any trust
which he undertakes." Marshal Macdonald's name was added to the
commission accordingly.[39]
When the terms were in the act of being adjusted, the maréchals desired to
know upon what stipulations they were to insist on Napoleon's personal
behalf. "Upon none,"—said Buonaparte. "Do what you can to obtain the
best terms for France: for myself, I ask nothing." They were instructed
particularly to obtain an armistice until the treaty should be adjusted.
Through the whole scene Buonaparte conducted himself with firmness, but
he gave way to a natural emotion when he had finally signed the abdication.
He threw himself on a sofa, hid his face for a few minutes, and then looking
up, with that smile of persuasion which he had so often found irresistible,
he implored his brethren of the field to annul the resolutions they had
adopted, to destroy the papers, and follow him yet again to the contest. "Let
us march," he said; "let us take the field once more! We are sure to beat
them, and to have peace on our own terms."[40] The moment would have
been invaluable to a historical painter. The maréchals were deeply affected,
but could not give way. They renewed their arguments on the wretched state
of the army—on the reluctance with which the soldiers would move against
the Senate—on the certainty of a destructive civil war—and on the
probability that Paris would be destroyed. He acquiesced once more in their
reasoning, and permitted them to depart on their embassy.[41]

CHAPTER LXXX.
Victor, and other Maréchals give in their adhesion to the
Provisional Government—Marmont enters into a separate
Convention; but assists at the Conferences held at Paris, leaving
Souham second in command of his Army—The Commanders
have an interview with the Emperor Alexander—Souham enters
with his Army, into the lines of the Allies; in consequence, the
Allied Sovereigns insist upon the unconditional Submission of
Napoleon—His reluctant acquiescence—The Terms granted to
him—Disapprobation of Lord Castlereagh—General Desertion
of Napoleon—Death of Josephine—Singular Statement made by
Baron Fain, Napoleon's Secretary, of the Emperor's attempt to
commit Suicide—After this he becomes more resigned—Leaves
Fontainbleau, 28th April.
The plenipotentiaries of Napoleon had been directed to confer with
Marmont at Essonne, in their road to the capital. They did so, and obtained
information there, which rendered their negotiation more pressing. Several
of the generals who had not been at Fontainbleau, and had not had an
opportunity of acting in conjunction with the military council which
assembled there, had viewed the act of the Senate, adhered to by the other
public bodies, as decisively closing the reign of Buonaparte, or as indicating
the commencement of a civil war. Most of them were of opinion, that the
interest of an individual, whose talents had been as dangerous to France as
the virtues of Cæsar had been to Rome, ought not to be weighed against the
welfare of the capital and the whole nation. Victor, Duke of Belluno, had
upon these principles given in his personal adhesion to the Provisional
Government, and his example was followed by many others.
But the most important proselyte to the royal cause
MARMONT'S was the Maréchal Marmont, Duke of Ragusa, who,
CONVENTION.
lying at Essonne with ten or twelve thousand men,
formed the advance of the French army. Conceiving himself to have the
liberty of other Frenchmen to attend at this crisis to the weal of France,

rather than to the interest of Napoleon alone, and with the purpose of saving
France from the joint evils of a civil and domestic war, he made use of the
position in which he was placed, to give a weight to his opinion, which that
of no other individual could have possessed at the moment. Maréchal
Marmont, after negotiation with the Provisional Government on the one
hand, and Prince Schwartzenberg on the other, had entered into a
convention on his own account, and that of his corps d'armée, by which he
agreed to march the division which he commanded within the lines of
cantonment held by the allies, and thus renounced all idea of further
prosecuting the war. On the other hand, the maréchal stipulated for the
freedom and honourable usage of Napoleon's person, should he fall into the
hands of the allies. He obtained also a guarantee, that his corps d'armée
should be permitted to retreat into Normandy. This convention was signed
at Chevilly, upon 3d April.[42]
This step has been considered as a defection on the part of Marmont;[43] but
why is the choice of a side, betwixt the Provisional Government and the
Emperor, more a desertion in that general than in any other of the maréchals
or authorities who presently after took the very same step? And if the Duke
of Ragusa by that means put further bloodshed out of question, ought it not
to be matter of rejoicing (to borrow an expression of Talleyrand's on a
similar occasion) that the maréchal's watch went a few minutes faster than
those of his colleagues?
When Macdonald and Ney communicated to Marmont that they were
bearers of Napoleon's abdication, and that he was joined with them in
commission, that maréchal asked why he had not been summoned to attend
with the others at Fontainbleau, and mentioned the convention which he
had entered into, as acting for himself.[44] The Duke of Tarentum
expostulated with him on the disadvantage which must arise from any
disunion on the part of the principal officers of the army. Respecting the
council at Fontainbleau, he stated it had been convened under
circumstances of such sudden emergency, that there was no time to summon
any other than those maréchals who were close at hand, lest Napoleon had
in the meanwhile moved forward the army. The commissioners entreated
Marmont to suspend the execution of the separate convention, and to come
with them, to assist at the conferences to be held at Paris. He consented, and
mounted into Maréchal Ney's carriage, leaving General Souham, who, with

all the other generals of his division, two excepted, were privy to the
convention, in command of his corps d'armée, which he gave orders should
remain stationary.
When the maréchals arrived in Paris, they found the popular tide had set
strongly in favour of the Bourbons; their emblems were everywhere
adopted; and the streets resounded with Vive le Roi! The populace seemed
as enthusiastic in their favour as they had been indifferent a few days
before. All boded an unfavourable termination for their mission, so far as
respected the proposed regency.
The names and characters of the commissioners instantly obtained their
introduction to the Emperor Alexander, who received them with his natural
courtesy. "On the general subject of their mission," he said, "he could not
treat but in concert with his allies." But he enlarged on the subject of
Napoleon personally. "He was my friend," he said, "I loved and honoured
him. His ambition forced me into a dreadful war, in which my capital was
burnt, and the greatest evils inflicted on my dominions. But he is
unfortunate, and these wrongs are forgotten. Have you nothing to propose
on his personal account? I will be his willing advocate." The maréchals
replied, that Napoleon had made no conditions for himself whatever. The
Emperor would hardly believe this until they showed him their instructions,
which entirely related to public affairs. The Emperor then asked if they
would hear a proposal from him. They replied with suitable respect and
gratitude. He then mentioned the plan, which was afterwards adopted, that
Buonaparte should retain the imperial title over a small territory, with an
ample revenue, guards, and other emblems of dignity. "The place,"
continued the Emperor of Russia, "may be Elba, or some other island."
With this annunciation the commissioners of Buonaparte were dismissed
for the evening.
Maréchal Marmont had done all in his power to stop the military movement
which he had undertaken to execute, thinking it better, doubtless, to move
hand in hand with his brethren, than to act singly in a matter of such
responsibility; but accident precipitated what he desired to delay. Napoleon
had summoned to his presence Count Souham, who commanded the
division at Essonne in Marmont's absence. No reason was given for this
command, nor could any thing be extracted from the messenger, which

indicated the purpose of the order. Souham was therefore induced to suspect
that Napoleon had gained intelligence of the Convention of Chevilly. Under
this apprehension, he called the other generals who were in the secret to a
midnight council, in which it was determined to execute the convention
instantly, by passing over with the troops within the lines of the allies,
without awaiting any farther orders from Maréchal Marmont. The division
was put in movement upon the 5th of April, about five o'clock, and marched
for some time with much steadiness, the movement being, as they
supposed, designed for a flank attack on the position of the allies, but when
they perceived that their progress was watched, without being interrupted,
by a column of Bavarian troops,[45] they began to suspect the real purpose.
When this became known, a kind of mutiny took place, and some Polish
lancers broke off from the main body, and rode back to Fontainbleau; but
the instinct of discipline prevailed, and the officers were able to bring the
soldiery into their new quarters at Versailles. They were not, however,
reconciled to the measure in which they had been made partakers, and in a
few days afterwards broke out into an actual mutiny, which was not
appeased without considerable difficulty.[46]
Meanwhile, the commissioners of Buonaparte were
CONFERENCES AT admitted to a conference with the allied sovereigns
PARIS.
and ministers in full council, but which, it may be
conjectured, was indulged to them more as a form, that the allies might treat
with due respect the representatives of the French army, than with any
purpose on the part of the sovereigns of altering the plan to which they had
pledged themselves by a proclamation, upon the faith of which thousands
had already acted. However, the question, whether to adopt the projected
regency, or the restoration of the Bourbons, as a basis of agreement, was
announced as a subject of consideration to the meeting. The maréchals
pleaded the cause of the Regency. The Generals Bournonville and
Dessolles, were heard in reply to the commissioners from Fontainbleau,
when, ere the debate had terminated, news arrived of the march of
Marmont's division to Versailles. The commissioners were astounded with
this unexpected intelligence; and the Emperor took the opportunity to
determine, that the allies would not treat with Buonaparte save on the
footing of unconditional abdication. With this answer, mitigated with the
offer of an independent principality for their ancient commander, the

maréchals returned to Fontainbleau, while the Senate busied themselves to
arrange the plan of a free constitution, under which the Bourbons were to be
called to the throne.
Napoleon, in the retirement of Fontainbleau, mused on the future with little
hope of advantage from the mission of the maréchals. He judged that the
sovereigns, if they listened to the proposal of a regency, would exact the
most formidable guarantees against his own interference with the
government; and that under his wife, Maria Louisa, who had no talent for
public business, France would probably be managed by an Austrian
committee. He again thought of trying the chance of war, and might
probably have settled on the purpose most congenial to his nature, had not
Colonel Gourgaud brought him the news, that the division of Marmont had
passed into the enemy's cantonments on the morning of the 5th April. "The
ungrateful man!" he said, "But he is more to be pitied than I am."[47] He
ought to have been contented with this reflection, for which, even if unjust
to the maréchal, every one must have had sympathy and excuse. But the
next day he published a sort of appeal to the army on the solemnity of a
military engagement, as more sacred than the duty of a patriot to his
country; which he might more gracefully have abstained from, since all
knew already to what height he carried the sentiments of arbitrary power.
When the maréchals returned, he listened to the news of the failure of their
negotiation, as a termination which he had expected. But to their surprise,
recollecting his disinterested behaviour when they parted, he almost
instantly demanded what provision had been made for him personally, and
how he was to be disposed of? They informed him that it was proposed he
should reside as an independent sovereign, "in Elba, or somewhere else."
Napoleon paused for a moment. "Somewhere else!" he exclaimed. "That
must be Corsica. No, no.—I will have nothing to do with Corsica.[48]—
Elba? Who knows any thing of Elba! Seek out some officer who is
acquainted with Elba. Look out what books or charts can inform us about
Elba."
In a moment he was as deeply interested in the position and capabilities of
this little islet, as if he had never been Emperor of France, nay, almost of
the world. But Buonaparte's nature was egotistical. He well knew how little
it would become an Emperor resigning his crown, to be stipulating for his

future course of life; and had reason to conclude, that by playing his part
with magnanimity he might best excite a corresponding liberality in those
with whom he treated. But when the die was cast, when his fate seemed
fixed, he examined with minuteness what he must afterwards consider as
his sole fortune. To turn his thoughts from France to Elba, was like the
elephant, which can transport artillery, applying his trunk to gather pins.
But Napoleon could do both easily, because he regarded these two objects
not as they differed from each other, but as they belonged, or did not
belong, to himself.
After a night's consideration, the fallen Chief took his
FINAL ACT OF resolution, and despatched Caulaincourt and
ABDICATION.
Macdonald once more to Paris, to treat with the allies
upon the footing of an unconditional abdication of the empire. The
document was couched in these words:—
"The allied powers having proclaimed that the Emperor was the sole
obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor, faithful to
his oath, declares that he renounces for himself and his heirs the thrones of
France and Italy, and that there is no personal sacrifice, not even that of life,
which he is not ready to make to the interests of France."
Notwithstanding his having adopted this course, Napoleon, until the final
adjustment of the treaty, continued to nourish thoughts of breaking it off. He
formed plans for carrying on the war beyond the Loire—for marching to
join Augereau—for penetrating into Italy, and uniting with Prince Eugene.
At one time he was very near again summoning his troops to arms, in
consequence of a report too hastily transmitted by a general much attached
to him (General Alix, we believe,) stating that the Emperor of Austria was
displeased at the extremities to which they urged his son-in-law, and was
resolved to support him. On this report, which proved afterwards totally
unfounded, Napoleon required the maréchals to give him back his letter of
abdication. But the deed having been formally executed, and duly registered
and delivered, the maréchals held themselves bound to retain it in their own
hands, and to act upon it as the only means of saving France at this dreadful
crisis.

Buonaparte reviewed his Old Guard in the courtyard of the castle; for their
numbers were so diminished that there was space for them in that narrow
circuit. Their zealous acclamations gratified his ears as much as ever; but
when he looked on their diminished ranks, his heart failed; he retired into
the palace, and summoned Oudinot before him. "May I depend on the
adhesion of the troops?" he said—Oudinot replied in the negative, and
reminded Napoleon that he had abdicated.—"Ay, but under conditions,"
said Napoleon.—"Soldiers do not understand conditions," said the
maréchal: "they look upon your power as terminated."—"Then on that side
all is over," said Napoleon; "let us wait the news from Paris."
Macdonald, Caulaincourt, and Ney, soon afterwards
TREATY OF arrived at Fontainbleau, with the treaty which they
FONTAINBLEAU.
had concluded on the basis already announced by the
Emperor of Russia, who had taken the principal share in drawing it up.
Under his sanction the commissioners had obtained such terms as never
before were granted to a dethroned monarch, and which have little chance
to be conceded to such a one in future, while the portentous consequences
are preserved by history. By these conditions, Buonaparte was to remain
Emperor, but his sway was to be limited to the island of Elba, in the
Mediterranean, in extent twenty leagues, and containing about twelve
thousand inhabitants. He was to be recognised as one of the crowned heads
of Europe—was to be allowed body-guards, and a navy on a scale suitable
to the limits of his dominions; and, to maintain this state, a revenue of six
millions of francs, over and above the revenues of the isle of Elba, were
settled on him. Two millions and a half were also assigned in pensions to
his brothers, Josephine, and the other members of his family—a revenue
more splendid than ever King of England had at his personal disposal. It
was well argued, that if Buonaparte deserved such advantageous terms of
retirement, it was injustice to dethrone him. In other points the terms of this
treaty seemed as irreconcilable with sound policy as they are with all
former precedents. The name, dignity, military authority, and absolute
power of an Emperor, conferred on the potentate of such Liliputian
domains, were ludicrous, if it was supposed that Napoleon would remain
quiet in his retreat, and hazardous if he should seek the means of again
agitating Europe.

It was no compliment to Buonaparte's taste to invest him with the poor
shadow of his former fortune, since for him the most honourable retirement
would have been one which united privacy with safety and competence, not
that which maintained a vain parade around him, as if in mockery of what
he had formerly been. But time fatally showed, what many augured from
the beginning, that so soon as his spirit should soar beyond the narrow
circle into which it had been conjured, the imperial title and authority, the
assistance of devoted body-guards and experienced counsellors, formed a
stake with which, however small, the venturous gamester might again enter
upon the hazardous game of playing for the kingdoms he had lost. The
situation of Elba, too, as the seat of his new sovereignty, so near to Italy,
and so little removed from France, seemed calculated on purpose to favour
his resurrection at some future period as a political character.
The other stipulations of this extraordinary treaty divided a portion of
revenue secured to Napoleon among the members of his family. The most
rational was that which settled upon Maria Louisa and her son the duchies
of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, in full sovereignty. Except this, all the
other stipulations were to be made good at the expense of France, whose
Provisional Government were never consulted upon the terms granted.[49]
It was not till the bad effects of this singular treaty had been experienced,
that men inquired why and on what principle it was first conceded. A great
personage has been mentioned as its original author. Possessed of many
good and highly honourable qualities, and a steady and most important
member of the great European confederacy, it is doing the memory of the
Emperor Alexander no injury to suppose, that he remembered his education
under his French tutor La Harpe, and was not altogether free from its
effects. With these there always mingles that sort of showy sensibility
which delights in making theatrical scenes out of acts of beneficence, and
enjoying in full draughts the popular applause which they are calculated to
excite. The contagious air of Paris—the shouts—the flattery—the success to
a point hitherto unhoped for—the wish to drown unkindness of every sort,
and to spread a feast from which no one should rise discontented—the
desire to sum up all in one word, to show magnanimity in the hour of
success, seems to have laid Alexander's heart more open than the rules of
wisdom or of prudence ought to have permitted. It is generous to give, and
more generous to pardon; but to bestow favours and forgiveness at the same

moment, to secure the future fortune of a rival who lies prostrate at his feet,
to hear thanks and compliments on every hand, and from the mouths even
of the vanquished, is the most fascinating triumph of a victorious sovereign.
It is only the consequences which teach him how thriftless and unprofitable
a prodigality of beneficence often proves, and that in the attempt so to
conduct great national measures that they shall please and satisfy every one,
he must necessarily encroach on the rules both of justice and wisdom, and
may occasion, by a thoughtless indulgence of romantic sensibility, new
trains of misfortune to the whole civilized world. The other active parties in
the treaty were the King of Prussia, who had no motive to scan with
peculiar scrutiny a treaty planned by his ally the Emperor Alexander, and
the Emperor of Austria, who could not in delicacy object to stipulations in
favour of his son-in-law.
The maréchals, on the other hand, gladly received what probably they never
would have stipulated. They were aware that the army would be conciliated
with every mark of respect, however incongruous, which could be paid to
their late Emperor, and perhaps knew Buonaparte so well as to believe that
he might be gratified by preserving the external marks of imperial honour,
though upon so limited a scale. There was one power whose representative
foresaw the evils which such a treaty might occasion, and remonstrated
against them. But the evil was done, and the particulars of the treaty
adjusted, before Lord Castlereagh came to Paris. Finding that the Emperor
of Russia had acted for the best, in the name of the other allies, the English
minister refrained from risking the peace which had been made in such
urgent circumstances, by insisting upon his objections. He refused,
however, on the part of his government, to become a party to the treaty
farther than by acceding to it so far as the territorial arrangements were
concerned; but he particularly declined to acknowledge, on the part of
England, the title of Emperor, which the treaty conferred on Napoleon.[50]
Yet when we have expressed with freedom all the objections to which the
treaty of Fontainbleau seems liable, it must be owned, that the allied
sovereigns showed policy in obtaining an accommodation on almost any
terms, rather than renewing the war, by driving Napoleon to despair, and
inducing the maréchals, from a sense of honour, again to unite themselves
with his cause.

When the treaty was read over to Napoleon, he made a last appeal to his
maréchals, inviting them to follow him to the Loire or to the Alps, where
they would avoid what he felt an ignominious composition. But he was
answered by a general silence. The generals whom he addressed, knew but
too well that any efforts which he could make, must be rather in the
character of a roving chieftain, supporting his condottieri by the plunder of
the country, and that country their own, than that of a warlike monarch,
waging war for a specific purpose, and at the head of a regular army.
Napoleon saw their determination in their looks, and dismissed the council,
promising an answer on an early day, but in the meantime declining to
ratify the treaty, and demanding back his abdication from Caulaincourt; a
request which that minister again declined to comply with.
Misfortunes were now accumulating so fast around Napoleon, that they
seemed of force sufficient to break the most stubborn spirit.
Gradually the troops of the allies had spread as far as
GENERAL the banks of the Loire. Fontainbleau was surrounded
DESERTION.
by their detachments; on every side the French
officers, as well as soldiers, were leaving his service; he had no longer the
power of departing from the palace in safety.
Paris, so late the capital in which his will was law, and where to have
uttered a word in his disparagement would have been thought worse than
blasphemy, was become the scene of his rival's triumph and his own
disgrace. The shouts which used to wait on the Emperor, were now
welcoming to the Tuileries Monsieur, the brother of the restored King, who
came in character of Lieutenant-general of the kingdom;—the presses,
which had so long laboured in disseminating the praises of the Emperor,
were now exerting all their art and malice in exposing his real faults, and
imputing to him such as had no existence. He was in the condition of the
huntsman who was devoured by his own hounds.
It was yet more affecting to see courtiers, dependents, and even domestics,
who had lived in his smiles, dropping off under different pretexts to give in
their adhesion to the Bourbons, and provide for their own fortune in the
new world which had commenced at Paris. It is perhaps in such moments,
that human nature is seen in its very worst point of view; since the basest

and most selfish points of the character, which, in the train of ordinary life,
may never be awakened into existence, show themselves, and become the
ruling principle, in such revolutions. Men are then in the condition of well-
bred and decorous persons, transferred from an ordinary place of meeting to
the whirlpool of a crowd, in which they soon demean themselves with all
the selfish desire of their own safety or convenience, and all the total
disregard for that of others, which the conscious habits of politeness have
suppressed but not eradicated.
Friends and retainers dropt from the unfortunate Napoleon, like leaves from
the fading tree; and those whom shame or commiseration yet detained near
his person, waited but some decent pretexts, like a rising breath of wind, to
sweep them also away.
The defection included all ranks, from Berthier, who shared his bosom
councils, and seldom was absent from his side, to the Mameluke Roustan,
who slept across the door of his apartment, and acted as a body guard. It
would be absurd to criticise the conduct of the poor African,[51] but the fact
and mode of Berthier's departure must not escape notice. He asked
permission to go to Paris about some business, saying he would return next
day. "He will not return," said Napoleon, calmly, to the Duke of Bassano.
—"What!" said the minister, "can these be the adieus of Berthier?"—"I tell
you, yes—he will return no more."[52] The abdicated sovereign had,
however, the consolation of seeing that the attachment of several faithful
servants was only tried and purified by adversity, as gold is by fire.[53]
The family connexions, and relatives of Napoleon, as well as his familiar
friends, were separated from him in the general wreck. It will not be
forgotten, that on the day before the battle of Paris, several members of
Napoleon's administration set out with the Empress Maria Louisa, to escape
from the approaching action. They halted at Blois, where they were joined
by Joseph, and other members of the Buonaparte family. For some time this
reunion maintained the character and language of a council of regency,
dispersed proclamations, and endeavoured to act as a government. The
news of the taking of Paris, and the subsequent events, disposed Joseph and
Jerome Buonaparte to remove themselves to the provinces beyond the
Loire. But Maria Louisa refused to accompany them, and while the point
was yet contested, Count Schouwalow, one of the Austrian ministers,[54]

arrived to take her under his protection. The ephemeral regency then broke
up, and fled in different directions; the brothers of Buonaparte taking the
direction of Switzerland, while Cardinal Fesch, and the mother of Napoleon
retreated to Rome.
Maria Louisa made more than one effort to join her husband, but they were
discouraged on the part of Napoleon himself, who, while he continued to
ruminate on renewing the war, could not desire to have the Empress along
with him in such an adventure.[55] Shortly afterwards, the Emperor of
Austria visited his daughter and her son, then at Rambouillet, and gave her
to understand that she was, for some time at least, to remain separate from
her husband, and that her son and she were to return to Vienna along with
him. She returned, therefore, to her father's protection.
It must be also here mentioned, as an extraordinary
DEATH OF addition to this tale of calamity, that Josephine, the
JOSEPHINE—
FONTAINBLEAU. former wife of Buonaparte, did not long survive his
downfall. It seemed as if the Obi-woman of Martinico
had spoke truth; for, at the time when Napoleon parted from the sharer of
his early fortunes, his grandeur was on the wane, and her death took place
but a few weeks subsequent to his being dethroned and exiled. The Emperor
of Russia had visited this lady, and showed her some attention, with which
Napoleon, for reasons we cannot conjecture, was extremely displeased. She
was amply provided for by the treaty of Fontainbleau, but did not survive to
reap any benefit from the provision, as she shortly after sickened and died
at her beautiful villa of Malmaison. She was buried on the 3d of June, at the
village of Ruel. A vast number of the lower class attended the obsequies; for
she had well deserved the title of patroness of the poor.[56]
While we endeavour to sum the mass of misfortunes with which
Buonaparte was overwhelmed at this crisis, it seems as if Fortune had been
determined to show that she did not intend to reverse the lot of humanity,
even in the case of one who had been so long her favourite, but that she
retained the power of depressing the obscure soldier, whom she had raised
to be almost king of Europe, in a degree as humiliating as his exaltation had
been splendid. All that three years before seemed inalienable from his
person, was now reversed. The victor was defeated, the monarch was
dethroned, the ransomer of prisoners was in captivity, the general was

deserted by his soldiers, the master abandoned by his domestics, the brother
parted from his brethren, the husband severed from the wife, and the father
torn from his only child. To console him for the fairest and largest empire
that ambition ever lorded it over, he had, with the mock name of emperor, a
petty isle to which he was to retire, accompanied by the pity of such friends
as dared express their feelings, the unrepressed execrations of many of his
former subjects, who refused to regard his present humiliation as an amends
for what he had made them suffer during his power, and the ill-concealed
triumph of the enemies into whose hands he had been delivered.
A Roman would have seen, in these accumulated disasters, a hint to direct
his sword's point against his breast; a man of better faith would have turned
his eye back on his own conduct, and having read, in his misuse of
prosperity, the original source of those calamities, would have remained
patient and contrite under the consequences of his ambition. Napoleon
belonged to the Roman school of philosophy; and it is confidently reported,
especially by Baron Fain, his secretary, though it has not been universally
believed, that he designed, at this extremity, to escape from life by an act of
suicide.
The Emperor, according to this account, had carried with him, ever since
the retreat from Moscow, a packet containing a preparation of opium, made
up in the same manner with that used by Condorcet for self-destruction. His
valet-de-chambre, in the night betwixt the 12th and 13th of April, heard him
arise and pour something into a glass of water, drink, and return to bed. In a
short time afterwards, the man's attention was called by sobs and stifled
groans—an alarm took place in the chateau—some of the principal persons
were roused, and repaired to Napoleon's chamber. Yvan, the surgeon, who
had procured him the poison, was also summoned; but hearing the Emperor
complain that the operation of the potion was not quick enough, he was
seized with a panic terror, and fled from the palace at full gallop. Napoleon
took the remedies recommended, and a long fit of stupor ensued, with
profuse perspiration. He awakened much exhausted, and surprised at
finding himself still alive; he said aloud, after a few moments' reflection,
"Fate will not have it so," and afterwards appeared reconciled to undergo
his destiny, without similar attempts at personal violence.[57] There is, as we
have already hinted, a difference of opinion concerning the cause of
Napoleon's illness, some imputing it to indigestion. The fact of his having

been very much indisposed is, however, indisputable. A general of the
highest distinction transacted business with Napoleon on the morning of the
13th April. He seemed pale and dejected, as from recent and exhausting
illness. His only dress was a night-gown and slippers, and he drank from
time to time a quantity of tisan, or some such liquid, which was placed
beside him, saying he had suffered severely during the night, but that his
complaint had left him.
After this crisis, and having ratified the treaty which his maréchals had
made for him, Napoleon appeared more at his ease than he had been for
some time before, and conversed frankly with his attendants upon the
affairs of France.
He owned, that, after all, the Government of the Bourbons would best suit
France, as tending to reconcile all parties. "Louis," he said, "has talents and
means; he is old and infirm; he will not, I think, choose to give his name to
a bad reign. If he is wise, he will occupy my bed, and content himself with
changing the sheets. But," he continued, "he must treat the army well, and
take care not to look back on the past, otherwise his reign will be of brief
endurance."
He also mentioned the inviolability of the sale of the national domains, as
the woof upon which the whole web depended; cut one thread of it, he said,
and the whole will be unravelled. Of the ancient noblesse and people of
fashion, he spoke in embittered language, saying they were an English
colony in the midst of France, who desired only their own privileges, and
would act as readily for as against him.
"If I were in Louis's situation," he said, "I would not keep up the Imperial
Guard. I myself have treated them too well not to have insured their
attachment; and it will be his policy to dismiss them, giving good pensions
to such officers and soldiers as choose to retire from service, and
preferment in the line to others who incline to remain. This done, he should
choose another guard from the army at large."
After these remarkable observations, which, in fact, contained an
anticipation of much that afterwards took place, Napoleon looked round
upon his officers, and made them the following exhortation:—"Gentlemen,
when I remain no longer with you, and when you have another government,

it will become you to attach yourselves to it frankly, and serve it as
faithfully as you have served me. I request, and even command you to do
this; therefore, all who desire leave to go to Paris have my permission to do
so, and those who remain here will do well to send in their adhesion to the
government of the Bourbons." Yet while Napoleon used this manful and
becoming language to his followers, on the subject of the change of
government, it is clear that there lurked in his bosom a persuasion that the
Bourbons were surrounded with too many difficulties to be able to
surmount them, and that Destiny had still in reserve for him a distinguished
part in the annals of Europe.
In a private interview with Macdonald, whose part in the abdication we
have mentioned, he expressed himself warmly satisfied with his conduct,
regretting that he had not more early known his value, and proposed he
should accept a parting gift. "It is only," he said, anticipating the maréchal's
objections, "the present of a soldier to his comrade." And indeed it was
chosen with great delicacy, being a beautiful Turkish sabre, which
Napoleon had himself received from Ibrahim Bey while in Egypt.[58]
Napoleon having now resigned himself entirely to his
LEAVES fate, whether for good or evil, prepared, on the 20th
FONTAINBLEAU.
April, to depart for his place of retreat. But first he
had the painful task of bidding farewell to the body in the universe most
attached to him, and to which he was probably most attached—his
celebrated Imperial Guard. Such of them as could be collected were drawn
out before him in review. Some natural tears dropped from his eyes, and his
features had the marks of strong emotion, while reviewing for the last time,
as he must then have thought likely, the companions of so many victories.
He advanced to them on horseback, dismounted, and took his solemn leave.
"All Europe," he said, "had armed against him; France herself had deserted
him, and chosen another dynasty. He might," he said, "have maintained
with his soldiers a civil war of years, but it would have rendered France
unhappy. Be faithful," he continued (and the words were remarkable,) "to
the new sovereign whom France has chosen. Do not lament my fate; I will
always be happy while I know you are so. I could have died—nothing was
easier—but I will always follow the road of honour. I will record with my
pen the deeds we have done together.[59] I cannot embrace you all, but I
embrace your general,"—(he pressed the general to his bosom.)—"Bring

hither the eagle,"—(he embraced the standard, and concluded,)—"Beloved
eagle, may the kisses I bestow on you long resound in the hearts of the
brave!—Adieu, my children—Adieu, my brave companions—Surround me
once more—Adieu." Drowned in grief, the veteran soldiers heard the
farewell of their dethroned leader; sighs and murmurs broke from their
ranks, but the emotion burst out in no threats or remonstrances. They
appeared resigned to the loss of their general, and to yield, like him, to
necessity.

CHAPTER LXXXI.
Commissioners appointed to escort Napoleon—He leaves
Fontainbleau on the 20th April—His interview with Augereau at
Valence—Expressions of popular dislike towards Napoleon in
the South of France—Fears for his personal safety—His own
agitation and precautions—He arrives at Frejus, and embarks
on board the Undaunted, with the British and Austrian
Commissioners—Arrives at Elba on 4th May.
Upon his unpleasant journey, Napoleon was attended by Bertrand and
Drouet, honourably faithful to the adverse fortunes of the master who had
been their benefactor when in prosperity. Four delegates from the allied
powers accompanied him to his new dominions. Their names were—
General Schouwaloff, on the part of Russia; the Austrian General, Kohler;
Colonel Sir Niel Campbell, as representing Great Britain; and the General
Baron Truchsess Waldbourg, as the commissioner of Prussia. Napoleon
received the three first with much personal civility, but seemed to resent the
presence of the representative of Prussia, a country which had been at one
time the subject of his scorn, and always of his hatred. It galled him that she
should assume an immediate share in deciding upon his fate.
He received the English commissioner with particular expressions of
esteem, saying he desired to pass to Elba in an English vessel, and was
pleased to have the escort of an English officer, "Your nation," he said, "has
an elevated character, for which I have the highest esteem. I desired to raise
the French people to such a pitch of sentiment, but——." He stopt, and
seemed affected. He spoke with much civility to the Austrian General
Kohler, but expressed himself somewhat bitterly on the subject of Russia.
He even hinted to the Austrian, that should he not be satisfied with his
reception in Elba, he might possibly choose to retire to Great Britain;[60]
and asked General Kohler, whether he thought he would not receive
protection from them. "Yes, sire," replied the Austrian, "the more readily,
that your Majesty has never made war in that country."

