HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION OF THE 20th OF MARCH. (continued 2)

Frenchmen! there is no nation, however small, that has not possessed the right of withdrawing, and that has not withdrawn itself, from the disgrace of obeying a prince imposed upon it by an enemy temporarily victorious. When Charles VII. re-entered Paris, and overturned the ephemeral throne of Henry VI., he acknowledged, that he held his crown from the valour of his brave people, and not from the Prince Regent of England.

It is to you only, and to the brave men of the army, that I make, and shall always make it my glory, to owe every thing.

Signed, Napoleon.

By the Emperor.

The grand marshal, executing the functions of major-general of the grand army.

Signed, Bertrand.

The Emperor, while he dictated these proclamations, appeared to be animated with the most profound indignation. He seemed to have before his eyes, both the generals, whom he accused of having given up France, and the enemies, who had subjugated it. He incessantly repeated the names of Marmont and Augereau, and they were always accompanied with threats and with epithets, suited to the idea he had conceived of their treachery.

When the proclamations were transcribed, the Emperor directed them to be read aloud, and invited all those who could write a good hand to copy them. In an instant, benches and drums were converted into tables; and soldiers, sailors, and officers, set themselves gayly to work.

After a certain time, his Majesty said to the officers around him, "Now, gentlemen, it is your turn, to speak to the army: you must tell it what France expects of it under the important circumstances in which we shall soon find ourselves. Come, Bertrand, take your pen." The grand marshal excused himself. The Emperor then resumed his discourse, and dictated, without stopping, an address to the generals, officers, and soldiers of the army, in which the imperial guard conjured them, in the name of honour and their country, to shake off the yoke of the Bourbons.

"Soldiers," said they to them, "the drum beats the general, and we march: run to arms, come and join us, join your Emperor, and our eagles.

"And if these men, now so arrogant, who have always fled at the sight of our weapons, dare wait for us, where can we find a fairer occasion of shedding our blood, and chanting the hymn of victory?

"Soldiers of the seventh, eighth, and nineteenth military divisions, garrisons of Antibes, Toulon, and Marseilles, retired officers, veterans of our army, you are called to the honour of setting the first example: come with us to conquer that throne, which is the palladium of your rights; and let posterity some day tell, 'Foreigners, seconded by traitors, had imposed a disgraceful yoke on France; the brave arose, and the enemies of the people, of the army, disappeared, and returned to their original nothingness.'"

On the 1st of March, at three o'clock, they entered the Gulf of Juan. General Drouot, and a certain number of officers and soldiers, who were on board the felucca Caroline, landed before the Emperor, who was still at a considerable distance from the shore. At this moment they perceived to the right a large vessel, which appeared to them (though they were mistaken in this) to be steering with all sails towards the brig. Suddenly they were seized with the greatest disquiet; they walked backward and forward, testifying by their gestures and their hurried steps, the emotion and fear with which they were agitated. General Drouot ordered the Caroline to be unloaded, and to hasten to meet the brig. In an instant cannons, carriages, chests, baggage, every thing was thrown out upon the sand, and already the grenadiers and brave sea officers of the guard were rowing away with all their strength, when acclamations from the brig saluted their ears and their affrighted eyes. It was the Emperor: whether from prudential motives or impatience, he had got into a simple boat. Their alarms ceased; and the grenadiers, stretching out their arms to him, received him with the most affecting demonstrations of devotedness and joy. At five o'clock he landed. I have heard him say, that he never felt an emotion so profound.

""His quarters for the night were taken up in a field surrounded by olive-trees. This, he exclaimed, is a happy omen: may it be realized!""

A few peasants were seen: the Emperor ordered them to be called, and interrogated them. One of them had formerly served under him: he knew his old general, and would not quit him. Napoleon, turning to the grand marshal, said to him, with a smile, "Well, Bertrand, you see we have a reinforcement already." He spent the evening chatting and laughing familiarly with his generals and the officers of his household. "I see from this spot," said he, "the fright I shall give the Bourbons, and the embarrassment of all those who have turned their backs upon me." Then, continuing to joke on the same subject, he defined, with his wonted sagacity, the characters of the marshals and great personages, who had formerly served him; and was much amused with the endeavours they would make ""to save appearances, and prudently await the moment for declaring themselves for the strongest party.""

The success of his enterprise appeared less to employ his thoughts, than the dangers to which his friends and partisans, whom he no longer called by any other name than that of patriots, were going to be exposed. "What will become of the patriots before my arrival at Paris?" he frequently exclaimed: "I tremble lest the Vendeans and emigrants should massacre them. Wo betide those who touch them! I will have no mercy on them."

Immediately after he landed, the Emperor had despatched a captain of the guard with five and twenty men to Antibes: their instructions were, to present themselves as deserters from the island of Elba; to sound the disposition of the garrison; and, if this appeared favourable, to seduce it: but, led away by their imprudent ardour, they entered the city, shouting, "Long live the Emperor!" and the commandant caused the drawbridge instantly to be raised, and detained them as prisoners. Napoleon, finding they did not return, sent for a civil officer of the guard, and said to him, ""You will immediately repair to the walls of Antibes: you will deliver this despatch, or cause it to be delivered to General Corsin: you will not enter the place, as you might be detained: you will draw together the soldiers, you will read to them my proclamations, and you will harangue them. Do you not know, you will say to them, that your Emperor is here? that the garrisons of Grenoble and Lyons have marched to join him with the charge step? What do you wait for? Will you leave to others the honour of joining him before you? the honour of marching at the head of his advanced guard? Come, and salute our eagles and our tricoloured flags. The Emperor and your country command it; then come.""

This officer, on his return, said, that the gates of the town and harbour were closed, and that it was not possible for him to see General Corsin, or to speak to the soldiers. Napoleon appeared disappointed, though but little disturbed by the disappointment. At eleven in the evening he began his march, with four small pieces of artillery in his train. The Poles, though unable to embark their horses, had brought with them their accoutrements, and gayly marched in the advanced guard, bending beneath the weight of their enormous luggage. Napoleon purchased for them every horse he met with, and thus remounted his handful of cavalry one by one.

He proceeded to Cannes, thence to Grasses, and, in the evening of the 2d, arrived at the village of Cerenon, having marched twenty leagues this first day. Every where he was received with sentiments, that presaged the success of the enterprise.

On the 3d the Emperor slept at Bareme, and on the 4th at Digne. The report of his landing, which preceded him from place to place, excited every where a mingled feeling of joy, surprise, and anxiety. The peasants blessed his return, and expressed their good wishes to him in their simple language; but when they saw his little troop, they looked on him with tender pity, and had no hope of his being triumphant with such feeble means.

On the 5th Napoleon slept at Gap, and retained with him only six horsemen, and forty grenadiers.

In this city he printed, for the first time, his proclamations: they were diffused with the rapidity of lightning, and inflamed every head and every heart with such violent and prompt devotedness, that the whole population of the country was desirous of rising in a body, and marching as his advanced guard.

In these proclamations he did not borrow, as has been asserted, the title of general in chief, or of lieutenant general of his son. Before he quitted the island of Elba, he had determined to resume the style of Emperor of the French as soon as he landed.

He was aware, that any other title would diminish his strength, and his ascendancy over the people and the army; would render his intentions doubtful; would give rise to scruples and hesitation; and besides, would place him in a state of hostility against France. In short, he was aware, that it would always be in his power to give legitimacy to his title of Emperor of the French, should the suffrages of the nation prove necessary, to restore to him in the eyes of Europe, and even of France, those rights, which might have been temporarily lost by his abdication.

The superior authorities of Gap had retired at his approach: he had to receive the congratulations only of the mayor, the municipal council, and the half-pay officers. He discoursed with them on the benefits of the revolution, the sovereignty of the people, liberty, equality, and particularly of the emigrants and the Bourbons. Before he left them, he addressed his public thanks to the inhabitants of the Upper and Lower Alps, in the following words:

Citizens,

I have been strongly touched by all the sentiments that you have testified towards me: your prayers will be heard; the cause of the nation will still triumph. You have reason to call me your father; I live only for the honour and happiness of France. My return dissipates your disquietudes; it guarantees the preservation of every one's property, the equality of all classes; and those rights, which you have enjoyed for twenty-five years, and for which our forefathers so frequently sighed, now form a part of your existence.

In whatever circumstances I may be placed, I shall always remember, with a lively interest, what I have seen in traversing your country.

""At St. Bonnel the inhabitants, seeing the small number of his soldiers, were full of fears, and proposed to him to sound the alarm-bell, in order to collect the neighbouring villagers, and accompany him in a body. 'No,' said the Emperor, 'your sentiments convince me, that I have not deceived myself; they are a sure guarantee of the sentiments of my soldiers; those whom I meet will range themselves on my side; and the more they are, the more certain will be my success. Remain, therefore, tranquil at home.'""

The same day the Emperor came to sleep at Gorp; General Cambronne and forty men, forming the advanced guard, pushed on as far as Mure.

