HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION OF THE 20th OF MARCH.

When Napoleon resigned his crown, I broke my sword. I swore that I never more would use it in the service of France, or of the new Sovereign of the nation. But the generous farewell of the Emperor could not fail to affect me; and, conquered by the irresistible influence which the love of glory and of our native land exercises upon a French soldier, I soon awoke to more praiseworthy and more tempered feelings. My recollections faded, my regrets were softened, and I aspired most sincerely to the honour of being again useful to my country, and to my country's King.

At first the character which I had earned, procured for me the most gratifying reception. Dazzling prospects were held out to me. I believed that I was treated with sincerity. This error was of short duration. Deceived and baffled, I now understood that they were cheating the army and myself. They affected to honour us in the aggregate, because they were afraid of us; and they insulted us individually, in conformity to their systematic hated. My character was too proud to allow me to bear with the insults and the contempt which they wished to pour out upon me. I resigned my commission. France and her government sickened me; but my military enthusiasm had not abated. I thought that I should be recollected by the Emperor, who had distinguished me in the field of battle; and that he would deign to grant that boon which was dearest to my heart; that he would allow me to live and die in his service. I therefore made up my mind to visit the isle of Elba.

Just, however, as I was on the point of departing, I was stopped by a sudden thought. Abandoned, betrayed, and denied, by men whom he has heaped with rewards and honours, will the Emperor really believe that I am really attached to him? Perhaps he will even suspect that I am a spy, and that the Bourbons have sent me to watch his words and actions. I was still in relation with those persons who had formerly enjoyed the confidence of the Emperor. Since the restoration, their conduct had been marked by frankness and honesty. Their feelings led them to be faithful to the person of Napoleon; their patriotism and their principles led them to be devoted to his cause; and they had not sought to conceal either their fidelity or their devotion. Many efforts had been made to gain them over to the royal party, but they had continued immoveable. I therefore thought, that whatever recommendation I could obtain from any one of the persons in question, would protect me from the suspicions of the Emperor; and to them I therefore confided my plans and the causes of my uneasiness, without hesitation or reserve.

The first, and the second, to whom I thus applied, severally assured me that they took the most lively interest in the undertaking, and they betrayed the most tender anxiety for its result. They desired me to express to the Emperor the grief which his loss had occasioned to them, and their hopes of seeing him once more; but both were afraid to compromise themselves by writing to him, and I quitted them without having obtained my wishes. Then I proceeded to the third, whom I shall call Monsieur X. We had known each other in those eventful periods when men are put to the test, and he had kindly formed and retained a favourable opinion of my character and courage. I unveiled my projects and my fears. "Your fears," answered he, "are well founded. The Emperor will distrust you, and probably he will not allow you to continue with him. My recommendation would, without doubt, be of great utility to you, but I cannot give it without danger. Not that I should be in danger, for my affection towards the Emperor is well known to all the world, but we might put the Emperor himself in jeopardy; for, if they were to take my letter from you, they might give it over to a spy, nay, even to an assassin."

This argument appeared conclusive to me, but I answered, "A lucky thought flashes across my mind. You have acted so long and so often in connexion with the Emperor, that surely you must be able to recollect some circumstances, some disclosures known only to yourselves, which, if I relate them to his Majesty, will prove to him that you trust me, and that I am worthy of his trust."—"Your idea is excellent; yet," added he, "I must either give you insignificant details, and then the Emperor will have forgotten them, or I must reveal important secrets to you, and I am forbidden by my duty to do so; yet I will turn the matter over in my mind. Call here again to-morrow morning."

I called again. "I have ransacked my memory," said M. X*** as he accosted me, "and here is the very thing which you want." He then delivered a note to me. "I had only considered your expedition to Elba," continued M. X***, "in relation to your own concerns; but it is of much greater importance than you imagine, or than I myself thought it would be. It may produce tremendous consequences. It is impossible that the Emperor can be indifferent to what is going on in France. If he was to put any questions to you on that head, how would you answer him? You must be fully aware how very dangerous it might be if you were to give him an erroneous idea of our political situation."—"Though I am a soldier by profession, yet I am not an utter novice in politics. I have often reflected on the present position of France. I really think that I understand enough of the matter to be able to satisfy the curiosity of Napoleon."—"I don't doubt it: but, come, what is your opinion of affairs?"

In answer to this interrogatory, I entered into an illustrative analysis of the faults of government, and of the consequences ensuing therefrom. Our conversation became warmer, and when, after having discussed the time present, we began to contemplate futurity, our thoughts were evolved with so much rapidity; we were carried so much further than we intended, that we ourselves were astonished, and we then both continued during a short interval in a kind of reverie. I was the first who broke silence. "Well," said I, "suppose the Emperor, after having questioned me, were to ask, Do you think the time of my re-appearance in France is arrived, what must I answer?"—"You will tell his Majesty that I could not dare to decide so important a question; but that he may consider it as a positive and incontestible fact that our present government (as you have well observed) has wholly lost the confidence of the people and of the army; that discontent has increased to the highest pitch; and that it is impossible to believe that the government can stand much longer against the universal dislike. You will add, that the Emperor is the only object of the regret and hope of the nation. He, in his wisdom, will decide what he ought to do."—"If he asks me whether this opinion is only yours, or whether Messrs. ******* all share in it, what shall I answer?"—"Tell him that since his abdication those persons have ceased to be in communication with each other, but that my opinion is conformable to the general opinion."—"I am now able to answer all the questions which the Emperor may ask. Adieu."

We embraced each other repeatedly, and we parted.