Napoleon proceeded to give a farewell audience to the Duke of Bassano,
and seemed nettled when an aide-de-camp, on the part of General Bertrand,
announced that the hour fixed for departing was arrived. "Good," he said.
"This is something new. Since when is it that my motions have been
regulated by the watch of the grand maréchal? I will not depart till it is my
pleasure—perhaps I will not depart at all."[61] This, however, was only a
momentary sally of impatience.
Napoleon left Fontainbleau the 20th April, 1814, at
LEAVES eleven o'clock in the morning. His retinue occupied
FONTAINBLEAU—
AUGEREAU. fourteen carriages, and required relays of thirty pairs
of post horses. On the journey, at least during its
commencement, he affected a sort of publicity, sending for the public
authorities of towns, and investigating into the state of the place, as he was
wont to do on former occasions. The cries of Vive l'Empereur were
frequently heard, and seemed to give him fresh spirits. On the other hand,
the mayors, and sub-prefects, whom he interrogated concerning the decay
of many of the towns, displeased him, by ascribing the symptoms of
dilapidation to the war, or the conscription; and in several places the people
wore the white cockade, and insulted his passage with shouts of Vive le Roi.
In a small barrack, near Valence, Napoleon, upon 24th April, met Augereau,
his old companion in the campaigns of Italy, and in some degree his tutor in
the art of war. The maréchal had resented some of the reflections which
occurred in the bulletins, censuring his operations for the protection of
Lyons. When, therefore, he issued a proclamation to his army, on the recent
change, he announced Napoleon as one who had brought on his own ruin,
and yet dared not die. An angry interview took place, and the following
words are said to have been exchanged between them:—"I have thy
proclamation," said Napoleon. "Thou hast betrayed me."—"Sire," replied
the maréchal, "it is you who have betrayed France and the army, by
sacrificing both to a frantic spirit of ambition."—"Thou hast chosen thyself
a new master," said Napoleon.—"I have no account to render to you on that
score," replied the general.—"Thou hast no courage," replied Buonaparte.
—"'Tis thou hast none," replied the general, and turned his back, without
any mark of respect, on his late master.[62]

At Montelimart, the exiled Emperor heard the last expressions of regard and
sympathy. He was now approaching Provence, a region of which he had
never possessed the affections, and was greeted with execrations and cries
of—"Perish the Tyrant!"—"Down with the butcher of our children!"
Matters looked worse as they advanced. On Monday, 25th April, when Sir
Niel Campbell, having set out before Napoleon, arrived at Avignon, the
officer upon guard anxiously inquired if the escort attending the Emperor
was of strength sufficient to resist a popular disturbance, which was already
on foot at the news of his arrival. The English commissioner entreated him
to protect the passage of Napoleon by every means possible. It was agreed
that the fresh horses should be posted at a different quarter of the town from
that where it was natural to have expected the change. Yet the mob
discovered and surrounded them, and it was with difficulty that Napoleon
was saved from popular fury. Similar dangers attended him elsewhere; and,
in order to avoid assassination, the Ex-Emperor of France was obliged to
disguise himself as a postilion, or a domestic, anxiously altering from time
to time the mode of his dress; ordering the servants to smoke in his
presence; and inviting the commissioners, who travelled with him, to
whistle or sing, that the incensed people might not be aware who was in the
carriage. At Orgon, the mob brought before him his own effigy dabbled
with blood, and stopped his carriage till they displayed it before his eyes;
and, in short, from Avignon to La Calade, he was grossly insulted in every
town and village, and, but for the anxious interference of the
commissioners, he would probably have been torn to pieces. The
unkindness of the people seemed to make much impression on him. He
even shed tears. He showed also, more fear of assassination than seemed
consistent with his approved courage; but it must be recollected, that the
danger was of a new and peculiarly horrible description, and calculated to
appal many to whom the terrors of a field of battle were familiar. The
bravest soldier might shudder at a death like that of the De Witts. At La
Calade he was equally nervous, and exhibited great fear of poison. When he
reached Aix, precautions were taken by detachments of gendarmes, as well
as by parties of the allied troops, to ensure his personal safety.[63] At a
chateau called Bouillidou, he had an interview with his sister Pauline. The
curiosity of the lady of the house, and two or three females, made them also
find their way to his presence. They saw a gentleman in an Austrian
uniform. "Whom do you wish to see, ladies?"—"The Emperor

Napoleon."—"I am Napoleon."—"You jest, sir," replied the ladies.
—"What! I suppose you expected to see me look more mischievous? O yes
—confess that, since fortune is adverse to me, I must look like a rascal, a
miscreant, a brigand. But do you know how all this has happened? Merely
because I wished to place France above England."
At length he arrived at Frejus, the very port that
FREJUS—VOYAGE received him, when, coming from Egypt, he was on
TO ELBA.
the verge of commencing that astonishing career, now
about to terminate, to all earthly appearance, at the very point from which
he had started. He shut himself up in a solitary apartment, which he
traversed with impatient and hasty steps, sometimes pausing to watch from
the window the arrival of the vessels, one of which was to transport him
from France, as it then seemed, for ever. The French frigate, the Dryade,
and a brig called the Inconstant, had come from Toulon to Frejus, and lay
ready to perform this duty. But, reluctant perhaps to sail under the Bourbon
flag, Napoleon preferred embarking on board his Britannic Majesty's ship
the Undaunted, commanded by Captain Usher.[64] This vessel being placed
at the direction of the British commissioner, Sir Niel Campbell, he readily
acquiesced in Napoleon's wish to have his passage in her to Elba. It was
eleven at night on the 28th ere he finally embarked, under a salute of
twenty-one guns. "Adieu, Cæsar, and his fortune," said the Russian envoy.
The Austrian and British commissioners accompanied him on his voyage.
[65]

During the passage, Buonaparte seemed to recover his spirits, and
conversed with great frankness and ease with Captain Usher and Sir Niel
Campbell. The subject chiefly led to high-coloured statements of the
schemes which he had been compelled to leave unexecuted, with severe
strictures on his enemies, and much contempt for their means of opposition.
The following particulars are amusing, and, so far as we know, have never
appeared:
He was inquisitive about the discipline of the vessel, which he commended
highly, but assured Captain Usher, that had his power lasted for five years
longer, he would have had three hundred sail of the line. Captain Usher
naturally asked how they were to be manned. Napoleon replied, that he had
resolved on a naval conscription in all the seaports and sea-coast frontier of

France, which would man his fleet, which was to be exercised in the Zuyder
Zee, until fit for going to the open sea. The British officer scarce suppressed
a smile as he replied, that the marine conscripts would make a sorry figure
in a gale of wind.
To the Austrian envoy, Napoleon's constant subject was the enlarged power
of Russia, which, if she could by any means unite Poland into a healthful
and integral part of her army, would, he stated, overwhelm Europe.
On a subsequent occasion, the Emperor favoured his auditors with a new
and curious history of the renewal of the war with England. According to
this edition, the isle of Malta was a mere pretext. Shortly after the peace of
Amiens, he said, Mr. Addington, then the English Prime Minister, proposed
to him a renewal of Mr. Pitt's commercial treaty with France; but that he,
Napoleon, desirous to encourage the interior industry of France, had refused
to enter into such a treaty, excepting upon terms of reciprocity; namely, that
if France received so many millions of English import, England was to be
obliged to take in return the same quantity of French productions. These
terms were declined by Mr. Addington, on which Napoleon declared there
should be no treaty at all, unless his principles were adopted. "Then,"
replied Mr. Addington, as quoted by Buonaparte, "there must be hostilities;
for, unless the people of England have the advantages of commerce on the
terms they are accustomed to, they will force me to declare war."—And the
war took place accordingly, of which, he again averred, England's
determination to recover the advantages of the treaty of commerce between
Vergennes and Pitt, was the real cause.
"Now," he continued, kindling as he spoke, "England has no power which
can oppose her system. She can pursue it without limits. There will be a
treaty on very unequal terms, which will not afford due encouragement to
the manufactures of France. The Bourbons are poor devils"——he checked
himself—"they are grand seigneurs, content to return to their estates and
draw their rents; but if the people of France see that, and become
discontented, the Bourbons will be turned off in six months." He seemed
again to recollect himself, like one who thinks he has spoken too much, and
was perceptibly more reserved for the rest of the day.

This curious ebullition was concocted according to Napoleon's peculiar
manner of blending what might be true in his narrative, with what was
intended to forward his own purpose, and mingling it with so much
falsehood and delusion, that it resembled what the English poet says of the
Catholic Plot,

"Some truth there was, but mix'd and dash'd with lies."

It is probable that, after the peace of Amiens, Lord Sidmouth might have
wished to renew the commercial treaty; but it is absolutely false that
Napoleon's declining to do so had any effect upon the renewal of hostilities.
His prophecy that his own downfall would be followed by the English
urging upon France a disadvantageous commercial treaty, has proved
equally false; and it is singular enough that he who, on board the
Undaunted, declared that entering into such a measure would be the
destruction of the Bourbons, should, while at St. Helena, ridicule and
censure Lord Castlereagh for not having secured to Britain that commercial
supremacy, the granting of which he had represented as the probable cause
of such a result.[66] Thus did his colouring, if not his facts, change
according to the mood of the moment.
While on board the Undaunted, Napoleon spoke with great freedom of the
facility with which he had outwitted and defeated the allies during the last
campaign. "The Silesian army," he said, "had given him most trouble. The
old devil, Blucher, was no sooner defeated than he was willing to fight
again." But he considered his victory over Schwartzenberg as certain, save
for the defection of Marmont. Much more he said, with great apparent
frankness, and seemed desirous to make himself in every respect agreeable
to his companions on board. Even the seamen, who at first regarded him
with wonder, mixed with suspicion, did not escape the charm of his
affability, by which they were soon won over, all excepting the boatswain
Hinton, a tar of the old school, who could never hear the Emperor's praises
without muttering the vulgar, but expressive phrase—"Humbug."[67]
With the same good-humour, Napoleon admitted any slight jest which
might be passed, even at his own expense. When off Corsica, he proposed
that Captain Usher should fire a gun to bring-to a fishing-boat, from which
he hoped to hear some news. Captain Usher excused himself, saying, such

an act of hostility towards a neutral would denationalize her, in direct
contradiction of Napoleon's doctrine concerning the rights of nations. The
Emperor laughed heartily. At another time he amused himself by supposing
what admirable caricatures his voyage would give rise to in London. He
seemed wonderfully familiar with that species of satire, though so
peculiarly English.
Upon the 4th of May, when they arrived within sight
LANDS AT PORTO of Porto Ferrajo, the principal town of Elba, which
FERRAJO.
has a very fine harbour, they found the island in some
confusion. The inhabitants had been recently in a state of insurrection
against the French, which had been quieted by the governor and the troops
giving in their adhesion to the Bourbon government. This state of things
naturally increased Napoleon's apprehensions, which had never entirely
subsided since the dangers he underwent in Provence. Even on board the
Undaunted, he had requested that a sergeant of marines might sleep each
night on the outside of his cabin-door, a trusty domestic also mounting
guard within. He now showed some unwillingness, when they made the
island, to the ship running right under the batteries; and when he first
landed in the morning, it was at an early hour, and in disguise, having
previously obtained from Captain Usher, a sergeant's party of marines to
attend him.
Having returned on board to breakfast, after his incognito visit to his island,
the Emperor of Elba, as he may now be styled, went on shore in form, about
two o'clock, with the commissioners, receiving, at leaving the Undaunted, a
royal salute. On the beach, he was received by the governor, prefect, and
other official persons, with such means of honour as they possessed, who
conducted him to the Hôtel-de-Ville, in procession, preceded by a wretched
band of fiddlers. The people welcomed him with many shouts. The name of
Buonaparte had been unpopular among them as Emperor of France, but
they anticipated considerable advantages from his residing among them as
their own particular sovereign.

CHAPTER LXXXII.
Elba—Napoleon's mode of Life and occupation there—Effects of
his residence at Elba upon the adjoining Kingdom of Italy—He
is visited by his Mother and the Princess Pauline—and by a
Polish lady—Sir Niel Campbell the only Commissioner left at
Elba—Napoleon's Conversations on the State of Europe—His
pecuniary Difficulties—and fears of Assassination—Symptoms
of some approaching crisis—A part of the Old Guard disbanded
—Napoleon escapes from Elba—Fruitless pursuit by Sir Niel
Campbell.
Elba, to the limits of which the mighty empire of
ELBA. Napoleon was now contracted, is an island opposite
to the coast of Tuscany, about sixty miles in
circumference. The air is healthy, excepting in the neighbourhood of the salt
marshes. The country is mountainous, and, having all the florid vegetation
of Italy, is, in general, of a romantic character. It produces little grain, but
exports a considerable quantity of wines; and its iron ore has been famous
since the days of Virgil, who describes Elba as,

"Insula inexhaustis chalybum generosa metallis."

There are also other mineral productions. The island boasts two good
harbours, and is liberally productive of vines, olives, fruits and maize.
Perhaps, if an empire could be supposed to exist within such a brief space,
Elba possesses so much both of beauty and variety, as might constitute the
scene of a summer night's dream of sovereignty. Buonaparte seemed to lend
himself to the illusion, as, accompanied by Sir Niel Campbell, he rode in
his usual exploring mood, around the shores of his little state. He did not
fail to visit the iron mines, and being informed the annual produce was
500,000 francs, "These, then," he said, "are mine." But being reminded that
he had conferred that revenue on the Legion of Honour, he exclaimed,
"Where was my head when I gave such a grant! But I have made many
foolish decrees of that sort."

One or two of the poorer class of inhabitants, knelt, and even prostrated
themselves when they met him. He seemed disgusted, and imputed this
humiliating degree of abasement to the wretchedness of their education,
under the auspices of the monks. On these excursions he showed the same
apprehension of assassination which had marked his journey to Frejus. Two
couriers, well armed, rode before him, and examined every suspicious spot.
But as he climbed a mountain above Ferrajo, and saw the ocean approach
its feet in almost every direction, the expression broke from him,
accompanied with a good-humoured smile, "It must be confessed my isle is
very little."
He professed, however, to be perfectly resigned to his fate; often spoke of
himself as a man politically dead, and claimed credit for what he said upon
public affairs, as having no remaining interest in them. He professed his
intentions were to devote himself exclusively to science and literature. At
other times, he said he would live in his little island, like a justice of peace
in a country town in England.
The character of Napoleon, however, was little known to himself, if he
seriously thought that his restless and powerful mind could be satisfied with
the investigation of abstract truths, or amused by the leisure of literary
research. He compared his abdication to that of Charles V., forgetting that
the Austrian Emperor's retreat was voluntary, that he had a turn towards
mechanical pursuits, and that even with these means of solace, Charles
became discontented with his retirement. The character of Buonaparte was,
on the contrary, singularly opposed to a state of seclusion. His propensities
continued to be exactly of the same description at Elba, which had so long
terrified and disquieted Europe. To change the external face of what was
around him; to imagine extensive alterations, without accurately
considering the means by which they were to be accomplished; to work
within his petty province such alterations as its limits permitted; to resume,
in short, upon a small scale, those changes which he had attempted upon
that which was most magnificent; to apply to Elba the system of policy
which he had exercised so long in Europe, was the only mode in which he
seems to have found amusement and exercise for the impatient energies of a
temper, accustomed from his early youth to work upon others, but apt to
become lethargic, sullen, and discontented, when it was compelled, for want
of other exercise, to recoil upon itself.

During the first two or three weeks of his residence in the island of Elba,
Napoleon had already planned improvements, or alterations and innovations
at least, which, had they been to be carried into execution with the means
which he possessed, would have perhaps taken his lifetime to execute. It
was no wonder, indeed, accustomed as he had been to speak the word, and
to be obeyed, and to consider the improvements which he meditated as
those which became the head of a great empire, that he should not have
been able to recollect that his present operations respected a petty islet,
where magnificence was to be limited, not only by utility, but by the want
of funds.
In the course of two or three days' travelling, with the same rapidity which
characterised his movements in his frequent progresses through France, and
showing the same impatience of rest or delay, Napoleon had visited every
spot in his little island, mines, woods, salt-marshes, harbours, fortifications,
and whatever was worthy of an instant's consideration, and had meditated
improvements and innovations respecting every one of them. Till he had
done this he was impatient of rest, and having done so, he lacked
occupation.
One of his first, and perhaps most characteristic proposals, was to
aggrandize and extend his Liliputian dominions by occupation of an
uninhabited island, called Rianosa, which had been left desolate on account
of the frequent descents of the corsairs. He sent thirty of his guards, with
ten of the independent company belonging to the island, upon this
expedition—(what a contrast to those which he had formerly directed!)—
sketched out a plan of fortifications, and remarked, with complacency,
"Europe will say that I have already made a conquest."
In an incredibly short time Napoleon had also planned several roads, had
contrived means to convey water from the mountains to Porto Ferrajo,[68]
designed two palaces, one for the country, the other in the city, a separate
mansion for his sister Pauline, stables for one hundred and fifty horses, a
lazaretto, buildings for accommodation of the tunny fishery, and salt-works
on a new construction, at Porto Longone. The Emperor of Elba proposed,
also, purchasing various domains, and had the price estimated; for the
inclination of the proprietor was not reckoned essential to the transaction.
He ended by establishing four places of residence in the different quarters

of the island; and his amusement consisted in constant change and
alteration. He travelled from one to another with the restlessness of a bird in
a cage, which springs from perch to perch, since it is prevented from
winging the air, its natural element. It seemed as if the magnitude of the
object was not so much the subject of his consideration, providing it
afforded immediate scope for employing his constant and stimulated desire
of activity. He was like the thorough-bred gamester, who, deprived of the
means of depositing large stakes, will rather play at small game than leave
the table.
Napoleon placed his court also upon an ambitious scale, having more
reference to what he had so long been, than to what he actually now had
been reduced to, while, at the same time, the furniture and internal
accommodations of the imperial palace were meaner by far than those of an
English gentleman of ordinary rank. The proclamation of the French
governor on resigning his authority to Napoleon, was well and becomingly
expressed; but the spiritual mandate of the Vicar-general Arrighi, a relation
of Buonaparte's, which was designed to congratulate the people of Elba on
becoming the subjects of the Great Napoleon, was extremely ludicrous.
"Elevated to the sublime honour of receiving the anointed of the Lord," he
described the exhaustless wealth which was to flow in upon the people,
from the strangers who came to look upon the hero. The exhortation
sounded as if the isle had become the residence of some nondescript animal,
which was to be shown for money.
The interior of Napoleon's household, though reduced to thirty-five persons,
still held the titles, and affected the rank, proper to an imperial court, of
which it will be presently seen the petty sovereign made a political use. He
displayed a national flag, having a red bend dexter in a white field, the bend
bearing three bees. To dignify his capital, having discovered that the ancient
name of Porto Ferrajo, was Comopoli (i. e. the city of Como,) he
commanded it to be called Cosmopoli, or the city of all nations.
His body-guard, of about 700 infantry, and 80 cavalry, seemed to occupy as
much of Napoleon's attention as the grand army did formerly. They were
constantly exercised, especially in throwing shot and shells; and, in a short
time, he was observed to be anxious about obtaining recruits for them. This
was no difficult matter, where all the world had so lately been in arms, and

engaged in a profession which many, doubtless, for whom a peaceful life
had few charms, laid aside with regret, and longed to resume.
As early as the month of July 1814, there was a considerable degree of
fermentation in Italy, to which the neighbourhood of Elba, the residence of
several members of the Buonaparte family, and the sovereignty of Murat,
occasioned a general resort of Buonaparte's friends and admirers. Every day
this agitation increased, and various arts were resorted to for disseminating
a prospect of Napoleon's future return to power. Sundry parties of recruits
came over to Elba from Italy to enlist in his guards, and two persons
employed in this service were arrested at Leghorn, in whose possession
were found written lists, containing the names of several hundred persons
willing to serve Napoleon. The species of ferment and discontent thus
produced in Italy, was much increased by the impolitic conduct of Prince
Rospigliosi, the civil governor of Tuscany, who re-established in their full
force every form and regulation formerly practised under the Dukes of
Tuscany, broke up the establishment of the museum, which had been
instituted by Buonaparte's sister, and, while he returned to all the absurdities
of the old government, relaxed none of the imposts which the French had
laid on.
Napoleon's conduct towards the refugees who found their way to Elba, may
be judged from the following sketch. On the 11th of July, Colomboni,
commandant of a battalion of the 4th regiment of the line in Italy, was
presented to the Emperor as newly arrived. "Well, Colomboni, your
business in Elba?"—"First, to pay my duty to your Majesty; secondly, to
offer myself to carry a musket among your guards."—"That is too low a
situation, you must have something better," said Napoleon; and instantly
named him to an appointment of 1200 francs yearly, though it appears the
Emperor himself was then in great distress for money.
About the middle of summer, Napoleon was visited by his mother, and his
sister the Princess Pauline.[69] At this time, too, he seems to have expected
to be rejoined by his wife Maria Louisa, who, it was said, was coming to
take possession of her Italian dominions. Their separation, with the
incidents which happened before Paris, was the only subject on which he
appeared to lose temper. Upon these topics he used strong and violent
language. He said, that interdicting him intercourse with his wife and son,

excited universal reprobation at Vienna—that no such instance of
inhumanity and injustice could be pointed out in modern times—that the
Empress was detained a prisoner, an orderly officer constantly attending
upon her—finally, that she had been given to understand before she left
Orleans, that she was to obtain permission to join him at the island of Elba,
though it was now denied her. It was possible, he proceeded, to see a shade
of policy, though none whatever of justice, in this separation. Austria had
meant to unite the child of her sovereign with the Emperor of France, but
was desirous of breaking off the connexion with the Emperor of Elba, as it
might be apprehended that the respect due to the daughter of the House of
Hapsburg would, had she resided with her husband, have reflected too
much lustre on the abdicated sovereign.
The Austrian commissioner, General Kohler, on the other hand, insisted that
the separation took place by the Empress Maria Louisa's consent, and even
at her request; and hinted, that Napoleon's desire to have her society was
dictated by other feelings than those of domestic affection. But allowing
that Napoleon's views in so earnestly desiring the company of his wife
might be political, we can see neither justice nor reason in refusing a
request, which would have been granted to a felon condemned to
transportation.
We have not thought it necessary to disturb the narrative of important
events by noticing details which belong rather to romance; but as we are
now treating of Napoleon in his more private character, a mysterious
circumstance may be mentioned. About the end of August 1814, a lady
arrived at the Isle of Elba, from Leghorn, with a boy about five or six years
old. She was received by Napoleon with great attention, but at the same
time with an air of much secrecy, and was lodged in a small and very retired
villa, in the most remote corner of the island; from whence, after remaining
two days, she re-embarked for Naples. The Elbese naturally concluded that
this must have been the Empress Maria Louisa and her son. But the
individual was known by those near Napoleon's person to be a Polish lady
from Warsaw, and the boy was the offspring of an intrigue betwixt her and
Napoleon several years before.[70] The cause of her speedy departure might
be delicacy towards Maria Louisa, and the fear of affording the Court of
Vienna a pretext for continuing the separation, of which Napoleon
complained. In fact, the Austrians, in defence of their own conduct, imputed

irregularities to that of Buonaparte; but the truth of these charges would be
no edifying subject of investigation.
About the middle of May, Baron Kohler took farewell of Napoleon, to
return to Vienna. He was an Austrian general of rank and reputation; a
particular friend and old schoolfellow of Prince Schwartzenberg. The scene
of Napoleon's parting with this gentleman was quite pathetic on the
Emperor's side. He wept as he embraced General Kohler, and entreated him
to procure, if possible, his re-union with his wife and child—calling him the
preserver of his life—regretted his poverty, which prevented his bestowing
on him some valuable token of remembrance—finally, folding the Austrian
general in his arms, he held him there for some time, repeating expressions
of the warmest attachment. This sensibility existed all upon one side; for an
English gentleman who witnessed the scene, having asked Kohler
afterwards what he was thinking of while locked in the Emperor's embraces
—"of Judas Iscariot," answered the Austrian.
After the departure of Baron Kohler, Colonel Sir Niel Campbell was the
only one of the four commissioners who continued to remain at Elba by
orders of the British Cabinet. It was difficult to say what his office really
was, or what were his instructions. He had neither power, title, nor means,
to interfere with Napoleon's motions. The Emperor had been recognised by
a treaty—wise or foolish, it was too late to ask—as an independent
sovereign. It was therefore only as an envoy that Sir Niel Campbell could
be permitted to reside at his court; and as an envoy also, not of the usual
character, for settling affairs concerning the court from which he was
despatched, but in a capacity not generally avowed—the office, namely, of
observing the conduct of that at which he was sent to reside. In fact, Sir
Niel Campbell had no direct or ostensible situation whatever, and of this the
French minister of Elba soon took advantage. Drouet, the governor of Porto
Ferrajo, made such particular inquiries into the character assumed by the
British envoy, and the length of his stay, as obliged the latter to say that his
orders were to remain in Elba till the breaking up of the Congress, which
was now settling the affairs of Europe; but if his orders should direct him to
continue there after that period, he would apply to have his situation placed
on some recognised public footing, which he did not doubt would be
respectable.

Napoleon did not oppose or murmur at the continued, though equivocal
residence of Sir Niel Campbell at Elba; he affected, on the contrary, to be
pleased with it. For a considerable time, he even seemed to seek the society
of the British envoy, held frequent intercourse with him, and conversed with
apparent confidence upon public affairs. The notes of such conversations
are now before us; and though it is, on the one hand, evident that
Napoleon's expressions were arranged, generally speaking, on a
premeditated plan, yet, on the other, it is equally certain, that his ardent
temperament, when once engaged in discourse, led him to discover more of
his own private thoughts than he would, on cool reflection, have suffered to
escape him.
On the 16th September 1814, for example, Sir Niel Campbell had an
audience of three hours, during which, Napoleon, with his habitual
impatience of a sedentary posture, walked from one end of the room to the
other, and talked incessantly. He was happy, he said, that Sir Niel remained
in Elba, pour rompre la chimère, (to destroy, namely, the idea, that he,
Buonaparte, had further intention of disturbing the peace of Europe.) "I
think," he continued, "of nothing beyond the verge of my little isles. I could
have supported the war for twenty years, if I had chosen. I am now a
deceased person, occupied with nothing but my family, my retreat, my
house, my cows, and my poultry." He then spoke in the highest terms of the
English character, protesting it had always had his sincere admiration,
notwithstanding the abuse directed against it in his name. He requested the
British envoy to lose no time in procuring him an English grammar. It is a
pity Mr. Hinton, the boatswain, was not present, to have accompanied this
eulogy with his favourite ejaculation.
In the rest of the conversation, the Elbese Emperor was probably more
serious. He inquired with eagerness after the real state of France. Sir Niel
Campbell informed him, that all the information he had been able to collect,
ascribed great wisdom and moderation to the sovereign and government;
but allowed that those who had lost good appointments, the prisoners of war
who had returned from abroad, and great part of the army who remained
embodied, were still attached to Napoleon. In answer, Buonaparte seemed
to admit the stability of the throne, supported as it was by the maréchals and
great officers; but he derided the idea of affording France the benefit of a
free constitution. He said, the attempt to imitate that of Great Britain was a

farce, a caricature. It was impossible, he observed, to imitate the two
Houses of Parliament, for that respectable families like those composing the
aristocracy of England, did not now exist in France. He talked with
bitterness of the cession of Belgium, and of France being deprived of
Antwerp. He himself spoke, he observed, as a spectator, without hopes or
interest, for he had none; but thus to have mortified the French, showed an
ignorance of the national character. Their chief feeling was for pride and
glory, and the allies need not look forward to a state of satisfaction and
tranquillity under such circumstances as France was now placed in. "The
French," he said, "were conquered only by a great superiority of number,
therefore were not humiliated; and the population had not suffered to the
extent alleged, for he had always spared their lives, and exposed those of
Italians, Germans, and other foreigners." He remarked that the gratitude of
Louis XVIII. to Great Britain was offensive to France, and that he was
called in derision the King of England's Viceroy.
In the latter months of 1814, Sir Niel Campbell began to become sensible
that Napoleon desired to exclude him from his presence as much as he
possibly could, without positive rudeness. He rather suddenly intrenched
himself within all the forms of an imperial court; and without affording the
British envoy any absolute cause of complaint, or even any title to require
explanation, he contrived, in a great measure, to debar him from
opportunities of conversation. His only opportunity of obtaining access to
Napoleon, was on his return from short absences to Leghorn and Florence,
when his attendance on the levee was matter of etiquette.
On such occasions, the tenor of Napoleon's prophecies was minatory of the
peace of Europe. He spoke perpetually of the humiliation inflicted upon
France, by taking from her Belgium and his favourite object Antwerp. On
the 30th of October, while enlarging on these topics, he described the
irritable feelings of the nation, saying, every man in France considered the
Rhine to be their natural boundary, and nothing could alter this opinion.
There was no want, he said, of a population in France, martial beyond any
other nation, by natural disposition, by the consequences of the Revolution,
and by the idea of glory. Louis XIV., according to his account,
notwithstanding all the misfortunes he had brought upon the nation, was
still beloved on account of the eclat of his victories, and the magnificence
of his court. The battle of Rosbach had brought about the Revolution. Louis

XVIII. totally mistook the character of the French in supposing, that either
by argument or by reasoning, or indulging them with a free constitution, he
could induce them to sink into a state of peaceful industry. He insisted that
the Duke of Wellington's presence at Paris was an insult on the French
nation; that very strong discord prevailed in the country, and that the king
had but few friends, either in the army or among the people. Perhaps the
King might try to get rid of a part of the army by sending them to St.
Domingo, but that, he observed, would be soon seen through; he himself
had made a melancholy trial, with the loss of 30,000 men, which had
proved the inutility of such expeditions.
He then checked himself, and endeavoured to show that he had no personal
feeling or expectation from the revolutions he foretold. "I am a deceased
man," he said; "I was born a soldier; I have mounted a throne; I have
descended from it; I am prepared for any fate. They may transport me to a
distant shore, or they may put me to death here; I will spread my bosom
open to the poniard. When merely General Buonaparte, I had property of
my own acquiring—I am now deprived of all."
On another occasion he described the ferment in France, which he said he
had learned from the correspondence of his guards with their native
country, and so far forgot the character of a defunct person, as to say
plainly, that the present disaffection would break out with all the fury of the
former revolution, and require his own resurrection. "For then," he added,
"the sovereigns of Europe will soon find it necessary, for their own repose,
to call on me to tranquillize matters."
This species of conversation was perhaps the best which could have been
adopted, to conceal his secret purpose from the British commissioner. Sir
Niel Campbell, though not without entertaining suspicions, judged it, upon
the whole unlikely that he meditated any thing eccentric, unless a tempting
opening should present itself on the part of France or Italy.
Napoleon held the same species of language to others as well as the British
resident. He was affable, and even cordial (in appearance,) to the numerous
strangers whom curiosity led to visit him; spoke of his retirement as
Dioclesian might have done in the gardens of Salonica; seemed to consider
his political career as ended, and to be now chiefly anxious to explain such

passages of his life as met the harsh construction of the world. In giving
free and easy answers to those who conversed with him, and especially to
Englishmen of rank, Buonaparte found a ready means of communicating to
the public such explanations concerning his past life, as were best
calculated to serve his wishes. In these he palliated, instead of denying, the
scheme of poisoning his prisoners in Syria, the massacre at Jaffa, the
murder of the Duke d'Enghien, and other enormities. An emperor, a
conqueror, retired from war, and sequestered from power, must be
favourably listened to by those who have the romantic pleasure of hearing
him plead his own cause. Milder editions of his measures began to be
circulated in Europe, and, in the curiosity to see and admire the captive
sovereign, men forgot the ravages which he had committed while at liberty.
As the winter approached, a change was discernible in Napoleon's manners
and habits. The alterations which he had planned in the island no longer
gave him the same interest; he renounced, from time to time, the severe
exercise in which he had at first indulged, used a carriage rather than his
horse, and sunk occasionally into fits of deep contemplation, mingled with
gloomy anxiety.
He became also subjected to uneasiness, to which he
PECUNIARY had hitherto been a stranger, being that arising from
DIFFICULTIES.
pecuniary inconveniences. He had plunged into
expenses with imprudent eagerness, and without weighing the amount of
his resources against the cost of the proposed alterations. The ready money
which he brought from France seems to have been soon exhausted, and to
raise supplies, he commanded the inhabitants of his island to pay up, in the
month of June, the contributions of the last year. This produced petitions,
personal solicitations, and discontent. It was represented to him, that so
poor were the inhabitants of the island, in consequence of want of sale for
their wine for months past, that they would be driven to the most extreme
straits if the requisition should be persisted in. In some of the villages, the
tax-gatherers of the Emperor were resisted and insulted. Napoleon, on his
side, sent part of his troops to quarter upon the insurgent peasantry, and to
be supported by them at free cost, till the contributions should be paid up.
Thus, we recognise, in the government of this miniature state, the same
wisdom, and the same errors, by which Buonaparte won and lost the empire

of the world. The plans of improvements and internal ameliorations which
he formed, were probably very good in themselves, but he proceeded to the
execution of that which he had resolved with too much and too reckless
precipitation; too much of a determination to work his own pleasure, and
too little concern for the feelings of others.
The compositions proving a weak resource, as they were scarce to be
extracted from the miserable islanders, Napoleon had recourse to others,
which must have been peculiarly galling to a man of his haughty spirit. But
as his revenue, so far as tangible, did not exceed 300,000 francs, and his
expenditure amounted to at least a million, he was compelled to lower the
allowances of most of his retinue; to reduce the wages of the miners to one-
fourth; to raise money by the sale of the provisions laid up for the garrisons;
nay, even by selling a train of brass artillery to the Duke of Tuscany. He
disposed also of some property—a large house which had been used as a
barrack, and he went the length of meditating the sale of the Town-house at
Porto Ferrajo.
We have said, that Napoleon's impatience to execute whatever plans
occurred to his fertile imagination, was the original cause of these
pecuniary distresses. But they are not less to be imputed to the unfair and
unworthy conduct of the French ministry. The French administration were,
of all others, most intimately bound in conscience, honour, and policy, to
see the treaty of Fontainbleau, as forming the footstool by which Louis
XVIII. mounted his restored throne, distinctly observed towards Napoleon.
The sixth article of that treaty provides an annuity, or revenue of two
millions five hundred thousand francs, to be registered on the Great Book of
France, and paid without abatement or deduction to Napoleon Buonaparte.
This annual provision was stipulated by the maréchals, Macdonald and Ney,
as the price of Napoleon's resignation, and the French ministers could not
refuse a declaration of payment without gross injustice to Buonaparte, and
at the same time a severe insult to the allied powers. Nevertheless, so far
from this pension being paid with regularity, we have seen no evidence that
Napoleon ever received a single remittance to account of it. The British
resident observing how much the Ex-Emperor was harassed by pecuniary
straits, gave it, not once but repeatedly, as his opinion, "that if these
difficulties pressed upon him much longer, so as to prevent him from
continuing the external show of a court, he was perfectly capable of

crossing over to Piombino with his troops, or committing any other
extravagance." This was Sir Niel Campbell's opinion on 31st October, 1814,
and Lord Castlereagh made strong remonstrances on the subject, although
Great Britain was the only power among the allies, who, being no principal
party to the treaty of Fontainbleau, might safely have left it to those states
who were. The French were not ashamed to defend their conduct on the
technical objection, that the pension was not due until the year was elapsed;
a defence which we must consider as evasive, since such a pension is of an
alimentary nature, the termly payments of which ought to be made in
advance. The subject was mentioned again and again by Sir Niel Campbell,
but it does not appear that the French administration desisted from a course,
which, whether arising from a spirit of mean revenge, or from avarice, or
from being themselves embarrassed, was at once dishonourable and
impolitic.
Other apprehensions agitated Buonaparte's mind. He feared the Algerine
pirates, and requested the interference of England in his behalf. He
believed, or affected to believe, that Brulart, the governor of Corsica, who
had been a captain of Chouans, the friend of Georges, Pichegru, &c., was
sent thither by Louis XVIII.th's administration for the purpose of having
him assassinated, and that fitting agents were despatched from Corsica to
Elba for that purpose.[71] Above all, he pretended to be informed of a design
to dispense with the treaty of Fontainbleau, and to remove him from his
place of refuge, to be imprisoned at St. Helena, or St. Lucie. It is not
impossible that these fears were not altogether feigned; for though there is
not an iota of evidence tending to show that there was reason for believing
the allies entertained such an unworthy thought, yet the report was spread
very generally through France, Italy, and the Mediterranean, and was
encouraged, doubtless, by those who desired once more to place
Buonaparte in action.[72] He certainly expressed great anxiety on the
subject, sometimes declaring he would defend his batteries to the last;
sometimes affecting to believe that he was to be sent to reside in England, a
prospect which he pretended not to dislike personally, while he held out
sufficient reasons to prevent the course from being adopted. "He
concluded," he said, "he should have personal liberty, and the means of
removing prejudices entertained against his character, which had not yet
been fully cleared up;" but ended with the insinuation, that, by residing in

England he would have easier communication with France, where there
were four of his party to every single Bourbonist. And when he had
exhausted these topics, he returned to the complaints of the hardship and
cruelty of depriving him of the society of his wife and child.
While Buonaparte, chafed by poverty, and these other subjects of
complaint, tormented too by the restlessness of a mind impatient of
restraint, gave vent to expressions which excited suspicion, and ought to
have recommended precaution, his court began to assume a very singular
appearance, quite the opposite of that usually exhibited in the courts of
petty sovereigns upon the continent. In the latter there is an air of antiquated
gravity, which pervades the whole establishment, and endeavours to supply
the want of splendour, and of real power. The heavy apparatus designed for
the government of an independent state, is applied to the management of a
fortune not equal to that of many private gentlemen; the whole course of
business goes slowly and cumbrously on, and so that appearances are
maintained in the old style of formal grandeur, the sovereign and his
counsellors dream neither of expeditions, conquest, nor any other political
object.
The Court of Porto Ferrajo was the reverse of all this. Indeed, the whole
place was, in one sense, deserving of the name of Cosmopoli, which
Napoleon wished to impose on it. It was like the court of a great barrack,
filled with military, gendarmes, police officers of all sorts, refugees of every
nation, expectants and dependents upon the court, domestics and
adventurers, all connected with Buonaparte, and holding or expecting some
benefit at his hand. Rumours of every kind were buzzed about through this
miscellaneous crowd, as thick as motes in the sunshine. Suspicious
characters appeared and disappeared again, without affording any trace of
their journey or object. The port was filled with ships from all parts of Italy.
This indeed was necessary to supply the island with provisions, when
crowded with such an unusual degree of population; and, besides, vessels of
all nations visited Porto Ferrajo, from the various motives of curiosity or
speculation, or being compelled by contrary winds. The four armed vessels
of Napoleon, and seventeen belonging to the service of the miners, were
constantly engaged in voyages to every part of Italy, and brought over or
returned to the continent, Italians, Sicilians, Frenchmen, and Greeks, who
seemed all active, yet gave no reason for their coming or departure.