On quitting the mayor, General Cambronne and his forty grenadiers met a battalion sent from Grenoble to block up their passage. Cambronne wished to parley with them, but they would not listen to him. The Emperor, informed of this resistance, immediately went forward: his guard, exhausted by a long march through the snow and rough roads, had not all been able to follow him; but when it heard of the affront offered to Cambronne, and the dangers the Emperor might run, it forgot its fatigues, and hastened after him. Those soldiers, who could no longer support themselves on their galled or wounded feet, were assisted by their comrades, or carried by them on litters formed with their musquets: all swore, like the soldiers of Fabius, not to conquer or die, but to be victors. When the Emperor perceived them, he held out his hand to them, and said, "With you, my brave soldiers, I should not be afraid of ten thousand men."

Meantime the troops come from Grenoble had retreated, and taken a position three leagues from Gorp, between the lakes, and near a village. The Emperor went to reconnoitre them. He found in the line opposed to him a battalion of the fifth regiment, a company of sappers, and a company of miners; in all seven or eight hundred men. He sent to them chef d'escadron Roul: they refused to listen to him. On this, Napoleon, turning to Marshal Bertrand, said, "Z. has deceived me; no matter, forwards!" Immediately, alighting from his horse, he marched straight to the detachment, followed by his guard, with arms secured (l'arme baissée): "What, my friends!" said he to them, "do you not know me? I am your Emperor: if there be a soldier among you, who is willing to kill his general, his Emperor, he may do it: here I am!" and he placed his hand upon his breast....

The unanimous shout of "Long live the Emperor!" was the answer.

""Immediately they requested permission, to be the first to march against the division, that covered Grenoble. The march commenced amid a crowd of the inhabitants, which increased every instant. Vizille distinguished itself by its enthusiasm: "It is here the revolution is born," said these brave fellows: "we are the first who have dared to claim the privileges of men: it is here, too, that French liberty revives, and that France recovers its honour and independence."

""Between Vizille and Grenoble, an adjutant-major of the seventh of the line came to announce, that Colonel Labedoyère, deeply wounded by the dishonour that affected all France, and governed by the noblest sentiments, had separated from the division of Grenoble, and with his regiment was hastening with all speed to meet the Emperor.""

Soon after, numerous acclamations were heard at a distance: they were from Labedoyère, and the seventh. The two troops, impatient to join, broke their ranks: embraces, and shouts a thousand times repeated, of "The guard for ever! the seventh for ever! long live the Emperor!" became the pledge of their union, and of their sentiments.

Napoleon, who saw his forces and the public enthusiasm increase at every step, resolved to enter Grenoble that very evening.

Before he reached the city he was stopped by a young merchant, an officer of the national guard. "Sire," said he, "I come to offer your Majesty a hundred thousand francs, and my sword."—"I accept both: remain with us." Farther on he was joined by a party of officers, who confirmed to him what he had learned from Labedoyère, that General Marchand and the prefect had declared against him, and that neither the garrison, nor the national guard, had yet displayed any favourable disposition.

""In fact, General Marchand had caused the troops to re-enter Grenoble, and closed the gates: the ramparts were covered by the third regiment of engineers, composed of two thousand sappers, all veterans, covered with honourable scars; by the fourth of artillery of the line, the very regiment in which the Emperor had been made a captain five and twenty years before; then the two battalions of the fifth of the line, and the faithful hussars of the fourth.""

Never did a besieged town exhibit a similar spectacle; the besiegers, with arms reversed, and marching in joyful irregularity, approached the walls singing. No noise of arms, no warlike shouts from the soldiers, rose to affright the air: nothing was heard but repeated acclamations of "Grenoble for ever! France for ever! Napoleon for ever!" no cries but those of the most unrestrained gaiety, and the purest enthusiasm. The garrison, the national guard, the town's-people, spread over the ramparts, beheld at first with surprise, with emotion, these transports of joy and attachment. It was not long before they shared them; and the besiegers and besieged, united by the same thoughts, the same sentiments, uttered at once the rallying words, "Long live the Emperor!" The people and the soldiers repaired to the gates, which were in an instant beaten down, and Napoleon, surrounded, thronged by an idolizing crowd, made his triumphant entry into Grenoble. A few moments after, the people came and brought him the fragments of the gates with trumpets sounding, and said, "For want of the keys of the good town of Grenoble, here are the gates for you."

The possession of this place was of the highest importance to Napoleon: it afforded him a point of support, ammunition, arms, and artillery. He could not conceal his extreme satisfaction, and said repeatedly to his officers, "All is now decided; we are sure of getting to Paris." He questioned Labedoyère at large on the state of Paris, and the situation of France in general. This young colonel, full of the noblest sentiments, expressed himself with a frankness that sometimes staggered Napoleon. "Sire," he said, "the French will do every thing for your Majesty; but then your Majesty must do every thing for them: no more ambition, no more despotism: we are determined to be free and happy. It is necessary, Sire, to renounce that system of conquest and power which occasioned the misfortunes of France, and of yourself."—"If I succeed," answered Napoleon, "I will do every thing requisite to fulfil the expectations of the nation: its happiness is dearer to me than my own: it is to render it free and happy, that I have embarked in an undertaking, which might not succeed, and might cost me my life; but we shall have the consolation of dying in our native land."—"And of dying," added Labedoyère, "for its honour and its liberty."

The Emperor gave orders to have his proclamations printed in the course of the night, and despatched emissaries in every direction to announce his having entered Grenoble; that Austria was for him; that the king of Naples was following him with eighty thousand men; ... and, in short, to discourage, intimidate, and curb, by false alarms and false confidences, the partisans and agents of the regal government.

The proclamations, posted up in abundance, produced the most lively sensation, as at Gap. In fact, never had the national pride, patriotism, and the noblest passions of the mind, been addressed with more fascination, strength, and eloquence. The soldiers and citizens were never tired of reading and admiring them. Every person was desirous of having them. Travellers, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring country, received an immense quantity, which they took upon themselves to spread abroad on their road, and to send to all parts.

The next day, the 8th, the clergy, the staff-officers, the imperial court, the tribunals, and the civil and military authorities, came to acknowledge Napoleon, and to offer him their congratulations. He conversed familiarly with the judges on the administration of justice; with the clergy on what was necessary to public worship; with the soldiery on the armies; with the municipal officers on the sufferings of the people, the towns, and the country places; and delighted them all by the variety of his knowledge, and the benevolence of his intentions. He then said to them: "I knew that France was unhappy; I heard its groans and its reproaches; I am come with the faithful companions of my exile, to deliver her from the yoke of the Bourbons ... their throne is illegitimate ... my rights were conferred on me by the nation, by the unanimous will of the French people: they are no other rights than theirs.... I am come to resume them; not to reign, the throne is nothing to me: not to revenge myself, for I shall forget every thing that has been said, done, or written, since the capitulation of Paris; but to restore to you the rights, which the Bourbons have taken from you, and to emancipate you from the subscription to the glebe, the vassalage, and the feudal system, with which you are threatened by them.... I have been too fond of war; I will make war no more: I will leave my neighbours at rest: we must forget, that we have been masters of the world.... I wish to reign, in order to render our lovely France free, happy, and independent; and to place its happiness on foundations not to be shaken; I wish to be less its sovereign than the first and best of its citizens. I might have come to attack the Bourbons with ships and numerous fleets; but I would have no assistance from Murat or from Austria. I know my fellow citizens, and the defenders of my country, and I reckon on their patriotism."

The audience ended, the Emperor reviewed the garrison, consisting of five or six thousand men. As soon as he appeared, the sky was darkened by the multitude of sabres, bayonets, grenadier-caps, chacos, &c., which the people and the soldiers raised in the air, amid the most lively demonstrations of attachment and love.

He said a few words to the people, which could not be heard, and repaired to the front of the fourth of artillery. "It was among you," said he, "that I began my career in arms. I love you all as old comrades; I have observed you in the field of battle, and I have always been satisfied with your conduct. But I hope, that we shall have no occasion for your guns: France has need of moderation and repose. The army will enjoy, in the bosom of peace, the benefits I have already conferred on it, and those I shall yet bestow. In me the soldiers have found again their father: they may reckon upon the rewards they have deserved."

After this review, the garrison set out on its march to Lyons.

In the evening Napoleon wrote to the Empress and Prince Joseph. He directed him to make known at Rome, at Naples, and at Porto Ferrajo, that his enterprise had every appearance of being crowned with the most speedy and brilliant success. The couriers departed with great noise; and care was taken to make known, that they were carrying to the Empress the news of the Emperor's return, with orders to come immediately, with her son, and join him.

On the 9th the Emperor declared the establishment of the imperial power by three decrees.

The first directed all public acts, and the administration of justice, to be executed in his name from the 15th of March.

The two others organized the national guards of the five departments of the Upper and Lower Alps, la Drôme, Mont Blanc, and the Izère, and entrusted to the honour and patriotism of the inhabitants of the seventh division the fortified towns of Briançon, Grenoble, Fort Barreaux, Colmar, &c.

The moment he set off, he addressed to the inhabitants of the department of the Izère the following proclamation:

Citizens,

When in my exile I learned all the misfortunes, that oppressed the nation; that all the rights of the people were disregarded, and that I was reproached with the state of repose in which I lived: I lost not a moment: I embarked on board a slight vessel, crossed the sea in the midst of ships of war belonging to various nations, landed alone on the shores of our country, and thought of nothing but of arriving with the rapidity of an eagle in this good city of Grenoble, of the patriotism of which, and its personal attachment to me, I was well aware. Men of Dauphiny, you have answered my expectation.