As soon as I had quitted M. X*** all that had passed between us filled my mind again. I now contemplated at leisure the mission which I was called upon to fulfil. I measured its extent, and weighed its consequences, and I could not help feeling astonished, and in some measure alarmed, by the result of this self-examination. So long as I merely intended to go to Elba for the sole purpose of offering my services to the Emperor, my journey appeared to be nothing out of the common course of things, and I thought that I should not have hesitated to declare to the government that I was going to rejoin my former benefactor, the Sovereign of my choice; but since the object of my journey had become so much more important; since, to use the words of M. X***, it might produce tremendous consequences, it seemed that the government would not fail to watch me; that it would dog me in my path, and endeavour to spy out all my words and actions.

Hence I became suspicious and uneasy. The note of M. X*** appeared an immense burthen. I got it by heart, and then I threw it in the fire. Instead of asking at once for a passport to Genoa or Leghorn, as I had at first intended, I asked for a passport to Milan. There was a General officer then residing in that city whom I knew; and I thought that if the Police were to question me, I might then declare that I was going to Milan in order to settle my accounts with my friend the General, he being in my debt for money which I had advanced to him.

Having thus settled my plan, I went on to the "prefecture de police." Whilst I was stepping across the threshold of the door, my heart began to beat so violently that I could hardly move or breathe. If at that instant any body had cried out to me, "Rascal, what are you about?" I think I should have dropped, and that I should have let out the whole secret. It must not be thought that my confusion arose from cowardly fear; no, it was the impression which every honest man ought to feel, when, for the first time in his life, he commits an action which he is under the necessity of concealing.

In a few minutes I came to myself again. In I went, and presented myself boldly to Monsieur Rivière, the Prefect of Police. He cross-questioned me at full length, but my answers were clear and firm. My countenance was unabashed, and appeared to preclude all suspicion, and he granted my passport. Yet, at all events, I thought it prudent to ascertain whether I was watched, and to my great surprise I found that during two days I was closely followed. I did not give any token by which my spy could ascertain that I was aware of his company, and, in order to mislead him, I went to the messageries, where I took and paid for a place in the Lyons diligence. But when night came I hired post-horses under a feigned name, and set off as fast as possible, and in a few days I was at Milan.

My friend the General was absent: I wrote to him, and he hastened to meet me. I confessed that I intended to try to obtain employment under Napoleon.—"You won't get it," said he; "Napoleon has not ready money enough to pay his body guard. A good many of my old officers have joined him, and for themselves and their families they only receive fifty, or perhaps sixty francs a month. They are in a state of starvation and despair."—"No matter; I love the Emperor, and come what may, I will join him. Do tell me how I can soonest put to sea."—"The thing is not easy; there is no place from whence you can sail, except only from Leghorn or from Genoa; and those two points are under such close inspection, that you will be sure to be taken up, if you are known to be a Bonapartist. You might slip through with greater ease if you could pass for a tradesman of this town. I will try to get you a passport, but I am afraid it will be a difficult job."—"Besides, there is another difficulty, which is still greater; ma foi! I can't speak a dozen words of Italian."—"Is it possible?"—"Yes, I am in earnest."—"And you would venture on such a scheme! are you crazy?"—"Crazy or not, I will venture; but can I really embark no where but at Leghorn or Genoa?"—"There are very many small ports on the coast of Tuscany, but if you go to any of them you must stop till there is an opportunity of getting out; and in the mean time you would be under the surveillance of the authorities, who are, one and all, exceedingly ill-disposed towards the Emperor and his people. Perhaps you might be able to embark immediately in the gulf of Spezzia at Lerici; but, in order to get there, you must go through Genoa, and along the shore; and then there is great reason to fear that you may be snapped either by the Piedmontese carabineers, or by the new consul at Genoa, who, according to what I hear, is quite outrageous. There is another road through the mountains of Spezzia, but it has not been used for a long time, and you would run the risk either of breaking your neck, or of being knocked on the head."—"No matter, if there is no danger in the victory there is no glory in the triumph. That road suits me; and to-morrow I will set out on my expedition."—"Is your passport all right?"—"I will go and get it marked for Lerici."—"Another piece of stupidity; don't you know that here you have to deal with our implacable enemies, the Austrians, who will raise all kinds of difficulties; but I know a Tedesco Colonel (in Italy an Austrian is called a Tedesco), who will probably be able to do the needful for us: we will ask him to come and dine with us. Business or quarrels can all be settled with these gentry when they are feeding."

Our Tedesco Colonel really got my passport through the office. I left my "calèche" and my baggage at Milan, and the next day I started in a "seggiola," a kind of a little cabriolet, in which you drive along at an infernal rate. I travelled through cross roads till I came to the foot of the mountains. As it was impossible to ascend them in a wheeled carriage, I was compelled, though reluctantly, to separate myself from my "conducteur." I bought two horses, one for myself, and the other for my new guide; this new guide could not speak a word of French. I had taken care to provide myself with a pocket dictionary, French and Italian; but I was completely ignorant, or at least very nearly so, of the way either of pronouncing Italian words, or of arranging them; and thus our conversation was reduced on both sides to a few detached phrases, which were often mutually unintelligible.