Dominico Ettori, a monk who had escaped from his convent, and one
Theologos, a Greek, were considered as agents of some consequence
among this group.
The situation of Sir Niel Campbell was now very embarrassing. Napoleon,
affecting to be more tenacious than ever of his dignity, not only excluded
the British envoy from his own presence, but even threw obstacles in the
way of his visiting his mother and sister. It was, therefore, only from
interviews with Napoleon himself that he could hope to get any
information, and to obtain these Sir Niel was, as already noticed, obliged to
absent himself from the island of Elba occasionally, which gave him an
opportunity of desiring an audience, as he went away and returned. At such
times as he remained on the island he was discountenanced, and all
attention withdrawn from him; but in a way so artful, as to render it
impossible for him to make a formal complaint, especially as he had no
avowed official character, and was something in the situation of a guest,
whose uninvited intrusion has placed him at his landlord's mercy.
Symptoms of some approaching catastrophe could not, however, be
concealed from the British resident. Napoleon had interviews with his
mother, after which she appeared deeply distressed. She was heard also to
talk of three deputations which he had received from France. It was besides
accounted a circumstance of strong suspicion, that discharges and furloughs
were granted to two or three hundred of Napoleon's Old Guard, by the
medium of whom, as was too late discovered, the allegiance of the military
in France was corrupted and seduced, and their minds prepared for what
was to ensue. We cannot suppose that such a number of persons were
positively intrusted with the secret; but every one of them was prepared to
sound forth the praises of the Emperor in his exile, and all entertained and
disseminated the persuasion, that he would soon appear to reclaim his
rights.
At length Mariotti, the French consul at Leghorn, and Spannoki, the Tuscan
governor of that town, informed Sir Niel Campbell that it was certainly
determined at Elba, that Buonaparte, with his guards, should embark for the
continent. Sir Niel was at Leghorn when he received this intelligence, and
had left the Partridge sloop of war to cruize round Elba. It was naturally

concluded that Italy was the object of Napoleon, to join with his brother-in-
law Murat, who was at that time, fatally for himself, raising his banner.
On the 25th of February [1815,] the Partridge having
ESCAPES FROM come to Leghorn, and fetched off Sir Niel Campbell,
ELBA.
the appearance, as the vessel approached Porto
Ferrajo on her return, of the national guard on the batteries, instead of the
crested grenadiers of the Imperial guard, at once apprized the British
resident of what had happened. When he landed, he found the mother and
sister of Buonaparte in a well-assumed agony of anxiety about the fate of
their Emperor, of whom they affected to know nothing, except that he had
steered towards the coast of Barbary. They appeared extremely desirous to
detain Sir Niel Campbell on shore. Resisting their entreaties, and repelling
the more pressing arguments of the governor, who seemed somewhat
disposed to use force to prevent him from re-embarking, the British envoy
regained his vessel, and set sail in pursuit of the adventurer. But it was too
late; the Partridge only obtained a distant sight of the flotilla, after
Buonaparte and his forces had landed.
The changes which had taken place in France, and had encouraged the
present most daring action, form the subject of the next chapter.

CHAPTER LXXXIII.
Retrospect—Restoration of the Bourbons displeasing to the
Soldiery, but satisfactory to the People—Terms favourable to
France granted by the Allies—Discontent about the manner of
conceding the Charter—Other grounds of dissatisfaction—
Apprehensions lest the Church and Crown Lands should be
resumed—Resuscitation of the Jacobin faction—Increased
Dissatisfaction in the Army—The Claims of the Emigrants
mooted in the Chamber of Delegates—Maréchal Macdonald's
Proposal—Financial Difficulties—Restriction on the Press—
Reflections on this subject.
We must now look back to the re-establishment of the Bourbons upon the
throne in 1814, an event which took place under circumstances so
uncommon as to excite extravagant expectations of national felicity;
expectations, which, like a premature and profuse display of blossom,
diminished the chance of the fruit ripening, and exasperated the
disappointment of over sanguine hopes. For a certain time all had been gay
and rose-coloured. The French possess more than other nations the art of
enjoying the present, without looking back with regret on the past, or
forward to the future with unfavourable anticipations. Louis XVIII.,
respectable for his literary acquirements, and the practice of domestic
virtues, amiable also from a mixture of bonhommie, and a talent for saying
witty things, was received in the capital of his kingdom with acclamations,
in which the soldiers alone did not cordially join. They indeed appeared
with gloomy, sullen, and discontented looks. The late imperial, now royal
guard, seemed, from the dark ferocity of their aspect, to consider
themselves rather as the captives who were led in triumph, than the soldiers
who partook of it.
But the higher and middling classes in general, excepting those who were
direct losers by the dethronement of Napoleon, hailed with sincere
satisfaction the prospect of peace, tranquillity, and freedom from vexatious
exactions. If they had not, as they could hardly be supposed to have, any

personal zeal for the representatives of a family so long strangers to France,
it was fondly hoped the absence of this might be supplied by the unwonted
prospect of ease and security which their accession promised. The allied
monarchs, on their part, did every thing to favour the Bourbon family, and
relaxed most of the harsh and unpalatable conditions which they had
annexed to their proposed treaty with Buonaparte; as if to allow the
legitimate heir the credit with his people of having at once saved their
honour, and obtained for them the most advantageous terms.
The French readily caught at these indulgences, and, with the aptitude they
possess of accommodating their feelings to the moment, for a time seemed
to intimate that they were sensible of the full advantage of the change, and
were desirous to make as much of it as they possibly could. There is a story
of a French soldier in former times, who, having insulted his general in a fit
of intoxication, was brought before him next morning, and interrogated,
whether he was the person who had committed the offence. The accused
replied he was not, for that the impudent rascal had gone away before four
in the morning—at which hour the culprit had awaked in a state of sobriety.
The French people, like the arch rogue in question, drew distinctions
between their present and former selves, and seemed very willing to deny
their identity. They were no longer, they said, either the Republican French,
who had committed so many atrocities in their own country, or the Imperial
French, who had made such devastation in other nations; and God forbid
that the sins of either should be visited upon the present regenerate race of
royalist Frenchmen, loyal to their native princes, and faithful to their allies,
who desired only to enjoy peace abroad and tranquillity at home.
These professions, which were probably serious for the time, backed by the
natural anxiety of the monarch to make, through his interest with the allied
powers, the best terms he could for his country, were received as current
without strict examination. It seemed that Buonaparte on his retirement to
Elba, had carried away with him all the offences of the French people, like
the scapegoat, which the Levitical law directed to be driven into the
wilderness, loaded with the sins of the children of Israel. There was, in all
the proceedings of the allied powers, not only moderation, but a studied
delicacy, observed towards the feelings of the French, which almost
savoured of romantic generosity. They seemed as desirous to disguise their
conquest, as the Parisians were to conceal their defeat. The treasures of art,

those spoils of foreign countries, which justice loudly demanded should be
restored to their true owners, were confirmed to the French nation, in order
to gratify the vanity of the metropolis. By a boon yet more fatal, announced
to the public in one of those moments of romantic, and more than
questionable generosity, which we have alluded to, the whole French
prisoners of war in the mass, and without inquiry concerning their
principles, or the part they were likely to take in future internal divisions,
were at once restored to the bosom of their country. This was in fact treating
the French nation as a heedless nurse does a spoiled child, when she puts
into its hands the knife which it cries for. The fatal consequences of this
improvident indulgence appeared early in the subsequent year.
The Senate of Napoleon, when they called the
THE RESTORATION. Bourbons to the throne, had not done so without
making stipulations on the part of the nation, and also
upon their own. For the first purpose they framed a decree, under which
they "called to the throne Louis Stanislaus Xavier, brother of the last King,"
but upon condition of his accepting a constitution of their framing. This
assumed right of dictating a constitution, and naming a king for the nation,
was accompanied by another provision, declaring the Senate hereditary, and
confirming to themselves, and their heirs for ever, the rank, honours, and
emoluments, which in Napoleon's time they only enjoyed for life.
The King refused to acknowledge the right of the Senate, either to dictate
the terms on which he should ascend a throne, his own by hereditary
descent, and to which he had never forfeited his claim; or to engross, as
their own exclusive property, the endowments provided to their order by
Buonaparte. He, therefore, assumed the crown as the lineal and true
representative of him by whom it was last worn; and issued his own
constitutional charter as a concession which the spirit of the times
demanded, and which he had himself no desire to withhold.
The objections to this mode of proceeding were, practically speaking, of no
consequence. It signified nothing to the people of France, whether the
constitution was proposed to the King by the national representatives, or by
the King to them, so that it contained, in an irrevocable form, a full
ratification of the national liberties. But for the King to have acknowledged
himself the creature of the Senate's election would have been at once to

recognise every ephemeral tyranny which had started up and fretted its part
on the revolutionary stage; and to have sanctioned all subsequent attempts
at innovation, since they who make kings and authorities must have the
inherent right to dethrone and annul them. It should not be forgotten how
the British nation acted on the great occasions of the Restoration and
Revolution; recognising, at either crisis, the right of blood to succeed to the
crown, whether vacant by the murder of Charles I., or the abdication of
James II. In principle, too, it may be observed, that in all modern European
nations, the king is nominally the source both of law and justice; and that
statutes are promulgated, and sentences executed in his name, without
inferring that he has the despotic right either to make the one, or to alter the
other. Although, therefore, the constitution of France emanated in the usual
form of a royal charter, the King was no more empowered to recall or
innovate its provisions, than King John to abrogate those of the English
Magna Charta. Monsieur, the King's brother, had promised in his name,
upon his solemn entrance to Paris, that Louis would recognise the basis of
the constitution prepared by the Senate. This pledge was fully redeemed by
the charter, and wise men would have been more anxious to secure the
benefits which it bestowed, than scrupulously to cavil on the mode in which
they had been conferred.
In fact, Louis had adopted not only the form most consonant to ancient
usage, but that which he thought most likely to satisfy both the royalists and
the revolutionary party. He ascended the throne as his natural right; and,
having done so, he willingly granted to the people, in an irrevocable form,
the substantial principles of a free constitution. But both parties were rather
displeased at what they considered as lost, than gratified at what they
gained by this arrangement. The royalists regarded the constitution, with its
concessions, as a voluntary abandonment of the royal prerogative; while the
revolutionary party exclaimed, that the receiving the charter from the King
as an act of his will was in itself a badge of servitude; and that the same
royal prerogative which had granted these privileges, might, if recognised,
be supposed to reserve the power of diminishing or resuming them at
pleasure. And thus it is, that folly, party-spirit, pride, and passion, can
misrepresent the best measures, and so far poison the public mind, that the
very granting the object of their desires shall be made the subject of new
complaints.

The formation of the ministry gave rise to more
MINISTRY OF LOUIS serious grounds of apprehension and censure. The
XVIII.
various offices of administration were, upon the
restoration, left in possession of persons selected from those who had been
named by the Provisional Government. All the members of the Provisional
State Council were called to be royal ministers of the State. Many of these,
though possessed of reputed talents, were men hackneyed in the changes of
the Revolution; and were not, and could not be, intrusted with the King's
confidence beyond the bounds of the province which each administered.
Talleyrand, minister for foreign affairs, whose talents and experience might
have given him claim to the situation of prime minister, was unpopular
from his political versatility; and it was judged, after a time, most expedient
to send him to the Congress at Vienna, that his diplomatic skill might be
employed in arranging the exterior relations of France with the other
powers of Europe. Yet the absence of this consummate statesman was of
great prejudice to the King's affairs. His having preserved life, distinction,
and frequently power, during so many revolutionary changes, proved,
according to the phrase of the old Earl of Pembroke, that "he was born of
the willow, not of the oak." But it was the opinion of the wisest men in
France, that it was not fair, considering the times in which he lived, to speak
of his attachment to, or defection from, individuals; but to consider the
general conduct and maxims which he recommended relative to the
interests of France. It has been truly said, that, after the first errors and
ebullitions of republican zeal, if he were measured by this standard, he must
be judged favourably. The councils which he gave to Napoleon were all
calculated, it was said, for the good of the nation, and so were the measures
which he recommended to the King. Much of this is really true; yet, when
we think of the political consistency of the Prince of Beneventum, we
cannot help recollecting the personal virtue of a female follower of the
camp, which consisted in strict fidelity to the grenadier company.
Dupont was promoted to the situation of minister at war, owing, perhaps, to
the persecution he had undergone from Buonaparte, in consequence of his
surrender at Baylen to the Spaniards. Soult was afterwards called to this
important office; how recommended, it would be vain to inquire. When
Napoleon heard of his appointment from the English resident, he observed
that it would be a wise and good one, if no patriotic party should show

itself in France; but, if such should arise, he intimated plainly that there
would be no room for the Bourbons to rest faith upon Soult's adherence to
their cause; and so it proved.
To add still farther to the inconveniences of this state of administration,
Louis XVIII. had a favourite, although he had no prime minister. Count
Blacas d'Aulps, minister of the household, an ancient and confidential
attendant on the royal person during his exile, was understood to be the
channel through which the King's wishes were communicated to the other
ministers; and his protection was supposed to afford the surest access to the
favours of the crown.
Without doing his master the service of a premier, or holding either the
power or the responsibility of that high situation, De Blacas had the full
share of odium usually attached to it. The royalists, who pressed on him for
grants which were in the departments of other ministers, resented his
declining to interfere in their favour, as if, having satisfied his own
ambition, he had become indifferent to the interest of those with whom he
had been a joint sufferer during the emigration. The opposite party, on the
other hand, represented Count Blacas as an absolute minister, an emigrant
himself, and the patron of emigrants; a royalist of the highest class, and an
enemy, of course, to all the constitutional stipulations in favour of liberty.
Thus far it is certain, that the unpopularity of M. de Blacas, with all ranks
and parties in the state, had the worst possible influence on the King's
affairs; and as his credit was ascribed to a blind as well as an obstinate
attachment on the part of Louis, the monarch was of course involved in the
unpopularity of the minister of the household.
The terms of the peace, as we have already hinted,
TERMS OF THE had been studiously calculated to recommend it to the
TREATY.
feelings of the French people. France was, indeed,
stripped of that extended sway which rendered her dangerous to the
independence of other European nations, and reduced, generally speaking,
to the boundaries which she occupied on the 1st of January 1792. Still the
bargain was not harshly driven. Several small additions were left with her
on the side of Germany and the Netherlands, and on that of Savoy she had
the considerable towns of Chamberri, Annecy, Avignon, with the Venaisson
and Mont Belliard, included in her territories.[73] But these concessions

availed little; and looking upon what they had lost, many of the French
people, after the recollections had subsided of their escape from a dreadful
war, were naturally, however unreasonably, disposed to murmur against the
reduction of their territories, and to insist that Belgium, at least, should have
remained with them. This opinion was encouraged and pressed by the
Buonapartists, who considered the cession of that country with the more
evil eye, because it was understood to have been a point urged by England.
Yet if England played a proud, it was also a generous part. She had nothing
to stipulate, nothing of which to demand restitution, for she had sustained
no territorial loss during the whole period of hostilities. The war, which had
nearly ruined most other nations, had put Britain in possession of all the
colonies of France, and left the latter country neither a ship nor a port in the
East or West Indies; and, to sum the whole, it was not in the power of united
Europe to take from England by force any one of the conquests which she
had thus made. The question therefore, only was, what Britain was
voluntarily to cede to an enemy who could give her no equivalent,
excepting the pledge to adopt better principles, and to act no longer as the
disturber of Europe. The cessions were such in number and amount, as to
show that England was far above the mean and selfish purpose of seeking a
colonial monopoly, or desiring to destroy the possibility of commercial
rivalry. All was restored to France, excepting only Tobago and the
Mauritius.
These sacrifices, made in the spirit of peace and moderation, were not made
in vain. They secured to Britain the gratitude and respect of other states,
and, giving to her councils that character of justice and impartiality which
constitutes the best national strength, they placed her in a situation of more
influence and eminence in the civilized world than the uncontrolled
possession of all the cotton-fields and sugar-islands of the east and west
could ever have raised her to. Still, with respect to France in particular, the
peace was not recommended by the eminence to which it had raised
England. The rivalry, so long termed national, and which had been so
carefully fostered by every state paper or political statement which
Buonaparte had permitted to be published, rankled even in generous and
honourable minds; and so prejudiced are the views of passion, that by
mistaking each other's national feelings, there were many Frenchmen

induced to believe that the superiority attained by Great Britain was to a
certain degree an insult and degradation to France.
Every thing, indeed, which ought to have soothed and gratified the French
people, was at last, by irritated feelings and artful misrepresentation,
converted into a subject of complaint and grievance.
The government of Napoleon had been as completely despotic as it could
be rendered in a civilized country like France, where public opinion forbade
its being carried to barbaric extreme. On the contrary, in the charter, France
was endowed with most of the elementary principles of a free and liberal
constitution. The King had adopted, in all points of a general and national
tendency, the principles proposed in the rejected constitutional act of the
Senate.
The Chamber of Peers and Chamber of Deputies were the titles applied to
the aristocratical and popular branches of the constitution, instead of the
Senate and Legislative body. Their public duties were divided something
like those of the Houses of Peers and Commons in England. The
independence of the judicial order was recognised, and the military were
confirmed in their rank and revenues. The Chamber of Peers was to be
nominated by the King, with power to his Majesty to create its members for
life, or hereditary, at his pleasure. The income of the suppressed Senate was
resumed, and vested in the crown, excepting confiscated property, which
was restored to the lawful owners. The Catholic religion was declared to be
that of the State, but all other Christian sects were to be protected. The
King's authority was recognised as head of the army, and the power of
making peace and war was vested in him exclusively. The liberty of the
press was established, but under certain restraints. The conscription was
abolished—the responsibility of ministers recognised; and it may be said, in
general, that a constitution was traced out, good so far as it went, and
susceptible of receiving the farther improvements which time and
experience might recommend. The charter[74] was presented to the
Legislative Body by the King in person, [June 4,] with a speech, which
announced, that the principles which it recognised were such as had been
adopted in the will of his unfortunate brother, Louis XVI.[75]

Yet, though this charter contained a free surrender of great part of the royal
rights which the old race of Bourbons had enjoyed, as well as of all the
arbitrary power which Napoleon had usurped, we have seen that it was
unacceptable to an active and influential party in the state, who disdained to
accept security for property and freedom under the ancient forms of a
feudal charter, and contended that it ought to have emanated directly from
the will of the Sovereign People. We have no hesitation in saying, that this
was as reasonable as the conduct of a spoiled child, who refuses what is
given to him, because he is not suffered to take it; or the wisdom of an
hungry man, who should quarrel with his dinner, because he does not
admire the shape of the dish in which it is served up.
This is the common-sense view of the subject. If the constitution contained
the necessary guarantees of political freedom and security of life and
property; if it was to be looked to as the permanent settlement and bulwark
of the liberties of France, and considered as a final and decided
arrangement, liable indeed to be improved by the joint consent of the
sovereign, and the legal representatives of the subject, but not to be
destroyed by any or all of these authorities, it was a matter of utter
unimportance, whether the system was constructed in the form of a charter
granted by the King, or that of conditions dictated to him by the subject.
But if there was to be a retrospect to the ephemeral existence of all the
French constitutions hitherto, excepting that under which Buonaparte had
enthralled the people, then perhaps the question might be entertained,
whether the feudal or the revolutionary form was most likely to be
innovated; or, in other words, whether the conditions attached to the plan of
government now adopted, was most likely to be innovated upon by the
King, or by the body who represented the people.
Assuming the fatal doctrine, that the party in whose name the conditions of
the constitution are expressed, is entitled to suspend, alter, or recall them,
sound policy dictated, that the apparent power of granting should be
ascribed to the party least able and willing to recall or innovate upon the
grant which he had made. In this view of the case, it might be reckoned
upon that the King, unsupported, unless by the Royalists, who were few in
number, unpopular from circumstances, and for the present divested,
excepting nominally, of the great instrument of achieving despotic power,
the undisputed command, namely, of the army, would be naturally

unwilling to risk the continuance of his authority by any attempt to innovate
upon those conditions, which he had by his own charter assured to the
people. On the contrary, conditions formed and decreed by the Senate of
Buonaparte, might on the popular party's resuming the ascendency, be
altered or recalled by the chambers with the same levity and fickleness
which the people of France, or at least those acting as their representatives,
had so often displayed. To give permanence to the constitution, therefore, it
was best it should emanate from the party most interested in preserving it,
and least able to infringe it; and that undoubtedly, as France stood at the
time, was the sovereign. In Great Britain, the constitution is accounted more
secure, because the King is the source of law, of honour, and of all
ministerial and executive power; whilst he is responsible to the nation
through his ministers, for the manner in which that power is exercised. An
arrangement of a different kind would expose the branches of the legislature
to a discordant struggle, which ought never to be contemplated as possible.
The zealous liberalists of France were induced, however, to mutiny against
the name under which their free constitution was assigned them, and to call
back Buonaparte, who had abolished the very semblance of freedom, rather
than to accept at the hands of a peaceful monarch, the degree of liberty
which they themselves had acquired. The advantages which they gained
will appear in the sequel.
Thus setting out with varying and contradictory opinions of the nature and
origin of the new constitution, the parties in the state regarded it rather as a
fortress to be attacked and defended, than as a temple in which all men were
called to worship.
The French of this period might be divided into three
PARTIES IN FRANCE. distinct and active parties—Royalists; Liberals of
every shade, down to Republicans; and Buonapartists.
And it becomes our duty to say a few words concerning each of these.
The Royalists, while they added little real strength to the King by their
numbers, attracted much jealous observation from their high birth and
equally high pretensions; embroiled his affairs by their imprudent zeal;
embittered his peace by their just and natural complaints; and drew

suspicion on his government at every effort which he made to serve and
relieve them. They consisted chiefly of the emigrant nobles and clergy.
The former class were greatly reduced in number by war and exile;
insomuch, that to the House of Peers, consisting of one hundred and
seventy, and upwards, the ancient nobles of France supplied only thirty. The
rest were the fortunate maréchals and generals, whom the wars of the
Revolution had raised to rank and wealth; and the statesmen, many of
whom had attained the same station by less honourable means of elevation.
The old noblesse, after their youth had been exhausted, their fortunes
destroyed, and their spirits broken, while following through foreign
countries the adverse fortunes of the exiled Bourbons, beheld the
restoration, indeed, of the monarchy, but were themselves recalled to France
only to see their estates occupied, and their hereditary offices around the
person of the monarch filled, by the fortunate children of the Revolution.
Like the disappointed English cavaliers, they might well complain that
though none had wished more earnestly for the return of the legitimate
prince, yet none had shared so little in the benefits attending it. By a natural,
and yet a perverse mode of reasoning, the very injuries which the nobility
had sustained, rendered them the objects of suspicion to the other ranks and
parties of the state. They had been the companions of the King's exile, were
connected with him by the ties of friendship, and had near access to his
person by the right of blood. Could it be in nature, it was asked, that Louis
could see their sufferings without attempting to relieve them; and how
could he do so in the present state of France, unless at the expense of those
who occupied or aspired to civil and military preferment, or of those who
had acquired during the Revolution the national domains which those
nobles once possessed? Yet the alarm was founded rather on suspicion than
on facts. Of the preferment of emigrants in the army, we shall speak
hereafter; but in the civil departments of the state, few of the old noblesse
obtained office. To take a single example, in the course of eleven months
there were thirty-seven prefects nominated to the departments, and the list
did not comprehend a single one of those emigrants who returned to France
with Louis; and but very few of those whose exile had terminated more
early. The nobles felt this exclusion from royal favour, and expressed their
complaints, which some, yet more imprudently, mingled with threatening
hints, that their day of triumph might yet arrive. This language, as well as

the air of exclusive dignity and distance which they affected, as if, the
distinction of their birth being all that they had left to them, they were
determined to enforce the most punctilious deference to that, was carefully
remarked and recorded against the King.
The noblesse were supposed to receive particular encouragement from the
princes of the blood, while, upon the whole, they were rather discouraged
than brought forward or distinguished by Louis, who, as many of them
spared not to say, was disposed to act upon the ungenerous maxim of
courting his enemies, and neglecting those who could not upon principle
become any thing save his friends. They did not, perhaps, make sufficient
allowance for the great difficulties which the King incurred in governing
France at so critical a period.
The state of the Clergy is next to be considered. They
THE CLERGY. were, generally speaking, sincerely attached to the
King; and had they been in possession of their
revenues, and of their natural influence upon the public mind, their
attachment would have been of the utmost consequence. But without this
influence, and without the wealth, or at least the independence, on which it
partly rests, they were as useless, politically speaking, as a key which does
not fit the lock to which it is applied. This state of things, unfortunate in
many respects, flowed from a maxim adopted during the Revolution, and
followed by Buonaparte, who had his reasons for fearing the influence of
the clergy. "We will not put down the ecclesiastical establishment by force;
we will starve it to death." Accordingly, all grants and bequests to the
Church had been limited and qualified by so many conditions and
restrictions, as to intercept that mode of acquisition so fruitful in a Catholic
country; while, on the other hand, the salary allowed by the State to each
officiating curate was only five hundred livres (£26, 16s. 8d.) yearly. No
doubt each community were permitted to subscribe what they pleased in
addition to this miserable pittance; but in France, when the number of those
who care for no religion at all, and of those whose zeal will not lead them
the length of paying for it, is deduced, the remainder will afford but a small
list of subscribers. The consequence was, that at the period of the
restoration, many parishes were, and had been for years, without any public
worship. Ignorance had increased in an incalculable degree. "We are
informed," was the communication from Buonaparte to one of his prefects,

"that dangerous books are distributed in your department."—"Were the
roads sown with them," was the answer returned by the prefect, "your
Majesty need not fear their influence; we have not a man who would or
could read them."—When we add to this the relaxed state of public morals,
the pains taken in the beginning of the Revolution to eradicate the
sentiments of religion, and render its professors ridiculous, and the
prevalence of the military character, so conspicuous through France, and so
unfavourable to devotion; and when it is further remembered that all the
wealth of the Church had fallen into the hands of the laity, which were fast
clenched to retain it, and trembling at the same time lest it should be
wrested from them—the reader may, from all these causes, form some
notion of the low ebb of religion and of the Church in France.
The disposition of the King and Royal Family to restore the formal
observances of the Romish Church, as well as to provide the suitable means
of educating in future those designed for the ministry, and other religious
institutions, excited among the Parisians a feeling of hatred and contempt. It
must be owned, also, that though the abstract motive was excellent, there
was little wisdom in attempting to bring back the nation to all those
mummeries of Popish ceremonial, which, long before the Revolution, only
subsisted through inveterate custom, having lost all influence on the public
mind.
This general feeling was increased by particular events. Alarming tumults
took place, on the subject of enforcing a rule unworthy of Christianity and
civilisation, by which theatrical performers are declared in a constant state
of excommunication. The rites of sepulture being refused to Mademoiselle
Raucour, an actress, but a person of decent character and morals,
occasioned a species of insurrection, which compelled from the government
an order for interring her with the usual forms.[76]
The enforcing of the more regular observation of the Sabbath, an order
warranted alike by religion and good morals, gave also great offence to the
inhabitants of the capital. The solemn obsequies performed for the death of
Louis XVI. and his unfortunate queen, when their remains were transferred
from their hasty grave to the royal mausoleum at Saint Denis, a fraternal
action, and connected with the forms of the Catholic Church—was also
construed to the King's prejudice, as if, by the honour paid to these poor

relics, he had intended to mark his hatred of the Revolution, and his
recollection of the injuries he had sustained from it.[77] Some honours and
attention bestowed on the few surviving chiefs of La Vendée, were equally
the subject of misrepresentation. In short, whatever Louis XVIII. did, which
had the least appearance of gratifying those who had lost all for his sake,
was accounted an act of treason against freedom and the principles of the
Revolution.
None of the circumstances we have noticed had, however, so much effect
upon the public feeling as the fear which prevailed, that Louis, in his
veneration for religion and its members, might be led to form some scheme
of resuming the Church lands, which, having been confiscated by the
decrees of the National Assembly, were now occupied by a host of
proprietors, who watched, with vigilant jealousy, incipient measures, which
they feared might end in resumption of their property. Imprudent priests
added to this distrust and jealousy, by denunciations against those who held
Church lands, and by refusing to grant them absolution unless they made
restitution or compensation for them. This distrust spread far wider than
among the actual proprietors of national domains. For if these were
threatened with resumption of the property they had acquired under
authority of the existing government for the time, it was most probable that
the divine right of the clergy to a tithe of the produce of the earth, might
next have been brought forward—a claim involving the interest of every
landholder and farmer in France to a degree almost incalculable.
It is plain, from what we have stated, that the Royalist party, whether lay or
clerical, were so little in a condition to be effectually serviceable to the
King in the event of a struggle, that while their adherence and their
sufferings claimed his attachment and gratitude, every mark which he
afforded them of those feelings was calculated to render his government
suspected and unpopular.
Whilst the Royalists rather sapped and encumbered
THE JACOBINS. than supported the throne to which they adhered, their
errors were carefully pointed out, circulated, and
exaggerated, by the Jacobin, or as they called themselves, the Patriotic
party. This faction, small in numbers, but formidable from their audacity,
their union, and the dreadful recollection of their former power and

principles, consisted of ex-generals, whose laurels had faded with the
Republic; ex-ministers and functionaries, whose appointments and
influence had not survived the downfall of the Directory; men of letters,
who hoped again to rule the state by means of proclamations and journals;
and philosophers, to whose vanity or enthusiasm abstract principles of
unattainable liberty, and undesirable equality, were dearer than all the
oceans of blood, and extent of guilt and misery, which they had already
cost, and were likely again to occasion. It cannot be denied, that, in the
discussion of the original rights of humanity, and constitutions of society,
several of this party showed distinguished talent, and that their labours were
calculated to keep up a general love of liberty, and to promote inquiry into
the principles upon which it is founded. Unfortunately, however, their
theoretical labours in framing constitutions diverted their attention from the
essential points of government, to its mere external form, and led them, for
example, to prefer a republic, where every species of violence was practised
by the little dictator of the day, to a limited monarchy, under which life,
person, and property, were protected. The chiefs of this party were men of
that presumptuous and undoubting class, who, after having failed repeatedly
in political experiments, were as ready as ever again to undertake them,
with the same unhesitating and self-deceptive confidence of success. They
were never satisfied even with what they themselves had done; for as there
is no end of aiming at an ideal perfection in any human establishment, they
proceeded with alterations on their own work, as if what Butler says of
religion had been true in politics, and that a form of government

"was intended
For nothing else but to be mended."

Danger did not appal the sages of this school. Many of them had been
familiar with, and hardened to the perils of the most desperate revolutionary
intrigues, by their familiar acquaintance with the springs which set each in
motion, and were ready to recommence their desperate labours with as little
forethought as belongs to the labourers in a powder-mill, which has
exploded ten times during their remembrance, and destroyed the greater
number of their comrades. In the character of these self-entitled
philosophers and busy agitators, vanity as well as egotism were leading
principles. The one quality persuaded them, that they might be able, by dint

of management, to avert danger from themselves; and the other rendered
them indifferent respecting the safety of others.
During the government of Buonaparte, this Jacobinical party was repressed
by a strong hand. He knew, by experience of every sort, their restless,
intriguing, and dangerous disposition. They also knew and feared his
strength, and his unscrupulous use of it. The return of the Bourbons called
them into life, like the sun which thaws the frozen adder; but it was only to
show how they hated the beams which revived them. The Bourbon dynasty,
with all the remembrances it combined, seemed to this faction the very
opposite to their favourite Revolution; and they studied with malignant
assiduity the degree of liberty afforded by the national charter, not in order
to defend or to enjoy it, but to discover how it might be made the vantage-
ground for overthrowing both the throne and the constitution.
Carnot and Fouché, formidable names, and revolutionists from their youth
upward, were the ostensible leaders of this active party, and most of the
surviving revolutionists rallied under their standards. These agitators had
preserved some influence over the lees of the people, and were sure to find
the means of augmenting it in the moment of popular commotion. The
rabble of a great town is democratical and revolutionary by nature; for their
vanity is captivated with such phrases as the sovereignty of the people, their
sense of poverty and licentious fury tempted by occasion for uproar, and
they regard the restraints of laws and good order as their constant and
natural enemies. It is upon this envenomed and corrupted mass of evil
passions that the experimental philosophers of the Revolution have always
exercised their chemical skill. Of late, however, the intercourse between the
philosophers of the Revolution and this class of apt and docile scholars had
been considerably interrupted. Buonaparte, as we have hinted, restrained
with a strong hand the teachers of the Revolutionary school; while, by the
eclat of his victories, his largesses, and his expensive undertakings, in
which many workmen were employed, he debauched from them great part
of their popular disciples, who may be said, with the inconsequence and
mutability belonging to their habits, principles, and temper, to have turned
imperialists, without losing their natural aptitude to become Jacobins again
on the next tempting opportunity.