I have endured, not without a wounded heart, but without being dejected, the misfortunes to which for a twelvemonth I have been a prey. The spectacle displayed to my eyes by the people on my journey has inspired me with the most lively emotions. Though a few clouds have altered the high opinion I entertained of the French people, what I have seen has convinced me, that they are still worthy of the name of the Great People, which I gave them twenty years ago.

Men of Dauphiny, about to quit your country, to repair to my good city of Lyons, I could not refrain from expressing to you all the esteem, with which your lofty sentiments have inspired me. My heart is filled with the emotions, that you have excited in it, and I shall never forget them.

On the 8th the Moniteur and other newspapers announced, that Bonaparte had landed with eleven hundred men, most of whom had already deserted him; that he was wandering in the mountains, accompanied only by a few individuals; that he had been refused provision, was in want of every thing, and, pursued and on the point of being surrounded by the troops sent against him from Toulon, Marseilles, Valence, and Grenoble, he must speedily expiate his rash and criminal enterprise.

This news struck all parties with astonishment, and made different impressions on them, according to their different sentiments and opinions.

The discontented had no doubt of the success of the Emperor, and the ruin of the Bourbons.

The courtiers regretted that there was not sufficient danger in this mad and audacious enterprise, to give at least some value to their attachment.

The emigrants looked at it with pity, turned it into ridicule; and, if they had wanted nothing more than jests, abuse, and swaggering, to beat Napoleon, there could have been no doubt of their victory.

The government itself participated in their boasting and security.

Fresh despatches soon made known the progress of Napoleon.

The Count d'Artois, the Duke of Orléans, and Marshal Macdonald, set off hastily for Lyons.

The royalists were uneasy, the government removed their fears.

The Count d'Artois, they said, at the head of fifteen thousand national guards, and ten thousand of the troops of the line, must stop him before Lyons.

General Marchand, General Duverney, the Prince of Essling, and the Duke d'Angoulême, were getting into his rear, and would cut off his retreat.

General Le Courbe was manœuvring on his flanks.

Marshal Oudinot was arriving with his faithful royal grenadiers.

The national guards of Marseilles, and the whole population of the south, were marching from all quarters in pursuit of him; and it was impossible for him to escape.

This was the 10th of March.

The next day an officer of the King's household appeared in the balcony of the Tuileries, and, waving his hat, announced, that the King had just received an official account of the Duke of Orléans, at the head of twenty thousand men of the national guard of Lyons, having attacked Bonaparte on the side towards Bourgoing, and completely beaten him.

The malecontents were in doubt: the royalists were intoxicated.

On the 12th, the victory of the Duke of Orléans was contradicted. The official paper announced, that Bonaparte must have slept at Bourgoing; that he was expected to enter Lyons on the evening of the 10th of March; and that it appeared certain, that Grenoble had not yet opened its gates to him.

The Count d'Artois soon arrived, and confirmed by his return the taking of Lyons, and the inutility of his efforts.

The alarm was renewed.

The King, whose countenance was at the same time dignified and affecting, invoked by eloquent proclamations the attachment of the French, and the courage and fidelity of the army.

The army maintained silence. The judicial bodies, the civil authorities, the order of advocates, and a number of individual citizens, answered the King's appeal by addresses testifying their love and fidelity.

The two chambers equally laid at the foot of the throne the expression of their sentiments: but their language differed.

"Whatever faults may have been committed," said the Chamber of Deputies, "the present is not the moment for inquiring into them. It is the duty of all of us, to unite against the common enemy, and afterwards endeavour, to render this crisis beneficial to the security of the throne and its public liberty."

The King did not stop at empty proclamations. He decreed,

That a new army should be assembled in front of Paris, under the orders of the Duke of Berri and the command of Marshal Macdonald:

That all the soldiers on furlough, or conditionally discharged, should rejoin their corps:

That all the half-pay officers should be called out:

That the three millions of national guards of the kingdom should take up arms, in order to check the factious and disperse their meetings, while the army took the field:

That the young national guards, who were desirous of forming a part of the acting army, should be armed and accoutred, and sent to the parts that were threatened.

That to render useful the services of those brave Frenchmen, who on all sides were demanding to be led against the enemy, battalions of royal volunteers should be formed, and make a part of the army of the Duke of Berri.

Marshal Ney, whose popularity and influence were well known, was appointed to take the command of the troops of the east.

The Duke de Feltre took the place of Marshal Soult.

In short, the King omitted nothing, that could concur in protecting his throne from the dangers, with which it was threatened.

Such measures, sufficient to stop an army of three hundred thousand men, could only attest the success of Napoleon; and yet the ministry daily caused the most encouraging reports to be spread among the people, and confirmed by the newspapers.

M. de Montesquiou, faithful to the system of deception he had adopted, continued to mislead the deputies, cheating them by false intelligence, and lulling them with hopes, which he himself no longer entertained. He knew the intoxication, which was excited in every place by the approach and passage of Napoleon. He knew, that he was master of Grenoble and Lyons; that the troops attempted to be opposed to him had joined his with enthusiasm: and nevertheless he announced to the chamber, "that the population of all the departments invaded by the adventurer of the island of Elba loudly manifested their indignation against this audacious robber; that they may have been surprised, but not subjugated; that all his summonses of places, and the orders he had attempted to issue to the local authorities, had been rejected with firmness; that the Lyonese had displayed the attachment, that was to be expected from their noble character; that the departments of Burgundy, Franche Comté, Lorraine, Champagne, Picardy, &c. &c. rivalled each other in their attachment and energy; that the good disposition of the troops was answerable to that of the citizens; and that all together, generals, officers, soldiers, and citizens, concurred in the defence of their country and of their King."

These political juggleries were not without effect. They satisfied some credulous men, and inflamed the courage and imaginations of a few youths. The enrolments of volunteers were more numerous: a certain number of pupils of the schools of law and physic offered their services, and traversed the streets of Paris, shouting "Long live the King! Down with the Corsican! Down with the tyrant! &c."

This effervescent movement could not be durable; and whatever pains were taken to deceive the metropolis, the truths announced by travellers and private letters opposed these ministerial falsehoods.

The defection of Marshal Ney soon came to tear off the veil, and spread affright and consternation among the ministers and their partisans.

The King repaired to the Chamber of Deputies, in the hope of confirming their attachment, and of dissipating by a solemn oath those doubts of his adherence to the charter, and of his intention to maintain it, which his ministers occasioned. Never was a more imposing and pathetic spectacle exhibited. What heart could steel itself against the sorrows of that august and aged man, against the sound of his mournful voice? Those prophetic words, "I fear nothing for myself, but I fear for France: at sixty years of age can I better close my career, than by dying in defence of the state?" These words of the King excited the most lively emotion, and tears in abundance fell from every eye.

The oath pronounced by the King, to maintain the charter, was immediately repeated by the Count d'Artois, who had hitherto refrained from it. "We swear," said he, "on our honour, I and my family, to live and die faithful to our King, and to the constitutional charter, which assures the happiness of France." But these tardy protestations could not repair the mischief, that the disloyal conduct of the government had done to the Bourbons and their cause.

In vain did the words country, liberty, and constitution, recur in every discourse, and in every proclamation.

In vain was it solemnly promised, that France, as soon as it was delivered, should receive all the securities claimed by the public voice, and that the press should recover perfect freedom.

In vain was the lustre and the prerogative, of which the legion of honour had been despoiled, offered to be restored to it.

In vain were pompous eulogies and brilliant promises lavished on the army.

The time was past.

The minister had robbed the King of confidence, which is the prime agent of the ascendancy of princes over the people; and of strength, which can alone supply the place of confidence, and command fear and obedience.

The approach of Napoleon;

The desertion of Marshal Ney;

The declaration made by those generals, who still retained their fidelity, that the troops would not fight against the Emperor, left the government no doubt of the fate that awaited it.

From that moment there was no longer harmony in their designs, or concert in the means of executing them.

Orders and counter-orders were given on the one hand, and revoked on the other. Schemes of every kind, all equally inconsiderate and impracticable, were approved and rejected, resumed and abandoned.

The same disorder, the same disunion, manifested themselves every where at the same time: there was only one point in which people agreed; that all was lost.

In fact so it was.

The people, whom the nobles had humbled, vexed, or terrified by haughty and tyrannical pretensions;

They who had acquired national domains, whom they had wished to dispossess;

The protestants, who had been sacrificed;

The magistrates, who had been turned out;

The persons in office, who had been reduced to want;

The soldiers, officers, and generals, who had been despised and ill-treated;

The revolutionists, who had been incessantly insulted and menaced;

The friends of justice, and of liberty, who had been abused;

All the French, whom the government had reduced, as it were, in spite of themselves, to wish for another order of things; eagerly embraced the cause of Napoleon, which had become the national cause through the faults of the government.

Royalty had no defenders left but women and their handkerchiefs; priests without influence; nobles without courage; body guards without youth, or without experience.