We set out at break of day. About noon the snow began to fall, and we had the greatest difficulty imaginable in reaching a hamlet, the name whereof I have forgotten. The next day the weather became still more wretched; my guide's horse foundered in the snow, and we lost two hours in hauling him out again. My guide was an Italian, and, like all Italians, he was full of superstition, and easily discouraged. He considered this accident as a bad omen, and he wanted to turn back; I could only conquer his repugnance by means of a double Napoleon d'or. Scarcely had I given it to him when I felt the extent of my imprudence; I was exciting his avarice, and perhaps exposing myself to become his victim. As we advanced, the road became worse and worse; at every step we encountered pits and holes, or the road was stopped by rocks which had fallen in, and which forced us to scramble through new paths. So much snow had fallen in the north of Italy, and particularly in the district which we were then crossing, that even the muleteers had deserted the mountains: and my guide, unable to discern the beaten road, was compelled to make a survey at every step, lest we should either lose ourselves, or else tumble down the precipices which bordered our road of danger. The next day we arrived at Borcetto; the perils which I had escaped taught me caution: I hired two more horses, and another guide; and for this addition to my train, I paid out of all reason. I then met with a custom-house officer, who either out of kindness, or for the purpose of alarming me, I know not which, warned me to be particularly on my guard in crossing "la Size," a very lofty and dangerous mountain, for he told me that it swarmed with robbers. I put fresh priming in my pistols; I turned up my eyes toward Heaven to implore its protection, and I set out. When we had proceeded half way up the mountain, I was accosted by a soldier, who compelled me to enter the guard-house, and to produce my passport. This post, which had been lately established for the security of travellers, was occupied by a subaltern and by six soldiers, who had all served in the imperial army. They guessed by my looks that I had seen some service, and, after a short conversation, they asked me to come in and warm myself by drinking the health of the Emperor Napoleon. I refused at first, lest I should be entrapped, but they insisted so frankly that I was compelled to yield. On taking leave I gave them a twenty-franc piece, in order to drink the health of Napoleon, and mine too; and I begged them to recommend my guides to take care of me. The commandant called the guides, and at the same time that he fired a volley of oaths and curses, he declared that if any accident happened to me, he would shoot them both on their return. My worthy military friends also escorted me during a considerable distance, and we separated with feelings which no one but a soldier can appreciate or understand.

We were to sleep at Pontremoli. Our halt retarded us, and night overtook us. In order to shorten the distance, my guides led me by a broad path which wound round the side of the mountain. The descent was so steep that our horses came down every moment, and we ourselves were obliged to slide along. I found myself at the foot of the mountain in a spot which was so dark and dreary, that I fancied my guides had conducted me thither in order to dispatch me. After having groped along for some time, my guides stopped. The darkness and the snow concealed the face of the country to such a degree, that they did not know where they were, nor which way they ought to turn: their fear became excessive; they prayed to all the Saints in heaven in their turn: they shook each other by the hand, and embraced each other like sailors on the point of being shipwrecked. My sang froid did not desert me; I took one of the horses which looked like an old roadster; I dropped the bridle on his neck, and gave him a sound cut with my whip; he started, I followed, and a few minutes afterwards, to the inexpressible surprise, and also to the inexpressible satisfaction of my guides, we found ourselves in the right road, and within half an hour's ride of Pontremoli, where we arrived towards midnight.

From Pontremoli to Spezzia there was yet a journey of four-and-twenty hours; and four-and-twenty hours on such roads as I had gone over are equal to four-and-twenty centuries. But how great was my delight on quitting Pontremoli, when, instead of the frozen rocks and deserts, which I had crossed the eve before, I saw nothing as I looked around, but valleys clothed with verdure, and enamelled with flowers; and hills surrounded and crowned by evergreens and olive-trees. On the day before, winter reigned with all his severity; the day after exhibited spring with all her charms. This pleasing transition beguiled my impatience; and the agitations which had become habitual to my soul were succeeded by that happy tranquillity, which is inspired by the contemplation of the beauties and the gifts of nature.

A few leagues beyond Pontremoli the road is interrupted by a deep and rapid stream. There is a ford across this torrent. It had scarcely been indicated to me by my guides, beyond whom I had advanced, when I dashed into the water; but instead of guiding my horse to the right (as I ought to have done), I took the opposite direction. My guides, who saw my mistake, screamed out in Italian, "fermate, fermate!" which means, "stop, stop!" I thought it meant "firm, firm!" so I whipped and spurred my horse with all my might; he lost his footing, and I narrowly escaped drowning. When I reached the opposite shore my guides treated me with a sermon, which I dare say was very energetic, and in which the "Devil and the Frenchman" appeared to be the leading actors.

I arrived on the **** at Lerici. I rejoiced when I saw the sea before me, when I saw the last obstacle which was interposed between the fulfilment of my hopes and the termination of my labours. But unhappily my joy was of short duration; in the course of the night I was attacked by an oppression on my chest, accompanied by a burning fever: this was the result of the cold bath which I had taken in the river. My mental sufferings were severe: I thought to myself, if I should be so unlucky as to get an inflammation on my lungs, what will become of me here without help, without friends, and in a strange land? Ah, my beloved country! ah, my dear mother! have I left you both, in order to perish in the arms of hirelings and of strangers! Have I only reached the long wished-for shores of Spezzia but to experience the grief of not being able to sail from them! Ah, if I could but have reached the Emperor, if I could but have spoken to him, if I could but have expired at his feet, then I should not have regretted life! My devoted attachment would have been known; my memory honoured; my name, linked to the destiny of the Emperor, would, perhaps, have descended with his unto posterity.... I sent for a doctor: by singular good fortune, the medical man who came to attend me was a retired army surgeon, a worthy man, and a great admirer of the French. When I was quite out of danger, he expressed a wish to know the motives which had induced me to cross the mountains to Lerici: and he gave me to understand that he guessed my views. A man who speaks is always liable to less suspicion than a man who says nothing; I therefore thought it right to allay the doctor's curiosity. After exhorting him to secrecy, and making a great mystery of the matter, I confessed that I was a Colonel in the French army, and that an officer who held a high rank in the service of Napoleon had married my sister. My sister, I proceeded to state, was so afflicted and broken down by the expatriation of her husband, that her medical attendants had declared her life to be in the greatest danger. My sister's illness, and the care of her four small children, prevented her from rejoining her husband; and therefore, in order to restore health and happiness to my poor dear sister, I had determined to go to Elba, for the purpose of reminding my brother-in-law of the duty which he owed to his wife and children, and that I hoped to be able to induce him to return to France, at least for a short time.