The party of Imperialists or Buonapartists, if we lay
BUONAPARTISTS— the army out of view, was small and unimportant. The
THE ARMY.
public functionaries, whom the King had displaced
from the situations of emolument which they held under the Emperor—
courtiers, prefects, commissioners, clerks, and commissaries—whose
present means and future hopes were cut off, were of course disobliged and
discontented men, who looked with a languishing eye towards the island of
Elba. The immediate family connexions, favourites, and ministers of the
late Emperor, confident in the wealth which most of them had acquired, and
resenting the insignificance to which they were reduced by the restoration
of the Bourbons, lent to this party the activity which money, and the habit
of political intrigue, can at all times communicate. But the real and
tremendous strength of the Buonapartists lay in the attachment of the
existing army to its abdicated general. This was the more formidable, as the
circumstances of the times, and the prevailing military character of the
French nation, had raised the soldiers from their proper and natural
character of servants of the state, into a distinct deliberative body, having
interests of their own, which were in their nature incompatible with those of
the commonwealth; since the very profession of arms implies an aptitude to
a state of war, which, to all other ranks in the state, the army itself excepted,
may indeed be a necessary and unavoidable evil, but never can be a real
advantage.
The King could not be accused of neglecting to cultivate the affections,
soothe the prejudices, and gratify the wishes of the army. The fact is, that
the unprecedented difficulties of his situation forced him to study how to
manage by flattery, and by the most imprudent indulgences and favours, the
only part of his subjects, who, according to the rules of all well-governed
states, ought to be subjected to absolute authority. Every effort was made to
gratify the feelings of the troops, and the utmost exertions were made to
remount, re-establish, and re-clothe them. Their ranks were augmented by
upwards of 150,000 prisoners of war, whose minds were in general actuated
by the desire of avenging the dishonour and hardship of their defeat and
captivity, and whose presence greatly increased the discontent as well as the
strength of the French army.
While the King cultivated the affections of the common soldiers with very
imperfect success, he was more fortunate in attaching to himself the

maréchals, whom he treated with the utmost respect and kindness. They
were gratified by his attentions, and, having most of them some recent
reason to complain of Napoleon, it is possible, that had they possessed
absolute, or even very extensive interest with the army, that disturbance in
the state of the nation which ensued, could not possibly have taken place.
But while Napoleon had preserved towards the maréchals the distance at
which a sovereign keeps subjects, he was often familiar with the inferior
officers and soldiers, and took care to keep himself in their eye, and occupy
their attention personally. He desired that his generals should resemble the
hilt of the sword, which may be changed at pleasure, while the army was
the blade itself, and retained the same temper, notwithstanding such partial
alteration. Thus, the direct and personal interest of the Emperor superseded,
in the soldier's bosom, all attachment to his lieutenants.
It would be wasting time to show reasons, why the
THE ARMY—STATE French army should have been attached to Napoleon.
OF PARTIES.
They could not be supposed to forget the long career
of success which they had pursued under his banner, the pensions granted in
foreign countries which were now retrenched, and the licensed plunder of
their Emperor's unceasing campaigns. At present, they conceived the King
proposed to reduce their numbers so soon as he could with safety, and
imagined their very existence was about to be at stake.
Nor was it only the selfish interests of the army which rendered them
discontented. The sense of honour, as it was called, or rather the vanity of
military ascendency and national aggrandisement, had been inspired by
Buonaparte into all classes of his subjects, though they were chiefly
cherished by his companions in arms. According to their opinion, the glory
of France had risen with Buonaparte, and sunk with him for ever; not, as
they fondly contended, through the superior force of the enemy, but by the
treachery of Marmont, and the other generals whom Napoleon trusted. This
sentiment passed from the ranks of the soldiers into other classes of society,
all of which are in France deeply susceptible of what is represented to them
as national glory; and it was again echoed back to the soldiers from fields,
from workshops, from manufactories. All began to agree, that they had
received the Bourbons from the hands of foreign conquerors; and that the
King's reign had only commenced, because France had been conquered, and
Paris surrendered. They remembered that the allies had declared the

restoration of the ancient family was combined with the restriction of
France within the ancient limits; and that, accordingly, the first act of
Monsieur, as lieutenant of the kingdom, had been to order the surrender of
upwards of fifty fortresses beyond the frontiers, which Buonaparte, it was
supposed, would have rendered the means of re-acquiring the conquests, of
which fortune or treachery had for a time bereft him. The meanest follower
of the camp affected to feel his share in the national disgrace of losing
provinces, to which France had no title save that of military usurpation. The
hope that the government would at least endeavour to reconquer Belgium,
so convenient for France, and which, as they contended, fell within her
natural boundaries, served for a time to combat these feelings; but when it
was perceived plainly that the government of France neither could nor
would engage in external war, for this or any other object, the discontent of
the army became universal, and they might be pronounced ripe for any
desperate enterprise.
Among the soldiers, the late Imperial Guards were distinguished for their
sullen enmity to the new order of things, and deemed themselves insulted at
the guard of the King's person being committed to a body of household
troops, selected as approved loyalists. The army were also much disgusted,
that the decorations of the Legion of Honour had been distributed with a
profusion, which seemed intended to diminish its value. But the course of
promotion was the deepest source of discontent. The princes of the blood-
royal had been early declared colonels-general by the King; and the army
soon discovered, or supposed they discovered, that under their auspices the
superior ranks of the army were likely to be filled by the emigrant nobility,
whose military service was considered as having been continued, while they
were in attendance upon the King during his exile. The most indecent
competition was thus excited between those whose claims were founded on
their devoted attachment to the House of Bourbon, and those who had borne
arms against that family, but still in the service of France. The truth is, that
the derangement of the finances, and the jealousy of the ministers, each of
whom claimed the exclusive patronage of his own department, left the King
no means so ready for discharging his debts of gratitude, and affording the
means of subsistence to his ancient friends and adherents, as by providing
for them in the army. The measure, though perhaps unavoidable, was in
many respects undesirable. Old men, past the age of service, or young men

who had never known it, were, in virtue of these claims, placed in
situations, to which the actual warriors conceived they had bought a title by
their laurels and their scars. The appearance of the superannuated
emigrants, who were thus promoted to situations ill-suited to age and
infirmity, raised the ridicule and contempt of Buonaparte's soldiers, while
the patrician haughtiness, and youthful presumption, of the younger nobles,
excited their indignation. The agents and friends of Buonaparte suffered not
these passions to cool. "There is a plot of the royalists against you," was
incessantly repeated to the regiments upon which these new officers were
imposed. "The Bourbons cannot think themselves safe while those who
shared the triumphs of Napoleon have either honour or existence. Your
ranks are subjected to the command of dotards, who have never drawn a
sword in battle, or who have served only in the emigrant bands of Condé, or
among the insurgent Chouans and Vendéans. What security have you
against being disbanded on a day's notice? And if the obligations of the
government to you bind them, as it would seem, so slightly, will you
consider yours to them as of a stricter description?" Such insinuations, and
such reasoning, inflamed the prejudices of the army. Disaffection spread
generally through their ranks; and, long before the bold attempt of
Napoleon, his former soldiery were almost universally prepared to aid him
in the recovery of his power.
The state of active political parties in France, we have thus described; but,
as is usual, the mass of the population were somewhat indifferent to their
principles, unless in moments of excitation. Parties in a state are to the
people at large what the winds are to the ocean. That which predominates
for the time, rolls the tide in its own direction; the next day it is hushed, and
the waves are under a different influence. The people of France at large
were averse to the Republicans or Jacobins. They retained too awful an
impression of the horrors of the tyranny exercised by these political
fanatics, to regard them otherwise than with terror. They were as little
Buonapartists; because they dreaded the restless temper of him who gave
name to this faction, and saw that while he was at the head of the French
government, the state of war must be perpetual. They could not be termed
Royalists, for they comprehended many with whom the name of Bourbon
had lost its charms; and a very large proportion of the country had their
fortune and prosperity so intimately connected with the Revolution, that

they were not disposed to afford any countenance to the re-establishment of
the monarchy on its ancient footing.
Upon the whole, this class of Frenchmen who may be called moderates, or
constitutionalists, and who contained the great bulk of the men of property,
substance, and education, hoped well of the King's government. His good
sense, humanity, love of justice, moderation, and other valuable qualities,
recommended him to their esteem, and they thought his restoration might
be considered as the guarantee of a lasting peace with the other nations of
Europe. But they dreaded and deprecated that counter revolutionary
reaction, as the established phrase was, which was regarded as the object of
the princes of the blood, the nobility, and the clergy. The property of many
of the constitutionalists was vested in national domains, and they watched
with doubt and fear every step which the emigrant nobility and clergy
seemed disposed to take for recovery of their former rights.
On this subject the moderate party were sensitively jealous, and the
proceedings which took place in the Chamber of Deputies threw striking
light on the state of the public mind. We must, therefore, turn the reader's
attention in that direction.
A petty riot, concerning precedence, had arisen in a church called Durnac,
between the seigneur of the parish, and the mayor of the commune. The
mayor brought the affair before the Chamber of Deputies by a violent
petition, in which he generalized his complaint against the whole body of
emigrants, whom he accused of desiring to place themselves above the
constituted authorities, and to treat France as a conquered country. The
Chamber, 20th November, 1814, treated the language of the petition as
calumnious, and the squabble as unworthy of their notice. But the debate
called forth expressions which intimated a suspicion that there existed a
dark and secret system, which tended to sow the seeds of discord and
anarchy among the citizens, and to resuscitate pretensions incompatible
with the laws. "It was," said the member[78] who made this statement,
"important to impress every class of Frenchmen with the great idea, that
there was no safety for France, for the King, for every member of society,
but in the maintenance of those constitutional principles on which were
founded the laws for protecting the whole."

The claims of the emigrants for restoration of their
EMIGRANT-CLAIMS. forfeited property, were, abstractedly, as just and
indubitable as that of the King to the throne. But the
political considerations in which they were involved, rendered any general
attempt to enforce those claims the sure signal of civil war; a civil war
almost certain to end in a second expatriation, both of the royal family and
their followers. In this dilemma, government seems to have looked
anxiously for some means of compromise which might afford relief to the
emigrants, without innovating on that article of the charter which ratified
the sale of national domains. M. Ferrand brought forward in the Chamber of
Delegates, a motion [Dec. 3] for the restoration of such estates of emigrants
as yet remained unsold. But this involved a question respecting the rights of
the much more numerous class whose property had been seized upon by the
state, and disposed of to third parties, to whom it was guaranteed by the
charter. Since these gentlemen could not be restored ex jure, to their estates,
as was proposed towards their more fortunate brethren, they had at least a
title to the price which had been surrogated in place of the property, of
which price the nation had still possession.
These proposals called forward M. Durbach, who charged Ferrand with the
fatal purpose of opening the door on the vast subject of national domains.
"Already," continued the orator, "the two extremities of the kingdom have
resounded with the words of the minister, as with the claps which precede
the thunderbolt. The effect which they have produced has been so rapid and
so general, that all civil transactions have been at once suspended. A general
distrust and excessive fear have caused a stagnation, the effects of which
even the royal treasury has felt. The proprietors of national property can no
longer sell or mortgage their estates. They are suddenly reduced to poverty
in the very bosom of wealth. Whence arises this calamity? The cause of it is
the declaration of the minister, that the property they possess does not
legally belong to them. For this is, in fact, the consequence of his assertion,
that 'the law recognises in the emigrants a right to property which always
existed.'"
The celebrated Maréchal Macdonald, a friend at once of monarchy and
freedom, of France and the Bourbons, undertook to bring forward a plan for
satisfying the emigrants, as far as the condition of the nation permitted; and
giving, at the same time, some indemnity for the pensions assigned by

Buonaparte to his veteran soldiers, which, during his reign, had been paid
from countries beyond the verge of France, until after the retreat from
Moscow, when they ceased to be paid at all. The maréchal's statement of the
extent of the sale of the national domains, shows how formidable the task of
undoing that extensive transference of property must necessarily have been;
the number of persons directly or indirectly interested in the question of
their security, amounting to nine or ten millions. "Against this Colossus,"
continued the maréchal, "whose height the eye cannot measure, some
impotent efforts would affect to direct themselves; but the wisdom of the
King has foreseen this danger, even for the sake of those imprudent persons
who might have exposed themselves to it." He proceeded, in a very
eloquent strain, to eulogize the conduct of the emigrants, to express respect
for their persons, compassion for their misfortunes, honour for their fidelity,
and proceeded to observe, that the existence of these old proprietors, as
having claims on the estates which had been acquired by others, placed
them in a situation which ought not to exist. He therefore proposed that the
nation should satisfy the claims of these unfortunate gentlemen, if not in
full, at least upon such terms of composition as had been applied to other
national obligations. Upon this footing, he calculated that an annuity of
twelve millions of livres yearly, would pay off the claims of the various
emigrants of all descriptions. He next drew a picture of the distressed
veteran soldiers; pensioners of the state who had been reduced to distress by
the discontinuance of their pensions, bought with their blood in a thousand
battles. Three millions more of livres he computed as necessary to discharge
this sacred obligation.[79]
There was wisdom, manliness, and generosity in the plan of Maréchal
Macdonald; and, could it have been carried into decisive execution, it
would have greatly appeased the fears and jealousies of the proprietors of
national domains, and shown an impartiality betwixt the claims of the
emigrants and those of the army, which ought to have conciliated both.
Unhappily, funds were awanting, and the royal government, so far from
being able to incur a new expense of fifteen millions yearly, was not in a
condition to discharge the various demands upon them, without continuing
the oppressive tax of Les droits réunis.
It is, indeed, on the subject of finance and taxation, that almost all
revolutions among civilized nations have been found to hinge; and there is

scarce any judging how long actual oppression may be endured, so long as
it spares the purse of individuals, or how early a heavy tax, even for the
most necessary objects, will excite insurrection. Without the heavy taxation
of the Spaniards, the Dutch would scarcely have rebelled against them; it
was imposts which fired the blood of the Swiss against the Austrians;
without the stamp-act the American Revolution might have been long
postponed; and but for the disorder of the French finances, Louis XVI. need
never have summoned together the National Assembly. France was now
again agitated by one of those fever fits, which arise from the sensitiveness
of the subject's purse.
A report on the state of the public finances, by the
FRENCH FINANCE. Abbé de Montesquieu, had given a singular instance
of Buonaparte's deceptive policy. Annual expositions
of national receipt and expenditure had been periodically published since he
assumed the reins of government, which were, to outward appearance,
unchallengeably accurate; and as they seemed to balance each other,
afforded the fair prospect that, the revenues of the state being realized, the
expenses could not fall into arrear. But in reality, a number of extraordinary
expenses were withheld from the view of the public, while, on the other
hand, the produce of the taxes was over-estimated. Thus the two budgets of
1812, and 1813, upon close examination, exhibited a deficit of upwards of
312 millions of livres,[80] or thirteen millions sterling. Buonaparte was not
ignorant of this fact, but concealed it from the eyes of the nation, in hopes
of replacing it, as in his more successful days, by foreign tribute, and, in the
meantime, supplied himself by the anticipation of other funds; as an
unfaithful book-keeper makes up a plausible balance to meet the eye of his
master, and covers his peculations by his dexterity in the use of ciphers.
Upon the whole, the debts of France appeared to have increased in the
course of thirteen years to the extent of 1,645,469,000 francs, or more than
sixty-eight millions and a half of sterling money.
These financial involvements accorded ill with the accomplishment of an
unfortunate and hasty promise of Monsieur,[81] that the severe and pressing
taxes called les droits réunis should be abolished, which had been made
when he first entered France, and while, betwixt hope and despair, he
essayed every inducement for the purpose of drawing adherents to the royal
cause. On the other hand, the King, upon ascending the throne, had engaged

himself, with perhaps too much latitude, to pay all the engagements which
the state had contracted under the preceding government. To redeem both
these pledges was impossible, for without continuing this very obnoxious
and oppressive tax, the crown could not have the means of discharging the
national debt. A plan was in vain proposed by Jalabert to replace this
oppressive excise by a duty on wines; the motion was referred to a
committee of the Chamber of Representatives, but the substitution seems to
have been found impossible. Louis naturally made the promise of his
brother give way to his own more deliberate engagement. But it is not the
less true, that by continuing to levy les droits réunis, many, not otherwise
disinclined to the royal government than as it affected their purses, were
enabled to charge the King with breach of faith towards his subjects, and
would listen to no defence upon a topic on which few people are disposed
to hear reason against their own interest.
There remained yet another subject of alarm and
THE PRESS. dread, to excite the minds not only of those who were
desirous of revolution, or, according to the Roman
phrase, cupidi novarum rerum; but of others, who, devotedly attached to the
welfare of France, desired to see her enjoy, under the sway of a legitimate
monarch, the exercise of national liberty. They had the misfortune to see
that liberty attacked in the point where it is most sensitive, namely, by
imposing restraints upon the public press.
Buonaparte had made it part of his system to keep this powerful engine in
his own iron hand, well aware that his system of despotism could not have
subsisted for six months, if his actions had been exposed to the censure of
the public, and his statements to contradiction and to argument. The
Bourbons having unloosed the chain by which the liberty of the press was
confined, the spirit of literary and political controversy rushed out with such
demoniacal violence, as astonished and terrified those who had released it
from confinement. The quantity of furious abuse poured out against the
Bourbons, might have authorised the authors to use the words of Caliban—

"You taught me language, and my profit on't
Is—I know how to curse."[82]

Eager to repress the spirit which displayed itself so unequivocally, a motion
was made on the 4th of July, 1814,[83] for establishing a censorship upon
pamphlets under a certain length, and placing all journals and newspapers
under the direction of government.
This important subject was discussed with great manliness and talent in the
Assembly; but it is one of the many political maxims which the British
receive as theorems, that, without absolute freedom of the public press (to
be exercised always on the peril of such as misuse it,) there can neither be
enlightened patriotism nor liberal discussion; and that, although the forms
of a free constitution may be preserved where this liberty is restricted, they
will soon fail to have the necessary beneficial effects in protecting the rights
of the community and the safety of individuals. The liberty of the press
affords a channel through which the injured may challenge his oppressor at
the bar of the nation; it is the means by which public men may, in case of
misconduct, be arraigned before their own and succeeding ages; it is the
only mode in which bold and undisguised truth can press its way into the
cabinets of monarchs; and it is the privilege, by means of which he, who
vainly lifts his voice against the corruptions or prejudices of his own time,
may leave his counsels upon record as a legacy to impartial posterity. The
cruelty which would deafen the ear and extinguish the sight of an
individual, resembles, in some similar degree, his guilt, who, by restricting
the freedom of the press, would reduce a nation to the deafness of prejudice,
and the blindness of ignorance. The downfall of this species of freedom, as
it is the first symptom of the decay of national liberty, has been in all ages
followed by its total destruction, and it may be justly pronounced that they
cannot exist separately; or, as the elegiac poet has said of his hero and the
country to which he belonged—

"Ille tibi superesse negat; tu non potes illi."

We must own, at the same time, that as no good comes to us unmixed with
evil, the unlimited freedom of the press is attended with obvious
inconveniencies, which, when a nation is in a certain state of excitation,
render the exercise of it peculiarly dangerous. This is especially the case
when a people, as then in France, are suddenly released from a state of
bondage, and disposed, "like youthful colts broke loose," to make the most
extravagant use of their liberty. With minds unprepared for discussion; with

that degree of political misinformation which has done this age more dire
mischief than absolute ignorance itself could have effected; subject to be
influenced by the dashing pamphleteer, who soothes their prevailing
passions, as the orations of their popular demagogues soothed those of the
Athenians—it has been the opinion of many statesmen, that to withhold
from such a nation the freedom of the press, is a measure justifiable alike by
reason and necessity. "We proportion," say these reasoners, "liberty to the
power of enjoying it. The considerate and the peaceful we suffer to walk at
liberty, and armed, if their occasions require it; but we restrain the child, we
withhold weapons from the ruffian, and we fetter the maniac. Why,
therefore," they ask, "should a nation, when in a state of fever, be supplied,
without restriction, with the indulgences which must necessarily increase
the disorder?" Our answer is ready—that, granting the abuse of the liberty
of the press to exist in the most fearful latitude (and we need not look to
France for examples,) the advantages derived from it are so inestimable,
that, to deprive us of them, would be as if an architect should shut up the
windows which supply light and air to a mansion, because a certain
proportion of cold, and perhaps of rain, may force their way in at the
aperture. Besides, we acknowledge ourselves peculiarly jealous of the
sentiments of the members of every government on this delicate subject.
Their situation renders them doubtful friends to a privilege, through which
alone they can be rendered amenable to the public for the abuse of their
power, and through which also they often see their just and temperate
exercise of authority maligned and misconstrued. To princes, also, the
license of the press is, for many reasons distasteful. To put it under
regulation, seems easy and desirable, and the hardship on the community
not greater (in their account) than the enforcing of decent respect and
subordination—of the sort of etiquette, in short, which is established in all
courts, and which forbids the saving, under any pretext, what may be rude
or disagreeable to a sovereign, or even unpleasing to be heard. Under these
circumstances, and in the present state of France, men rather regretted than
wondered that the ministers of Louis XVIII. were disposed to place
restrictions on the freedom of the press, or that they effected their purpose
of placing the light of nations under a censorial bushel.
But the victory thus obtained brought additional evils on the government.
The law was evaded under various devices; the works which it was

intended to intercept, acquired circulation and importance from the very
circumstance of their being prohibited; while the whole tenor of the
measure impressed many who had otherwise been friendly to the Bourbon
family, with distrust respecting their designs upon the national liberty.[84]
Thus split into parties, oppressed with taxes, vexed with those nameless and
mysterious jealousies and fears which form the most dangerous subjects of
disagreement, because alike incapable of being explained and confuted,
France was full of inflammable materials; and the next chapter will show
that there was not wanting a torch to give kindling to them.

CHAPTER LXXXIV.
Carnot's Memorial on Public Affairs—Fouché joins the
Jacobins—Projects of that Party; which finally joins the
Buonapartists—Active Intrigues—Congress of Vienna—Murat,
alarmed at its proceedings, opens an intercourse with Napoleon
—Plans of the Conspirators—Buonaparte's Escape from Elba—
He lands at Cannes—Is joined at Grenoble, by 3000 Troops—
Halts at Lyons, appoints a Ministry, and issues several Decrees
—Dismay of the Government—Intrigues of Fouché—Treachery
of Ney—Revolt of the Royal Army at Melun—The King leaves
Paris and Buonaparte arrives there—His Reception.
Carnot has been repeatedly mentioned in this history as having been the
associate and colleague of Robespierre during the whole Reign of Terror.
His admirers pretend, that charging himself only with the conduct of the
foreign war, he left to his brethren of the Committee of Public Safety the
sole charge of those measures, for which no human language affords
epithets of sufficient horror, through which they originally rose to power,
and by which they maintained it. According to these fond advocates, their
hero held his course through the Reign of Terror, unsullied by a bloody
spot, as Arethusa rolled her waters through the ocean without mingling with
its waves; and the faith of most readers will swallow the ancient miracle as
easily as the modern. Carnot, however, had the independence of spirit to
oppose Napoleon's seizure of the throne, and remained in obscurity until
1814, when he employed his talents as an engineer in defence of Antwerp.
He gave in, late and reluctantly, his adherence to the restoration, and was
confirmed in his rank of inspector-general of engineers. But this did not
prevent him from being extremely active in conspiring the downfall of the
monarch to whose allegiance he had submitted himself, and who afforded
him subsistence and rank.
Carnot gave his opinion upon public affairs in a
CARNOT'S "Memorial to his most Christian Majesty," made
MEMORIAL.
public in October, 1814, which was at once an

apology for the Jacobin party, and a direct attack on the reigning dynasty.
This document we must necessarily consider at some length, as it conveys
the ostensible reasons on which the author, and many thousands besides,
having in their anxious consideration the interests of the freedom of France,
thought these interests would be best provided for by destroying the sway
of a mild and somewhat feeble monarch, whose reign was identified with
peace and tranquillity, in order to recall to the throne an absolute sovereign,
ruling on military principles only, and whose first step under the canopy of
state must necessarily be followed by war with all Europe.
In this singular, and, as it proved, too effective production, every fault
committed by the restored family is exaggerated; and they, with the nobles,
their personal adherents, are, under a thin and contemptuous veil of
assumed respect towards the King, treated alike as fools, who did not
understand how to govern France, and as villains, who meditated her ruin.
The murder of the King is, with irony as envenomed as unjust, stated to
have been occasioned, not by the violence and cruelty of his persecutors,
but by the pusillanimity of his nobility, who first provoked the resentment
of the nation, and then fled from the kingdom, when, if they had loved their
sovereign, they should have rallied around him.[85] This plea, in the mouth
of a regicide, is as if one of a band of robbers should impute an
assassination not to their own guilty violence, but to the cowardice of the
domestics of the murdered, by whom that violence might have been
resisted.
No one also knew better than Carnot by what arts Louis XVI. was induced
by degrees to abandon all means of defence which his situation afforded
him, and to throw himself upon the sworn faith and allegiance of those by
whom he was condemned to death. As whimsical and unlogical were the
examples and arguments referred to by Carnot in support of the
condemnation of Louis. Cicero, it seems, says in his Offices, "We hate all
those we fear, and we wish for the death of those we hate." On this
comprehensive ground, Carnot vindicates the orator's approbation of the
death of Cæsar, notwithstanding the clemency of the usurper; "and Cato,
indeed" (continues the colleague of Robespierre,) "went farther, and did not
think it possible there should be a good king." Of course, not Louis XVI.
alone, but all monarchs, might be justly put to death in Carnot's estimation;
because they are naturally the objects of fear to their subjects—because we

hate those we fear—and because, according to the kindred authority of
Shylock, no man "hates the thing he would not kill."[86] The doctrine of
regicide is said to be confirmed in the Old Testament; families were
massacred—monarchs proscribed—intolerance promulgated, by the
ministers of a merciful deity: Wherefore, then, should not the Jacobins put
Louis XVI. to death? If it was alleged, that the persons of Kings were
inviolable by the laws of all civil governments, those of usurpers certainly
were not so protected; and what means were there, said Carnot, for
positively distinguishing between an usurper and a legitimate king?—The
difficulty of making such a distinction was no doubt a sufficient vindication
of the judges of Louis XVI.
Trash like this had scarce been written since the club-room of the Jacobins
was closed. But the object of Carnot's pamphlet was not to excuse a deed
(which he would probably have rather boasted of as laudable,) but by the
exaggerations of his eloquence, and the weight of his influence with the
public, to animate the fury of the other parties against the Bourbons and
their adherents. The King was charged with having been ungrateful to the
call of the nation—(a call which assuredly he would never have heard but
for the cannon of the allies,)—with having termed himself King by the
grace of God—with resigning Belgium when Carnot was actually governor
of Antwerp—with preferring Chouans, Vendéans, emigrants, Cossacks, or
Englishmen, to the soldiers whose victories had kept him in exile, and in
consequence of whose defeat alone he had regained the throne of his
fathers. The emigrants are represented as an exasperated, yet a contemptible
faction. The people, it is said, care little about the right of their rulers—
about their quarrels—their private life, or even their political crimes, unless
as they affect themselves. All government, of course, has its basis in
popular opinion; but, alas! in actual history, "the people are only regarded,"
says M. Carnot, "as the victims of their chiefs; we witness nothing but the
contest of subjects for the private interest of their princes—kings, who are
themselves regicides and parricides—and priests who incite mankind to
mutual slaughter. The eye can but repose on the generous efforts of some
brave men who consecrate themselves to the deliverance of their fellow-
countrymen; if they succeed, they are called heroes—if they fail, they are
traitors and demagogues." In this and other passages, the author plainly
intimated what spirits were at work, and what was the object of their

machinations. The whole pamphlet was designed as a manifesto to the
French public, darkly, yet distinctly, announcing the existence of a
formidable conspiracy, the principles on which its members proceeded, and
their grounds for expecting success.
Carnot himself affected to say, that the Memorial was
CARNOT'S only designed for circulation among his private
MEMORIAL—
FOUCHÉ. connexions.[87] But it would not have answered the
intended purpose had it not been printed and
dispersed with the most uncommon assiduity. Small carts traversed the
boulevards, from which it was hawked about among the people, in order to
avoid the penalties which booksellers and stationers might have incurred by
dealing in an article so inflammatory. Notwithstanding these evasions, the
printers and retailers of this diatribe were prosecuted by government; but
the Cour d'Instruction refused to confirm the bill of indictment, and this
failure served to encourage the Jacobin faction. The official proceedings, by
which the ministers endeavoured to suppress the publication, irritated rather
than intimidated those who took interest in it. It argued, they said, at once a
timorous and a vindictive spirit to oppress the inferior agents in an alleged
libel, while the ministers dared not bring to trial the avowed author.[88] In
this unquestionably they argued justly; for the measures corresponded with
that paltry policy, which would rather assail the liberty of the press, than
bring to fair trial and open punishment those by whom it is misused.
It would have been as impossible for Fouché to have lived amid such a
complicated scene of political intrigue, without mingling in it, as for the
sparks to resist flying upwards. He was, however, ill-placed for the
character he desired to act. After having lent Buonaparte his aid to betray
and dethrone the Directors, he had long meditated how to dethrone and
betray Buonaparte, and substitute in his place a regency, or some form of
government under which he might expect to act as prime minister. In this
undertaking, he more than once ran the peril of life, and was glad to escape
with an honourable exile. We have already stated that he had missed the
most favourable opportunity for availing himself of his political knowledge,
by his absence from Paris when it was taken by the allies. Fouché
endeavoured, however, to obtain the notice of the restored monarch and his
government, and to render his services acceptable to Louis. When the
celebrated Revolutionist appeared in the antechamber on his first attendance

at court, he observed a sneer on the countenance of some Royalists who
were in waiting, and took the hint to read them a lesson, showing, that a
minister of police, even when he has lost his office, is not a person to be
jested with. "You, sir," said he to a gentleman, "seem proud of the lilies with
which you are adorned. Do you recollect the language you held respecting
the Bourbon family some time since in such a company?—And you,
madam," he continued, addressing a lady, "to whom I gave a passport to
England, may perhaps wish to be reminded of what then passed betwixt us
on the subject of Louis XVIII." The laughers were conscience-struck, and
Fouché was introduced into the cabinet.
The plan which Fouché recommended to the King was, as might have been
expected, astucious and artificial in a high degree. He advised the King to
assume the national cockade and three-coloured flag; to occupy the
situation of chief of the Revolution. This, he said, would be the same
sacrifice by Louis XVIII. as the attending on the mass by Henry IV.—He
might have added, it was the sacrifice actually made by Louis XVI., who
lost his life in requital.—What Fouché aimed at by this action is evident. He
desired to place the King in a situation where he must have relied
exclusively on the men of the Revolution, with whom he could not have
communicated save by the medium of the Duc d'Otranto, who thus would
become prime minister at the first step. But in every other point of view, the
following that advice must have placed the King in a mean and hypocritical
attitude, which must have disgusted even those whom it was adopted to
conciliate.
By assuming the colours of the Revolution, the King of France must
necessarily have stained himself with the variation of each of its numerous
changes. It is true that the Revolution had produced many excellent
improvements in France, affecting both the theory and the practice of
government. These the sovereign was bound carefully to preserve for the
advantage of the nation. But while we are grateful for the advantages of
increased health and fertility that may follow a tornado, and treasure up the
valuable things which an angry ocean may cast upon the shore, none but a
blinded heathen worships the tempest, or sacrifices to the furious waves.
The King, courting the murderers of his brother, could inspire, even in
them, nothing save disgust at his hypocrisy, while it would justly have

forfeited the esteem and affection, not of the royalists alone, but of all
honest men.
Further to recommend himself to the Bourbons, Fouché addressed a
singular epistle to Napoleon, in which he endeavoured to convince him, that
the title of sovereign, in the paltry islet of Elba, did not become him who
had possessed an immense empire. He remarked to Napoleon, that the
situation of the island was not suitable to his purpose of retirement, being
near so many points where his presence might produce dangerous agitation.
He observed that he might be accused, although he was not criminal, and do
evil without intending it, by spreading alarm. He hinted that the King of
France, however determined to act with justice, yet might be instigated by
the passions of others to break through that rule. He told the Ex-Emperor of
France, that the titles which he retained were only calculated to augment his
regret for the loss of real sovereignty. Nay, that they were attended with
positive danger, since it might be thought they were retained only to keep
alive his pretensions. Lastly, he exhorted Napoleon to assume the character
of a private individual, and retire to the United States of America, the
country of Franklin, Washington, and Jefferson.[89]
Fouché could scarcely expect that this monitory epistle should have much
effect upon his once imperial master; he knew human nature and
Buonaparte too well. But as it might tell to advantage with the royal family,
he sent a copy of it to Monsieur, with a corresponding commentary, the
object of which was to point out (what, indeed, circumstances had made
evident,) that the tranquillity of the countries and sovereigns of Europe
could never be secured while Napoleon remained in his present condition,
and that his residence in the isle of Elba was to France what Vesuvius is to
Naples.[90] The practical inference to be derived from this was, that a gentle
degree of violence to remove the person of Napoleon would have been a
stroke of state policy, in case the Ex-Emperor of France should not himself
have the patriotic virtue to remove himself to America. The honourable and
generous prince, to whom Fouché had addressed himself, had too noble a
mind to adopt the hint; and this attempt to ingratiate himself with the
Bourbon family entirely failed. But plotting was Fouché's element; and it
seems to have signified little to him whom he had for partners, providing he
had a stake in the political game. He retired to his country-house, and
engaged himself with his old friends of the Jacobin party, who were not a

little glad to avail themselves of his extensive acquaintance with all the
ramifications of political intrigue.
It was the policy of this party to insist upon the faults
PROJECTS OF THE of the royal family, and enlarge on their prejudices
JACOBINS.
against the men and measures of that period when
France was successful in foreign war, against the statesman who directed,
and the soldiers who achieved her gigantic enterprises. The King, they said,
had suffered misfortune without having learned wisdom; he was incapable
of stepping beyond the circle of his Gothic prejudices; France had received
him from the hand of foreign conquerors, surrounded by an emaciated
group of mendicant nobles, whose pretensions were as antiquated and
absurd as their decorations and manners. His government went to divide,
they alleged, the French into two classes, opposed to each other in merits as
in interests;—the emigrants, who alone were regarded by Louis as faithful
and willing subjects; and the rest of the nation, in whom the Bourbons saw,
at best, but repentant rebels. They asserted, that, too timid as yet to strike an
open blow, the King and his ministers sought every means to disqualify and
displace all who had taken any active share in the events of the Revolution,
and to evade the general promise of amnesty. Under pretext of national
economy, they were disbanding the army, and removing the officers of
government—depriving thus the military and civil servants of France of the
provision which their long services had earned. Louis, they said, had
insulted the glory of France, and humiliated her heroes, by renouncing the
colours and symbols under which twenty-five years had seen her victorious;
he had rudely refused a crown offered to him by the people, and snatched it
as his own right by inheritance, as if the dominion of men could be
transferred from father to son like the property of a flock of sheep. The right
of Frenchmen to choose their own ruler was hereditary and imprescriptible;
and the nation, they said, must assert it, or sink to be the contempt, instead
of being the pride at once and dread of Europe.
Such was the language which nettled, while it alarmed, the idle Parisians,
who forgot at the moment that they had seen Napoleon take the crown from
the altar at Notre Dame, and place it on his own head, with scarcely an
acknowledgment to God, and not the shadow of any towards the nation. The
departments were assailed by other arts of instigation. The chief of these
was directed to excite the jealousy, so often alluded to, concerning the

security of the property of national domains. Not content with urging
everywhere that a revocation of the lands of the Church and emigrants was
impending over the present proprietors, and that the clergy and nobles did
not even deign to conceal their hopes and designs, a singular device was in
many instances practised to enforce the belief of such assertions. Secret
agents were despatched into the departments where property was advertised
for sale. These emissaries made inquiries as if in the character of intending
purchasers, and where the property appeared to have been derived from
revolutionary confiscation, instantly objected to the security as good for
nothing, and withdrew their pretended offers;—thus impressing the
proprietor, and all in the same situation, with the unavoidable belief, that
such title was considered as invalid, owing to the expected and menaced
revocation of the Bourbon government.
It is generally believed that Buonaparte was not originally the object
designed to profit by these intrigues. He was feared and hated by the
Jacobin party, who knew what a slender chance his iron government
afforded of their again attempting to rear their fantastic fabrics, whether of a
pure republic, or a republican monarchy. It is supposed their eyes were
turned in preference towards the Duke of Orleans. They reckoned probably
on the strength of the temptation, and they thought, that in supplanting
Louis XVIII., and placing his kinsman in his room, they would obtain, on
the one hand, a king who should hold his power by and through the
Revolution, and, on the other, that they would conciliate both foreign
powers and the constitutionalists at home, by choosing their sovereign out
of the family of Bourbon. The more cautious of those concerned in the
intrigue, recommended that nothing should be attempted during the life of
the reigning monarch; others were more impatient and less cautious; and the
prince alluded to received an intimation of their plan in an unsigned billet,
containing only these words—"We will act it without you; we will act it in
spite of you; we will act it FOR you;"[91] as if putting it in his choice to be
the leader or victim of the intended revolution.
The Duke of Orleans was too upright and honourable
JACOBINS— to be involved in this dark and mysterious scheme; he
BUONAPARTISTS.
put the letter which he had received into the hands of
the King, and acted otherwise with so much prudence, as to destroy all the
hopes which the revolutionary party had founded upon him. It was

necessary to find out some other central point. Some proposed Eugene
Beauharnois as the hero of the projected movement;[92] some projected a
provisional government; and others desired that the republican model
should be once more adopted. But none of these plans were likely to be
favoured by the army. The cry of Vive la Republique had become
antiquated; the power once possessed by the Jacobins of creating popular
commotion was greatly diminished; and although the army was devoted to
Buonaparte, yet it was probable that in a civil commotion in which he had
no interest, they would follow the maréchals or generals who commanded
them, in opposition to any insurrection merely revolutionary. If, on the
contrary, the interests of Napoleon were put in the van, there was no fear of
securing the irresistible assistance of the standing army. If he came back
with the same principles of absolute power which he had formerly
entertained, still the Jacobins would get rid of Louis and the charter, the two
chief objects of their hatred; the former as a King given by the law, the
latter as a law given by the King.
These considerations speedily determined the Jacobin party on a union with
the Buonapartists. The former were in the condition of a band of
housebreakers, who, unable to force an entrance into the house which they
have the purpose to break into, renew their undertaking, and place at their
head a brother of the same profession, because he has the advantage of
having a crow-bar in his hand. When and how this league was formed—
what sanction the Jacobin party obtained that Buonaparte, dethroned as a
military despot, was to resume his dignity under constitutional restrictions,
we have no opportunity of knowing. But so soon as the coalition was
formed, his praises were sung forth on all sides, especially by many who
had been, as Jacobins, his most decided enemies; and a great part of the
French public were disposed to think of Buonaparte at Elba more
favourably than Napoleon in the Tuileries. Gradually, even from the novelty
and peculiarity of his situation, he began to excite a very different interest
from that which attached to the despot who levied so many conscriptions,
and sacrificed to his ambition so many millions of victims. Every instance
of his activity, within the little circle of his dominions, was contrasted by
his admirers with the constitutional inertness of the restored monarch.
Excelling as much in the arts of peace as in those of war, it wanted but (they
said) the fostering hand and unwearied eye of Napoleon to have rendered

France the envy of the universe, had his military affairs permitted the
leisure and opportunity which the Bourbons now enjoyed. These
allegations, secretly insinuated, and at length loudly murmured, had their
usual effects upon the fickle temper of the public; and, as the temporary
enthusiasm in favour of the Bourbons faded into indifference and aversion,
the general horror of Buonaparte's ambitious and tyrannical disposition
began to give way to the recollection of his active, energetic, and
enterprising qualities.
This change must soon have been known to him who was its object. An
expression is said to have escaped from him during his passage to Elba,
which marked at least a secret feeling that he might one day recover the
high dignity from which he had fallen. "If Marius," he observed, "had slain
himself in the marshes of Minturnæ, he would never have enjoyed his
seventh consulate." What was perhaps originally but the vague aspirations
of an ardent spirit striving against adversity, became, from the
circumstances of France, a plausible and well-grounded hope. It required
but to establish communications among his numerous and zealous partisans,
with instructions to hold out such hopes as might lure the Jacobins to his
standard, and to profit by and inflame the growing discontents and divisions
of France; and a conspiracy was almost ready formed, with little exertion on
the part of him who soon became its object and its centre.
Various affiliations and points of rendezvous were now arranged to recruit
for partisans. The ladies of the Ex-Emperor's court, who found themselves
humiliated at that of the King by the preference assigned to noble birth,
were zealous agents in these political intrigues, for offended pride hesitates
at no measures for obtaining vengeance. The purses of their husbands and
lovers were of course open to these fair intriguers, and many of them
devoted their jewels to forward the cause of Revolution. The chief of these
female conspirators was Hortensia Beauharnois, wife of Louis Buonaparte,
but now separated from her husband, and bearing the title of the Duchess of
Saint Leu. She was a person of considerable talents, and of great activity
and address. At Nanterre, Neuilly, and Saint Leu, meetings of the
conspirators were held, and Madame Hamelin, the confidant of the duchess,
is said to have assisted in concealing some of the principal agents.