The legions of the national guard, on which such great reliance had been placed, were reviewed by their colonel-general: he harangued them on the charter, and the tyranny of Bonaparte; he told them, that he would march at their head, and said: "Let those, who love their King, come out from their ranks, and follow me." Scarcely two hundred obeyed the order.

The royal volunteers, who had made so much noise, when they expected to be victors without incurring any peril, had gradually dispersed; and those, whom the approach of danger had neither intimidated nor cooled, were too few to have any weight in the balance.

The government had one sole and last hope remaining: it was, dare I say it? that Napoleon would be assassinated.

The same men who had preached up a civil war, and declared, that it would be shameful not to have one; soiled the walls of Paris with provocations to murder, and fanatic praises bestowed beforehand on murderers. Emissaries, mixing in the various groups of the people, endeavoured to put the poniard into the hands of the new Jacques Clements. A public act had proscribed Napoleon; a reward was publicly offered for his head. This call for a crime, which indignant France first heard from the assassins of Coligny, was repeated by men, who, like them, had the sacred words of morality, humanity, and religion, continually in their mouths, and who, like them, thirsted only after vengeance and blood.

But while they were conspiring at Paris to assassinate Napoleon, he peaceably pursued his triumphant march.

They approached Lyons: the Emperor had sent his emissaries before him, who informed him, that the Count d'Artois, the Duke of Orléans, and Marshal Macdonald, had determined to defend the city, and that they were going to break down the bridges de la Guillotière and Moraud. ""The Emperor laughed at these ridiculous preparations: he could not doubt the disposition of the Lyonese, still less those of the soldiers; yet he gave orders to General Bertrand, to collect boats at the Mirbel, intending to cross the river in the night, and cut off the roads to Moulins and Macon for the Prince, who wanted to prevent his passing the Rhone. At four o'clock a reconnoitring party of the fourth hussars arrived at la Guillotière, and were received with shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" by the immense population of the suburb, that has always been distinguished for its attachment to its country.""

The Emperor immediately countermanded the passage at Mirbel, and desirous of availing himself of this first enthusiastic movement, as at Grenoble, galloped forward to the suburb of Guillotière.

The Count d'Artois, less fortunate, could not even succeed in opposing to his adversary a shadow of defence.

He was desirous of destroying the bridges, but the city opposed it.

Marshal Macdonald, however, who was well known to the troops, had succeeded in barricading the bridge of la Guillotière, and led two battalions of infantry thither in person; when the hussars of Napoleon came out from the suburb, and presented themselves before the bridge, preceded, surrounded, and followed, by all the youth of the place.

The marshal restrained the soldiers a few minutes: but moved, seduced, borne away, by the incitements of the people and the hussars, they rushed to the barricadoes, burst them, and were quickly in the arms and in the ranks of the soldiers of Napoleon.

At five in the evening the whole garrison rushed out to meet Napoleon.

An hour after, the imperial army took possession of the city.

At seven Napoleon made his solemn entry, proceeding alone before his troops, but preceded and followed by an immense crowd, expressing, by incessant acclamations, the intoxication, happiness, and pride, they felt at seeing him again. He alighted at the archbishop's palace, and quietly took his rest in the very places, which the Count d'Artois, yielding to despair, had just watered with his tears.

Napoleon immediately entrusted the guarding of his person, and the interior charge of the palace, to the national guard. He would not accept the services of the horse-guards. "Our institutions," said he to them, "know nothing of national guards on horseback; besides, you behaved so ill with the Count d'Artois, that I will have nothing to say to you."

In fact the Emperor, who had always respected misfortune, had made inquiries concerning the Count d'Artois on his arrival; and had learned, that the nobles, of whom the horse-guards were chiefly composed, after having sworn to the prince to die for him, had deserted him; one excepted, who remained faithfully attached to his escort, till the moment he thought his life and liberty out of all danger.

The Emperor did not confine himself to commendation of the conduct of this generous Lyonese. "I never left a noble action," said he, "without reward:" and he appointed him a member of the Legion of Honour.

The next day he reviewed the division of Lyons in Bellecour Square. "I shall see that square again with pleasure," said he, to the chiefs of the national guard, who stood round him: "I remember, that I raised it from its ruins, and laid the first stone of it fifteen years ago." He went out merely preceded by a few hussars. A crowd of men, old men, women and children, thronged the bridges, the quays, and the streets. They rushed under the horses' feet to hear him, to see him, to have a closer view of him, to touch his garments ... it was an actual delirium. Scarcely had he proceeded a few steps, when the crowd, that had already seen him, ran to another spot, to see him again. The air rung with uninterrupted acclamations. It was a rolling volley of "The nation for ever! The Emperor for ever! Down with the priests! Down with the royalists!" &c.

The division of Brayer, as soon as reviewed, set out on its march to Paris.

When the Emperor returned to the archiepiscopal palace, the great gallery was crowded with generals, colonels, magistrates, and public officers of all ranks and kinds. You might have thought yourselves in the Tuileries.

The Emperor stopped a few minutes: he embraced Generals Mouton Duvernay, Girard, and other officers, whom Paris supposed to be in pursuit of him; and after having distributed on the right and left a few smiles and many compliments, he proceeded to his saloon, and admitted to be presented to him the imperial court, the municipal body, and the chiefs of the military corps and the national guard.

He conversed a long time with them on the faults of the Bourbons, and the deplorable situation in which he found France. He confessed to them with noble frankness, that he was not altogether inculpable for its misfortunes. "I was hurried on," said he, "by the course of events, into a wrong path. But, taught by experience, I have abjured that love of glory, so natural to the French, which has had such fatal consequences to them and to me.... I was mistaken in supposing, that the time was arrived for rendering France the metropolis of a great empire: I have renounced for ever that grand enterprise; we have enough of glory, we want repose.

"It is not ambition, that has brought me back to France: it is the love of the country. I could have preferred the tranquillity of the island of Elba to the cares of a throne, had I not known, that France was unhappy, and had need of me.

"On setting foot on our dear France," continued he, after a few unimportant answers from his auditors, "I made a vow to render it free and happy: I bring nothing to it but benefits. I am returned to protect and defend those interests, to which our revolution has given birth: I return to concur with the representatives of the nation in a family compact, that shall preserve for ever the liberty and the rights of every Frenchman: henceforward it will be my ambition, and my glory, to effect the happiness of the great people from whom I hold every thing. I will not, like Louis XVIII., grant you a revocable charter; I will give you an inviolable constitution, and it shall be the work of the people, as well as of myself."

Such were his words. He pronounced them with an air of such satisfaction, he appeared so confident of himself and of the future, that a man would have thought himself criminal to suspect the purity of his intentions, or to doubt the happiness he was about to secure to France.

The language he held at Lyons we perceive was not the same, as that he had uttered at Gap and at Grenoble. In the last-mentioned towns he sought principally to excite in men's minds hatred of the Bourbons, and the love of liberty: he had spoken as a citizen, rather than a monarch. No formal declaration, not a single word, revealed his intentions. It might as well have been supposed, that he thought of restoring the republic, or the consulship, as the empire. At Lyons, there was no longer any thing vague, any thing uncertain: he spoke as a sovereign, and promised to give a national constitution. The idea of the Champ de Mai had recurred to him.

Not one of us suspected the sincerity of the promises and resolves of Napoleon.

Time, reflection, misfortune, the grand teacher of mankind, had effected the most favourable changes in the principles of Napoleon.

Formerly, when unforeseen obstacles arose, suddenly to thwart his projects, his passions, accustomed to no restraint, to respect no bridle, burst forth with the fury of a raging sea: he spoke, he ordered, he decided, as if he had been master of the earth and of the elements; nothing appeared to him impossible.

After his reverse of fortune, he had learned in the calm of solitude and meditation, to control the violence of his will, and to subject it to the yoke of reason and prudence. He had read attentively the writings, pamphlets, and even libels, published against him: and amid the revilings, calumnies, and absurdities, which they frequently contained, he had found useful truths, judicious observations, and profound views, of which he knew how to benefit himself.

"Princes," observes the learned author of the Spirit of Laws, "have in their lives periods of ambition to which other passions, and even indolence, succeed." Napoleon's hour of indolence was not yet come: but to the ambition of increasing his power without limit, had succeeded the desire of rendering France happy, and of repairing by a durable peace, and a paternal government, all the evils that had been brought upon it by war.

The Emperor spent the evening of the 11th in his closet: his first thought was for the Empress. He wrote her a very tender letter, which began with these remarkable words. "Madam and dear wife, I have re-ascended my throne."

He appeared to set a particular value on the alliance of Russia. His predilection was founded, no doubt, on political motives not difficult to guess; yet I believe he was equally induced to it by Alexander's generous conduct towards the French. The popularity and renown, which this prince had acquired in France, excited, and could not but excite, the jealousy of Napoleon: but this jealousy, the attribute of great minds, did not render him unjust; he knew how to estimate Alexander.

Hitherto Napoleon has been engaged only in depriving the King of his army; he now thought the time was come, to take from him also the sceptre of civil government. "On this I have resolved," said he to me: "I will now annihilate the royal authority, and dismiss the chambers. Since I have resumed the government, no authority but mine ought to exist. The public must be taught from this moment, that they are to obey me alone." He then dictated to me in succession the following decrees, known by the name of the decrees of Lyons.