I took care to diversify my romance with sighs and sentimental reflections, and it appeared to affect him exceedingly. He condoled with me, he tried to console me; he gave me the most flattering hopes, and he promised to serve me to the utmost of his power, and with all his heart and soul.

As soon as I was in a state of convalescence, I became more ardent than before, in search of an immediate opportunity of embarking. My complaisant doctor introduced me to the captain of a running felucca, and I hired his vessel for a fortnight.

The captain asked me for my passport, in order that he might receive his "feuille de bord" and his "boletta" from the port officer. This was in consequence of regulations of which I was wholly ignorant. The fact is, that no vessel can clear out of one port, or enter another, without a "feuille de bord," stating the complement of the crew, and the number of passengers; and a "boletta," or certificate, delivered by the health officers to each of the passengers and crew individually, stating that the bearer has not been attacked by any infectious disorder. These papers are only delivered on the production of the passports, to which they must correspond exactly. I did not expect this proceeding; my plans were all disorganized: my passport did not authorize me to embark; and I was afraid if I produced it, (for in such situations we are afraid of every thing), that difficulties might arise, and that they would refer to the Consul or his agents.

The Captain guessed the cause of my uneasiness, and he offered to procure a passport and a boletta under a feigned name. I refused: I thought it more advisable to run the risk of being punished as a Bonapartist than as an impostor. "Since you will not do so," said the captain, "there is but one course which you can pursue: you must get on board a boat, and pass for a common sailor. I will manage the business for you."—Some hours afterwards the captain came to me with a Gallo-Genoese sailor, who offered to take me, without any papers, wherever I wished to go. He added, that he had a relation who was a gunner on board the Inconstant, a brig belonging to Napoleon, and that he should be very glad to see him again. I judged that my design of going to Elba had got wind: I therefore determined, if possible, to depart that very night. It was therefore agreed that Salviti, so the sailor was called, should fetch me, and that we should put out to sea, however bad the weather might prove.

Salviti came with a sorrowful visage and announced this fresh misfortune; our vessel tacked about, and we reached our station of exile.

On the morning of the third day Salviti informed me that, according to custom, they intended to put an "inspector of health" on board of our vessel, who would pass the night with us, in order to ascertain whether we were all well. From the person who had brought, or who, rather, had thrown us our provisions (for all contact is prohibited under pain of death), he had ascertained the name of our intended inspector. He was a gamester and a drunkard. Salviti procured cards and wine; and he assured me that he would manage the inspector in such a manner as to prevent his taking any notice of me.

As for me, I was not as easy as Salviti. I was afraid lest the inspector might discover the sailor whom we had hidden, or that he might guess by my manner, my looks, and my awkwardness, that I was not really the character which I seemed to be. Besides, a single question would have ended the matter. I did not understand a single word of Italian, and I should have betrayed myself either by answering him, or by remaining silent. It came into my head to counterfeit deafness: this would excuse me from taking a part in the conversation: and to make believe that I had a wound in my hand: this would account for my inactivity, and prevent his observing how little I knew of my pretended occupation. I drew a few drops of blood, which I smeared upon some dirty rags, in which I wrapped my hand. Salviti explained my stratagem to my companions, and their loud peals of laughter explained to me that they approved of it. The inspector arrived. I kept myself to myself. Salviti acted his part admirably. So did I: and to my great delight the evening closed, and nothing disagreeable had happened. Until this night I had always slept separately from the rest on a tolerable mattress. But the inspector was now accommodated with my birth and my bed; and I was compelled to lie on the floor with the sailors; my head being placed even with the feet of my two next neighbours. The stench and closeness of the atmosphere of my den drove the blood into my head, and I thought I should have been suffocated. Early in the morning my companions began to eat and drink: I kept at a distance. "Come here, and eat," said Salviti.—"I can't."—"The inspector will fancy that you are ill, and that will be enough to give us another quarantine."—I ate. At ten o'clock the health-officers came near us; and as our inspector made a favourable report, we were allowed to enter the harbour. I remained on board with one of the crew, whom I kept as a hostage. The smugglers broke up their cabinet council about two o'clock; and at three o'clock we quitted our anchorage. A fair wind filled the sail, and I forgot all my sufferings and my dangers when I perceived the rock where I was to meet with Napoleon the Great.

The sun rose, and put an end to my musings. My joy was inexpressible when I recognized on the ramparts those old grenadiers whom I had so often admired and honoured on the field of battle.

During the whole of this discourse, the Emperor continued striding up and down, and appeared violently agitated. He paused a little while, and then he began again. "They (i.e. the emigrants) know too well that I am here, and they would like to assassinate me. I discover new plots, new snares every day. They have sent to Corsica one of the assassins of Georges, a wretch whom the English journals themselves have pointed out to Europe as a blood-thirsty assassin; but let us be on the alert. If he misses me, I won't miss him. I shall send my grenadiers after him, and he shall be shot as an example to others."