The Duchess of Bassano, and the Duchess of Montebello (widow of
Maréchal Lannes,) were warmly engaged in the same cause. At the
meetings held in the houses of these intriguing females, the whole artillery
of conspiracy was forged and put in order, from the political lie, which does
its work if believed but for an hour, to the political song or squib, which,
like the fire-work from which it derives its name, expresses love of frolic or
of mischief, according to the nature of the materials amongst which it is
thrown. From these places of rendezvous the agents of the plot sallied out
upon their respective rounds, furnished with every lure that could rouse the
suspicious landholder, attract the idle Parisian, seduce the Ideologue, who
longed to try the experiments of his Utopian theories upon real government,
and above all, secure the military—from the officer, before whose eyes
truncheons, coronets, and even crowns, were disposed in ideal prospect, to
the grenadier, whose hopes only aimed at blood, brandy, and free quarters.
The lower orders of the populace, particularly those
RICHARD LE NOIR. inhabiting the two great suburbs of Saint Marceau and
Saint Antoine, were disposed to the cause from their
natural restlessness and desire of change; from the apprehension that the
King would discontinue the expensive buildings in which Buonaparte was
wont to employ them; from a Jacobinical dislike to the lawful title of Louis,
joined to some tender aspirations after the happy days of liberty and
equality; and lastly, from the disposition which the lees of society every
where manifest to get rid of the law, their natural curb and enemy. The
influence of Richard le Noir was particularly useful to the conspirators. He
was a wealthy cotton-manufacturer, who combined and disciplined no less
than three thousand workmen in his employment, so as to be ready at the
first signal of the conspirators. Le Noir was called by the Royalists Santerre
the Second; being said to aspire, like that celebrated suburban brewer, to
become a general of Sans Culottes. He was bound to Buonaparte's interest
by his daughter having married General Lefebvre Desnouettes, who was not
the less the favourite of Napoleon that he had broken his parole, and fled
from England when a prisoner of war. Thus agitated like a lake by a
subterranean earthquake, revolutionary movements began to show
themselves amongst the populace. At times, under pretence of scarcity of
bread or employment, tumultuous groups assembled on the terrace of the
Tuileries, with clamours which reminded the Duchess D'Angoulême of

those that preceded the imprisonment and death of her parents. The police
dispersed them for the moment; but if any arrests were made, it was only of
such wretches as shouted when they heard others shout, and no efforts were
made to ascertain the real cause of symptoms so alarming.
The police of Paris was at this time under the direction of M. D'André,
formerly a financier. His loyalty does not seem to have been doubted, but
his prudence and activity are very questionable; nor does he seem ever to
have been completely master either of the duties of his office, or the tools
by which it was to be performed. These tools, in other words, the
subordinate agents and officers and clerks, the whole machinery as it were
of the police, had remained unchanged since that dreadful power was
administered by Savary, Buonaparte's head spy and confidential minister.
This body, as well as the army, felt that their honourable occupation was
declined in emolument and importance since the fall of Buonaparte, and
looked back with regret to the days when they were employed in agencies,
dark, secret, and well-recompensed, unknown to a peaceful and
constitutional administration. Like evil spirits employed by the spells of a
benevolent enchanter, these police officers seem to have served the King
grudgingly and unwillingly; to have neglected their duty, when that could
be done with impunity; and to have shown that they had lost their activity
and omniscience, so soon as embarked in the service of legitimate
monarchy.
Under the connivance, therefore, if not with the approbation of the police,
conspiracy assumed a more open and daring aspect. Several houses of
dubious fame, but especially the Café Montaussier, in the Palais Royal,
were chosen as places of rendezvous for the subordinate satellites of the
cause, where the toasts given, the songs sung, the tunes performed, and the
language held, all bore allusion to Buonaparte's glories, his regretted
absence, and his desired return. To express their hopes that this event would
take place in the spring, the conspirators adopted for their symbol the violet;
and afterwards applied to Buonaparte himself the name of Corporal Violet.
The flower and the colour were publicly worn as a party distinction, before
it would seem the court had taken the least alarm; and the health of
Buonaparte, under the name of Corporal Violet, or Jean d'Epée, was
pledged by many a Royalist without suspicion of the concealed meaning.

Paris was the centre of the conspiracy; but its ramifications extended
through France. Clubs were formed in the chief provincial towns. Regular
correspondences were established between them and the capital—an
intercourse much favoured, it has been asserted, by Lavalette, who, having
been long director-general of the posts under Buonaparte, retained
considerable influence over the subordinate agents of that department, none
of whom had been displaced upon the King's return. It appears from the
evidence of M. Ferrand, director-general under the King, that the couriers,
who, like the soldiers and police officers, had found more advantage under
the imperial than under the royal government, were several of them in the
interest of their old master. And it is averred, that the correspondence
relating to the conspiracy was carried on through the royal post-office,
contained in letters sealed with the King's seal, and despatched by public
messengers wearing his livery.
Such open demonstrations of treasonable practices did not escape the
observation of the Royalists, and they appear to have been communicated to
the ministers from different quarters. Nay, it has been confidently stated,
that letters, containing information of Napoleon's intended escape, were
actually found in the bureau of one minister, unopened and unread. Indeed,
each of these official personages seems scrupulously to have intrenched
himself within the routine of his own particular department, so that what
was only of general import to the whole, was not considered as the business
of any one in particular. Thus, when the stunning catastrophe had happened,
each endeavoured to shift the blame from himself, like the domestics in a
large and ill-regulated family; and although all acknowledged that gross
negligence had existed elsewhere, no one admitted that the fault lay with
himself. This general infatuation surprises us upon retrospect; but Heaven,
who frequently punishes mankind by the indulgence of their own foolish or
wicked desires, had decreed that peace was to be restored to Europe, by the
extermination of that army to whom peace was a state so odious; and for
that purpose it was necessary that they should be successful in their
desperate attempt to dethrone their peaceful and constitutional sovereign,
and to reinstate the despotic leader, who was soon to lead them to the
completion of their destiny, and of his own.
While the royal government in France was thus gradually undermined and
prepared for an explosion, the rest of Europe resembled an ocean in the act

of settling after a mighty storm, when the partial wrecks are visible, heaving
on the subsiding swell, which threatens yet farther damage ere it be entirely
lulled to rest.
The Congress of representatives of the principal states
CONGRESS OF of Europe had met at Vienna, in order to arrange the
VIENNA.
confused and complicated interests which had arisen
out of so prolonged a period of war and alteration. The lapse of twenty-five
years of constant war and general change had made so total an alteration,
not merely in the social relations and relative powers of the states of
Europe, but in the habits, sentiments, and principles of the inhabitants, that
it appeared altogether impossible to restore the original system as it existed
before 1792. The continent resembled the wrecks of the city of London
after the great conflagration in 1666, when the boundaries of individual
property were so completely obliterated and confounded, that the king
found himself obliged, by the urgency of the occasion, to make new, and in
some degree arbitrary, distributions of the ground, in order to rebuild the
streets upon a plan more regular, and better fitted to the improved condition
of the age. That which proved ultimately an advantage to London, may
perhaps produce similar good consequences to the civilized world, and a
better and more permanent order of things may be expected to arise out of
that which has been destroyed. In that case, the next generation may reap
the advantages of the storms with which their fathers had to contend. We
are, however, far from approving of some of the unceremonious
appropriations of territory which were made upon this occasion, which, did
our limits admit of entering into the discussion, carried, we think, the use of
superior force to a much greater extent than could be justified on the
principles upon which the allies acted.
Amid the labours of the Congress, their attention was turned on the
condition of the kingdom of Naples; and it was urged by Talleyrand, in
particular, that allowing the existence of the sovereignty of Murat in that
beautiful kingdom, was preserving, at the risk of future danger to Europe,
an empire, founded on Napoleon's principles, and governed by his brother-
in-law. It was answered truly, that it was too late to challenge the foundation
of Murat's right of sovereignty, after having gladly accepted and availed
themselves of his assistance, in the war against Buonaparte. Talleyrand, by
exhibiting to the Duke of Wellington a train of correspondence[93] between

Buonaparte, his sister Caroline, and Murat, endeavoured to show that the
latter was insincere, when seeming to act in concert with the allies. The
Duke was of opinion, that the letters did not prove treachery, though they
indicated what was to be expected, that Murat took part against his brother-
in-law and benefactor, with considerable reluctance. The matter was now in
agitation before the Congress; and Murat, conceiving his power in danger,
seems to have adopted the rash expedient of changing sides once more, and
again to have renewed his intercourse with Napoleon. The contiguity of
Elba to Naples rendered this a matter of little difficulty; and they had,
besides, the active assistance of Pauline, who went and came between Italy
and her brother's little court. Napoleon, however, at all times resolutely
denied that he had any precise share or knowledge of the enterprise which
Murat meditated.
The King of France, in the meanwhile, recalled by proclamation all
Frenchmen who were in the Neapolitan service, and directed the title of
King Joachim to be omitted in the royal almanack.
Murat, alarmed at this indication of hostile intentions, carried on a secret
correspondence with France, in the course of which a letter was intercepted,
directed to the King of Naples, from General Excelsman, professing, in his
own name and that of others, devoted attachment, and assuring him that
thousands of officers, formed in his school and under his eye, would have
been ready at his call, had not matters taken a satisfactory turn. In
consequence of this letter, Excelsman was in the first place put on half-pay
and sent from Paris, which order he refused to obey. Next he was tried
before a court-martial, and triumphantly acquitted. He was admitted to kiss
the king's hand, and swear to him fidelity à toutes épreuves. How he kept
his word will presently appear. In the meantime the King had need of
faithful adherents, for the nets of conspiracy were closing fast around him.
The plot formed against Louis XVIII. comprehended
ESCAPE FROM ELBA. two enterprises. The first was to be achieved by the
landing of Napoleon from Elba, when the universal
good-will of the soldiers, the awe inspired by his name and character, and
the suspicions and insinuations spread widely against the Bourbons,
together with the hope of recovering what the nation considered as the lost
glory of France, were certain to insure him a general good reception. A

second, or subordinate branch of the conspiracy, concerned the insurrection
of a body of troops under General L'Allemand, who were quartered in the
north-east of France, and to whom was committed the charge of
intercepting the retreat of the King and royal family from Paris, and, seizing
them, to detain them as hostages at the restored Emperor's pleasure.
It is impossible to know at what particular period of his residence in Elba,
Napoleon gave an express consent to what was proposed, and disposed
himself to assume the part destined for him in the extraordinary drama. We
should suppose, however, his resolution was adopted about that time when
his manner changed completely towards the British envoy residing at his
little court, and when he assumed the airs of inaccessible and imperial state,
to keep at a distance, as an inconvenient observer, Sir Niel Campbell, to
whom he had before seemed rather partial. His motions after that time have
been described, so far as we have access to know them. It was on Sunday,
26th February, that Napoleon embarked with his guards on board the
flotilla, consisting of the Inconstant brig, and six other small vessels, upon
one of the most extraordinary and adventurous expeditions that was ever
attempted.[94] The force, with which he was once more to change the
fortunes of France, amounted but to about a thousand men. To keep the
undertaking secret, his sister Pauline gave a ball on the night of his
departure, and the officers were unexpectedly summoned, after leaving the
entertainment, to go on board the little squadron.
In his passage Napoleon encountered two great risks. The first was from
meeting a royal French frigate,[95] who hailed the Inconstant. The guards
were ordered to put off their caps, and go down below, or lie upon the deck,
while the captain of the Inconstant exchanged some civilities[96] with the
commander of the frigate, with whom he chanced to be acquainted; and
being well known in these seas, was permitted to pass on without farther
inquiry. The second danger was caused by the pursuit of Sir Niel Campbell,
in the Partridge sloop of war, who, following from Elba, where he had
learned Napoleon's escape, with the determination to capture or sink the
flotilla, could but obtain a distant view of the vessels as they landed their
passengers.[97]
This was on the first of March, when Napoleon, causing his followers once
more to assume the three-coloured cockade, disembarked at Cannes, a small

seaport in the gulf of Saint Juan, not far from Frejus, which had seen him
land, a single individual, returned from Egypt, to conquer a mighty empire;
had beheld him set sail, a terrified exile, to occupy the place of his
banishment; and now again witnessed his return, a daring adventurer, to
throw the dice once more for a throne or a grave. A small party of his guard
presented themselves before Antibes, but were made prisoners by General
Corsin the governor of the place.
Undismayed by a circumstance so unfavourable, Napoleon instantly began
his march at the head of scarce a thousand men, towards the centre of a
kingdom from which he had been expelled with execrations, and where his
rival now occupied in peace an hereditary throne. For some time the
inhabitants gazed on them with doubtful and astonished eyes, as if uncertain
whether to assist them as friends, or to oppose them as invaders. A few
peasants cried Vive l'Empereur! but the adventurers received neither
countenance nor opposition from those of the higher ranks. On the evening
of 2d March, a day and a half after landing, the little band of invaders
reached Ceremin, having left behind them their small train of artillery, in
order to enable them to make forced marches. As Napoleon approached
Dauphiné, called the cradle of the Revolution, the peasants greeted him
with more general welcome, but still no proprietors appeared, no clergy, no
public functionaries. But they were now near to those by whom the success
or ruin of the expedition must be decided.
Soult, the minister at war, had ordered some large
GRENOBLE. bodies of troops to be moved into the country betwixt
Lyons and Chamberri, to support, as he afterwards
alleged, the high language which Talleyrand had been of late holding at the
Congress, by showing that France was in readiness for war. If the maréchal
acted with good faith in this measure, he was at least most unfortunate; for,
as he himself admits, even in his attempt at exculpation, the troops were so
placed as if they had been purposely thrown in Buonaparte's way, and
proved unhappily to consist of corps peculiarly devoted to the Ex-Emperor's
person.[98] On the 7th of March, the seventh regiment of the line,
commanded by Colonel Labédoyère, arrived at Grenoble. He was young,
nobly born, handsome, and distinguished as a military man. His marriage
having connected him with the noble and loyal family of Damas, he
procured preferment and active employment from Louis XVIII. through

their interest, and they were induced even to pledge themselves for his
fidelity. Yet Labédoyère had been engaged by Cambrone deep in the
conspiracy of Elba, and used the command thus obtained for the destruction
of the monarch by whom he was trusted.
As Napoleon approached Grenoble, he came into contact with the outposts
of the garrison, who drew out, but seemed irresolute. Buonaparte halted his
own little party, and advanced almost alone, exposing his breast, as he
exclaimed, "He who will kill his Emperor, let him now work his pleasure."
The appeal was irresistible—the soldiers threw down their arms, crowded
round the general who had so often led them to victory, and shouted Vive
l'Empereur! In the meanwhile, Labédoyère, at the head of two battalions,
was sallying from the gates of Grenoble. As they advanced he displayed an
eagle, which, like that of Marius, worshipped by the Roman conspirator,
had been carefully preserved to be the type of civil war; at the same time he
distributed among the soldiers the three-coloured cockades, which he had
concealed in the hollow of a drum. They were received with enthusiasm. It
was in this moment that Maréchal de Camp Des Villiers, the superior officer
of Labédoyère, arrived on the spot, alarmed at what was taking place, and
expostulated with the young military fanatic and the soldiers. He was
compelled to retire. General Marchand, the loyal commandant of Grenoble,
had as little influence on the troops remaining in the place: they made him
prisoner, and delivered up the city to Buonaparte. Napoleon was thus at the
head of nearly three thousand soldiers, with a suitable train of artillery, and
a corresponding quantity of ammunition. He acted with a moderation which
his success could well afford, and dismissed General Marchand uninjured.
When the first news of Napoleon's arrival reached Paris, it excited surprise
rather than alarm;[99] but when he was found to traverse the country without
opposition, some strange and combined treason began to be generally
apprehended. That the Bourbons might not be wanting to their own cause,
Monsieur, with the Duke of Orleans, set out for Lyons, and the Duke
D'Angoulême repaired to Nismes. The Legislative Bodies, and most of the
better classes, declared for the royal cause. The residents of the various
powers hastened to assure Louis of the support of their sovereigns. Corps of
volunteers were raised both among the Royalists and the Constitutional or
moderate party. The most animating proclamations called the people to
arms. An address by the celebrated Benjamin Constant, one of the most

distinguished of the moderate party, was remarkable for its eloquence. It
placed in the most striking light the contrast between the lawful government
of a constitutional monarch, and the usurpation of an Attila, or Genghis,
who governed only by the sword of his Mamelukes. It reminded France of
the general detestation with which Buonaparte had been expelled from the
kingdom, and proclaimed Frenchmen to be the scorn of Europe, should they
again stretch their hands voluntarily to the shackles which they had burst
and hurled from them. All were summoned to arms, more especially those
to whom liberty was dear; for in the triumph of Buonaparte, it must find its
grave for ever.—"With Louis," said the address, "was peace and happiness;
with Buonaparte, war, misery, and desolation." Even a more animating
appeal to popular feeling was made by a female on the staircase of the
Tuileries, who exclaimed, "If Louis has not men enough to fight for him, let
him call on the widows and childless mothers who have been rendered such
by Napoleon."
Notwithstanding all these demonstrations of zeal, the
MELUN—LYONS. public mind had been much influenced by the causes
of discontent which had been so artfully enlarged
upon for many months past. The decided Royalists were few, the
Constitutionalists lukewarm. It became every moment more likely that not
the voice of the people, but the sword of the army, must determine the
controversy. Soult, whose conduct had given much cause for suspicion,[100]
which was augmented by his proposal to call out the officers who since the
restoration had been placed on half-pay, resigned his office, and was
succeeded by Clarke, Duke of Feltre, less renowned as a soldier, but more
trustworthy as a subject. A camp was established at Melun—troops were
assembled there—and as much care as possible was used in selecting the
troops to whom the royal cause was to be intrusted.
In the meantime, Fortune had not entirely abandoned the Bourbons. That
part of the Buonapartist conspiracy which was to have been executed in the
north was discovered and disconcerted. Lefebvre Desnouettes, discreditably
known in England by his breach of parole, with the two Generals
Lallemand, were the agents in this plot. On the 10th March, Lefebvre
marched forward his regiment to join Buonaparte; but the officers having
discovered his purpose, he was obliged to make his escape from the arrest
with which he was threatened. The two Lallemands put the garrison of

Lisle, to the number of 6000 men, in motion, by means of forged orders,
declaring there was an insurrection in Paris. But Maréchal Mortier, meeting
the troops on the march, detected and defeated the conspiracy, by which,
had it taken effect, the King and Royal Family must have been made
prisoners. The Lallemands were taken, and to have executed them on the
spot as traitors, might have struck a wholesome terror into such officers as
still hesitated; but the ministers of the King did not possess energy enough
for such a crisis.[101]
The progress of Buonaparte, in the meantime, was uninterrupted. It was in
vain that, at Lyons, Monsieur and the Duke of Orleans, with the assistance
of the advice and influence of Maréchal Macdonald, endeavoured to retain
the troops in their duty, and the inhabitants in their allegiance to the King.
The latter, chiefly manufacturers, afraid of being undersold by those of
England in their own market, shouted openly, "Vive l'Empereur!" The
troops of the line remained silent and gloomy. "How will your soldiers
behave?" said Monsieur to the colonel of the 13th Dragoons. The colonel
referred him to the men themselves. They answered candidly, that they
would fight for Napoleon alone. Monsieur dismounted, and addressed the
soldiers individually. To one veteran, covered with scars, and decorated
with medals, the prince said, "A brave soldier like you, at least, will cry,
Vive le Roi!"—"You deceive yourself," answered the soldier. "No one here
will fight against his father—I will cry, Vive Napoleon!" The efforts of
Macdonald were equally vain. He endeavoured to move two battalions to
oppose the entry of Buonaparte's advanced guard. So soon as the troops
came in presence of each other, they broke their ranks, and mingled
together in the general cry of "Vive l'Empereur!" Macdonald would have
been made prisoner, but the forces whom he had just commanded would not
permit this consummation of revolt. Monsieur was obliged to escape from
Lyons, almost alone. The guard of honour formed by the citizens, to attend
the person of the second of the Bourbon family, offered their services to
Napoleon; but he refused them with contempt, while he sent a cross of
honour to a single dragoon, who had the loyalty and devotion to attend
Monsieur in his retreat.
Buonaparte, now master of the ancient capital of the Gauls, and at the head
of 7000 men, was acknowledged by Maçon, Chalons, Dijon, and almost all

Burgundy. Marseilles, on the contrary, and all Provence, declared against
the invader, and the former city set a price upon his head.
Napoleon found it necessary to halt at Lyons for the refreshment of his
forces; and, being joined by some of the civilians of his party, he needed
time also to organise his government and administration. Hitherto, the
addresses which he had published had been of a military character,
abounding with the Oriental imagery which Buonaparte regarded as
essential to eloquence, promising that victory should move at the charging
step, and that the eagle should fly with the national colours from steeple to
steeple, till she perched on the towers of Notre Dame. The present decrees
were of a different character, and related to the internal arrangement of his
projected administration.
Cambacérès was named his minister of justice;
DECREES— Fouché, that of police (a boon to the revolutionists;)
AUXERRE.
Davoust was made minister of war. Decrees upon
decrees issued forth, with a rapidity which showed how Buonaparte had
employed those studious hours at Elba, which he was supposed to have
dedicated to the composition of his Memoirs. They ran in the name of
Napoleon, by the grace of God, Emperor of the French, 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 displaced all officers belonging to the class of emigrants, and
introduced into the army by the King. The third suppressed the order of St.
Louis, the white flag and cockade, and other royal emblems, and restored
the three-coloured banner and the imperial symbols of Buonaparte'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,
and was so artfully worded as to represent great changes of property having
taken place in this manner. The fifth decree of Lyons suppressed the ancient
nobility and feudal titles, and formally confirmed proprietors of national
domains in their possessions. The sixth, declared sentence of banishment
against all emigrants not erased from the list previous 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 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 body of the 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 of the
Champ-de-Mai. This convocation, for which the inventor found a name in
the history of the ancient Franks, was to have two objects: First, to make
such alterations and reformations in the constitution of the empire as
circumstances should render advisable; secondly, to assist at the coronation
of the Empress and of the King of Rome.
We cannot pause to criticise these various enactments. In general, however,
it may be remarked, that they were admirably calculated to serve
Napoleon's cause. They flattered the army, and at the same time heated their
resentment against the emigrants, by insinuating that they had been
sacrificed by Louis to the interest of these his followers. They held out to
the Republicans a speedy prospect of confiscations, proscriptions, and
revolutions of government; while the Imperialists were gratified with a
view of ample funds for pensions, offices, and honorary decorations. To the
proprietors of national domains was promised security; to the Parisians, the
spectacle of the Champ-de-Mai; and to all France, peace and tranquillity,
since the arrival of the Empress and her son, so confidently asserted to be at
hand, must be considered as a pledge of the friendship of Austria. Russia
was also said to be friendly to Napoleon, and the conduct of Alexander
toward the members of Buonaparte's family, was boldly appealed to as
evidence of the fact. England, it was averred, befriended him, else how
could he have escaped from an isle surrounded by her naval force? Prussia,
therefore, alone, might be hostile and unappeased; but, unsupported by the
other belligerent powers, Prussia must remain passive, or would soon be
reduced to reason. The very pleasure in mortifying one, at least, of the late
victors of Paris, gave a zest and poignancy to the revolution, which the
concurrence of the other great states would, according to Buonaparte,
render easy and peaceful. Such news were carefully disseminated through
France by Napoleon's adherents. They preceded his march, and prepared the
minds of men to receive him as their destined master.

On the 13th, Buonaparte recommenced his journey, and, advancing through
Maçon, Chalons, and Dijon, he reached Auxerre on the 17th March. His
own mode of travelling rather resembled that of a prince, who, weary of the
fatigue of state, wishes to extricate himself, as much as possible, from its
trammels, than that of an adventurer coming at the head of an army of
insurgents, to snatch a crown from the head of the lawful monarch who
wore it. He travelled several hours in advance of his army, often without
any guard, or, at most, attended only by a few Polish lancers. The country
through which he journeyed was favourable to his pretensions. It had been
severely treated by the allies during the military manœuvres of the last
campaign, and the dislike of the suffering inhabitants extended itself to the
family who had mounted the throne by the influence of these strangers.
When, therefore, they saw the late Emperor among them alone, without
guards, inquiring, with his usual appearance of active interest, into the
extent of their losses, and making liberal promises to repair them, it is no
wonder that they should rather remember the battles he had fought in their
behalf against the foreigners, than think on the probability that his presence
among them might be the precursor of a second invasion.
The revolutionary fever preceded Buonaparte like an epidemic disorder.
The 14th regiment of lancers, quartered at Auxerre, trampled under foot the
white cockade at the first signal; the sixth regiment of lancers declared also
for Napoleon, and without waiting for orders, drove a few soldiers of the
household troops from Montereau, and secured that important post, which
commands the passage of the Seine.
The dismay of the royal government at the revolt of Lyons, was much
increased by false tidings which had been previously circulated, giving an
account of a pretended victory obtained by the Royalist party in front of that
town. The conspiracy was laid so deep, and extended so widely through
every branch of the government, that those concerned contrived to send this
false report to Paris in a demi-official form, by means of the telegraph. It
had the expected effect, first, in suspending the preparations of the loyal
party, and afterwards in deepening the anxiety which overwhelmed them,
when Monsieur, returning almost unattended, brought the news of his bad
success.

At this moment of all but desperation, Fouché offered
FOUCHÉ—NEY. his assistance to the almost defenceless King. It is
probable, that the more he reflected on the character
of his old master, Napoleon, the deeper became his conviction, that they
knew each other too well ever to resume an attitude of mutual confidence.
Nothing deterred, therefore, by the communications which he had opened
with the Imperialists, he now demanded a secret audience of the King. It
was refused, but his communications were received through the medium of
two confidential persons deputed by Louis. Fouché's language to them was
that of a bold empiric, to whom patients have recourse in a moment of
despair, and who confidently undertake the most utterly hopeless cases.
Like such, he exacted absolute reliance on his skill—the most scrupulous
attention to his injunctions—the most ample reward for his promised
services; and as such, too, he spoke with the utmost confidence in the
certainty of his remedy, whilst observing a vague yet studious mystery
about the ingredients of which it was composed, and the mode in which it
would operate. He required of Louis XVIII. that he should surrender all the
executive authority to the Duke of Orleans, and all the ministerial Offices to
himself and those whom he should appoint; which two conditions being
granted, he undertook to put a period to Buonaparte's expedition. The
Memoirs of this bold intriguer affirm, that he meant to assemble all that
remained of the revolutionary party, and oppose the doctrines of Liberty
and Equality to those of the glory of France, in the sense understood by
Buonaparte.[102] What were the means that such politicians, so united, had
to oppose to the army of France, Fouché has not informed us;[103] but it is
probable, that, to stop the advance of 10,000 armed men, against whom the
revolutionists could now scarce even array the mob of the suburbs, the ex-
minister of police must have meditated the short sharp remedy of
Napoleon's assassination, for accomplishing which, he, if any man, could
have found trusty agents.
The King having refused proposals, which went to preserve his sceptre by
taking it out of his hands, and by further unexplained means, the morality of
which was liable to just suspicion, Fouché saw himself obliged to carry his
intrigues to the service of his old master. He became, in consequence, so
much an object of suspicion to the Royalists, that an order was issued for
his arrest.[104] To the police agents, his own old dependents, who came to

execute the order, he objected against the informality of their warrant, and
stepping into his closet, as if to draw a protest, he descended by a secret
stair into his garden, of which he scaled the wall. His next neighbour, into
whose garden he escaped, was the Duchess de St. Leu; so that the fugitive
arrived, as if by a trick of the stage, in the very midst of a circle of chosen
Buonapartists, who received him with triumph, and considered the mode of
his coming among them as a full warrant for his fidelity.[105]
Louis XVIII. in his distress, had recourse to the assistance of another man
of the Revolution, who, without possessing the abilities of Fouché, was
perhaps, had he been disposed to do so, better qualified than he to have
served the King's cause. Maréchal Ney was called forth to take the
command of an army destined to attack Napoleon in the flank and rear as he
marched towards Paris, while the forces at Melun opposed him in front. He
had an audience of the King on the 9th of March, when he accepted his
appointment with expressions of the most devoted faith to the King, and
declared his resolution to bring Buonaparte to Paris like a wild beast in an
iron cage. The maréchal went to Besançon, where, on the 11th of March, he
learned that Buonaparte was in possession of Lyons. But he continued to
make preparations for resistance, and collected all the troops he could from
the adjoining garrisons. To those who objected to the bad disposition of the
soldiers, and remarked that he would have difficulty in inducing them to
fight, Ney answered determinedly, "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 first who hesitates to follow my example." To the minister at war
he wrote, that all were dazzled by the activity and rapid progress of the
invader; that Napoleon was favoured by the common people and the
soldiers; but that the officers and civil authorities were loyal, and he still
hoped "to see a fortunate close of this mad enterprise."
In these dispositions, Ney advanced to Lons-le-Saulnier. Here, on the night
betwixt the 13th and 14th March, he received a letter from Napoleon,
summoning him to join his standard, as "bravest of the brave," a name
which could not but awake a thousand remembrances. He had already
sounded both his officers and soldiers, and discovered their unalterable
determination to join Buonaparte. He therefore had it only in his choice to
retain his command by passing over to the Emperor, or else to return to the
King without executing any thing which might seem even an effort at

realizing his boast, and also without the army over which he had asserted
his possession of such influence.
Maréchal Ney was a man of mean birth, who, by the most desperate valour,
had risen to the highest ranks in the army. His early education had not
endowed him with a delicate sense of honour or a high feeling of principle,
and he had not learned either as he advanced in life. He appears to have
been a weak man, with more vanity than pride, and who, therefore, was
likely to feel the loss of power more than the loss of character. He
accordingly resolved upon adhering to Napoleon. Sensible of the
incongruity of changing his side so suddenly, he affected to be a deliberate
knave, rather than he would content himself with being viewed in his real
character, of a volatile, light-principled, and inconsiderate fool. He
pretended that the expedition of Napoleon had been long arranged between
himself and the other maréchals. But we are willing rather to suppose that
this was matter of mere invention, than to think that the protestations
poured out at the Tuileries, only five days before, were, on the part of this
unfortunate man, the effusions of premeditated treachery.
The maréchal now published an order of the day, declaring that the cause of
the Bourbons was lost for ever. It was received by the soldiers with rapture,
and Buonaparte's standard and colours were instantly displayed. Many of
the officers, however, remonstrated, and left their commands. One, before
he went away, 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 infringe his
word."
Ney was received by Napoleon with open arms.[106]
TREASON OF NEY— His defection did incalculable damage to the King's
MELUN.
cause, tending to show that the spirit of treason which
possessed the common soldiers, had ascended to and affected the officers of
the highest rank in the army.
The King, in the meanwhile, notwithstanding these unpromising
circumstances, used every exertion to induce his subjects to continue in
their allegiance. He attended in person the sitting of the Chamber of
Deputies, and was received with such enthusiastic marks of applause, that
one would have thought the most active exertions must have followed.