Lyons, 13th of March, 1815.

Napoleon, Emperor of the French, &c. &c.

Considering, that the Chamber of Peers is partly composed of persons who have borne arms against France, and who are interested in the re-establishment of feudal rights, in the destruction of the equality of the different classes, in the nullification of the sale of the national domains, and finally in depriving the people of the rights they have acquired by fighting for five and twenty years against the enemies of the national glory:

Considering, that the powers of the deputies of the legislative body have expired, and that from that moment the Chamber of Commons has no longer a national character; that a part of this chamber has rendered itself unworthy the confidence of the nation, by assenting to the re-establishment of the feudal nobility, abolished by the constitution accepted by the people; by making France pay debts contracted with foreign powers for negotiating coalitions, and paying armies, against the French people; by giving to the Bourbons the title of legitimate King, which was declaring the French people and the armies rebels, proclaiming those emigrants, who for five and twenty years have been wounding the vitals of their country, the only good Frenchmen, and violating all the rights of the people, by sanctioning the principle, that the nation is made for the throne, not the throne for the nation:

We have decreed, and do decree, as follows:

Article I.

The Chamber of Peers is dissolved.

Article II.

The Chamber of Commons is dissolved: it is ordered, that every one of the members convened and arrived at Paris since the 7th of March last shall repair to his home without delay.

Article III.

The electoral colleges of the departments of the empire shall assemble at Paris in the course of the month of May next, in order to take proper measures for correcting and modifying our constitutions agreeably to the interests and will of the nation; and at the same time to assist at the coronation of the Empress, our dear and well-beloved wife, and that of our dear and well-beloved son.

Article IV.

Our Grand Marshal, executing the functions of Major-general of the grand army, is appointed to take necessary measures for making public the present decree.

SECOND DECREE.

Napoleon, &c.

Article I.

All the emigrants, whose names have not been erased, amnestied, or eliminated, by us, or by the governments that have preceded us; and who have returned to France since the 1st of January, 1814, shall immediately quit the territory of the empire.

Article II.

Those emigrants, who shall be found in the territory of the empire fifteen days after the promulgation of the present decree, shall be arrested and tried conformably to the laws decreed by our national assemblies: unless however it be proved, that they had no knowledge of the present decree; in which case, they shall merely be arrested, and conducted out of the territory by the gendarmerie.

Article III.

All their property, moveable and immoveable, &c. &c. shall be placed in sequestration.

THIRD DECREE.

Napoleon, &c.

Article I.

The nobility is abolished, and the laws of the Constituent Assembly shall be put in force.

Article II.

Feudal titles are suppressed.

Article III.

Those individuals, who have obtained from us national titles, as national rewards, and whose letters patent have been verified before the council by the seal of state, shall continue to bear them.

Article IV.

We reserve to ourselves the power of giving titles to the descendants of those men, who have rendered the French name illustrious in various ages, whether in the command of armies by land and sea, in the councils of sovereigns, in the administration of justice or of civil authority, or finally in the arts and sciences, commerce, &c.

FOURTH DECREE.

Napoleon, &c.

Article I.

All those generals and officers by land and sea, of whatever rank, who have been introduced into our armies since the 1st of April, 1814, who had emigrated; or who, not having emigrated, had quitted the service at the period of the first coalition, when the country had the greatest need of their services; shall immediately cease their functions, relinquish the marks of their rank, and repair to their homes, &c. &c.

FIFTH DECREE.

Napoleon, &c.

Considering, that by our constitutions the members of the judicial order are not removable, we decree:

Article I.

All the arbitrary changes made in our inferior tribunals and courts are null, and to be considered as having never taken place.

Article II.

The presidents of the court of cassation, our procureur-général (attorney-general), and the members who have been unjustly, and from a spirit of reaction, dismissed from the said court, are restored to their functions, &c. &c.

By four other decrees the Emperor ordered, that the property of the Bourbon family should be placed in sequestration.

That all the property of emigrants, which belonged to the Legion of Honour, hospitals, communes, the sinking fund, or the national domains, should be restored to these different establishments.

That the King's household and the Swiss should be dismissed, and that no foreign corps should be admitted as a guard to the sovereign.

And that the decoration of the lily, and the orders of St. Louis, the Holy Ghost, and St. Michael, should be abolished.

These decrees, which embraced at once every part of the political, civil, and military administration of the state, succeeded each other so rapidly, that Napoleon had scarcely time to interpose a few words between them.

By restoring to their seats those magistrates, who had been expelled from them, he gained with a stroke of the pen all the members of the judicial order; but I know not why he did not extend this beneficial measure to the functionaries of the administrative order, particularly to the prefects and sub-prefects, whom M. de Montesquiou had so cruelly persecuted. Among these functionaries there were unquestionably some, who, from the weakness or incapacity they had shown during the last moments of the imperial government, merited no confidence: but the greater part of them had remained worthy of it; and Napoleon, by placing them at the head of their former offices, would have added to the advantage of publicly repairing an act of royal injustice, that of entrusting the administration to experienced men, and who, already knowing the partisans of the revolution and those of the Bourbons, had only to show themselves, to intimidate the latter, and render effective the patriotism of the former.

With this exception, every thing he did at Lyons appeared to me a master-piece of wisdom and address.

It was necessary, to overturn the Chamber of Peers: he did it at one stroke. "It is composed," said he, "only of men who have borne arms against their country, and who are interested in restoring feudal rights, and annulling the national sales."

The Chamber of Deputies had shown some resistance to the ministers, and attachment to liberal doctrines; it was difficult, therefore, to render it unpopular, yet the Emperor did it by a word: "It has shown itself unworthy of the confidence of the nation, by making the people pay debts contracted with foreigners for the shedding of French blood."

It was necessary, to remove the apprehensions of France respecting the future: he called the electors to the Champ de Mai. It was necessary, to excite the belief, that he had a good understanding with Austria, and that Maria Louisa would be restored to him: he announced the approaching coronation of the Empress and her son.

It was necessary, to seduce the patriots, the republicans: he abolished the feudal nobility; and declared, that the throne was made for the nation, not the nation for the throne. It was necessary, to tranquillize those, who had acquired national domains; he expelled the emigrants not erased from the lists, and resumed their property: to please the peasantry and the poor, he restored to the hospitals the property of which they had been despoiled: to flatter the guard and the army, he expelled from their ranks foreigners and emigrants, dismissed the King's household, and restored to the Legion of Honour its endowments and prerogatives.

Men may censure his conduct at Lyons; may represent it as that of a madman, resolved to alter, to destroy, to overturn every thing: no matter ... they who judge with impartiality, I believe, will find, that he conducted himself with all the skill of a consummate politician. He knew how to inspire confidence, dissipate apprehensions, confirm attachments, and fill the people and the army with enthusiasm: what could he do more?

The steps taken at Paris against him were known to him on the 12th. He appeared delighted, that a command was given to Marshal Ney; not that he held any intelligence with him; but because he knew the weakness and fickleness of his character. He directed the Grand Marshal to write to him. "You will inform him," said he, "of the delirium excited by my return, and of all the forces sent against me having joined my army in succession. You will tell him, that the troops under his command will infallibly follow the example of their brave comrades, sooner or later: and that the efforts he might make would have no farther effect, than at most to retard the fall of the Bourbons a few days. Give him to understand, that he will be responsible to France, and to me, for the civil war and bloodshed, of which he would be the cause. Flatter him," added the Emperor, "but do not caress him too much; he would think me afraid of him, and require to be entreated."

Letters were written also to all the commanders of corps, that were known to be quartered in the neighbouring departments. None of them were in a supplicatory style: the Emperor already spoke as a master; he did not entreat, he commanded.

Every thing being finished, on the 13th Napoleon departed; and profoundly moved with the affection the Lyonese had shown him, he bade them adieu in the following words:

"Lyonese,

"At the moment of quitting your city to repair to my capital, I feel it necessary, to make known to you the sentiments with which you have inspired me: you have always ranked with the foremost in my affections. On the throne or in exile, you have always displayed the same feelings towards me: the lofty character that distinguishes you, has merited my entire esteem: in a period of greater tranquillity, I shall return, to consider the welfare of your manufactures, and of your city.

"Lyonese, I love you."

These last words were the ingenuous expression of his feelings: in dictating, he pronounced them with that indefinable charm, that was impressed on his words when they came from the heart.

So much has been said of the hardness of Napoleon's heart, and the harshness of his language, that whatever is at variance with the received opinion must appear fabulous. Yet it is a truth, and they who have been about the Emperor's person will vouch for it, that he was far from being so unfeeling, as he was commonly thought. His military education, and the necessity of commanding fear and respect, had rendered him grave, severe, and inflexible; and had accustomed him, to check and despise the suggestions of his sensibility. But when nature resumed her rights, he felt a delight in yielding to the movements of his soul, and he then expressed the emotions or sentiments, that had overpowered him, in an ardent and impassioned tone, and with a sweetness and grace, as seducing as it was inimitable.

The national guard, affected by the confidence he had shown it, by entrusting to it the care of his person, participated with equal ardour the general intoxication; and the day of Napoleon's departure was a day of sorrow and regret to the city of Lyons, as that of his arrival had been a day of real festivity.