After a few moments of silence, he said, "Do my generals go to court? they must cut a sad figure there." I waited for the end of this digression, in order to resume the thread of my discourse. As I was convinced that I could not possibly lead the conversation, I resolved to let the Emperor have it according to his own way, and I answered, "Yes, Sire, and they are furious to see themselves superseded in favour by emigrants who have never heard the sound of a cannon."—"The emigrants will never alter. As long as they were only required to dance attendance in my anti-chamber, I had more than enough of them. When it was necessary to show any heart, they slunk away like.... I committed a great error, when I recalled that anti-national race into France. If it had not been for me, they would have died of starvation abroad; but then I had great motives. I wanted to reconcile Europe to us, and to close the revolution.... What do my soldiers say about me?"—"The soldiers, Sire, talk constantly about your immortal victories. They never pronounce your name but with respect, admiration, and grief. When the Princes give money to the soldiers, they drink it out to your health, and when they are forced to cry Vive le Roi! they add in a whisper, de Rome."—"And so they still love me?" (smiling.)—"Yes, Sire, and I may even venture to say, more than ever."—"What do they say about our misfortunes?"—"They consider them as the effect of treachery; and they constantly repeat, that they never would have been conquered, if they had not been sold to their enemies. They are particularly indignant with respect to the capitulation of Paris."—"They are right: had it not been for the infamous defection of the Duke of Ragusa, the allies would have been lost. I was master of their rear, and of all their resources; not a man would have escaped. They too would have had their twenty-ninth bulletin. Marmont is a wretch; he has ruined his country, and delivered up his sovereign. His convention with Schwartzenburg would alone suffice to dishonour him. If he had not known when he surrendered, that he compromised my person and my army, he would not have found it necessary to make stipulations in favour of my liberty and life. This piece of treachery is not the only one. He has intrigued with Talleyrand to take the regency from the Empress, and the crown from my son. Caulincourt, Macdonald, and the rest of the marshals, have been cheated and gulled by him in the most shameful manner. All his blood would not be sufficient to expiate the harm which he has done to France.... I will devote his name to the execration of posterity. I am glad to learn that my soldiers retain the feeling of their superiority, and that they attribute our great misfortunes to the right authors. I collect with great pleasure, from the intelligence which you have brought, that the opinion which I had formed respecting the situation of France, is correct. The family of the Bourbons is not fit to reign. Their government may be good for priests, nobles, and old fashioned countesses: it is good for nothing for the present generation. The revolution has taught the people to know their rank in the state. They will never consent to fall back into their former nullity, and to be tied up by the nobility and the clergy. The army can never belong to the Bourbons. Our victories and our misfortunes have established an indissoluble tie between the army and myself. It is only through me that the soldiers can earn vengeance, power, and glory. From the Bourbons they can get nothing but insults and blows. Kings can only retain their power by the love of their subjects or by fear. The Bourbons are neither loved nor feared. At last they will throw themselves off their throne; but they may yet retain their position for a long time. Frenchmen do not know how to conspire."

In pronouncing these words, the Emperor continued walking hastily, and using many gestures. He rather appeared to be soliloquizing than addressing any one else; he then continued, looking at me aside, "Does M. X*** think that those people can stand much longer?"—"His opinion on this point is exactly conformable to the general opinion; that is to say, it is now the general impression and conviction, that the government is hastening to its fall. The priests and the emigrants are its only partisans; every man of patriotism or soul is its enemy."—Napoleon (with energy), "Yes, all men in whose veins any national blood is flowing must be its enemies; but how will all this end? Is it thought that there will be a new revolution?"—"Sire, discontent and irritation prevail to such an extent, that the slightest partial effervescence would inevitably cause a general insurrection, and nobody would be surprised if it were to take place to-morrow."—"But what would you do were you to expel the Bourbons: would you re-establish the republic?"—"The republic, Sire! nobody thinks about it; perhaps they would create a regency."—Napoleon (with vehemence and surprise), "A regency! And wherefore? am I dead?"—"But your absence...."—"My absence makes no difference. In a couple of days I would be back again in France, if the nation were to recal me. Do you think it would be well, if I were to return?" The Emperor turned away his eyes, and I could easily remark, that to this question he attached more importance than he cared to manifest, and that he expected my answer with anxiety. "Sire, I dare not personally attempt to answer such a question, but...."—Napoleon (abruptly), "That's not what I am asking you; answer yes or no."—"Why then, Sire,—yes."—Napoleon (with tenderness), "You really think so?"—"Yes, Sire, I am convinced, and so is M. X****, that the people and the army would receive you as their deliverer, and that your cause would be embraced with enthusiasm."—Napoleon (appearing agitated and impatient), "Then X*** advises me to return?"—"We had foreseen that your Majesty would make inquiries on this point, and the following is literally his answer. You will tell his Majesty that I would not dare to decide so important a question, but that he may consider it as a positive and incontrovertible fact, that our present government has wholly lost the confidence of the people and of the army; that discontent has increased to the highest pitch, and that it is impossible to believe that the government can stand much longer against the universal dislike. You will add, that the Emperor is the only object of the regret and hope of the nation. He, in his wisdom, will decide what he ought to do."

The Emperor became silent and pensive; and, after a long meditation, he said, "I will reflect upon it; I will keep you with me. Come here to-morrow at eleven o'clock."