Louis next reviewed the national guards, about 25,000 men, who made a
similar display of loyalty. He also inspected the troops of the line, 6000 in
number, but his reception was equivocal. They placed their caps on their
bayonets in token of respect, but they raised no shout.
Some of those about Louis's person continued to believe that these men
were still attached to the King, or that at any rate, they ought to be sent to
the camp at Melun, which was the last remaining point upon which the
royal party could hope to make a stand.
As a last resource, Louis convoked a general council at the Tuileries on the
18th March. The generals present declared there could be no effectual
opposition offered to Buonaparte. The royalist nobles contradicted them,
and, after some expressions of violence had been uttered, much
misbecoming the royal presence, Louis was obliged to break up the
meeting, and prepare himself to abandon a capital, which the prevalence of
his enemies, and the disunion of his friends, left him no longer any chance
of defending.
Meantime, the two armies approached each other at Melun; that of the King
was commanded by the faithful Macdonald. On the 20th, his troops were
drawn up in three lines to receive the invaders, who were said to be
advancing from Fontainbleau. There was a long pause of suspense, of a
nature which seldom fails to render men more accessible to strong and
sudden emotion. The glades of the forest, and the acclivity which ascends to
it, were full in 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, the 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 farther obstruction existed betwixt Napoleon and the
capital, which he was once more—but for a brief space—to inhabit as a
sovereign.
Louis XVIII. had anticipated too surely the defection which took place, to
await the consequence of its actual arrival. The King departed from Paris,
escorted by his household, at one in the morning of the 20th March. Even at
that untimely hour, the palace was surrounded by the national guards, and
many citizens, who wept and entreated him to remain, offering to spend the
last drop of their blood for him. But Louis wisely declined accepting of
sacrifices, which could now have availed nothing. Escorted by his
household troops, he took the way to Lisle. Maréchal Macdonald, returning
from the fatal position of Melun, assumed the command of this small body,
which was indeed augmented by many volunteers, but such as considered
their zealous wishes, rather than their power of rendering assistance. The
King's condition was, however, pitied and respected, and he passed through
Abbeville, and other garrison towns, where the soldiers received him with
sullen respect; and though indicating that they intended to join his rival,
would neither violate his person nor insult his misfortunes. At Lisle he had
hoped to make a stand, but Maréchal Mortier, insisting upon the dissatisfied
and tumultuary state of the garrison, urged him to proceed, for the safety of
his life; and, compelled to a second exile, he departed to Ostend, and from
thence to Ghent, where he established his exiled court. Maréchal
Macdonald took leave of his Majesty on the frontiers, conscious that by
emigrating he must lose every prospect of serving in future either France or
her monarch. The household troops, about two hundred excepted, were also
disbanded on the frontiers. They had been harassed in their march thither by
some light horse, and in their attempt to regain their homes in a state of
dispersion, some were slain, and almost all were plundered and insulted.
In the meanwhile, the Revolution took full effect at Paris. Lavalette, one of
Buonaparte's most decided adherents, hastened from a place of concealment
to assume the management of the post-office in the name of Napoleon, an
office which he had enjoyed during his former reign. He was thus enabled
to intercept the royal proclamations, and to announce to every department
officially the restoration of the Emperor. Excelsman, the oath of fealty to

the king, à toutes épreuves, scarce dry upon his lips, took down the white
flag, which floated on the Tuileries, and replaced the three-coloured banner.
It was late in the evening ere Napoleon arrived in the
RE-ENTERS PARIS. same open carriage, which he had used since his
landing. There was a singular contrast betwixt his
entry and the departure of the King. The latter was accompanied by the
sobs, tears, and kind wishes of those citizens who desired peace and
tranquillity, by the wailing of the defenceless, and the anxious fears of the
wise and prudent. The former entered amid the shouts of armed columns,
who, existing by war and desolation, welcomed with military acclamations
the chief who was to restore them to their element. The inhabitants of the
suburbs cheered in expectation of employment and gratuities, or by
instigation of their ringleaders, who were chiefly under the management of
the police, and well prepared for the event. But among the immense crowds
of the citizens of Paris, who turned out to see this extraordinary spectacle,
few or none joined in the gratulation. The soldiers of the guard resented
their silence, commanded the spectators to shout, struck with the flat of
their swords, and pointed their pistols at the multitude, but could not, even
by these military means, extort the expected cry of Liberty and Napoleon,
though making it plain by their demeanour, that the last, if not the first, was
returned to the Parisians. In the court of the Carousel, and before the
Tuileries, all the adherents of the old Imperial government, and those who,
having deserted Napoleon, were eager to expiate their fault, by now being
first to acknowledge him, were assembled to give voice to their welcome,
which atoned in some degree for the silence of the streets. They crowded
around him so closely, that he was compelled to exclaim—"My friends, you
stifle me!" and his adjutants were obliged to support him in their arms up
the grand staircase, and thence into the royal apartments, where he received
the all-hail of the principal devisers and abettors of this singular
undertaking.
Never, in his bloodiest and most triumphant field of battle, had the terrible
ascendency of Napoleon's genius appeared half so predominant as during
his march, or rather his journey, from Cannes to Paris. He who left the same
coast disguised like a slave, and weeping like a woman, for fear of
assassination, reappeared in grandeur like that of the returning wave, which,
the farther it has retreated, is rolled back on the shore with the more terrific

and overwhelming violence. His looks seemed to possess the pretended
power of northern magicians, and blunted swords and spears. The Bravest
of the Brave, who came determined to oppose him as he would a wild beast,
recognised his superiority when confronted with him, and sunk again into
his satellite. Yet the lustre with which Napoleon shone was not that of a
planet duly moving in its regular sphere, but that of a comet, inspiring
forebodings of pestilence and death, and

"with fear of change,
Perplexing nations."

The result of his expedition was thus summed by one of the most eloquent
and best-informed British statesmen.[107]
"Was it," said the accomplished orator, "in the power of language to
describe the evil? Wars which had raged for twenty-five years throughout
Europe; which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, and
from Naples to Copenhagen; which had wasted the means of human
enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social improvement; which
threatened to diffuse among the European nations the dissolute and
ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery—at length by one of those
vicissitudes which bid defiance to the foresight of man, had been brought to
a close, upon the whole happy beyond all reasonable expectation, with no
violent shock to national independence, with some tolerable compromise
between the opinions of the age and the reverence due to ancient
institutions; with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the legitimate
interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of men, and, above all,
without those retaliations against nations or parties which beget new
convulsions, often as horrible as those which they close, and perpetuate
revenge and hatred and blood from age to age. Europe seemed to breathe
after her sufferings. In the midst of this fair prospect, and of these
consolatory hopes, Napoleon Buonaparte escaped from Elba; three small
vessels reached the coast of Provence; their hopes are instantly dispelled;
the work of our toil and fortitude is undone; the blood of Europe is spilt in
vain—

"Ibi omnis effusus labor!"

CHAPTER LXXXV.
Various attempts to organise a defence for the Bourbons fail—
Buonaparte, again reinstated on the throne of France, is
desirous of continuing the peace with the Allies—but no answer
is returned to his letters—Treaty of Vienna—Grievances alleged
by Buonaparte in justification of the step he had taken—Debates
in the British House of Commons, on the renewal of War—
Murat occupies Rome with 50,000 men—his Proclamation
summoning all Italians to arms—He advances against the
Austrians—is repulsed at Occhio-Bello—defeated at Tolentino—
flies to Naples, and thence, in disguise, to France—where
Napoleon refuses to receive him.
When Paris was lost, the bow of the Bourbons was effectually broken; and
the attempts of individuals of the family to make a stand against the evil
hour, was honourable indeed to their own gallantry, but of no advantage to
their cause.
The Duke d'Angoulême placed himself at the head of a considerable body
of troops, raised by the town of Marseilles, and the royalists of Provence.
But being surrounded by General Gilly, he was obliged to lay down his
arms, on condition of amnesty to his followers, and free permission to
himself to leave France. General Grouchy refused to confirm this
capitulation, till Buonaparte's pleasure was known. But the restored
Emperor, not displeased, it may be, to make a display of generosity,
permitted the Duke d'Angoulême to depart by sea from Cette, only
requiring his interference with Louis XVIII. for returning the crown jewels
which the King had removed with him to Ghent.[108]
The Duke of Bourbon had retired to La Vendée to raise the warlike royalists
of that faithful province. But it had been previously occupied by soldiers
attached to Buonaparte, so judiciously posted as to render an insurrection
impossible; and the duke found himself obliged to escape by sea from
Nantes.

The Duchess d'Angoulême, the only remaining
DUCHESS daughter of Louis XVI., whose childhood and youth
D'ANGOULÊME.
had suffered with patient firmness such storms of
adversity, showed on this trying occasion that she had the active as well as
passive courage becoming the descendant of a long line of princes. She
threw herself into Bourdeaux, where the loyalty of Count Lynch, the mayor,
and of the citizens in general, promised her determined aid, and the princess
herself stood forth amongst them, like one of those heroic women of the age
of chivalry, whose looks and words were able in moments of peril to give
double edge to men's swords, and double constancy to their hearts. But
unhappily there was a considerable garrison of troops of the line in
Bourdeaux, who had caught the general spirit of revolt. General Clausel
also advanced on the city with a force of the same description. The duchess
made a last effort, assembled around her the officers, and laid their duty
before them in the most touching and pathetic manner. But when she saw
their coldness, and heard their faltering excuses, she turned from them in
disdain:—"You fear," she said—"I pity you, and release you from your
oaths." She embarked on board an English frigate, and Bourdeaux opened
its gates to Clausel, and declared for the Emperor. Thus, notwithstanding
the return of Napoleon was far from being acceptable to the French
universally, or even generally, all open opposition to his government
ceased, and he was acknowledged as Emperor within about twenty days
after he landed on the beach at Cannes, with a thousand followers.[109]
But though he was thus replaced on the throne, Napoleon's seat was by no
means secure, unless he could prevail upon the confederated sovereigns of
Europe to acknowledge him in the capacity of which their united arms had
so lately deprived him. It is true, he had indirectly promised war to his
soldiers, by stigmatizing the cessions made by the Bourbons of what he
called the territory of France. It is true, also, that then, and till his death's-
day, he continued to entertain the rooted idea that Belgium, a possession
which France had acquired within twenty years, was an integral portion of
that kingdom. It is true, Antwerp and the five hundred sail of the line which
were to be built there, continued through his whole life to be the very
Delilah of his imagination. The cause of future war was, therefore, blazing
in his bosom. But yet at present he felt it necessary for his interest to assure
the people of France, that his return to the empire would not disturb the

treaty of Paris, though it had given the Low Countries to Holland. He
spared no device to spread reports of a pacific tendency.
From the commencement of his march, it was affirmed by his creatures that
he brought with him a treaty concluded with all the powers of Europe for
twenty years. It was repeatedly averred, that Maria Louisa and her son were
on the point of arriving in France, dismissed by her father as a pledge of
reconciliation; and when she did not appear, it was insinuated that she was
detained by the Emperor Francis, as a pledge that Buonaparte should
observe his promise of giving the French a free constitution. To such bare-
faced assertions he was reduced, rather than admit that his return was to be
the signal for renewing hostilities with all Europe.
Meantime, Napoleon hesitated not to offer to the allied ministers his
willingness to acquiesce in the treaty of Paris; although, according to his
uniform reasoning, it involved the humiliation and disgrace of France. He
sent a letter to each of the sovereigns, expressing his desire to make peace
on the same principles which had been arranged with the Bourbons. To
these letters no answers were returned. The decision of the allies had
already been adopted.
The Congress at Vienna happened fortunately not to
DECLARATION AND be dissolved, when the news of Buonaparte's escape
TREATY OF VIENNA.
from Elba was laid before them by Talleyrand, on the
11th March. The astonishing, as well as the sublime, approaches to the
ludicrous, and it is a curious physiological fact, that the first news of an
event which threatened to abolish all their labours, seemed so like a trick in
a pantomime, that laughter was the first emotion it excited from almost
every one. The merry mood did not last long; for the jest was neither a
sound nor safe one. It was necessary for the Congress, by an unequivocal
declaration, to express their sentiments, upon this extraordinary occasion.
This declaration appeared on the 13th March, and after giving an account of
the fact, bore the following denunciation:—
"By thus breaking the convention which had established him in
the island of Elba, Buonaparte destroys the only legal title on
which his existence depended; and, by appearing again in
France with projects of confusion and disorder, he has deprived

himself of the protection of the law, and has manifested to the
universe, that there can be neither peace nor truce with him.
"The powers consequently declare, that Napoleon Buonaparte
has placed himself without the pale of civil and social relations,
and that, as an enemy and disturber of the tranquillity of the
world, he has rendered himself liable to public vengeance. They
declare at the same time, that, firmly resolved to maintain entire
the treaty of Paris of the 30th of May, 1814, and the dispositions
sanctioned by that treaty, and those which they have resolved
on, or shall hereafter resolve on, to complete and to consolidate
it, they will employ all their means, and will unite all their
efforts, that the general peace, the object of the wishes of
Europe, and the constant purpose of their labours, may not again
be troubled; and to provide against every attempt which shall
threaten to replunge the world into the disorders of revolution."
[110]

This manifesto was instantly followed by a treaty betwixt Great Britain,
Austria, Prussia, and Russia, renewing and confirming the league entered
into at Chaumont. The first article declared the resolution of the high
contracting parties to maintain and enforce the treaty of Paris, which
excluded Buonaparte from the throne of France, and to enforce the decree
of outlawry issued against him as above mentioned. 2. Each of the
contracting parties agreed to keep constantly in the field an army of 150,000
men complete, with the due proportion of cavalry and artillery. 3. They
agreed not to lay down their arms but by common consent, until either the
purpose of the war should have been attained, or Buonaparte should be
rendered incapable of disturbing the peace of Europe. After other
subordinate articles, the 7th provided, that the other powers of Europe
should be invited to accede to the treaty; and the 8th, that the King of
France should be particularly called upon to become a party to it. A separate
article provided, that the King of Great Britain should have the option of
furnishing his contingent in men, or of paying, instead, at the rate of L.30
sterling per annum for each cavalry soldier, and L.20 per annum for each
infantry soldier, which should be wanting to make up his complement. To
this treaty a declaration was subjoined, when it was ratified by the Prince
Regent, referring to the eighth article of the treaty, and declaring that it

should not be understood as binding his Britannic Majesty to prosecute the
war, with the view of forcibly imposing on France any particular
government. The other contracting powers agreed to accept of the accession
of his Royal Highness, under this explanation and limitation.[111]
The treaty of Vienna may be considered in a double point of view, first,
upon principle, and, secondly, as to its mode of expression; and it was
commented upon in both respects in the British House of Commons. The
expediency of the war was denied by several of the Opposition members,
on account of the exhausted state of Great Britain, but they generally
admitted that the escape of Buonaparte gave a just cause for the declaration
of hostilities. The great statesman and jurisconsult, whom we have already
quoted, delivered an opinion for himself, and those with whom he acted,
couched in the most positive terms.
"Some insinuations," said Sir James Mackintosh, "had been
thrown out, of differences of opinion on his side of the house,
respecting the evils of this escape. He utterly denied them. All
agreed in lamenting the occurrence which rendered the renewal
of war so probable, not to say certain. All his friends, with
whose sentiments he was acquainted, were of opinion, that, in
the theory of public law, the assumption of power by Napoleon
had given to the allies a just cause of war against France. It was
perfectly obvious, that the abdication of Napoleon, and his
perpetual renunciation of the supreme authority, was a
condition, and the most important condition, on which the allies
had granted peace to France. The convention of Fontainbleau,
and the treaty of Paris, were equally parts of the great compact
which re-established friendship between France and Europe. In
consideration of the safer and more inoffensive state of France
when separated from her terrible leader, confederated Europe
had granted moderate and favourable terms of peace. As soon as
France had violated this important condition, by again
submitting to the authority of Napoleon, the allies were
doubtless released from their part of the compact, and re-entered
into their belligerent rights."[112]

The provocations pleaded by Buonaparte (which
ALLEGED seem to have been entirely fanciful, so far as respects
GRIEVANCES.
any design on his freedom,) were, first, the separation
from his family. But this was a question with Austria exclusively; for what
power was to compel the Emperor Francis to restore his daughter, after the
fate of war had flung her again under his paternal protection? Napoleon's
feelings in his situation were extremely natural, but those of the Emperor
cannot be blamed, who considered his daughter's honour and happiness as
interested in separating her from a man, who was capable of attempting to
redeem his broken fortunes by the most desperate means. Much would
depend upon the inclination of the illustrious person herself; but even if
some degree of paternal restraint had been exerted, could Napoleon really
feel himself justified in renewing a sort of Trojan war with all the powers in
Europe, in order to recover his wife, or think, because he was separated
from her society by a flinty-hearted father, that he was therefore warranted
in invading and subduing the kingdom of France? The second article of
provocation, and we admit it as a just one, was, that Napoleon was left to
necessities to which he ought not to have been subjected, by France
withholding his pension till the year should elapse. This was a ground of
complaint, and a deep one; but against whom? Surely not against the allies,
unless Buonaparte had called upon them to make good their treaty; and had
stated, that France had failed to make good those obligations, for which he
had their guarantee. England, who was only an accessory to the treaty, had
nevertheless already interfered in Buonaparte's behalf, and there can be no
doubt that redress would have been granted by the contracting parties, who
could not in decency avoid enforcing a treaty, which had been of their own
forming. That this guarantee gave Napoleon a right to appeal and to
complain, cannot be denied; but that it gave him a right to proceed by
violence, without any expostulation previously made, is contrary to all ideas
of the law of nations, which enacts, that no aggression can constitute a
legitimate cause of war, until redress has been refused. This, however, is all
mere legal argument. Buonaparte did not invade France, because she was
deficient in paying his pension. He invaded her, because he saw a strong
prospect of regaining the throne; nor do we believe that millions of gold
would have prevailed on him to forego the opportunity.

His more available ground of defence, however, was, that he was recalled
by the general voice of the nation of France; but the whole facts of the case
contradicted this statement. His league with the Revolutionists was made
reluctantly on their part, nor did that party form any very considerable
portion of the nation. "His election," according to Grattan, "was a military
election; and when the army disposed of the civil government, it was the
march of a military chief over a conquered nation. The nation did not rise to
assist Louis, or resist Buonaparte, because the nation could not rise against
the army. The mind of France, as well as her constitution, had completely
lost, for the present, the power of resistance. They passively yielded to
superior force."[113]
In short, the opinion of the House of Commons was so unanimous on the
disastrous consequences of Napoleon's quitting Elba, that the minority
brought charges against Ministers for not having provided more effectual
means to prevent his escape. To these charges it was replied, that Britain
was not his keeper; that it was impossible to maintain a line of blockade
around Elba; and if it had been otherwise, that Britain had no right to
interfere with Buonaparte's motions, so far as concerned short expeditions
unconnected with the purpose of escape; although it was avowed, that if a
British vessel had detected him in the act of going to France with an armed
force, for the purpose of invasion, the right of stopping his progress would
have been exercised at every hazard. Still it was urged, they had no title
either to establish a police upon the island, the object of which should be to
watch its acknowledged Emperor, or to maintain a naval force around it, to
apprehend him in case he should attempt an escape. Both would have been
in direct contradiction of the treaty of Fontainbleau, to which Britain had
acceded, though she was not of the contracting parties.[114]
The style of the declaration of the allies was more generally censured in the
British Parliament than its warlike tone. It was contended that, by declaring
Napoleon an outlaw, it invoked against him the daggers of individuals, as
well as the sword of justice. This charge of encouraging assassination was
warmly repelled by the supporters of Ministry.[115] The purpose of the
proclamation, it was said, was merely to point out Napoleon to the French
nation, as a person who had forfeited his civil rights, by the act of resuming,
contrary to treaty, a position in which, from his temper, habits, and talents,
he must again become an object of suspicion and terror to all Europe. His

inflexible resolution, his unbounded ambition, his own genius, his power
over the mind of others—those great military talents, in short, which, so
valuable in war, are in peace so dangerous, had afforded reasons for making
the peace of Paris, by which Napoleon was personally excluded from the
throne. When Napoleon broke that peace, solemnly concluded with Europe,
he forfeited his political rights, and in that view alone the outlawry was to
be construed. In consequence of these resolutions, adopted at Vienna and
London, all Europe rang with the preparations for war; and the number of
troops with which the allies proposed to invade France were rated at no less
than one million and eleven thousand soldiers.[116]
Before proceeding farther, it is requisite to say a few words on the subject
of Murat. He had been for some time agitated by fears naturally arising
from the attack made upon his government at the Congress by Talleyrand.
The effect had not, it was true, induced the other powers to decide against
him; but he seems to have been conscious that the reports of General
Nugent and Lord William Bentinck concurred in representing him as having
acted in the last campaign rather the part of a trimmer betwixt two parties,
than that of a confederate, sincere, as he professed to be, in favour of the
allies. Perhaps his conscience acknowledged this truth, for it certainly
seems as if Eugene might have been more hardly pressed, had Murat been
disposed to act with energy in behalf of the allies. He felt, therefore, that the
throne of Tancred tottered under him, and rashly determined that it was
better to brave a danger than to allow time to see whether it might not pass
away. Murat had held intercourse with the isle of Elba, and cannot but have
known Buonaparte's purpose when he left it; but he ought, at the same time,
to have considered, that if his brother-in-law met with any success, his own
alliance would become essential to Austria, who had such anxiety to retain
the north of Italy, and must have been purchased on his own terms.
Instead, however, of waiting for an opportunity of
MURAT. profiting by Napoleon's attempt, which could not
have failed to arrive, Murat resolved to throw himself
into the fray, and carve for himself. He placed himself at the head of an
army of 50,000 men, and without explaining his intentions, occupied Rome,
the Pope and cardinals flying before him; threatened the whole line of the
Po, which the Austrian force was inadequate to maintain; and, on 31st of
March, addressed a proclamation to all Italians, summoning them to rise in

arms for the liberation of their country.[117] It seemed now clear, that the
purpose of this son of a pastry-cook amounted to nothing else than the
formation of Italy into one state, and the placing himself on the throne of
the Cæsars. The proclamation was signed Joachim Napoleon, which last
name, formerly laid aside, he reassumed at this critical period. The appeal
to the Italians was in vain. The feuds among the petty states are so
numerous, their pretensions so irreconcilable, and their weakness has made
them so often the prey of successive conquerors, that they found little
inviting in the proposal of union, little arousing in the sound of
independence. The proclamation, therefore, had small effect, except upon
some of the students at Bologna. Murat marched northward, however, and
being much superior in numbers, defeated the Austrian general Bianchi, and
occupied Modena and Florence.
Murat's attitude was now an alarming one to Europe. If he should press
forward into Lombardy, he might co-operate with Buonaparte, now restored
to his crown, and would probably be reinforced by thousands of the
veterans of the Viceroy Eugene's army. Austria, therefore, became desirous
of peace, and offered to guarantee to him the possession of the kingdom of
Naples, with an addition he had long coveted, the marches, namely, of the
Roman See. Britain, at the same time, intimated, that having made truce
with Joachim at the instance of Austria, it was to last no longer than his
good intelligence with her ally. Murat refused the conditions of the one
power, and neglected the remonstrances of the other. "It was too late," he
said; "Italy deserves freedom, and she shall be free." Here closed all hopes
of peace; Austria declared war against Murat, and expedited the
reinforcements sent into Italy; and Britain prepared a descent upon his
Neapolitan dominions, where Ferdinand still continued to have many
adherents.[118]
Murat's character as a tactician was far inferior to that which he deservedly
bore as a soldier in the field of battle, and he was still a worse politician
than a general. A repulse sustained in an attempt to pass the Po near Occhio-
bello, seems to have disconcerted the plan of his whole campaign, nor did
he find himself able to renew the negotiations which he had rashly broken
off. He seemed to acknowledge, by his military movements, that he had
attempted a scheme far beyond his strength and understanding. He retreated
upon his whole line, abandoning Parma, Reggio, Modena, Florence, and all

Tuscany, by which last movement he put the Austrians in possession of the
best and shortest road to Rome. In consequence, he was pressed on his
retreat in front and rear, and compelled to give battle near Tolentino. It was
sustained for two days, (2d and 3d of May,) but the Neapolitans could not
be brought into close action with the iron-nerved Austrians. It was in vain
that Murat placed field-pieces in the rear of his attacking columns, with
orders to fire grape on them should they retreat; in vain that he himself set
the example of the most desperate courage. The Neapolitan army fled in
dispersion and discomfiture. Their guns, ammunition, treasure, and
baggage, became the spoil of the Austrians; and in traversing the mountains
of Abruzzo, Murat lost half his army without stroke of sword.
The defeated prince was pursued into his Neapolitan dominions, where he
learned that the Calabrians were in insurrection, and that an English fleet,
escorting an invading army from Sicily, had appeared in the Bay of Naples.
His army, reduced to a handful by repeated skirmishes, in which he had
behaved with such temerity as to make his followers think he desired death,
was directed to throw itself into Capua. He himself, who had left Naples
splendidly apparelled, according to his custom, and at the head of a gallant
army, now entered its gates, attended only by four lancers, alighted at the
palace, and appeared before the Queen, pale, haggard, dishevelled, with all
the signs of extreme fatigue and dejection. His salutation was in the
affecting words, "Madam, I have not been able to find death." He presently
found, that remaining at Naples, which was about to fall into other hands,
would compromise his liberty, perhaps his life. He took leave of his Queen,
whom circumstances were about to deprive of that title, cut off his hair, and
disguising himself in a grey frock, escaped to the little island of Ischia, and
reached on 25th May, Cannes, which had received Napoleon a few weeks
before. His wife, immediately afterwards, alarmed by the tendency of the
Neapolitan mob to insurrection, surrendered herself to Commodore
Campbell of the Tremendous, and was received on board his vessel.[119]
A courier announced Murat's arrival in France to Buonaparte, who, instead
of sending consolation to his unhappy relative, is said to have asked with
bitter scorn, "Whether Naples and France had made peace since the war of
1814!" The answer seems to imply, that although the attempts of Joachim
and Napoleon coincided in time, and in other circumstances, so punctually
as to make it evident they had been undertaken in concert, yet that there had

been no precise correspondence, far less any formal treaty, betwixt the
adventurous brothers. Indeed, Napoleon at all times positively denied that
he had the least accession to Murat's wildly-concerted project (levée des
boucliers,) and affirmed that it was essentially injurious to him. Napoleon's
account was, that when he retired to Elba, he took farewell of Murat by
letter, forgiving all that had passed between them, and recommending to his
brother-in-law to keep on good terms with the Austrians, and only to check
them if he saw them likely to advance on France. He offered also to
guarantee his kingdom. Murat returned an affectionate answer, engaging to
prove himself, in his conduct towards Napoleon, more an object of pity than
resentment, declining any other guarantee than the word of the Emperor,
and declaring that the attachment of his future life was to make amends for
the past defection. "But it was Murat's fate to ruin us every way," continued
Napoleon; "once by declaring against us, and again by unadvisedly taking
our part."[120] He encountered Austria without sufficient means, and being
ruined, left her without any counterbalancing power in Italy. From that time
it became impossible for Napoleon to negotiate with her.
Receiving the Emperor's account as correct, and allowing that the brothers-
in-law played each his own part, it was not to be supposed that they acted
entirely without a mutual understanding. Each, indeed, was willing to rest
on his own fortunes, well knowing that his claim to the other's assistance
would depend chiefly upon his success, and unwilling, besides, to
relinquish the privilege of making peace, should it be necessary, at the
expense of disowning the kindred enterprise of his brother-in-law.
Notwithstanding the splendid details which the Moniteur gave of Murat's
undertaking, while it yet seemed to promise success, it is certain that
Buonaparte endeavoured to propitiate Austria, by the offer of abandoning
Murat; and that Murat, could his offers have obtained a hearing after the
repulse of Occhio-bello, was ready once more to have deserted Napoleon,
whose name he had so lately reassumed. Involved in this maze of selfish
policy, Murat had now the mortification to find himself contemned by
Napoleon, when he might, indeed, be a burden, but could afford him no aid.
Had he arrived at Milan as a victor, and extended a friendly hand across the
Alps, how different would have been his reception! But Buonaparte refused
to see him in his distress, or to permit him to come to Paris, satisfied that
the sight of his misery would be a bitter contradiction to the fables which

the French journals had, for some time, published of his success. Fouché
sent him a message, much like that which enjoined the dishonoured
ambassadors of Solomon to tarry at Jericho till their beards grew. It
recommended to Murat to remain in seclusion, till the recollection of his
disgrace should be abated by newer objects of general interest.
Buonaparte had sometimes entertained thoughts of bringing Murat to the
army, but was afraid of shocking the French soldiers, who would have felt
disgust and horror at seeing the man who had betrayed France. "I did not,"
he said to his followers at St. Helena, "think I could carry him through, and
yet he might have gained us the victory; for there were moments during the
battle (of Waterloo) when to have forced two or three of the English squares
might have insured it, and Murat was just the man for the work. In leading a
charge of cavalry, never was there an officer more determined, more brave,
and more brilliant."[121]
Murat was thus prohibited to come to the court of the Tuileries, where his
defection might have been forgiven, but his defeat was an inexpiable
offence. He remained in obscurity near Toulon, till his fate called him
elsewhere, after the decisive battle of Waterloo.[122] From this episode, for
such, however important, it is in the present history, we return to France and
our immediate subject.

CHAPTER LXXXVI.
Buonaparte's attempts to conciliate Britain—Plot to carry off
Maria Louisa fails—State of feeling in France—The Army—The
Jacobins—The Constitutionalists—Fouché and Siêyes made
Peers—Freedom of the Press granted, and outraged—
Independent conduct of Comté, editor of Le Censeur—
Disaffections among the lower orders—Part of these assemble
before the Tuileries, and applaud the Emperor—Festival of the
Federates—New Constitution—It is received with dissatisfaction
—Meeting of the Champ de Mai to ratify it—Buonaparte's
Address to the Chambers of Peers and Deputies—The spirit of
Jacobinism predominant in the latter.
While Murat was struggling and sinking under his
MARIA LOUISA. evil fate, Buonaparte was actively preparing for the
approaching contest. His first attempt, as we have
already seen, was to conciliate the allied powers. To satisfy Great Britain,
he passed an act abolishing the slave trade, and made some regulations
concerning national education, in which he spoke highly of the systems of
Bell and Lancaster. These measures were favourably construed by some of
our legislators; and that they were so, is a complete proof that Buonaparte
understood the temper of our nation. To suppose that, during his ten months
of retirement, his mind was actively employed upon the miseries of the
negroes, or the deplorable state of ignorance to which his own measures,
and the want of early instruction, had reduced the youth of France, would
argue but little acquaintance with his habits of ambition. To believe, on the
contrary, that he would, at his first arrival in France, make any apparent
sacrifices which might attract the good-will of his powerful and dangerous
neighbours, is more consonant with his schemes, his interest, and his
character. The path which he chose to gain the esteem of Britain, was by no
means injudicious. The abolition of negro slavery, and the instruction of the
poor, have (to the honour of our legislature) been frequent and anxious
subjects of deliberation in the House of Commons; and to mankind,
whether individually or collectively, no species of flattery is more pleasing

than that of assent and imitation. It is not a little to the credit of our country,
that the most avowed enemy of Britain strove to cultivate our good opinion,
not by any offers of national advantage but by appearing to concur in
general measures of benevolence, and attention to the benefit of society.
Yet, upon the whole, the character of Napoleon was too generally
understood, and the purpose of his apparent approximation to British
sentiments, too obviously affected, for serving to make any general or
serious impression in his favour.
With Austria, Napoleon acted differently. He was aware that no impression
could be made on the Emperor Francis, or his minister Metternich, and that
it had become impossible, with their consent, that he should fulfil his
promise of presenting his wife and son to the people on the Champ de Mai.
Stratagem remained the only resource; and some Frenchmen at Vienna,
with those in Maria Louisa's train, formed a scheme of carrying off the
Empress of France and her child. The plot was discovered and prevented,
and the most public steps were immediately taken, to show that Austria
considered all ties with Buonaparte as dissolved for ever. Maria Louisa, by
her father's commands, laid aside the arms and liveries of her husband,
hitherto displayed by her attendants and carriages, and assumed those of the
house of Austria. This decisive event put an end to every hope so long
cherished by Napoleon, that he might find some means of regaining the
friendship of his father-in-law.
Nor did the other powers in Europe show themselves more accessible to his
advances. He was, therefore, reduced to his own partisans in the French
nation, and those won over from other parties, whom he might be able to
add to them.
The army had sufficiently shown themselves to be his own, upon grounds
which are easily appreciated. The host of public official persons, to whom
the name under which they exercised their offices was indifferent, provided
the salary continued to be attached to them, formed a large and influential
body. And although we, who have never, by such mutations of our political
system, been put to the trial of either abandoning our means of living, or
submitting to a change of government, may, on hearing quoted names of
respectability and celebrity who adopted the latter alternative, exclaim
against French versatility, a glance at Britain during the frequent changes of

the 17th century, may induce us to exchange the exclamation of poor
France! for that of poor human nature! The professors of Cromwell's days,
who piously termed themselves followers of Providence, because they
complied with every change that came uppermost; and the sect of time-
servers, including the honest patriot, who complained at the Restoration that
he had complied with seven forms of government during the year, but lost
his office by being too late of adhering to the last—would have made in
their day a list equally long, and as entertaining, as the celebrated
Dictionnaire de Girouettes. In matters dependent upon a sudden breeze of
sentiment, the mercurial Frenchman is more apt to tack about than the
phlegmatic and slowly-moved native of Britain; but when the steady trade-
wind of interest prevails for a long season, men in all nations and countries
show the same irresistible disposition to trim their sails by it; and in politics
as in morals, it will be well to pray against being led into temptation.
Besides those attached to him by mere interest, or
STATE OF PARTIES. from gratitude and respect for his talents, Napoleon
had now among his adherents, or rather allies, not as a
matter of choice, but of necessity, the Jacobin party, who had been obliged,
though unwillingly, to adopt him as the head of a government, which they
hoped to regenerate. To these were to be added a much larger and more
respectable body, who, far from encouraging his attempt, had testified
themselves anxious to oppose it to the last, but who, conceiving the cause of
the Bourbons entirely lost, were willing to adhere to Buonaparte, on
condition of obtaining a free constitution for France. Many of these acted,
of course, on mixed motives; but if we were asked to form a definition of
them, we should be induced to give the same, which, laying aside party
spirit, we should ascribe to a right English Whig, whom we conceive to be a
man of sense and moderation, a lover of laws and liberty, whose chief
regard to particular princes and families is founded on what he apprehends
to be the public good; and who differs from a sensible Tory so little, that
there is no great chance of their disputing upon any important constitutional
question, if it is fairly stated to both. Such, we believe, is the difference
betwixt rational Constitutionalists and Royalists in France; and,
undoubtedly, while all the feelings of the latter induced them to eye with
abhorrence the domination of a usurper, there must have been many of the
former, who, fearing danger to the independence of France from the

intervention of foreign powers, conceived, that by advocating the cause of
Napoleon, they were in some degree making a virtue of necessity, and
playing an indifferent game with as much skill as the cards they held would
permit. Many patriotic and sensible men, who had retained a regard for
liberty during all the governments and all the anarchies which had subsisted
for twenty years, endeavoured now to frame a system of government,
grounded upon something like freedom, upon the difficulties of Buonaparte.
Pressed as he was from abroad, and unsupported at home, save by the
soldiery, he would, they conceived, be thrown by necessity under the
protection of the nation, and obliged to recruit his adherents by complying
with public opinion, and adopting a free government. Under this persuasion
a great number of such characters, more or less shaded by attachment to a
moderate and limited monarchy, were prepared to acknowledge
Buonaparte's re-established authority, in so far as he should be found to
deserve it, by concessions on his part.
The conduct and arguments of another portion of the friends of the
constitution, rather resembled that which might have been adopted in
England by moderate and intelligent Tories. Such men were not prepared to
resign the cause of their lawful monarch, because fortune had for a time
declared against him. They were of opinion, that to make a constitution
permanent, the monarch must have his rights ascertained and vindicated, as
well as those of the people; and that if a usurper were to be acknowledged
upon any terms, however plausible, so soon as he had cut his way to
success by his sword, the nation would be exposed to perpetual revolutions.
Louis, these men might argue, had committed no crime whatever; he was
only placed in circumstances which made some persons suppose he might
possibly be tempted to meditate changes on the constitution, and on the
charter which confirmed it. There was meanness in deserting a good and
peaceable king at the command of a revolted army, and a discarded usurper.
They regretted that their prince must be replaced by foreign bayonets; yet it
was perhaps better that a moderate and peaceful government should be
restored even thus, than that the French nation should continue to suffer
under the despotic tyranny of their own soldiery. Those reasoners ridiculed
the idea of a free constitution, which was to be generated betwixt
Buonaparte, who, in his former reign, never allowed freedom of thought,
word, or action, to exist unrepressed, and the old Revolutionists, who,

during their period of power, could be satisfied with no degree of liberty
until they destroyed every compact which holds civil society together, and
made the country resemble one great bedlam, set on fire by the patients,
who remained dancing in the midst of the flames.
Such we conceive to have been the principles on which wise and moderate
men on either side acted during this distracted period. It is easy to suppose,
that their opinions must have been varied by many more and less minute
shades, arising from temperament, predilections, prejudices, passions, and
feelings of self-interest, and that they were on either side liable to be pushed
into exaggeration, or, according to the word which was formed to express
that exaggeration—into Ultraism.
Meantime, Napoleon did all that was possible to conciliate the people's
affection, and to show himself sincerely desirous of giving France the free
constitution which he had promised. He used the advice of Carnot, Siêyes,
and Fouché, and certainly profited by several of their lessons. He made it,
notwithstanding, a condition, that Carnot and Siêyes should accept each a
title and a seat in his House of Peers, to show that they were completely
reconciled to the Imperial government; and both the ancient republicans
condescended to exchange the bonnet rouge, for a coronet, which,
considering their former opinions, sate somewhat awkwardly upon their
brows.
But although the union of the Imperialists and popular party had been
cemented by mutual hatred of the Bourbons, and was still kept together by
apprehension of the King's adherents within, and his allies on the exterior,
seeds of discord were soon visible between the Emperor and the popular
leaders. While the former was eager once more to wield with full energy the
sceptre he had recovered, the latter were continually reminding him, that he
had only assumed it in a limited and restricted capacity, as the head of a free
government, exercising, indeed, its executive power, but under the restraint
of a popular constitution. Napoleon, in the frequent disputes which arose on
these important points, was obliged to concede to the demagogues the
principles which they insisted upon. But then, for the safety of the state,
involved in foreign and domestic dangers, he contended it was necessary to
invest the chief magistrate with a vigour beyond the law, a dictatorial
authority, temporary in its duration, but nearly absolute in its extent, as had