We slept at Macon. The Emperor would not alight at the prefect's, but went to lodge at the sign of the Savage. He found it was no longer necessary, to wait at the gates of the towns, as at Grenoble and Lyons: the people and the magistrates ran out to meet him, and disputed the honour of being foremost, to do him homage, and express their good wishes.

The next morning he received the felicitations of the national guard, the municipal body, &c. One of the colleagues of the mayor gave us a long, ridiculous harangue, which amused us much. When he had finished, the Emperor said to him: "You were much astonished, then, at hearing of our having landed?"—"Yes, faith:" answered the orator: "when I knew you had landed, I said to every body, the man must be mad, he will never be able to escape."—Napoleon could not help laughing at this simplicity. "I know," said he, with a sarcastic smile, "that you are all a little inclined to be frightened; you gave me a proof of this last campaign; you should have behaved as the men of Chalons did; you did not maintain the honour of the Burgundians."—"It was not our fault, Sire," said one of the party: "we were badly commanded; you had not given us a good mayor."—"That is very possible; we have all been guilty of foolish actions, and they must be forgotten: the safety and happiness of France are henceforward the only objects, to which we ought to attend." He dismissed them in a friendly manner.

The prefect had taken flight. The Emperor asked me his name. It was one Germain, whom he had made a count, and a gentleman of the bedchamber, without well knowing why. "What!" said he to me, "does that little Germain fancy it necessary to shun me? he must be brought back:" and he thought no more of him.

He directed me, to cause an account of the events at Grenoble and Lyons to be inserted in the newspaper of the department. The editor, a furious royalist, had hidden himself. I entrusted to the new subprefect the business of fulfilling the Emperor's orders; but, whether it were carelessness or incapacity on his part, he had recourse to the printer of the paper, who supplied him with an article far from answering our views.

It began with a very just, but ill-timed eulogy of the goodness of Louis XVIII.; and ended with declaring in substance, that so good a king was not fitted to reign over the French, and that they required a sovereign such as Napoleon, &c.

The Emperor, who would read every thing, asked me for the paper. I pretended I could not lay my hand upon it: but, after a thousand attempts to put him off from seeing it, I was at length obliged to bring it him. I thought he would have given me a severe reprimand, but he contented himself with saying: "Change that man, he is a fool; and desire him for the future, never to attempt a eulogy of me." I sent for him, scolded him, and, like me, he was let off for the fright.

It was at Macon, that we first received official news of what was going on at Paris. It was brought us by M. ***. The unskilful manner in which the royalist party superintended the police of the roads, was truly astonishing. Not one of its emissaries escaped us, while ours went and came without any obstruction. Rage or fear must have turned the brains of all the royalists. M. *** assured the Emperor, that the national guard appeared determined to defend the king, and that the king had declared, he would not quit the Tuileries. "If he choose to wait for me there," said Napoleon, "I have no objection: but I doubt it much. He suffers himself to be lulled by the boastings of the emigrants; and when I get within twenty leagues of Paris, they will abandon him, as the nobles of Lyons abandoned the Count d'Artois. What indeed could he do with the old puppets that are about him? One of our grenadiers would knock down a hundred of them with the butt-end of his musket.... The national guard shouts at a distance; when I am at the barriers it will be silent. Its business is not to raise a civil war, but to maintain peace and order in the country. The majority is sound; there is nothing rotten in it but a few officers; and them I will expel. Return to Paris; tell my friends not to implicate themselves, and within ten days my grenadiers will mount guard at the Tuileries: go."

We arrived at Chalons on the 14th, at an early hour. It was terrible weather, yet the whole population had come out of the city, to see the Emperor a few minutes the sooner. On approaching the walls, he perceived artillery and ammunition waggons, and was surprised at it. "They were intended," said the people, "to act against you; but we have stopped them on their way, and present them to you."—"That's right, my lads; you have always been good citizens."

I repaired immediately to the municipality, where I found the mayor, and a few municipal counsellors. He appeared to me a man of merit. I informed him, that it was my usual office, to introduce to his Majesty the municipal authorities; that I had observed with surprise, he had not been as eager as the mayors of other cities, to pay his duty to the Emperor; and that I was come to remove his fears, &c. He answered me frankly, that he had great respect and admiration for Napoleon; but, having sworn fealty to Louis XVIII., he thought it his duty to keep his oath, till he was absolved from it. I had my answer ready. "I, like you," said I, "consider perjury as the most degrading act, of which man can be guilty. But it is necessary, to make a distinction between a voluntary oath, and the stipulated oath, which people take to their government. In the eye of reason, this oath is merely an act of local submission; a pure and simple formality, which the monarch, whoever he may be, has a right to require of his subjects; but which cannot, as it ought not, enchain their persons and faith to perpetuity. France, since 1789, has sworn by turns to be faithful to royalty, to the convention, to the republic, to the directory, to the consulship, to the empire, to the charter: if those Frenchmen, who had taken an oath to royalty, had sought to oppose the establishment of a republic, by way of acquitting themselves of their oaths; if those, who had taken an oath to the republic, had opposed the establishment of the empire, &c.; into what a state of anarchy and disorder, into what a deluge of blood and evils, would they not have plunged our unhappy country? On similar occasions, the national will ought to be the sole guide of our conscience and our actions: the moment it is manifested, it is the duty of good citizens, to yield and obey."

"These principles," replied he, "may be very good as a general rule; but our present case is an exception, never before known. When the governments, that have existed since the revolution, were overturned, the new government seized the authority, and it ought to be presumed, that the assent of the nation was on its side: but here it is a different affair; the royal government subsists; the Emperor abdicated voluntarily; and till the king has renounced the crown, I shall consider him as the sovereign of France."

"If you wait for the king's renunciation," rejoined I, "before you acknowledge the Emperor, you will wait a long time. Has not the king pretended, that he has not ceased to reign over France these five-and-twenty years? And if he thought himself sovereign of France at a time, when the imperial government was rendered legitimate by the unanimous suffrages of France, and acknowledged by all Europe, do you think he will renounce the crown at present?

"The time when kings reigned in virtue of right divine is far removed from us: their rights are no longer founded on any thing but the formal or tacit consent of nations: the moment nations reject them, the contract is broken; the conditional oaths taken to them are annulled in law and in fact, without their intervention or consent being necessary; for, as the proclamations of Napoleon say, kings are made for the people, not the people for kings.

"As to the abdication of Napoleon, whether voluntary or compulsive, and the rights newly acquired by Louis XVIII., it would be requisite, in order to answer this part of your objections, to inquire, whether the chief of a nation have a right to relinquish the authority entrusted to him, without the consent of that nation; and whether a government imposed by foreigners, either through influence or force of arms, unite those characters of legitimacy, which you ascribe to it. I have read in our publicists, that we owe obedience to a government de facto: and since the Emperor has in fact resumed the sceptre, I think we cannot do better, than submit to his laws; with the proviso," added I jocularly, "of leaving to posterity the task of deciding the question of right between Napoleon and Louis XVIII.

"However," continued I, "I leave you perfectly at liberty to embrace which side you judge best: it is not my intention to take you by surprise, or to put any violence on your conscience; and I beg you to consider the attempts I have made to convince you, only as a proof of my desire to bring you over to my opinion by the force of reason."

"Well, sir," said he, "I yield to your observations: be so good as to announce me to his Majesty."

The next day he was displaced!

On the 16th we slept at Avalon. Napoleon was received there as he had been every where; that is to say, with demonstrations of joy, that were actually bordering on madness. People crowded, thronged, to see, to hear, to speak to him; his quarters were instantly surrounded, besieged, by such a numerous and obstinate multitude, that it was impossible for us to enter or go out, without walking on the heads of all the population of the country. Those men who made part of the national guard would remain on duty from morning to night. Women of the greatest distinction in the place spent the day and night on the stairs and in the passages, to watch for his going by. Three of them, tired with standing the whole day for want of seats, requested permission to sit down by us: it was in the hall (adjoining the Emperor's chamber), in which some mattresses had been laid on the floor, in order that we might gain a few minutes' rest. It was pleasant enough, to see these three young and elegant Bonapartists timidly huddling together on a little couch in the midst of our dirty guardroom. We endeavoured to keep them company but our eyes closed in spite of us. "Go to sleep," said they to us, "we will watch over the Emperor." In fact, fatigue got the better of gallantry; and, to our shame be it spoken, we were soon asleep at their feet. When we awoke, we found one of these ladies keeping guard at Napoleon's door. We heard of it, and thanked her for her attachment, in very polite and pleasing terms.

On the 17th the Emperor arrived at Auxerre, where he was received for the first time by a prefect. He alighted at the prefect's house. On the mantel-piece of the first saloon were the busts of the Empress, and of her son; and in the next was a whole-length portrait of Napoleon, in his imperial robes: it might have been supposed, that the reign of the Emperor had never been interrupted.