On leaving the Emperor, I met the Grand Marshal, who said, "the Emperor has detained you a long time. I am in terror lest this interview should have been noticed. We are surrounded by English spies. The slightest indiscretion might cost us dear. I do not ask you to relate to me any thing which was reserved for the Emperor; but if, without violating your duty, you could give me any details relating to France, you would be doing me a great favour. We hear nothing of what is going forward, except from the journals and a few commercial travellers; and the intelligence which we thus obtain is so trifling and so contradictory, that we do not know what to make of it."—"I can satisfy you, Monsieur le Maréchal, and without acting indiscreetly: what I have told to the Emperor is known to all France. Discontent is at its greatest height, and the royal government is on its last legs."—"I cannot tell what futurity promises to us; but whatever our fate may be, we cannot be worse off than we are at present. Our resources are dwindling away daily; we are becoming home-sick. If we were not a little upheld by hope, I really do not know what would become of us. Has the Emperor allowed you to remain with us?"—"Yes, Monsieur le Maréchal."—"I give you joy, but I pity you. There is no happiness out of one's own country. I do not regret having followed the Emperor—this step was dictated to me by my duty and my gratitude; but I regret France, like an infant who has lost its mother; like a lover who has lost his mistress." The Grand Marshal's eyes were filled with tears; he pressed my hand affectionately, and then said, "Come and breakfast with us to-morrow morning. I will introduce you to my wife; it will be as good as a fête to her when she has an opportunity of receiving a Frenchman, and above all, a true Frenchman."

It was soon known all over the town, that a Frenchman had arrived from the continent. My inn was besieged by a crowd of officers and grenadiers, who overwhelmed me with inquiries after their friends and relations. They seemed to think that I must be acquainted with every living creature in France. Many inquired respecting the state of public affairs. I evaded their interrogatories, by declaring that I had quitted France five months since.

I waited on the Grand Marshal according to his invitation. He resided in one wing of the building occupied by the municipality. In his apartment, there was hardly any thing to be seen except the four walls. He took notice that I was surveying its appearance.—"You are contemplating our misery," said he: "Perhaps it contrasts itself with the opinion which you may have formed respecting our situation. It is supposed throughout Europe, that the Emperor carried off immense treasures; but his camp-plate, his camp bed, and a few broken down horses, are the only objects which he has preserved, or which he wished to preserve. Like Saladin, he could cause an outcry to be made at his door, whilst he exposes our tatters,—behold all that Napoleon the Great, the conqueror of the universe, has retained from his conquests!"

The General was as good as his word: he introduced me to Madame la Maréchale. I was enchanted by her manners and her amiability. Our conversation turned upon France and the Isle of Elba, the present and the future; and on quitting Madame Bertrand, I did not know what I ought most to admire—the lively graces of her mind, or the dignity and energy of her character.

At eleven o'clock I attended, to present myself to the Emperor. They made me wait in his saloon on the ground floor. The striped silk hangings were half worn out and faded; the carpet was threadbare, and patched in several places; a few shabby arm chairs completed the furniture of the apartment. I thought upon the splendour of the imperial palaces, and I drew a deep and melancholy sigh. The Emperor arrived: he had assumed a degree of calmness in his manner, which was belied by his eyes. It was easy to see that he had been violently agitated. "Sir," said he, "I declared to you yesterday, that I retained you in my service. I repeat the same to you to-day. From this instant you belong to me, and I hope you will fulfil your duties towards me like a good and faithful subject: you swear that you will—is it not so?"—"Yes, Sire, I swear."—"That's right." After a pause, "I had foreseen the crisis to which France would come, but I did not think that things were so ripe. It was my intention not to interfere any longer in political affairs. The intelligence which you have brought to me has changed my resolutions. I have caused the misfortunes of France; therefore I must remove them: but before I commit myself, I wish to have a thorough knowledge of the state of our affairs. Sit down: repeat to me all that you told me yesterday; I like to hear you."