been the manner in the free states of antiquity, when the republic was in
imminent danger. Carnot and Fouché, on the other hand, considered, that
although it seemed natural, and might be easy, to confer such power at the
present moment, the resumption of it by the nation, when it was once vested
in the hands of Buonaparte, would be a hopeless experiment. The Emperor,
therefore, and his ministers, proceeded to their mutual tasks with no mutual
confidence; but, on the contrary, with jealousy, thinly veiled by an
affectation of deference on the side of Buonaparte, and respect on that of his
counsellors.
The very first sacrifice which the Emperor gave to
LIBERTY OF THE freedom proved an inconvenient one to his
PRESS.
government. This was nothing less than the freedom
of the press. It is true, that the influence of his minister of police managed
by indirect means to get possession of most of the journals; so that of sixty
writers, employed generally, if not constantly, in periodical composition,
five only were now found friendly to the royal cause. The other pens, which
a few days before described Napoleon as a species of Ogre, who had
devoured the youth of France, now wrote him down a hero and a liberator.
Still, when the liberty of the press was once established, it was soon found
impossible to prevent it from asserting its right of utterance; and there were
found authors to advocate the cause of the Bourbons, from principle, from
caprice, from the love of contradiction.
Napoleon, who always showed himself sensitively alive to the public
censure, established inspectors of the booksellers. The minister of police, a
friend of liberty, but, as Compte, the editor of Le Censeur, neatly observed,
only of liberty after the fashion of M. Fouché, used every art in his power to
prevent the contagion of freedom from spreading too widely. This M.
Compte was a loud, and probably a sincere advocate of freedom, and had
been a promoter of Buonaparte's return, as likely to advance the good cause.
Seeing the prevailing influence of the military, he published some severe
remarks on the undue weight the army assumed in public affairs, which, he
hesitated not to say, was bringing France to the condition of Rome, when
the empire was disposed of by the Prætorian guards. This stung to the quick
—the journal was seized by the police, and the minister endeavoured to
palliate the fact in the Moniteur, by saying, that, though seized, it had been
instantly restored. But Compte was not a man to be so silenced; he

published a contradiction of the official statement, and declared that his
journal had not been restored. He was summoned the next day before the
prefect, alternately threatened and wheedled, upbraided at one moment with
ungrateful resistance to the cause of the Emperor, and requested at the next
to think of something in which government might serve him. Steeled
against every proffer and entreaty, Compte only required to be permitted to
profit by the restored liberty of the press; nor could the worthy magistrate
make him rightly understand that when the Emperor gave all men liberty to
publish what pleased themselves, it was under the tacit condition that it
should also please the prefect and minister of police. Compte had the spirit
to publish the whole affair.
In the meanwhile, proclamations of Louis, forbidding the payment of taxes,
and announcing the arrival of 1,200,000 men under the walls of Paris,
covered these walls every night in spite of the police. A newspaper, called
the Lily, was also secretly, but generally circulated, which advocated the
royal cause. In the better classes of society, where Buonaparte was feared
and hated, lampoons, satires, pasquinades, glided from hand to hand,
turning his person, ministers, and government, into the most bitter ridicule.
Others attacked him with eloquent invective, and demanded what he had in
common with the word Liberty, which he now pretended to connect with
his reign. He was, they said, the sworn enemy of liberty, the assassin of the
Republic, the destroyer of French freedom, which had been so dearly
bought; the show of liberty which he held, was a trick of legerdemain,
executed under protection of his bayonets. Such was his notion of liberty
when it destroyed the national representation at St. Cloud—Such was the
freedom he gave when he established an Oriental despotism in the
enlightened kingdom at France. Such, when abolishing all free
communication of sentiments among citizens, and proscribing every liberal
and philosophical idea under the nickname of Ideology. "Can it be
forgotten," they continued, "that Heaven and Hell are not more
irreconcilable ideas, than Buonaparte and Liberty?—The very word
Freedom," they said, "was proscribed under his iron reign, and only first
gladdened the ears of Frenchmen after twelve years of humiliation and
despair, on the happy restoration of Louis XVIII.—Ah, miserable
impostor!" they exclaimed, "when would he have spoke of liberty, had not
the return of Louis familiarized us with freedom and peace." The spirit of

disaffection spread among certain classes of the lower ranks. The market-
women (dames des halles,) so formidable during the time of the Fronde,
and in the early years of the Revolution, for their opposition to the court,
were now royalists, and, of course, clamorous on the side of the party they
espoused. They invented, or some loyal rhymer composed for them, a song,
[123] the burden of which demanded back the King, as their father of Ghent.
They ridiculed, scolded, and mobbed the commissaries of police, who
endeavoured to stop these musical expressions of disaffection; surrounded
the chief of their number, danced around him, and chanted the obnoxious
burden, until Fouché being ashamed to belie the new doctrines of liberty of
thought, speech, and publication, his agents were instructed to leave these
Amazons undisturbed on account of their political sentiments.
While Buonaparte was unable to form an interest in the saloons, and found
that even the dames des halles were becoming discontented, he had upon
his side the militia of the suburbs; those columns of pikemen so famous in
the Revolution, whose furious and rude character added to the terrors, if not
to the dignity, of his reign. Let us not be accused of a wish to depreciate
honest industry, or hold up to contempt the miseries of poverty. It is not the
poverty, but the ignorance and the vice of the rabble of great cities, which
render them always disagreeable, and sometimes terrible. They are entitled
to protection from the laws, and kindness from the government; but he who
would use them as political engines, invokes the assistance of a blatant
beast with a thousand heads, well furnished with fangs to tear and throats to
roar, but devoid of tongues to speak reason, ears to hear it, eyes to see it, or
judgment to comprehend it.
For a little time after Buonaparte's return, crowds of artisans of the lowest
order assembled under the windows of the Tuileries, and demanded to see
the Emperor, whom, on his appearance, they greeted with shouts, as le
Grand Entrepreneur, or general employer of the class of artisans, in
language where the coarse phraseology of their rank was adorned with such
flowers of rhetoric as the times of terror had coined. Latterly, the numbers
of this assembly were maintained by a distribution of a few sous to the
shouters.
However disgusted with these degrading exhibitions, Buonaparte felt he
could not dispense with this species of force, and was compelled to institute

a day of procession, and a solemn festival, in favour of this description of
persons, who, from the mode in which they were enrolled, were termed
Federates.
On 14th May, the motley and ill-arranged ranks which
FESTIVAL OF THE assembled on this memorable occasion, exhibited, in
FEDERATES.
the eyes of the disgusted and frightened spectators, all
that is degraded by habitual vice, and hardened by stupidity and profligacy.
The portentous procession moved on along the Boulevards to the court of
the Tuileries, with shouts, in which the praises of the Emperor were
mingled with imprecations, and with the Revolutionary songs (long
silenced in Paris,)—the Marseilloise Hymn, the Carmagnole, and the Day
of Departure. The appearance of the men, the refuse of manufactories, of
work-houses, of jails; their rags, their filth, their drunkenness; their
ecstacies of blasphemous rage, and no less blasphemous joy, stamped them
with the character of the willing perpetrators of the worst horrors of the
Revolution. Buonaparte himself was judged, by close observers, to shrink
with abhorrence from the assembly he himself had convoked. His guards
were under arms, and the field artillery loaded, and turned on the Place de
Carrousel, filled with the motley crowd, who, from the contrasted colour of
the corn porters and charcoal-men, distinguished in the group, were
facetiously called his Grey and Black Mousquetaires. He hasted to dismiss
his hideous minions, with a sufficient distribution of praises and of liquor.
The national guards conceived themselves insulted on this occasion,
because compelled to give their attendance along with the Federates. The
troops of the line felt for the degraded character of the Emperor. The
haughty character of the French soldiers had kept them from fraternizing
with the rabble, even in the cause of Napoleon. They had been observed, on
the march from Cannes, to cease their cries of Vive l'Empereur, when, upon
entering any considerable town, the shout was taken up by the mob of the
place, and to suspend their acclamations, rather than mingle them with
those of the pequins, whom they despised. They now muttered to each
other, on seeing the court which Buonaparte seemed compelled to bestow
on these degraded artisans, that the conqueror of Marengo and Wagram had
sunk into the mere captain of a rabble. In short, the disgraceful character of
the alliance thus formed between Buonaparte and the lees of the people,
was of a nature incapable of being glossed over even in the flattering pages

of the Moniteur, which, amidst a flourishing description of this memorable
procession, was compelled to admit, that, in some places, the name of the
Emperor was incongruously mingled with expressions and songs, which
recalled an era unfortunately too famous.
Fretted by external dangers, and internal disturbances, and by the degrading
necessity of appearing every night before a mob, who familiarly hailed him
as Père le Violette, and, above all, galled by the suggestions of his
philosophical counsellors, who, among other innovations, wished him to lay
aside the style of Emperor for that of President, or Grand General of the
Republic, Napoleon, to rid himself at once of occupations offensive to his
haughty disposition, withdrew from the Tuileries to the more retired palace
of the Elysée Bourbon, and seemed on a sudden to become once more the
Emperor he had been before his abdication. Here he took into his own
hands, with the assistance of Benjamin Constant, and other statesmen, the
construction of a new constitution. Their system included all those checks
and regulations which are understood to form the essence of a free
government, and greatly resembled that granted by the Royal Charter.[124]
Nevertheless, it was extremely ill received by all parties, but especially by
those who expected from Napoleon a constitution more free than that which
they had dissolved by driving Louis XVIII. from the throne. There were
other grave exceptions stated against the scheme of government.
First, The same objection was stated against this Imperial grant which had
been urged with so much vehemence against the royal charter, namely, that
it was not a compact between the people and the sovereign, in which the
former called the latter to the throne under certain conditions, but a
recognition by the sovereign of the liberties of the people. The meeting of
the Champ de Mai had indeed been summoned, (as intimated in the decrees
from Lyons,) chiefly with the purpose of forming and adopting the new
constitution; but, according to the present system, they were only to have
the choice of adopting or rejecting that which Napoleon had prepared for
them. The disappointment was great among those philosophers who desired
"better bread than is made of wheat;" and could not enjoy liberty itself,
unless it emanated directly from the will of the people, and was sanctioned
by popular discussion. But Napoleon was determined that the convention of
the 10th May should have no other concern in the constitution, save to

accept it when offered. He would not intrust such an assembly with the
revision of the laws by which he was to govern.
Secondly, This new constitution, though presenting an
ADDITIONAL ACT. entirely new basis of government, was published
under the singular title of an "Additional[125] Act to
the Constitutions of the Emperor," and thereby constituted a sort of
appendix to a huge mass of unrepealed organic laws, many of them
inconsistent with the Additional Act in tenor and in spirit.
Those who had enjoyed the direct confidence of the Emperor while the
treaty was framing, endeavoured to persuade themselves that Napoleon
meant fairly by France, yet confessed they had found it difficult to enlighten
his ideas on the subject of a limited monarchy. They felt, that though the
Emperor might be induced to contract his authority, yet what remained in
his own hand would be wielded as arbitrarily as ever; and likewise that he
would never regard his ministers otherwise than as the immediate executors
of his pleasure, and responsible to himself alone. He would still continue to
transport his whole chancery at his stirrup, and transmit sealed orders to be
executed by a minister whom he had not consulted on their import.[126]
The Royalists triumphed on the publication of this Additional Act: "Was it
for this," they said, "you broke your oaths, and banished your monarch, to
get the same, or nearly similar laws, imposed on you by a Russian ukase or
a Turkish firman, which you heretofore enjoyed by charter, in the same
manner as your ancestors, called freemen by excellence, held their rights
from their limited sovereigns; and for this have you exchanged a peaceful
prince, whose very weakness was your security, for an ambitious warrior,
whose strength is your weakness? For this have you a second time gone to
war with all Europe—for the Additional Act and the Champ de Mai?"
The more determined Republicans, besides their particular objections to an
Upper House, which the Emperor could fill with his own minions, so as
effectually to control the representatives of the people, found the proposed
constitution utterly devoid of the salt which should savour it. There was no
acknowledgment of abstract principles; no dissertation concerning the
rights of government and the governed; no metaphysical discussions on the
origin of laws; and they were as much mortified and disappointed as the

zealot who hears a discourse on practical morality, when he expected a
sermon on the doctrinal points of theology. The unfortunate Additional Act
became the subject of attack and raillery on all sides; and was esteemed to
possess in so slight a degree the principles of durability, that a bookseller
being asked for a copy by a customer, replied, He did not deal in periodical
publications.[127]
Under these auspices the Champ de Mai was opened, and that it might be in
all respects incongruous, it was held on the 1st of June.[128] Deputies were
supposed to attend from all departments, not, as it had been latterly
arranged, to canvass the new constitution, but to swear to observe it; and
not to receive the Empress Maria Louisa and her son as the pledge of
twenty years peace, but to behold the fatal eagles, the signal of instant and
bloody war, distributed by the Emperor to the soldiers.
Napoleon and his brothers, whom he had once more collected around him,
figured, in quaint and fantastic robes, in the Champ de Mai; he as Emperor,
and they as princes of the blood—another subject of discontent to the
Republicans. The report of the votes was made, the electors swore to the
Additional Act, the drums rolled, the trumpets flourished, the cannon
thundered. But the acclamations were few and forced. The Emperor seemed
to view the scene as an empty pageant, until he was summoned to the
delivery of the eagles to the various new-raised regiments; and then, amid
the emblems of past, and, as might be hoped, the auguries of future
victories, he was himself again. But, on the whole, the Champ de Mai, was,
in the language of Paris, une pièce tombée, a condemned farce, which was
soon to be succeeded by a bloody tragedy.
The meeting of the Chambers was the next subject of
CHAMBER OF interest. The Chamber of Peers did not present, like
DEPUTIES.
the corresponding assembly in Britain, members of
long descent, ample fortunes, independence of principle, and education
corresponding to their rank of hereditary legislators. It consisted in the
princes of Napoleon's blood royal, to whom was added Lucien, long
estranged from his brother's councils, but who now, instigated by fraternal
affection, or tired of literary leisure, having presented his epic poem to a
thankless and regardless public, endeavoured to save his brother in his
present difficulties, as by his courage and presence of mind he had assisted

him during the revolution of Brumaire. There were about one hundred other
dignitaries, more than one half of whom were military men, including two
or three old Jacobins, such as Siêyes and Carnot, who had taken titles,
decorations, and rank, inconsistently with the tenor of their whole life. The
rest had been the creatures of Buonaparte's former reign, with some men of
letters devoted to his cause, and recently ennobled. This body, which could
have no other will than that of the Emperor, was regarded by the
Republicans and Constitutionalists with jealousy, and by the citizens with
contempt. Buonaparte himself expressed his opinion of it with something
approaching the latter sentiment. He had scarce formed his tools, before he
seems to have been convinced of their inefficacy, and of the little influence
which they could exercise on the public mind.[129]
It was very different with the second Chamber, in which were posted the
ancient men of the Revolution, and their newer associates, who looked
forward with hope that Buonaparte might yet assume the character of a
patriot sovereign, and by his military talents save France for her sake, not
for his own. The latter class comprehended many men, not only of talent,
but of virtue and public spirit; with too large a proportion, certainly, of
those who vainly desired a system of Republican liberty, which so many
years of bloody and fruitless experiment should have led even the most
extravagant to abandon, as inconsistent with the situation of the country,
and the genius of the French nation.
The disputes of the Chamber of Representatives with the executive
government commenced on June 4th, the first day of their sitting; and, like
those of their predecessors, upon points of idle etiquette. They chose
Lanjuinais for their president; a preferment which, alighting on one who
had been the defender of Louis XVI., the active and determined resister of
the power of Robespierre, and especially, the statesman who drew up the
list of crimes in consequence of which Napoleon's forfeiture had been
declared in 1814, could not be acceptable to the Emperor. Napoleon being
applied to for confirmation of the election, referred the committee for his
answer to the chamberlain, who, he stated, would deliver it the next day by
the page in waiting. The Chamber took fire, and Napoleon was compelled
to return an immediate though reluctant approval of their choice. The next
remarkable indication of the temper of the Chamber, was the extempore
effusion of a deputy named Sibuet, against the use of the epithets of duke,

count, and other titles of honour, in the Chamber of Representatives. Being
observed to read his invective from notes, which was contrary to the form
of the Chamber, Sibuet was silenced for the moment as out of order; but the
next day, or soon afterwards, having got his speech by heart, the Chamber
was under the necessity of listening to him, and his motion was got rid of
with difficulty.[130] On the same day, a list of the persons appointed to the
peerage was demanded from Carnot, in his capacity of minister, which he
declined to render till the session had commenced. This also occasioned
much uproar and violence, which the president could scarce silence by the
incessant peal of his bell. The oath to be taken by the deputies was next
severely scrutinized, and the Imperialists carried with difficulty a
resolution, that it should be taken to the Emperor and the constitution,
without mention of the nation.
The second meeting, on June 7th, was as tumultuous as the first. A motion
was made by Felix Lepelletier, that the Chamber should decree to Napoleon
the title of Saviour of his Country. This was resisted on the satisfactory
ground, that the country was not yet saved; and the Chamber passed to the
order of the day by acclamation.[131]
Notwithstanding these open intimations of the reviving spirit of Jacobinism,
or at least of opposition to the Imperial sway, Napoleon's situation obliged
him for the time to address the unruly spirits which he had called together,
with the confidence which it was said necromancers found it needful to use
towards the dangerous fiends whom they had evoked. His address to both
Chambers was sensible, manly, and becoming his situation. He surrendered,
in their presence, all his pretensions to absolute power, and professed
himself a friend to liberty; demanded the assistance of the Chambers in
matters of finance, intimated a desire of some regulations to check the
license of the press, and required from the representatives an example of
confidence, energy, and patriotism, to encounter the dangers to which the
country was exposed. The Peers replied in corresponding terms. Not so the
second Chamber; for, notwithstanding the utmost efforts of the Imperialists,
their reply bore a strong tincture of the sentiments of the opposite party. The
Chamber promised, indeed, their unanimous support in repelling the foreign
enemy; but they announced their intention to take under their consideration
the constitution, as recognised by the Additional Act, and to point out its
defects and imperfections, with the necessary remedies. They also added a

moderating hint, directed against the fervour of Napoleon's ambition. "The
nation," they said, "nourishes no plans of aggrandisement. Not even the will
of a victorious prince will lead them beyond the boundaries of self-
defence." In his rejoinder, Napoleon did not suffer these obnoxious hints to
escape his notice. He endeavoured to school this refractory assembly into
veneration for the constitution, which he declared to be "the pole-star in the
tempest;" and judiciously observed, "there was little cause to provide
against the intoxications of triumph, when they were about to contend for
existence. He stated the crisis to be imminent, and cautioned the Chamber
to avoid the conduct of the Roman people in the latter ages of the empire,
who could not resist the temptation of engaging furiously in abstract
discussions, even while the battering-rams of the common enemy were
shaking the gates of the capitol."
Thus parted Buonaparte and his Chambers of Legislature; he to try his
fortune in the field of battle, they to their task of altering and modifying the
laws, and inspiring a more popular spirit and air into the enactments he had
made, in hopes that the dictatorship of the Jacobins might be once again
substituted for the dictatorship of the Emperor. All men saw that the
Imperialists and Republicans only waited till the field was won, that they
might contend for the booty; and so little was the nation disposed to
sympathize with the active, turbulent, and bustling demagogues by whom
the contest was to be maintained against the Emperor, that almost all
predicted with great unconcern their probable expulsion, either by the
sword of Buonaparte or the Bourbons.

CHAPTER LXXXVII.
Preparations for War—Positions of the Allied Forces,
amounting in whole to One Million of Men—Buonaparte's Force
not more than 200,000—Conscription not ventured upon—
National Guard—their reluctance to serve—Many Provinces
hostile to Napoleon—Fouché's Report makes known the
Disaffection—Insurrection in La Vendée—quelled—Military
Resources—Plan of Campaign—Paris Placed in a Complete
State of Defence—Frontier Passes and Towns fortified—
Generals who accept Command under Napoleon—He
Announces his Purpose to measure himself with Wellington.
We are now to consider the preparations made for the
PREPARATIONS FOR invasion of France along the whole eastern frontier—
WAR.
the means of resistance which the talents of the
Emperor presented to his numerous enemies—and the internal situation of
the country itself.
While the events now commemorated were passing in France, the allies
made the most gigantic preparations for the renewal of war. The Chancellor
of the Exchequer of England had achieved a loan of thirty-six millions,
upon terms surprisingly moderate, and the command of this treasure had put
the whole troops of the coalition into the most active advance.
The seat of the Congress had been removed from Vienna to Frankfort, to be
near the theatre of war. The Emperors of Russia and Austria, with the King
of Prussia, had once more placed themselves at the head of their respective
armies. The whole eastern frontier was menaced by immense forces. One
hundred and fifty thousand Austrians, disengaged from Murat, might enter
France through Switzerland, the Cantons having acceded to the coalition.
An army equal in strength menaced the higher Rhine. Schwartzenberg
commanded the Austrians in chief, having under him Bellegarde, and
Frimont, Bianchi, and Vincent. Two hundred thousand Russians were
pressing towards the frontiers of Alsace. The Archduke Constantine was

nominated generalissimo, but Barclay de Tolly, Sacken, Langeron, &c. were
the efficient commanders. One hundred and fifty thousand Prussians, under
Blucher, occupied Flanders, and were united with about eighty thousand
troops, British, or in British pay, under the Duke of Wellington. There were
also to be reckoned the contingents of the different princes of Germany, so
that the allied forces were computed grossly to amount to upwards of one
million of men. The reader must not, however, suppose that such an
immense force was, or could be, brought forward at once. They were
necessarily disposed on various lines for the convenience of subsistence,
and were to be brought up successively in support of each other.
To meet this immense array, Napoleon, with his usual talent and celerity,
had brought forward means of surprising extent. The regular army,
diminished by the Bourbons, had been, by calling out the retired officers
and disbanded soldiers, increased from something rather under 100,000
men, to double that number of experienced troops, of the first quality. But
this was dust in the balance; and the mode of conscription was so intimately
connected with Napoleon's wars of conquest and disaster, that he dared not
propose, nor would the Chamber of Representatives have agreed, to have
recourse to the old and odious resource of conscription, which, however,
Buonaparte trusted he might still find effectual in the month of June, to the
number of 300,000. In the meantime, it was proposed to render moveable,
for active service, two hundred battalions of the national guard, choosing
those most fit for duty, which would make a force of 112,000 men. It was
also proposed to levy as many Federates, that is, volunteers of the lower
orders, as could be brought together in the different departments. The levy
of the national guards was ordered by an Imperial decree of 5th April, 1815,
and commissioners, chiefly of the Jacobin faction, were sent down into the
different departments, Buonaparte being well pleased at once to employ
them in their own sphere, and to get rid of their presence at Paris. Their
efforts were, however, unable to excite the spirit of the country; for they had
either survived their own energies, or the nation had been too long
accustomed to their mode of oratory, to feel any responsive impulse.
Liberty and fraternity was no longer a rallying sound, and the summons to
arms, by decrees as peremptory as those relating to the conscription, though
bearing another name, spread a general spirit of disgust through many
departments in the north of France. There and in Brittany the disaffection of

the inhabitants appeared in a sullen, dogged stubbornness, rather than in the
form of active resistance to Napoleon's decrees. The national guards refused
to parade, and, if compelled to do so, took every opportunity to desert and
return home; so that it often happened that a battalion, which had mustered
six hundred men, dwindled down to a fifth before they had marched two
leagues.
In the departments of La Garde, of the Marne, and the Nether Loire, the
white flag was displayed, and the tree of liberty, which had been replanted
in many places after the political regeneration of Buonaparte, was cut down.
The public mind in many provinces displayed itself as highly unfavourable
to Napoleon.
A report drawn up by Fouché, stated in high-coloured
DISAFFECTION. language the general disaffection. Napoleon always
considered this communication as published with a
view of prejudicing his affairs; and as that versatile statesman was already
in secret correspondence with the allies, it was probably intended as much
to encourage the Royalists, as to dismay the adherents of Napoleon. This
arch-intriguer, whom, to use an expression of Junius, treachery itself could
not trust, was at one moment nearly caught in his own toils; and although he
carried the matter with infinite address, Napoleon would have made him a
prisoner, or caused him to be shot, but for the intimation of Carnot, that, if
he did so, his own reign would not last an hour longer.[132]
Thus Buonaparte was already, in a great measure, reduced to the office of
Generalissimo of the State; and there were not wanting many, who dared to
entreat him to heal the wounds of the country by a second abdication in
favour of his son—a measure which the popular party conceived might
avert the impending danger of invasion.
In the meantime, about the middle of May, a short insurrection broke out in
La Vendée, under De Autechamp, Suzannet, Sapineau, and especially the
brave La Rochejacquelein. The war was neither long nor bloody, for an
overpowering force was directed against the insurgents, under Generals
Lamarque and Travot. The people were ill prepared for resistance, and the
government menaced them with the greatest severities, the instructions of
Carnot to the military having a strong tincture of his ancient education in

the school of terror. Yet the Chamber of Deputies did not in all respects
sanction the severities of the government. When a member, called
Leguevel, made a motion for punishing with pains and penalties the
Royalists of the west, the assembly heard him with patience and
approbation, propose that the goods and estates of the revolters (whom he
qualified as brigands, priests, and Royalists) should be confiscated; but
when he added, that not only the insurgents themselves, but their relations
in the direct line, whether ascendants or descendants, should be declared
outlaws, a general exclamation of horror drove the orator from the tribune.
After a battle near La Roche Servière, which cost the brave La
Rochejacquelein his life, the remaining chiefs signed a capitulation, by
which they disbanded their followers, and laid down their arms, at the very
time when holding out a few days would have made them acquainted with
the battle of Waterloo. Released from actual civil war, Napoleon now had
leisure to prepare for the external conflict.
The means resorted to by the French government, which we have already
alluded to, had enabled Carnot to represent the national means in a most
respectable point of view. By his report to the two Chambers, he stated, that
on 1st April 1814, the army had consisted of 450,000 men, who had been
reduced by the Bourbons to 175,000. Since the return of Napoleon, the
number had been increased to 375,000 combatants of every kind; and
before the 1st of August, was expected to amount to half a million. The
Imperial Guards, who were termed the country's brightest ornament in time
of peace, and its best bulwark in time of war, were recruited to the number
of 40,000 men.
Stupendous efforts had repaired, the report stated, the losses of the artillery
during the three disastrous years of 1812, 1813, 1814. Stores, ammunition,
arms of every kind, were said to be provided in abundance. The remounting
of the cavalry had been accomplished in such a manner as to excite the
surprise of every one. Finally, there was, as a body in reserve, the whole
mass of sedentary national guards, so called, because they were not among
the chosen bands which had been declared moveable. But the bulk of these
were either unfit for service, or unwilling to serve, and could only be relied
on for securing the public tranquillity. Corps of Federates had been formed

in all the districts where materials could be found of which to compose
them.
From these forces Napoleon selected a grand army to act under his personal
orders. They were chosen with great care, and the preparation of their
matériel was of the most extensive and complete description. The numbers
in gross might amount to 150,000; as great a number of troops, perhaps, as
can conveniently move upon one plan of operations, or be subjected to one
generalissimo. A large deduction is to be made to attain the exact amount of
his effective force.
Thus prepared for action, no doubt was made that
PLAN OF THE Buonaparte would open the campaign, by assuming
CAMPAIGN.
offensive operations. To wait till the enemy had
assembled their full force on his frontier, would have suited neither the man
nor the moment. It was most agreeable to his system, his disposition, and
his interest, to rush upon some separate army of the allies, surprise them,
according to his own phrase, in delict, and, by its dispersion or annihilation,
give courage to France, animate her to fresh exertions in his cause,
intimidate the confederated powers, and gain time for sowing in their
league the seeds of disunion. Even the Royalists, whose interest was so
immediately connected with the defeat of Buonaparte, were dismayed by
witnessing his gigantic preparations, and sadly anticipated victories as the
first result, though they trusted that, as in 1814, he would be at length worn
out by force of numbers and reiterated exertions.
But though all guessed at the mode of tactics which Napoleon would
employ, there was a difference of opinion respecting the point on which his
first exertions would be made; and in general it was augured, that, trusting
to the strength of Lisle, Valenciennes, and other fortified places on the
frontiers of Flanders, his first real attack, whatever diversion might be made
elsewhere, would take place upon Manheim, with the view of breaking
asunder the Austrian and Russian armies as they were forming, or rather of
attacking them separately, to prevent their communication in line. If he
should succeed in thus overwhelming the advance of the Austrians and
Russians, by directing his main force to this one point, before they were
fully prepared, it was supposed he might break up the plan of the allies for
this campaign.

But Buonaparte was desirous to aim a decisive blow at the most
enterprising and venturous of the invading armies. He knew Blucher, and
had heard of Wellington; he therefore resolved to move against those
generals, while he opposed walls and fortified places to the more slow and
cautious advance of the Austrian general, Schwartzenberg, and trusted that
distance might render ineffectual the progress of the Russians.
According to this general system, Paris, under the
PREPARATIONS OF direction of General Haxo, was, on the northern side,
WAR.
placed in a complete state of defence, by a double line
of fortifications, so that, if the first were forced, the defenders might retire
within the second, instead of being compelled, as in the preceding year, to
quit the heights and fall back upon the city. Montmartre was very strongly
fortified. The southern part of the city on the opposite side of the Seine was
only covered with a few field-works; time, and the open character of the
ground, permitting no more. But the Seine itself was relied upon as a
barrier, having proved such in 1814.
On the frontiers, similar precautions were observed. Intrenchments were
constructed in the five principal passes of the Vosgesian mountains, and all
the natural passes and strongholds of Lorraine were put in the best possible
state of defence. The posts on the inner line were strengthened with the
greatest care. The fine military position under the walls of Lyons was
improved with great expense and labour. A tête-de-pont was erected at
Brotteau; a drawbridge and barricade protected the suburb la Guillotière;
redoubts were erected between the Saonne and Rhine, and upon the heights
of Pierre Encise and the Quarter of Saint John. Guise, Vitri, Soissons,
Chauteau-Thierry, Langres, and all the towns capable of any defence, were
rendered as strong as posts, palisades, redoubts, and field-works could make
them. The Russian armies, though pressing fast forward, were not as yet
arrived upon the line of operations; and Napoleon doubtless trusted that
these impediments, in front of the Austrian line, would arrest any hasty
advance on their part, since the well-known tactics of that school declare
against leaving in their rear fortresses or towns possessed by the enemy,
however insignificant or slightly garrisoned, or however completely they
might be masked.

About now to commence his operations, Napoleon summoned round him
his best and most experienced generals. Soult, late minister of war for Louis
XVIII., was named major-general. He obeyed, he says, not in any respect as
an enemy of the King, but as a citizen and soldier, whose duty it was to
obey whomsoever was at the head of the government, as that of the Vicar of
Bray subjected him in ghostly submission to each head of the Church pro
tempore. Ney was ordered to repair to the army at Lisle, "if he wished," so
the command was expressed, "to witness the first battle." Macdonald was
strongly solicited to accept a command, but declined it with disdain.
Davoust, the minister-at-war, undertook to remove his scruples, and spoke
to him of what his honour required. "It is not from you," replied the
maréchal, "that I am to learn sentiments of honour," and persisted in his
refusal. D'Erlon, Reille, Vandamme, Gerard, and Mouton de Lobau, acted
as lieutenant-generals. The cavalry was placed under the command of
Grouchy (whom Napoleon had created a maréchal.) Pajol, Excelmans,
Milhaud, and Kellerman, were his seconds in command. Flahault, Dejean,
Labédoyère, and other officers of distinction, acted as the Emperor's aides-
de-camp. The artillery were three hundred pieces; the cavalry approached to
twenty-five thousand men; the guard to the same number; and there is little
doubt that the whole army amounted in effective force to nearly 130,000
soldiers, in the most complete state as to arms and equipment, who now
marched to a war which they themselves had occasioned, under an Emperor
of their own making, and bore both in their hearts and on their tongues the
sentiments of death or victory.
For the protection of the rest of the frontier, during Napoleon's campaign in
Flanders, Suchet was intrusted with the command on the frontiers of
Switzerland, with directions to attack Montmellian as soon as possible after
the 14th of June, which day Buonaparte had fixed for the commencement of
hostilities. Massena was ordered to repair to Metz, to assume the
government of that important fortress, and the command of the 3d and 4th
divisions. All preparations being thus made, Napoleon at length announced
what had long occupied his secret thoughts. "I go," he said, as he threw
himself into his carriage to join his army, "I go to measure myself with
Wellington."
But although Napoleon's expressions were those of confidence and
defiance, his internal feelings were of a different complexion. "I no longer

felt," as he afterwards expressed himself in his exile, "that complete
confidence in final success, which accompanied me on former
undertakings. Whether it was that I was getting beyond the period of life
when men are usually favoured by fortune, or whether the impulse of my
career seemed impeded in my own eyes, and to my own imagination, it is
certain that I felt a depression of spirit. Fortune, which used to follow my
steps to load me with her bounties, was now a severe deity, from whom I
might snatch a few favours, but for which she exacted severe retribution. I
had no sooner gained an advantage than it was followed by a reverse."[133]
With such feelings, not certainly unwarranted by the circumstances under
which the campaign was undertaken, nor disproved by the event, Napoleon
undertook his shortest and last campaign.

CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
Army of Wellington covers Brussels—that of Blucher on the
Sambre and Meuse—Napoleon reviews his Grand Army on 14th
June—Advances upon Charleroi—His plan to separate the
Armies of the two opposing Generals fails—Interview of
Wellington and Blucher at Bric—British Army concentrated at
Quatre-bras—Napoleon's plan of attack—Battle of Ligny, and
defeat of Blucher on 16th June—Action at Quatre-bras on the
same day—The British retain possession of the field—Blucher
eludes the French pursuit—Napoleon joins Ney—Retreat of the
British upon Waterloo.
The triple line of strong fortresses possessed by the French on the borders
of Belgium served Napoleon as a curtain, behind which he could prepare
his levies and unite his forces at pleasure, without any possibility of the
allies or their generals being able to observe his motions, or prepare for the
attack which such motions indicated. On the other hand, the frontier of
Belgium was open to his observation, and he knew perfectly the general
disposal of the allied force.
If the French had been prepared to make their meditated attack upon
Flanders in the month of May, they would have found no formidable force
to oppose them, as at that time the armies of the Prussian general Kleist,
and the hereditary Prince of Orange, did not, in all, exceed 50,000 men. But
the return of Napoleon, which again awakened the war, was an event as
totally unexpected in France as in Flanders, and, therefore, that nation was
as much unprepared to make an attack as the allies to repel one. Thus it
happened, that while Napoleon was exerting himself to collect a sufficient
army by the means we have mentioned, the Duke of Wellington, who
arrived at Brussels from Vienna in the beginning of April, had leisure to
garrison and supply the strong places of Ostend, Antwerp, and Nieuport,
which the French had not dismantled, and to fortify Ypres, Tournay, Mons,
and Ath. He had also leisure to receive his reinforcements from England,
and to collect the German, Dutch, and Belgian contingents.