He wrote to the Empress for the third time. This letter finished, Napoleon turned his thoughts to the means of embarking a part of his army, harassed by forced marches. He sent for the chief of the boat department, required an account of the number of boats, the means of preventing accidents, &c. He entered so minutely into particulars with him, that the man could scarcely recover from his surprise, or comprehend how an Emperor should know so much as a boatman. Napoleon persisted in the speedy departure of his troops. Several times he ordered me to go and hasten the embarkation: he was in the habit of employing those about him for every thing that came into his head. His genius knowing no bounds, he imagined, that we poor mortals ought equally to know every thing, and do every thing.

The Emperor had given orders to his scouts, to bring him all the mails; and he had appointed me, to examine their contents. I waged implacable war with the correspondence of ministers; and if I frequently found in it threats and abuse, of which I came in for my share, it presented me at least with matters as important as curious. I particularly remarked two secret instructions, the publication of which, even now, would cover their authors with eternal disgrace. The letters comme il faut were equally revolting. Most of them, dictated by frantic hatred, might have sanctioned the rigours of the law: but I considered them as the offspring of brains to be pitied for their diseased state, and contented myself with writing on them in large letters, before I returned to the post-boy, a Seen; which, like the head of Medusa, no doubt petrified more than one noble reader.

The darksome conspiracies of the enemies of Napoleon were not the only objects, that met my indiscreet eyes. Sometimes I found myself unintentionally initiated into gentler mysteries and my pen, by mistake, traced the fatal Seen at the bottom of epistles, which should have charmed the sight only of the happy mortals, for whom love had destined them.

It was from the newspapers, and the private correspondence, we learned, that some Vendeans were set off from Paris, according to their own account, with the design of assassinating the Emperor. A paper, which it is unnecessary to name, even said, that these gentlemen were disguised as soldiers, and as women, and that most assuredly the Corsican could not escape them.

Though Napoleon did not appear to be uneasy about these criminal plots, we were under apprehensions for him. Previously, when travellers were desirous of telling him news, I stepped aside to enjoy a few minutes' liberty: but from that time I never quitted him, and, with my hand on my sword, I never for a moment lost sight of the eyes, attitude, and gesture of the persons I admitted to his presence.

Count Bertrand, General Drouot, and the officers of his household, equally redoubled their care and attention. But it seemed as if the Emperor made a point of setting his murderers at defiance. That very day he reviewed the 14th of the line in the public square, and afterwards mixed with the people and the soldiers. In vain did we endeavour to surround him; we were jostled with so much perseverance and impetuosity, that it was impossible for us to remain close to him for two minutes together. The way in which we were elbowed amused him extremely: he laughed at our efforts, and, in order to brave us, plunged himself still deeper amid the crowd that besieged us.

Our mistrust was nearly fatal to two of the enemy's emissaries.

One of them, a staff officer, came to offer us his services. Being questioned, he scarcely knew what answers to make. His embarrassment had already excited violent suspicions, when it was unfortunately perceived, that he had on green pantaloons. This was sufficient to convince every body, that he was one of the Artois guards in disguise. Interrogated anew, he answered still more awkwardly; and, attainted and convicted of being a highly suspicious person, and of wearing green pantaloons to boot, he was on the point of being thrown out of the window, when fortunately Count Bertrand happened to pass by, and ordered him merely to be turned out at the door.

This officer of the new batch had not come to kill Napoleon; he had only been sent to spy what passed at his head-quarters.

The same day witnessed another scene. A chef d'escadron of hussars, adorned with a sabre-cut in the face, came also to join us. He met an extraordinarily good reception, and was even invited to breakfast at the table of the great officers of the household. In wine there is truth; and the new comer, forgetting his part, explained himself so clearly, that it was easy to distinguish in him a false brother. He told us, that the national guard of Paris, and all the imperial guard, were for the King: that every soldier, who retained his fidelity, had a gift of a hundred francs, every officer a thousand, and was promoted a step, &c. &c; that Napoleon had been outlawed, and that if he were taken.... At these words Colonel ***, who sat next him, seized him by the collar; every body was for knocking him on the head at once; I alone was against it. "Gentlemen," said I, "the Emperor will not hear of any blood being shed; you have sworn to give no quarter to assassins, but this man is not one; he is no doubt a spy. We are not afraid of them; let them go, and report what they have seen to those who have sent them: let us all drink the health of our Emperor, Long live the Emperor!" He was spitten upon, turned out, and we saw him no more.

Another deserter from the royal army presented himself, to reveal an important secret, as he said, to the Emperor. The Emperor, who knew no secret but strength, would not waste time in listening to him, and sent him to me. He was an officer of hussars, the friend and accomplice of Maubreuil. He did not think me worthy of his secrets, and I introduced him to the grand Marshal. The substance of what he said was, that he, as well as Maubreuil, had been commissioned by the provisional government, and by very great persons, to assassinate the Emperor, at the time of his departure for the island of Elba: that he held in execration such an execrable crime, and would not commit it; and that, after having once saved the life of Napoleon, he came to place himself near his person, to make a rampart for him with his body in case of necessity. He delivered to the grand Marshal a memorial of Maubreuil's, and divers papers, of which the Emperor directed me to give him an account. I examined them all with the greatest care. They proved incontestably, that mysterious rendezvous had been given to Maubreuil in the name of the provisional government; but they contained no clue, that could enable any one to penetrate the object and end of these secret conferences: the names of those illustrious personages, whom some persons have since been desirous of implicating in this odious plot, were not even mentioned in them. This officer reaped no benefit from his disclosures, real or pretended, and disappeared.

Ministers of the King, guilty authors of the parricidal ordinance of the 6th of March, read this and blush!

The moment he was quitting Auxerre, the Emperor heard, that the Marseillese appeared to have an intention of annoying his rear. He gave orders to the general posted in échelon on the road, and set out without fear.

In advance of Fossard, he perceived, drawn up in order of battle, the dragoons of the King's regiment, who had deserted their officers, to come and join him. He alighted, saluted them with that military gravity, which so well became him, and bestowed on them compliments and promotions. No regiment could escape us. When the officers demurred, the soldiers came without them. I am wrong, however: there was one regiment, the third of hussars, that the Emperor could not bring over to him. The brave Moncey, who commanded it, was a man of sound understanding, and his attachment to Napoleon, his ancient benefactor, could not be doubted: but all men do not see with the same eyes; some made their duty consist in running to meet Napoleon, Moncey thought himself obliged to avoid him.

He had conjured his regiment, not to subject him to the disgrace of being deserted. His officers and his hussars, by whom he was adored, followed him, while they made the air ring with shouts of Long live the Emperor! thinking thus to reconcile their respect for their colonel with their devotion to the cause and person of Napoleon.

We were informed on the road, that two thousand of the body guards were posted in the forest of Fontainbleau. Though this account was improbable, it was thought necessary, not to cross the forest without precaution. At our urgent solicitation, the Emperor took about two hundred horse to accompany him. Hitherto his only escort had been the carriage of General Drouot, which preceded his, and mine, which closed the march. Colonels Germanouski and Du Champ, Captain Raoul, and three or four Polanders, galloped by the side of them. Our horses, our postillions, our couriers, with tricoloured ribands, gave our peaceable party an air of festivity and happiness, that formed a singular contrast to the proscription suspended over our heads, and to the mourning and despair of the men who had proscribed us.

I had imagined, that the sight of the palace of Fontainbleau, the place where he had so lately descended from the throne, and where he now re-appeared as conqueror and sovereign, would make some impression on him, and impel him to think of the fragility of human grandeur. I watched him attentively; but he did not appear to me, to experience any emotion. Immediately on his arrival, he rambled over the gardens and the palace with as much pleasure and curiosity, as if he came to take possession of them for the first time. Napoleon occupied the little apartments, and complaisantly made me notice their extreme elegance. He then led me to his library, and in going up, said with an air of satisfaction, "We shall be very well here."—"Yes, sire," answered I, "people are always well at home." He smiled, and I believe was pleased with my well-timed compliment.

At eleven o'clock he dictated to me the orders of the day; and these orders announced, that we should sleep at Essonne. It was not till noon, that the news of the King's departure was brought at once by a courier from M. de Lavalette, by a letter from Madame Hamalin, and by M. de Ség.... He sent for me immediately. "You will set out first," he said, "to get every thing ready."—"It is to Essonne, I presume, your Majesty orders me to repair?"—"No, to Paris. The King and the Princes have fled. I shall be at the Tuileries this evening." He gave me some secret directions, and I quitted Fontainbleau with a heart full of happiness and joy. I had never doubted Napoleon's triumph; but from hope to reality how great the distance!

In fact the King had quitted Paris.

The aspect of affairs had never changed since the royal session of the 17th of March. The minister, persevering in his system of falsehood and dissimulation, still distorted the truth with the same impudence, and did not cease to predict the approaching destruction of Napoleon and his adherents. At length, after a thousand subterfuges, it became necessary to confess, that Napoleon was within a few leagues of Paris. The King, whom the minister had not been afraid to deceive, had scarcely time to think of retreating. In this painful situation, he displayed a strength of mind above all praise. His courage was not that of a warlike prince, who defends his capital inch by inch, and trembles with rage and despair when forced to quit it; but that of a good father, who separates himself with regret from his children, and from the roof under which they were born. The Bonapartists themselves, who made a great distinction between the king and his family, were not insensible to the tears of that august and unfortunate monarch, and sincerely prayed, that his flight might be exempted from danger and trouble.