Re-assured by these words, and by a look full of kindness and benignity, I abandoned myself without reserve to all the inspirations of my heart and soul. The picture which I drew of the sufferings and hopes of the nation, which I presented to the Emperor, was so touching and so animated, that he was astonished. "You are a noble young fellow," said he, "you have truly the soul of a Frenchman; but are you not carried away by your imagination?"—"No, Sire; the recital which I have made to your Majesty is quite faithful. I may have expressed myself with warmth, because I cannot express my feelings otherwise; but all that I have told you is exact and true. Under such important circumstances, I should have thought it a crime to substitute the inspirations of my imagination in the place of truth."—"You therefore think that France awaits her redemption from me; that I shall be received as a deliverer."—"Yes, Sire; I will even say more: the royal government is so exceedingly hateful and disgusting to the French, the government weighs so very heavily on the nation and the army, that not only your Majesty, but any body else who would endeavour to liberate the French would find them disposed to second him."—Napoleon (with dignity): "Repeat that to me again."—"Yes, Sire, I do repeat it. The French are so wearied, and degraded, and incensed, by the anti-national yoke of the emigrants and the priests, that they are ready to join any one who will promise to deliver them."—"But if I were to disembark in France, is there not reason to fear that the patriots may be massacred by the emigrants and the chouans?"—"No, Sire, I do not think so; we are the most numerous and the bravest party."—"Yes, but they may heap you in the prisons, and cut your throats."—"Sire, the people will not let them do that."—"I hope you may not be deceived; to be sure, I shall get to Paris so speedily, that they won't have time to consider where they are to hide their heads. I shall be there as soon as the news of my disembarkation.... Yes," the Emperor continued, after taking a few steps, "I have resolved.... It was I who gave the Bourbons to France, and it is I who must rid France of them.... I will set off.... The enterprise is vast, it is difficult, it is dangerous, but it is not beyond me. On great occasions fortune has never abandoned me.... I shall set off, but not alone; I won't run the risk of allowing myself to be collared by the gensdarmes. I will depart with my sword, my Polanders, my grenadiers ... all France is on my side. I belong to France; and for her I will sacrifice my repose, my blood, my life, with the greatest joy." After this speech, the Emperor stopped; his eyes sparkled with hope and genius: his attitude announced energy, confidence, victory; he was grand, he was beautiful, he was adorable!—he resumed his discourse, and said, "Do you think that they will dare to wait for me?"—"No, Sire."—"I don't think so, either: they will quake when they hear the thunder of my name; and they will know that they can only escape me by a speedy flight. But what will be the conduct of the national guards? Do you think they will fight for them?"—"I think, Sire, that the national guards will remain neutral."—"Even that's a great deal; as to their 'gardes du corps,' and their red regiments, I am not afraid of them: they are either old men or boys: they will be frightened by the mustachios of my grenadiers. I will make my grenadiers hoist the national flag;" lifting up his voice and his hand: "I will appeal to my old soldiers; I will speak to them. None of them will refuse to hear the voice of their old general.... It is certain that the soldiers cannot hesitate to choose between the white flag and the tricoloured flag; between me, by whom they have been covered with rewards and glory, and the Bourbons, who wish to dishonour them.... And the Marshals, what will they do?"—"The Marshals, who are full of money and titles, have nothing to wish for but repose. They would fear to compromise their existence by embracing a doubtful party; and perhaps they will continue merely spectators of the crisis. Perhaps even the fear lest your Majesty may possibly punish them for their defection or treason in 1814 may induce them to adhere to the king."—"I will punish no one. Do you take me rightly? Tell M. **** clearly, that I will forget every thing. We have all reason to reproach each other."—"Sire, I will tell him so with the greatest joy. This assurance will completely gain all opinions over to your side; because even amongst your partisans there are men who dread your return; lest you should revenge yourself."—"Yes, I know that it is thought that I am revengeful, and even sanguinary; that I am considered as a kind of ogre, as a man-eater. They are mistaken: I will make every one do his duty, and I will be obeyed; and that's all. A weak sovereign is a calamity to his subjects. If he allows criminals and traitors to fancy that he does not know how to punish, there is no longer any security either for the state or for individuals. More crimes are prevented than repressed by severity. A sovereign must govern by his head, and not by his heart. Yet, tell X*** that I except Talleyrand, Augereau, and the Duke of Ragusa, out of the general pardon. They caused all our misfortunes. The country must be revenged."—"But why exclude them, Sire? Is there not reason to fear that this exclusion may deprive you of the fruits of your clemency, and may even raise doubts as to your sincerity in future?"—"It would be much more exposed to doubt were I to pardon them."—"But, Sire...."—"Don't you trouble your head about it ... what is the strength of the army?"—"Sire, I do not know; I only know that it has been much weakened by desertion and by discharges, and that few of the regiments consist of more than three hundred men."—"So much the better; those who are good for nothing have probably left the army; the good soldiers will have remained. Do you know the names of the officers who command the maritime districts, and the eighth division?"—"No, Sire."—Napoleon (out of temper), "Why did not X*** give you that information?"—"Sire, both M. X*** and myself were far from supposing that your Majesty would immediately embrace the glorious resolution of re-appearing in France; besides which, he might believe, according to the common report, that your agents did not allow you to remain in ignorance of any circumstance which might interest you."—"I do know that the newspapers gave out that I had agents.... It is an idle story. It is true that I sent some of my people to France, in order to learn what was going on; but they stole my money, and only treated me with the gabble of the canaille. C**** has been to see me, but he knew nothing. You are the first person from whom I have ascertained the situation of France and the Bourbons under all its extensive bearings. Had it not been for you, I should never have known that the hour of my return had struck. Had it not been for you, they would have left me here to dig in my garden. I have received—I do not exactly know from what quarter—the description of certain assassins, hired against me; and one or two anonymous letters besides—all from the same hand, in which I was told to remain quiet, that the embroideries were coming into fashion, and other nonsense in the same style; but that's all. It is not upon such data that one is induced to attempt a crash. But how do you think foreigners will like my return: there is the great question?"—"Foreign nations, Sire, have been compelled to confederate against us in order to protect themselves; allow me to say it...."—"Speak out, speak out."—"In order to protect themselves against the effects of your ambition, and the abuse of your strength. Now that Europe has recovered her independence, and that France has ceased to be dangerous, foreign powers will probably be unwilling to run the risk of a new war, which may end by restoring to us that ascendancy which we have lost."—"If the allied sovereigns were at home in their capitals they would certainly consider the matter twice before they would take the field again; but they are yet face to face; and it is to be feared that war may become an affair of vanity. Do you think it is true that they are on ill terms with each other?"—"Yes, Sire, it appears that discord reigns in the congress; that each of the great powers wishes to seize the largest share of the booty."—"It appears, also, that their subjects are discontented: is it not so?"—"Yes, Sire; kings and people, every thing seems to unite in our favour. The Saxons, the Genoese, the Belgians, the inhabitants of the banks of the Rhine, the Polanders, all refuse the new sovereigns to whom they are to be given. Italy, tired of the avarice and the grossness of the Austrians, pants for the moment of withdrawing from their sovereignty. Experience has taught the King of Naples that you are his surest protector, and he will assist the rising of the Italians whenever you wish it. The princes of the confederation of the Rhine, warned by the example of Saxony, will become the allies of your majesty after the first victory. Prussia and Russia will sit quiet, if you will only allow them to retain their new acquisitions. The Emperor of Austria, who has every thing to fear from Russia and Prussia, and nothing to hope for from the King of France, will easily consent, if you only guarantee Italy to him, to allow you to do what you think best with the Bourbons. In short, all the powers of Europe, England only excepted, are more or less interested in not declaring themselves against you; and before England can have corrupted, or raised the continent, your Majesty will be so firmly fixed on the throne, that your Majesty's enemies may try in vain to make you totter."