Thus collected and reinforced, the Duke of Wellington's army might contain
about 30,000 English troops. They were not, however, those veteran
soldiers who had served under him during the Peninsular war; the flower of
which had been despatched upon the American expedition. Most were
second battalions, or regiments which had been lately filled up with new
recruits. The foreigners were 15,000 Hanoverians, with the celebrated
German Legion, 8000 strong, which had so often distinguished itself in
Spain; 5000 Brunswickers, under their gallant duke; and about 17,000
Belgians, Dutch, and Nassau troops, commanded by the Prince of Orange.
Great and just reliance was placed upon the Germans; but some
apprehensions were entertained for the steadiness of the Belgian troops.
Discontents had prevailed among them, which, at one period, had broken
out in open mutiny, and was not subdued without bloodshed. Most of them
had served in the French ranks, and it was feared some of them might
preserve predilections and correspondences dangerous to the general cause.
Buonaparte was under the same belief. He brought in his train several
Belgian officers, believing there would be a movement in his favour so
soon as he entered the Netherlands. But the Flemings are a people of sound
sense and feeling. Whatever jealousies might have been instilled into them
for their religion and privileges under the reign of a Protestant and a Dutch
sovereign, these were swallowed up in their apprehensions for the returning
tyranny of Napoleon. Some of these troops behaved with distinguished
valour; and most of them supported the ancient military character of the
Walloons. The Dutch corps were in general enthusiastically attached to the
Prince of Orange, and the cause of independence.
The Prussian army had been recruited to its highest
BLUCHER'S ARMY. war-establishment, within an incredibly short space of
time after Buonaparte's return had been made public,
and was reinforced in a manner surprising to those who do not reflect, how
much the resources of a state depend on the zeal of the inhabitants. Their
enthusiastic hatred to France, founded partly on the recollection of former
injuries, partly on that of recent success, was animated at once by feelings
of triumph and of revenge, and they marched to this new war, as to a
national crusade against an inveterate enemy, whom, when at their feet, they
had treated with injudicious clemency. Blucher was, however, deprived of a
valuable part of his army by the discontent of the Saxon troops. A mutiny

had broken out among them, when the Congress announced their intention
of transferring part of the Saxon dominions to Prussia; much bloodshed had
ensued, and it was judged most prudent that the troops of Saxony should
remain in garrison in the German fortresses.
Prince Blucher arrived at Liege, with the Prussian army, which was
concentrated on the Sambre and Meuse rivers, occupying Charleroi, Namur,
Givet, and Liege. The Duke of Wellington covered Brussels, where he had
fixed his headquarters, communicating by his left with the right of the
Prussians. There was a general idea that Napoleon's threatened advance
would take place on Namur, as he was likely to find least opposition at that
dismantled city.
The Duke of Wellington's first corps, under the Prince of Orange, with two
divisions of British, two of Hanoverians, and two of Belgians, occupied
Enghien, Brain le Comte, and Nivelles, and served as a reserve to the
Prussian division under Ziethen, which was at Charleroi. The second
division, commanded by Lord Hill, included two British, two Hanoverian,
and one Belgian divisions. It was cantoned at Halle, Oudenarde, and
Grammont. The reserve, under Picton, who, at Lord Wellington's special
request, had accepted of the situation of second in command, consisted of
the remaining two British divisions, with three of the Hanoverians, and was
stationed at Brussels and Ghent. The cavalry occupied Grammont and
Nieve.
The Anglo-Belgic army was so disposed, therefore, as might enable the
divisions to combine with each other, and with the Prussians, upon the
earliest authentic intelligence of the enemy's being put in motion. At the
same time, the various corps were necessarily, to a certain degree, detached,
both for the purpose of being more easily maintained (especially the
cavalry,) and also because, from the impossibility of foreseeing in what
direction the French Emperor might make his attack, it was necessary to
maintain such an extensive line of defence as to be prepared for his arrival
upon any given point. This is the necessary inconvenience attached to a
defensive position, where, if the resisting general should concentrate his
whole forces upon any one point of the line to be defended, the enemy
would, of course, choose to make their assault on some of the other points,
which such concentration must necessarily leave comparatively open.

In the meantime, Napoleon in person advanced to Vervins on 12th June,
with his Guard, who had marched from Paris. The other divisions of his
selected grand army had been assembled on the frontier, and the whole,
consisting of five divisions of infantry, and four of cavalry, were combined
at Beaumont on the 14th of the same month, with a degree of secrecy and
expedition which showed the usual genius of their commander. Napoleon
reviewed the troops in person, reminded them that the day was the
anniversary of the great victories of Marengo and Friedland, and called on
them to remember that the enemies whom they had then defeated, were the
same which were now arrayed against them. "Are they and we," he asked,
"no longer the same men?"[134] The address produced the strongest effect on
the minds of the French soldiery, always sensitively alive to military and
national glory.
Upon the 15th June, the French army was in motion in every direction.
Their advanced-guard of light troops swept the western bank of the Sambre
clear of all the allied corps of observation. They then advanced upon
Charleroi, which was well defended by the Prussians under General
Ziethen, who was at length compelled to retire on the large village of
Gosselies. Here his retreat was cut off by the second division of the French
army, and Ziethen was compelled to take the route of Fleurus, by which he
united himself with the Prussian force, which lay about the villages of
Ligny and St. Amand. The Prussian general had, however, obeyed his
orders, by making such protracted resistance as gave time for the alarm
being taken. In the attack and retreat, he lost four or five guns, and a
considerable number in killed and wounded.
By this movement the plan of Napoleon was made manifest. It was at once
most scientific and adventurous. His numbers were unequal to sustain a
conflict with the armies of Blucher and Wellington united, but by forcing
his way so as to separate the one enemy from the other, he would gain the
advantage of acting against either individually with the gross of his forces,
while he could spare enough of detached troops to keep the other in check.
To accomplish this masterly manœuvre, it was necessary to push onwards
upon a part of the British advance, which occupied the position of Quatre-
bras, and the yet more advanced post of Frasnes, where some of the Nassau
troops were stationed. But the extreme rapidity of Napoleon's forced
marches had in some measure prevented the execution of his plan, by

dispersing his forces so much, that at a time when every hour was of
consequence, he was compelled to remain at Charleroi until his wearied and
over-marched army had collected.
In the meantime, Ney was detached against Frasnes
FRASNES AND and Quatre-bras, but the troops of Namur kept their
QUATRE-BRAS.
post on the evening of the 15th. It is possible the
French maréchal might have succeeded had he attacked at Frasnes with his
whole force; but hearing a cannonade in the direction of Fleurus (which was
that of Ziethen's action,) he detached a division to support the French in that
quarter. For this exercise of his own judgment, instead of yielding precise
obedience to his orders, Ney was reprimanded; a circumstance curiously
contrasted with the case of Grouchy, upon whom Napoleon laid the whole
blame of the defeat at Waterloo, because he did follow his orders precisely,
and press the Prussians at Wavre, instead of being diverted from that object
by the cannonade on his left.
The manœuvre meditated by Napoleon thus failed, though it had nearly
been successful. He continued, however, to entertain the same purpose of
dividing, if possible, the British army from the Prussians.
The British general received intelligence of the advance of the French, at
Brussels, at six o'clock on the evening of the 15th,[135] but it was not of
sufficient certainty to enable him to put his army in motion, on an occasion
when a false movement might have been irretrievable ruin. About eleven of
the same night, the certain accounts reached Brussels that the advance of
the French was upon the line of the Sambre. Reinforcements were hastily
moved on Quatre-bras, and the Duke of Wellington arrived there in person
at an early hour on the 16th, and instantly rode from that position to Bric,
where he had a meeting with Blucher. It appeared at this time that the whole
French force was about to be directed against the Prussians.
Blucher was prepared to receive them. Three of his divisions, to the number
of 80,000 men, had been got into position on a chain of gentle heights,
running from Bric to Sombref; in front of their line lay the villages of the
Greater and Lesser St. Amand, as also that of Ligny, all of which were
strongly occupied. From the extremity of his right, Blucher could
communicate with the British at Quatre-bras, upon which the Duke of

Wellington was, as fast as distance would permit, concentrating his army.
The fourth Prussian division, being that of Bulow, stationed between Liege
and Hainault, was at too great a distance to be brought up, though every
effort was made for the purpose. Blucher undertook, however,
notwithstanding the absence of Bulow, to receive a battle in this position,
trusting to the support of the English army, who, by a flank movement to
the left, were to march to his assistance.
Napoleon had, in the meantime, settled his own plan of battle. He
determined to leave Ney with a division of 45,000 men, with instructions to
drive the English from Quatre-bras, ere their army was concentrated and
reinforced, and thus prevent their co-operating with Blucher, while he
himself, with the main body of his army, attacked the Prussian position at
Ligny. Ney being thus on the French left wing at Frasnes and Quatre-bras,
and Buonaparte on the right at Ligny, a division under D'Erlon, amounting
to 10,000 men, served as a centre of the army, and was placed near
Marchiennes, from which it might march laterally either to support Ney or
Napoleon, whichever might require assistance. As two battles thus took
place on the 16th June, it is necessary to take distinct notice of both.
That of Ligny was the principal action. The French
LIGNY. Emperor was unable to concentrate his forces, so as to
commence the attack upon the Prussians, until three
o'clock in the afternoon, at which hour it began with uncommon fury all
along the Prussian line. After a continued attack of two hours, the French
had only obtained possession of a part of the village of St. Amand. The
position of the Prussians, however, was thus far defective, that the main part
of their army being drawn up on the heights, and the remainder occupying
villages which lay at their foot, the reinforcements despatched to the latter
were necessarily exposed during their descent to the fire from the French
artillery, placed on the meadows below. Notwithstanding this disadvantage,
by which the Prussians suffered much, Napoleon thought the issue of the
contest so doubtful, that he sent for D'Erlon's division, which, as we have
mentioned, was stationed near Marchiennes, half-way betwixt Quatre-bras
and Ligny. In the meanwhile, observing that Blucher drew his reserves
together on St. Amand, he changed his point of attack, and directed all his
force against Ligny, of which, after a desperate resistance, he at length
obtained possession. The French Guards, supported by their heavy cavalry,

ascended the heights, and attacked the Prussian position in the rear of
Ligny. The reserves of the Prussian infantry having been despatched to St.
Amand, Blucher had no means of repelling this attack, save by his cavalry.
He placed himself at their head, and charged in the most determined
manner, but without success. The cavalry of Blucher were forced back in
disorder.
The prince maréchal, as he directed the retreat, was involved in one of the
charges of cavalry, his horse struck down by a cannon-shot, and he himself
prostrated on the ground. His aide-de-camp threw himself beside the
veteran, determined to share his fate, and had the precaution to fling a cloak
over him, to prevent his being recognised by the French. The enemy's
cuirassiers passed over him, and it was not until they were repulsed, and in
their turn pursued by the Prussian cavalry, that the gallant veteran was
raised and remounted.[136] Blucher's death, or captivity, at that eventful
moment, might have had most sinister effects on the event of the campaign,
as it may be fairly doubted whether any thing short of his personal influence
and exertion could, after this hard-fought and unfortunate day, have again
brought the Prussian army into action on the eventful 18th of June. When
relieved, and again mounted, Blucher directed the retreat upon Tilly, and
achieved it unmolested by the enemy, who did not continue their pursuit
beyond the heights which the Prussians had been constrained to abandon.
Such was the battle of Ligny, in which the Prussians, as Blucher truly said,
"lost the field, but not their honour."[137] The victory was attended with
none of those decisive consequences which were wont to mark the
successes of Buonaparte. There were no corps cut off or dispersed, no
regiments which fled or flung down their arms, no line of defence forced,
and no permanent advantage gained. Above all, there was not a man who
lost heart or courage. The Prussians are believed to have lost in this bloody
action at least 10,000 men; the Moniteur makes the number of the killed
and wounded 15,000, and General Gourgaud, dissatisfied with this liberal
allowance, rates them afterwards at no less than 25,000 men, while writing
under Napoleon's dictation. The loss of the victors was, by the official
accounts, estimated at 3000 men,[138] which ought to have been more than
tripled. Still, the French Emperor had struck a great blow—overpowered a
stubborn and inveterate enemy, and opened the campaign with favourable
auspices. The degree of advantage, however, which Napoleon might have

derived from the Prussian retreat was greatly limited by the indifferent
success of Ney against the forces of Lord Wellington. Of this second action
we have now to give some account.
Frasnes had been evacuated by the British, who, on
QUATRE-BRAS. the morning of the 16th, were in position at Quatre-
bras, a point of importance, as four roads diverge
from it in different directions; so that the British general might
communicate from his left with the Prussian right at St. Amand, besides
having in his rear a causeway open for his retreat. On the left of the
causeway, leading from Charleroi to Brussels, is a wood, called Bois de
Bossu, which, during the early part of the day, was strongly contested by
the sharpshooters on both sides, but at length carried by the French, and
maintained for a time. About three o'clock in the afternoon, the main attack
commenced, but was repulsed. The British infantry, however, and
particularly the 42d Highlanders, suffered severely from an unexpected
charge of lancers, whose approach was hid from them by the character of
the ground, intersected with hedges, and covered with heavy crops of rye.
Two companies of the Highlanders were cut off, not having time to form the
square; the other succeeded in getting into order, and beating off the
lancers. Ney then attempted a general charge of heavy cavalry; but they
were received with such a galling fire from the British infantry, joined to a
battery of two guns, that it could not be sustained; the whole causeway was
strewed with men and horses, and the fugitives, who escaped to the rear,
announced the loss of an action which was far from being decided,
considering that the British had few infantry and artillery, though
reinforcements of both were coming fast forward.
The French, as already noticed, had, about three o'clock, obtained
possession of the Bois de Bossu and driven out the Belgians. They were in
return themselves expelled by the British guards, who successfully resisted
every attempt made by the French to penetrate into the wood during the
day.
As the English reinforcements arrived in succession, Maréchal Ney became
desirous of an addition of numbers, and sent to procure the assistance of
D'Erlon's division, posted, as has been said, near Marchiennes. But these
troops had been previously ordered to succour Buonaparte's own army. As

the affair of Ligny was, however, over before they arrived, the division was
again sent back towards Frasnes to assist Ney; but his battle was also by
this time over, and thus D'Erlon's troops marched from one flank to the
other, without firing a musket in the course of the day. The battle of Quatre-
bras terminated with the light. The British retained possession of the field,
which they had maintained with so much obstinacy, because the Duke of
Wellington conceived that Blucher would be able to make his ground good
at Ligny, and was consequently desirous that the armies should retain the
line of communication which they had occupied in the morning.
But the Prussians, evacuating all the villages which they held in the
neighbourhood of Ligny, had concentrated their forces to retreat upon the
river Dyle, in the vicinity of Wavre. By this retrograde movement, they
were placed about six leagues to the rear of their former position, and had
united themselves to Bulow's division, which had not been engaged in the
affair at Ligny. Blucher had effected this retreat, not only without pursuit by
the French, but without their knowing for some time in what direction he
had gone.
This doubt respecting Blucher's movements, occasioned an uncertainty and
delay in those of the French, which were afterwards attended with the very
worst consequences. Napoleon, or General Gourgaud in his name, does not
hesitate to assert, that the cause of this delay rested with Maréchal Grouchy,
on whom was devolved the duty of following up the Prussian retreat. "If
Maréchal Grouchy," says the accusation, "had been at Wavre on the 17th,
and in communication with my (Napoleon's) right, Blucher would not have
dared to send any detachment of his army against me on the 18th; or if he
had, I would have destroyed them."[139] But the maréchal appears to make a
victorious defence. Grouchy says, that he sought out the Emperor on the
night of the 16th, so soon as the Prussian retreat commenced, but that he
could not see him till he returned to Fleurus; nor did he obtain any answer
to his request of obtaining some infantry to assist his cavalry in following
Blucher and his retreating army, excepting an intimation that he would
receive orders next day. He states, that he went again to headquarters in the
morning of the 17th, aware of the full importance of following the Prussians
closely up, but that he could not see Buonaparte till half-past seven, and
then was obliged to follow him to the field of battle of the preceding day,
previous to receiving his commands. Napoleon talked with various persons

on different subjects, without giving Grouchy any orders until near noon,
when he suddenly resolved to send the maréchal with an army of 32,000
men, not upon Wavre, for he did not know that the Prussians had taken that
direction, but to follow Blucher wherever he might have gone. Lastly,
Grouchy affirms that the troops of Gérard and Vandamme, who were placed
under his command, were not ready to move until three o'clock. Thus,
according to the maréchal's very distinct narrative, the first orders for the
pursuit were not given till about noon on the 17th, and the troops were not
in a capacity to obey them until three hours after they were received. For
this delay Grouchy blames Excelmans and Gérard, who commanded under
him. His corps, at any rate, was not in motion until three o'clock upon the
17th.[140]
Neither could his march, when begun, be directed with certainty on Wavre.
The first traces of the Prussians which he could receive, seemed to intimate,
on the contrary, that they were retiring towards Namur, which induced
Grouchy to push the pursuit in the latter direction, and occasioned the loss
of some hours. From all these concurring reasons, the maréchal shows
distinctly, that he could not have attained Wavre on the evening of the 17th
June, because he had no orders to go there till noon, nor troops ready to
march till three o'clock; nor had either Napoleon or his general any
foreknowledge of the motions of Blucher, which might induce them to
believe Wavre was the true point of his retreat. It was not till he found the
English resolved to make a stand at Waterloo, and the Prussians determined
to communicate with them, that Napoleon became aware of the plan
arranged betwixt Wellington and Blucher, to concentrate the Prussian and
English armies at Waterloo. This was the enigma on which his fate
depended, and he failed to solve it. But it was more agreeable, and much
more convenient, for Napoleon to blame Grouchy, than to acknowledge that
he himself had been surprised by the circumstances in which he
unexpectedly found himself on the 18th.
Meantime, having detached Grouchy to pursue the Prussians, Napoleon
himself moved laterally towards Frasnes, and there united himself with the
body commanded by Maréchal Ney. His purpose was to attack the Duke of
Wellington, whom he expected still to find in the position of Quatre-bras.

But about seven in the morning, the duke, having received intelligence of
the Prince Maréchal Blucher's retreat to Wavre, commenced a retreat on his
part towards Waterloo, in order to recover his communication with the
Prussians, and resume the execution of the plan of co-operation, which had
been in some degree disconcerted by the sudden irruption of the French,
and the loss of the battle of Ligny by the Prussians. The retreat was
conducted with the greatest regularity, though it was as usual unpleasant to
the feelings of the soldier. The news of the battle of Ligny spread through
the ranks, and even the most sanguine did not venture to hope that the
Prussians would be soon able to renew the engagement. The weather was
dreadful, as the rain fell in torrents; but this so far favoured the British, by
rendering the ploughed fields impracticable for horse, so that their march
was covered from the attacks of the French cavalry on the flanks, and the
operations of those by whom they were pursued were confined to the
causeway.
At Genappe, however, a small town, where a narrow
GENAPPE— bridge over the river Dyle can only be approached by
WATERLOO.
a confined street, there was an attack on the British
rear, which the English light cavalry were unable to repel; but the heavy
cavalry being brought up, repulsed the French, who gave the rear of the
army no farther disturbance for the day.
At five in the evening, the Duke of Wellington arrived on the memorable
field of Waterloo, which he had long before fixed as the position in which
he had, in certain events, determined to make a stand for covering Brussels.
The scene of this celebrated action must be familiar to most readers, either
from description or recollection. The English army occupied a chain of
heights, extending from a ravine and village, termed Merke Braine, on the
right, to a hamlet called Ter la Haye, on the left. Corresponding to this chain
of heights there runs one somewhat parallel to them, on which the French
were posted. A small valley winds between them of various breadth at
different points, but not generally exceeding half a mile. The declivity on
either side into the valley has a varied, but on the whole a gentle slope,
diversified by a number of undulating irregularities of ground. The field is
crossed by two highroads, or causeways, both leading to Brussels—one
from Charleroi through Quatre-bras and Genappe, by which the British

army had just retreated, and another from Nivelles. These roads traverse the
valley, and meet behind the village of Mont St. Jean, which was in the rear
of the British army. The farm-house of Mont St. Jean, which must be
carefully distinguished from the hamlet, was much closer to the rear of the
British than the latter. On the Charleroi causeway in front of the line, there
is another farm-house, called La Haye Sainte, situated nearly at the foot of
the declivity leading into the valley. On the opposite chain of eminences, a
village called La Belle Alliance gives name to the range of heights. It
exactly fronts Mont St. Jean, and these two points formed the respective
centres of the French and English positions.
An old-fashioned Flemish villa, called Goumont, or Hougomont, stood in
the midst of the valley, surrounded with gardens, offices, and a wood, about
two acres in extent, of tall beech-trees. Behind the heights of Mont St. Jean,
the ground again sinks into a hollow, which served to afford some sort of
shelter to the second line of the British. In the rear of this second valley, is
the great and extensive forest of Soignies, through which runs the causeway
to Brussels. On that road, two miles in the rear of the British army, is placed
the small town of Waterloo.

CHAPTER LXXXIX.
Strength of the two armies—Plans of their Generals—The
Battle of Waterloo commenced on the forenoon of the 18th
June—French attack directed against the British centre—shifted
to their right—Charges of the Cuirassiers—and their reception
—Advance of the Prussians—Ney's charge at the head of the
Guards—His repulse—and Napoleon's orders for retreat—The
victorious Generals meet at La Belle Alliance—Behaviour of
Napoleon during the engagement—Blucher's pursuit of the
French—Loss of the British—of the French—Napoleon's
subsequent attempts to undervalue the military skill of the Duke
of Wellington answered—His unjust censures of Grouchy—The
notion that the British were on the point of losing the battle
when the Prussians came up, shown to be erroneous.
There might be a difference of opinion in a mere
WATERLOO. military question, whether the English general ought
to have hazarded a battle for the defence of Brussels,
or whether, falling back on the strong city of Antwerp, it might have been
safer to wait the arrival of the reinforcements which were in expectation.
But in a moral and political point of view, the protecting Brussels was of the
last importance. Napoleon has declared, that, had he gained the battle of
Waterloo, he had the means of revolutionizing Belgium;[141] and although
he was doubtless too sanguine in this declaration, yet unquestionably the
French had many partisans in a country which they had so long possessed.
The gaining of the battle of Ligny had no marked results, still less had the
indecisive action at Quatre-bras; but had these been followed by the retreat
of the English army to Antwerp, and the capture of Brussels, the capital city
of the Netherlands, they would then have attained the rank of great and
decisive victories.
Napoleon, indeed, pretended to look to still more triumphant results from
such a victory, and to expect nothing less than the dissolution of the
European Alliance as the reward of a decided defeat of the English in

Belgium. So long as it was not mentioned by what means this was to be
accomplished, those who had no less confidence in Napoleon's intrigues
than his military talents, must have supposed that he had already in
preparation among the foreign powers some deep scheme, tending to sap
the foundation of their alliance, and ready to be carried into action when he
should attain a certain point of success. But when it is explained that these
extensive expectations rested on Napoleon's belief that a single defeat of the
Duke of Wellington would occasion a total change of government in
England; that the statesmen of the Opposition would enter into office as a
thing of course, and instantly conclude a peace with him;[142] and that the
coalition, thus deprived of subsidies, must therefore instantly withdraw the
armies which were touching the French frontier on its whole northern and
eastern line—Napoleon's extravagant speculations can only serve to show
how very little he must have known of the English nation, with which he
had been fighting so long. The war with France had been prosecuted more
than twenty years, and though many of these were years of bad success and
defeat, the nation had persevered in a resistance which terminated at last in
complete triumph. The national opinion of the great general who led the
British troops, was too strongly rooted to give way upon a single
misfortune; and the event of the campaign of 1814, in which Napoleon,
repeatedly victorious, was at length totally defeated and dethroned, would
have encouraged a more fickle people than the English to continue the war
notwithstanding a single defeat, if such an event had unhappily occurred.
The Duke had the almost impregnable fortress and seaport of Antwerp in
his rear, and might have waited there the reinforcements from America.
Blucher had often shown how little he was disheartened by defeat; at worst,
he would have fallen back on a Russian army of 200,000 men, who were
advancing on the Rhine. The hopes, therefore, that the battle of Waterloo, if
gained by the French, would have finished the war, must be abandoned as
visionary, whether we regard the firm and manly character of the great
personage at the head of the British monarchy, the state of parties in the
House of Commons, where many distinguished members of the Opposition
had joined the Ministry on the question of the war, or the general feeling of
the country, who saw with resentment the new irruption of Napoleon. It
cannot, however, be denied, that any success gained by Napoleon in this
first campaign, would have greatly added to his influence both in France
and other countries, and might have endangered the possession of Flanders.

The Duke of Wellington resolved, therefore, to protect Brussels, if possible,
even by the risk of a general action.
By the march from Quatre-bras to Waterloo, the Duke had restored his
communication with Blucher, which had been dislocated by the retreat of
the Prussians to Wavre. When established there, Blucher was once more
upon the same line with the British, the distance between the Prussian right
flank, and the British left, being about five leagues, or five leagues and a
half. The ground which lay between the two extreme points, called the
heights of St. Lambert, was exceedingly rugged and wooded; and the cross-
roads which traversed it, forming the sole means of communication
between the English and Prussians, were dreadfully broken up by the late
tempestuous weather.
The duke despatched intelligence of his position in front of Waterloo to
Prince Blucher, acquainting him at the same time with his resolution to give
Napoleon the battle which he seemed to desire, providing the prince would
afford him the support of two divisions of the Prussian army. The answer
was worthy of the indefatigable and indomitable old man, who was never so
much disconcerted by defeat as to prevent his being willing and ready for
combat on the succeeding day. He sent for reply, that he would move to the
Duke of Wellington's support, not with two divisions only, but with his
whole army; and that he asked no time to prepare for the movement, longer
than was necessary to supply food and serve out cartridges to his soldiers.
It was three o'clock on the afternoon of the 17th,[143] when the British came
on the field, and took up their bivouac for the night in the order of battle in
which they were to fight the next day. It was much later before Napoleon
reached the heights of Belle Alliance in person, and his army did not come
up in full force till the morning of the 18th. Great part of the French had
passed the night in the little village of Genappe, and Napoleon's own
quarters had been at the farm-house called Caillou, about a mile in the rear
of La Belle Alliance.
In the morning, when Napoleon had formed his line of battle, his brother
Jerome, to whom he ascribed the possession of very considerable military
talents, commanded on the left—Counts Reille and D'Erlon the centre—and
Count Lobau on the right. Maréchals Soult and Ney acted as lieutenant-

generals to the Emperor. The French force on the field consisted probably
of about 75,000 men. The English army did not exceed that number, at the
highest computation. Each army was commanded by the chief, under whom
they had offered to defy the world. So far the forces were equal. But the
French had the very great advantage of being trained and experienced
soldiers of the same nation, whereas the English, in the Duke of
Wellington's army, did not exceed 35,000; and although the German Legion
were veteran troops, the other soldiers under his command were those of the
German contingents, lately levied, unaccustomed to act together, and in
some instances suspected to be lukewarm to the cause in which they were
engaged; so that it would have been imprudent to trust more to their
assistance and co-operation than could possibly be avoided. In Buonaparte's
mode of calculating, allowing one Frenchman to stand as equal to one
Englishman, and one Englishman or Frenchman against two of any other
nation, the inequality of force on the Duke of Wellington's side was very
considerable.
The British army thus composed, was divided into two lines. The right of
the first line consisted of the second and fourth English divisions, the third
and sixth Hanoverians, and the first corps of Belgians, under Lord Hill. The
centre was composed of the corps of the Prince of Orange, with the
Brunswickers and troops of Nassau, having the guards, under General
Cooke, on the right, and the division of General Alten on the left. The left
wing consisted of the divisions of Picton, Lambert, and Kempt. The second
line was in most instances formed of the troops deemed least worthy of
confidence, or which had suffered too severely in the action of the 16th to
be again exposed until extremity. It was placed behind the declivity of the
heights to the rear, in order to be sheltered from the cannonade, but
sustained much loss from shells during the action. The cavalry were
stationed in the rear, distributed all along the line, but chiefly posted on the
left of the centre, to the east of the Charleroi causeway. The farm-house of
La Haye Sainte, in the front of the centre, was garrisoned, but there was not
time to prepare it effectually for defence. The villa, gardens, and farm-yard
of Hougomont formed a strong advanced post towards the centre of the
right. The whole British position formed a sort of curve, the centre of which
was nearest to the enemy, and the extremities, particularly on their right,
drawn considerably backward.

The plans of these two great generals were extremely
PLANS OF ATTACK. simple. The object of the Duke of Wellington was to
maintain his line of defence, until the Prussians
coming up, should give him a decided superiority of force. They were
expected about eleven or twelve o'clock; but the extreme badness of the
roads, owing to the violence of the storm, detained them several hours later.
Napoleon's scheme was equally plain and decided. He trusted by his usual
rapidity of attack, to break and destroy the British army before the Prussians
should arrive in the field; after which, he calculated to have an opportunity
of destroying the Prussians, by attacking them on their march through the
broken ground interposed betwixt them and the British. In these
expectations he was the more confident, that he believed Grouchy's force,
detached on the 17th in pursuit of Blucher, was sufficient to retard, if not
altogether to check, the march of the Prussians. His grounds for entertaining
this latter opinion, were, as we shall afterwards show, too hastily adopted.
Commencing the action according to his usual system, Napoleon kept his
guard in reserve, in order to take opportunity of charging with them, when
repeated attacks of column after column, and squadron after squadron,
should induce his wearied enemy to show some symptoms of irresolution.
But Napoleon's movements were not very rapid. His army had suffered by
the storm even more than the English, who were in bivouac at three in the
afternoon of the 17th June; while the French were still under march, and
could not get into line on the heights of La Belle Alliance until ten or eleven
o'clock of the 18th. The English army had thus some leisure to take food,
and to prepare their arms before the action; and Napoleon lost several hours
ere he could commence the attack. Time was, indeed, inestimably precious
for both parties, and hours, nay, minutes, were of importance. But of this
Napoleon was less aware than was the Duke of Wellington.
The tempest which had raged with tropical violence all night, abated in the
morning; but the weather continued gusty and stormy during the whole day.
Betwixt eleven and twelve, before noon, on the memorable 18th June, this
dreadful and decisive action commenced, with a cannonade on the part of
the French, instantly followed by an attack, commanded by Jerome, on the
advanced post of Hougomont. The troops of Nassau, which occupied the
wood around the chateau, were driven out by the French, but the utmost

efforts of the assailants were unable to force the house, garden, and farm
offices, which a party of the guards sustained with the most dauntless
resolution. The French redoubled their efforts, and precipitated themselves
in numbers on the exterior hedge, which screens the garden-wall, not
perhaps aware of the internal defence afforded by the latter. They fell in
great numbers on this point by the fire of the defenders, to which they were
exposed in every direction. The number of their troops, however, enabled
them, by possession of the wood, to mask Hougomont for a time, and to
push on with their cavalry and artillery against the British right, which
formed in squares to receive them. The fire was incessant, but without
apparent advantage on either side. The attack was at length repelled so far,
that the British again opened their communication with Hougomont, and
that important garrison was reinforced by Colonel Hepburn and a body of
the guards.
Meantime, the fire of artillery having become general along the line, the
force of the French attack was transferred to the British centre. It was made
with the most desperate fury, and received with the most stubborn
resolution. The assault was here made upon the farm-house of Saint Jean by
four columns of infantry, and a large mass of cuirassiers, who took the
advance. The cuirassiers came with the utmost intrepidity along the
Genappe causeway, where they were encountered and charged by the
English heavy cavalry; and a combat was maintained at the sword's point,
till the French were driven back on their own position, where they were
protected by their artillery. The four columns of French infantry, engaged in
the same attack, forced their way forward beyond the farm of La Haye
Sainte, and dispersing a Belgian regiment, were in the act of establishing
themselves in the centre of the British position, when they were attacked by
the brigade of General Pack, brought up from the second line by General
Picton, while, at the same time, a brigade of British heavy cavalry wheeled
round their own infantry, and attacked the French charging columns in
flank, at the moment when they were checked by the fire of the musketry.
The results were decisive. The French columns were broken with great
slaughter, and two eagles, with more than 2000 men, were made prisoners.
The latter were sent instantly off for Brussels.
The British cavalry, however, followed their success too far. They got
involved amongst the French infantry and some hostile cavalry which were

detached to support them, and were obliged to retire
PICTON— with considerable loss. In this part of the action, the
PONSONBY.
gallant General Picton, so distinguished for enterprise
and bravery, met his death, as did General Ponsonby, who commanded the
cavalry.
About this period the French made themselves masters of the farm of La
Haye Sainte, cutting to pieces about two hundred Hanoverian
sharpshooters, by whom it was most gallantly defended. The French
retained this post for some time, till they were at last driven out of it by
shells.
Shortly after this event, the scene of conflict again shifted to the right,
where a general attack of French cavalry was made on the squares, chiefly
towards the centre of the British right, or between that and the causeway.
They came up with the most dauntless resolution, in despite of the
continued fire of thirty pieces of artillery, placed in front of the line, and
compelled the artillerymen, by whom they were served, to retreat within the
squares. The enemy had no means, however, to secure the guns, or even to
spike them, and at every favourable moment the British artillerymen sallied
from their place of refuge, again manned their pieces, and fired on the
assailants—a manœuvre which seems peculiar to the British service.[144]
The cuirassiers, however, continued their dreadful onset, and rode up to the
squares in the full confidence, apparently, of sweeping them before the
impetuosity of their charge. Their onset and reception was like a furious
ocean pouring itself against a chain of insulated rocks. The British squares
stood unmoved, and never gave fire until the cavalry were within ten yards,
when men rolled one way, horses galloped another, and the cuirassiers were
in every instance driven back.
The French authors have pretended that squares were broken, and colours
taken; but this assertion, upon the united testimony of every British officer
present, is a positive untruth. This was not, however, the fault of the
cuirassiers, who displayed an almost frantic valour. They rallied again and
again, and returned to the onset, till the British could recognise even the
faces of individuals among their enemies. Some rode close up to the
bayonets, fired their pistols, and cut with their swords with reckless and
useless valour. Some stood at gaze, and were destroyed by the musketry and

artillery. Some squadrons, passing through the intervals of the first line,
charged the squares of Belgians posted there, with as little success. At
length the cuirassiers suffered so severely on every hand, that they were
compelled to abandon the attempt, which they had made with such intrepid
and desperate courage. In this unheard-of struggle, the greater part of the
French heavy cavalry were absolutely destroyed. Buonaparte hints at it in
his bulletin as an attempt made without orders, and continued only by the
desperate courage of the soldiers and their officers.[145] It is certain that, in
the destruction of this noble body of cuirassiers, he lost the corps which
might have been most effectual in covering his retreat. After the broken
remains of this fine cavalry were drawn off, the French confined themselves
for a time to a heavy cannonade, from which the British sheltered
themselves in part by lying down on the ground, while the enemy prepared
for an attack on another quarter, and to be conducted in a different manner.
It was now about six o'clock, and during this long succession of the most
furious attacks, the French had gained no success save occupying for a time
the wood around Hougomont, from which they had been expelled, and the
farm house of La Haye Sainte, which had been also recovered. The British,
on the other hand, had suffered very severely, but had not lost one inch of
ground, save the two posts, now regained. Ten thousand men were,
however, killed and wounded; some of the foreign regiments had given
way, though others had shown the most desperate valour. And the ranks
were thinned both by the actual fugitives, and by the absence of individuals,
who left the bloody field for the purpose of carrying off the wounded, and
some of whom might naturally be in no hurry to return to so fatal a scene.
But the French, besides losing about 15,000 men,
WATERLOO. together with a column of prisoners more than 2000
in number, began now to be disturbed by the
operations of the Prussians on their right flank; and the secret of the Duke
of Wellington was disclosing itself by its consequences. Blucher, faithful to
his engagement, had, early in the morning, put in motion Bulow's division,
which had not been engaged at Ligny, to communicate with the English
army, and operate a diversion on the right flank and rear of the French. But
although there were only about twelve or fourteen miles between Wavre and
the field of Waterloo, yet the march was, by unavoidable circumstances,
much delayed. The rugged face of the country, together with the state of the