It was supposed, that Napoleon would make a triumphal entry into his capital. His old grenadiers, who had marched in seventeen days a distance that would commonly require five-and-forty, seemed, as they approached their object, to acquire fresh strength at every step. On the road you might see them in agitation, pressing upon and encouraging one another. They would have marched twenty leagues in an hour, if necessary, not to be deprived of the honour of entering Paris by the side of Napoleon. Their hopes were disappointed: the Emperor, who had witnessed their fatigues, ordered them to take a day's rest at Fontainbleau.

At two o'clock on the 20th of March, Napoleon set out for Paris. Retarded by the crowd, that accumulated on his way, and by the felicitations of the troops and the generals, who had run to meet him, he could not reach it till nine in the evening. As soon as he alighted, the people rushed on him; a thousand arms lifted him up, and carried him along in triumph. Nothing could be more affecting than the confused assembly of the crowd of officers and generals, who had pressed into the apartments of the Tuileries at the heels of Napoleon. Happy to see themselves once more triumphant, after so many vicissitudes, humiliations, and disgusts, they forgot the majesty of the place, to give themselves up without constraint to the desire of expressing their happiness and joy. They ran to one another, and hugged each other again and again. The halls of the palace seemed metamorphosed into a field of battle, where friends, brothers, unexpectedly escaped from death, found and embraced one another after victory.

We had been so spoiled on the road, however, that the Emperor's reception by the Parisians did not answer our expectations. Multiplied shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" saluted him on his way; but they wanted those characters of unanimity and frenzy, which were displayed by the acclamations, that had accompanied him from the gulf of Juan to the gates of Paris. It would be a mistake, however, to infer, that the Parisians did not behold the return of Napoleon with pleasure. We must only conclude, therefore, that the Emperor missed the proper time for his entrance.

The people of great cities are eager for sights: to move their hearts, you must astonish their eyes. If Napoleon, instead of traversing Paris in the evening, and without being announced or expected, had put it off till the next day, and allowed the disquietudes inseparable from such a crisis time to be allayed; if he had given his entrance the pomp and splendour it ought to have had; if he had caused the troops and half-pay officers, who had hastened to his call, to march before him; if he had presented himself at the head of his grenadiers of the island of Elba, with all their decorations; if he had been surrounded by Generals Bertrand, Drouot, Cambronne, and the faithful companions of his exile; this grand and affecting train would have produced the most lively sensation, and the whole population of Paris would have applauded the return and the triumph of Napoleon. Instead of those unanimous transports, he received only the applauses of the populous part of the capital, that he had occasion to traverse; and his detractors did not fail, to compare this reception with that of Louis XVIII., and to publish, that he was obliged to enter Paris by night, in order to escape the maledictions and vengeance of the public. Napoleon, who had just travelled two hundred and fifty leagues amid the acclamations of two millions of Frenchmen, could not be agitated by any such fears; but it is well known with what confidence, what intoxication, he was inspired by the anniversary of a victory or happy event; and as the 20th of March was the birthday of his son, he determined at all events to enter the capital under such fortunate auspices.

That night and the following morning the Emperor was busied in the choice and nomination of his ministers.

At their head Prince Cambacérès found himself placed. The system of defamation directed against him had not altered the high consideration, which he had acquired by his great wisdom, and constant moderation. The Emperor offered him the port-folio of the minister of justice, and was obliged to command him to accept it. His sagacity and foresight, no doubt, presaged the fatal issue of the new reign of Napoleon.

The Prince of Eckmuhl was named minister of war. By the harshness of his manners, by acts of severity almost barbarous, he had formerly drawn upon himself universal animadversions; his fidelity to the Emperor, and his defence of Hamburgh, had subsequently conciliated public opinion. The feebleness and versatility of his character indeed excited some apprehensions; but it was hoped, that the Emperor would know how to master him, and that the army would derive happy advantages from his indefatigable zeal, and his strict probity.

The Duke of Gaëta and Count Mollien became again ministers of the finances and the treasury. They had obtained the confidence of the public by the ability, prudence, and integrity of their preceding administration; and the choice of them met with general applause.

The Duke of Otranto had the charge of the police. He had been at the helm of the state in circumstances of difficulty and peril; he had learned to form a sound judgment of the public mind, and to foresee, prepare, and guide events. Having belonged to all parties in succession, he knew their tactics, their resources, their pretensions; and the whole nation, convinced of his experience, talents, and patriotism, hoped, that he would successfully concur in the safety of the Emperor and the empire.

The recall of the Duke of Bassano to the ministry, as secretary of state, displeased the court, and also those credulous people, who, having no opinions but what are suggested to them, adopt praise and blame without discernment.

Few men have been so ill treated, as this minister.

Every one has taken pleasure in disfiguring his character and even his features.

The Duke of Bassano had an open countenance, an agreeable manner of conversation, a politeness always uniform, a dignity sometimes affected, but never offensive, with a natural propensity to esteem men, courtesy in obliging them, and perseverance in serving them. The favour he enjoyed was at first the reward of unexampled readiness in business; of indefatigable activity; of pure intentions, lofty views, probity, proof against all temptation, and I will even add an iron constitution; for physical strength also was a quality in the eyes of Napoleon. Subsequently it became the just return for an attachment not to be shaken; an attachment, which, by its force, vivacity, and constancy, seemed to be a compound of love and friendship.

I must own, I believe, that M. de Bassano most frequently shared and approved without exception the opinions of the Emperor; but it was not from interested or base motives: the Emperor was the idol of his heart, the object of his admiration: with such sentiments, how was it possible for him, to perceive the errors and faults of Napoleon? Besides, having continually to express the ideas of the Emperor, and to imbue himself as it were with the emanations of his spirit, he had identified himself with his way of thinking and of viewing things, and saw and thought as he did with the most perfect sincerity. Not but that he sometimes differed from him in opinion; yet whatever efforts he made, he always yielded ultimately to the irresistible ascendancy, that the genius of Napoleon exercised over him, as it did over every other person.

The Duke of Decrès was called anew to the post of minister of the navy, and this unexpected choice was completely disapproved. This minister was not deficient in understanding, talents, or bravery; but from the little importance he appeared to set on acting with justice or injustice, his cynicism, and his brutal contempt for those under him, he had acquired the aversion of all who came near him; and, as evil spreads readily, this aversion, though unjust, had become general.

The discontent this appointment excited was repaired by the good effect, which was produced by that of M. Carnot to the ministry of the home department. The soldiery did not forget, that he had paved the way to victory for many years; and the citizens remembered with what zeal, this courageous patriot had shown himself the defender of public liberty under Napoleon, both when consul and when Emperor, and under Louis XVIII. To be a real patriot, says one of our celebrated writers, it is requisite, to possess greatness of soul; to have knowledge, to have probity, to have virtue. In M. Carnot all these rare and valuable qualities were combined: and, far from acquiring any personal lustre from this great name of patriot, he seemed on the contrary to embellish the name by wearing it; so well had he preserved it in its primitive purity, amid the debasement into which it had been plunged by the excesses of the revolution, and the abuses of despotism.

The choice of such a minister was considered as a pledge to the nation. The sovereign, who was not afraid to introduce this illustrious citizen into the government of the state, could not but entertain the generous design of securing the happiness of his subjects, and respecting their rights.

The same day the Emperor gave the chief command of the gendarmerie to the Duke of Rovigo.

The Duke of Rovigo, an old aide-de-camp of Napoleon, had sworn him an eternal attachment, both from feeling and gratitude. This attachment, born in a camp, had retained the character of military obedience: a word, a gesture, was sufficient to call it into action. But however great its strength, or, if you will, its fanaticism, it never affected the rectitude and frankness, which were the base and ornament of the duke's character.

From no other person, except the Duke of Vicenza, did the Emperor hear more bold and useful truths. Twenty times did he venture to say to him, as his ministerial correspondence testifies, that France and Europe were tired of shedding blood; and that, if he did not renounce his system of war, he would be abandoned by the French, and precipitated from the throne by foreigners.

The command of the gendarmerie was taken from Marshal Moncey, not from disgust or dissatisfaction, but because the marshal showed little eagerness to retain it. On this occasion he wrote to the Emperor a letter full of fine sentiments, in which he requested him, to continue to his son the kindness he had formerly conferred on himself: it was difficult to reconcile the gratitude he owed Napoleon with the fidelity he had promised the King: in this he was so happy as to succeed.

All the marshals were not so fortunate.

M. de Montalivet, formerly minister of the home department, became intendant of the civil list, an office that suited him better. In administration, as in many other things, endeavours to do better prevent people from doing so well; and M. de Montalivet, from a desire to neglect no minute particular, and seeking to carry every thing to perfection, lost in empty trifles that time, which he might have employed in promoting the general good on a large scale.

The strangest metamorphosis was that of the Duke de Cadore: he was made a surveyor of buildings.

This place, hitherto the modest portion of auditors or masters of request, who had interest at court, was astonished at the honour of belonging to a duke and peer, ex-ambassador, ex-minister, ex-grand chancellor, &c. &c. &c. But so much was his excellency then devoted to the sovereign of the day, that he would readily have accepted the post of a gentleman usher, had there been no other to offer him.