Napoleon (shaking his head), "All this is very fine; ... however, I consider it as certain, that the Kings who have fought against me are no longer guided by the same unity, the same views, the same interests. The Emperor Alexander must esteem me: he must be able to estimate the difference which exists between Louis XVIII. and myself. If he were to understand his policy rightly, he would rather see the French sceptre in the hands of a powerful sovereign, the relentless enemy of England, than in the hands of a weak sovereign, the friend and vassal of the Prince Regent. I would give him Poland, and a great deal more, if he wished it: he knows that I have been always more inclined to tolerate his ambition than to restrain it. If he had continued my friend and my ally, I would have made him greater than he ever will be now. Prussia, and the petty Kings of the Rhenish confederation, will follow the lot cast by Russia. If I had Russia on my side, she would secure me all the second-rate powers. As to the Austrians, I do not know what they would do: they have never treated me candidly. I suppose I could keep Austria in order by threatening to deprive her of Italy. Italy is yet very grateful to me, and much attached to me: if I were to ask that country for an hundred thousand men, and an hundred millions, I should have the men and the money. If they were to force me to make war, I could easily revolutionize the Italians; I would grant them whatever they might wish, independence or Eugene. Mejean and some others have done him harm, but, in spite of that, he is warmly loved, and highly esteemed: he deserves to be so; he has shown that he possesses a noble mind. Murat is ours. I have had great reason to complain of him. Since I have been here, he has wept for his errors, and has done his utmost to repair the injuries which he has inflicted upon me. He has regained my friendship and my confidence: his assistance, if I were engaged in war, would be very useful to me. He has little brains; he has nothing but hand and heart; but his wife would direct him. The Neapolitans like him tolerably well; and I have yet some good officers amongst them who would keep them in the right way. As to England, we should have shaken hands from Dover to Calais, if Mr. Fox had lived; but as long as that country continues to be governed by the principles and passions of Mr. Pitt, we must always be as hostile as fire and water.... From England I expect no quarter, no truce.... England knows that the instant I place my foot in France, her influence will be driven back across the seas ... as long as I live I will wage a war of extermination against her maritime despotism. If the continental powers had seconded me; if they had not been afraid of me; if they had understood my ambition, their flags would have floated from the mast-head throughout the universe, and the world would have enjoyed peace. All things considered, foreign powers have great reasons to declare war against me; whilst there are also great reasons to induce them to remain at peace with me. It is to be feared, as I have already said to you, that they may turn the war into an affair of vanity, or that they make it a point of honour. On the other hand, it is possible that they may renounce their coalition, which has now no longer any object, in order to watch their subjects; preserving at the same time an armed neutrality, until I shall have given them sufficient guarantees.

"Their determinations, whatever they may be, will not influence mine. France speaks, and that is sufficient for me. In 1814 I had to deal with all the powers in Europe, but they should not have laid down the law to me if France had not left me to wrestle alone, against the entire world. Now the French know my value; and, as they have regained their courage and their patriotism, they will triumph over the enemies who may attack them, just as they triumphed in the good days of the revolution. Experience has shown that armies cannot always save a nation; but a nation defended by the people is always invincible.

"I have not settled the day of my departure: by deferring it I should have the advantage of allowing the Congress to run out; but then, on the other hand, I should run the risk of being kept here as a close prisoner by the vessels of the Bourbons and of the English, if, as every thing appears to indicate, there should be a rupture amongst foreign powers. Murat would lend me his navy if I wanted it; but if we do not succeed he would be compromised. We must not be anxious about all these matters: we must allow some room for destiny to come into play.

"I think we have considered all the points upon which it was important that I should be settled, and that we should understand each other. France is tired of the Bourbons; she demands her former sovereign. The people and the army are for us: foreign powers will be silent. If they speak, we shall be able to reply: this, in short, is the state of the present time and of the future.

"Depart. Tell X*** that you have seen me, and that I have determined to expose myself to every danger for the purpose of yielding to the prayers of France, and of ridding the nation of the Bourbons.... Say also that I shall leave this place with my guard, on the first of April—perhaps sooner. I pardon every thing. I will give to France and to Europe all the guarantees which can be expected or demanded of me. I have renounced all my plans of aggrandizement, and I wish to repair the evils which war has caused to us, by a permanent peace.

"You will also tell X*** and the rest of my friends to nourish and strengthen the good disposition of the people and the army by all possible means. Explain to X*** that if the excesses of the Bourbons should hasten their fall, if the French should drive them out before my disembarkation, then I will not allow of a regency, or any thing in the shape of it; but let them establish a provisional government, composed of ... of ... of ... of ... and of.... Go, Sir, I hope that we shall soon meet again."—"Sire, where shall I land?"—"You must proceed to Naples; here is a passport of the island, and a letter for ****. Pretend to place great trust in him, but do not trust him with any thing. You will give him a loose account of the French news; and you may tell him that I send you there to explore the soundings, and settle some concerns of moment. I have directed **** to furnish you with a passport, in order that you may be able to return to Paris without meeting with any obstacle or danger."—"Your Majesty has then determined to send me back to France?"—"It must absolutely be so."—"Your Majesty knows my attachment, and that I am ready to prove it in any way which may be required. But, Sire, deign to consider, both for your interest and for that of France, that my departure has been remarked, and that my return will excite still more notice, and that it may give rise to suspicion, and perhaps induce the Bourbons to put themselves on their guard, and cause them to watch the coasts and the island of Elba."—"Bah! do you suppose that fellows of the police know every thing, and can foresee every thing? More is invented than is discovered by the police. The agents of our police were decidedly as good as those of the present people, and yet they frequently knew nothing of what was going on but at the end of a week or a fortnight; and then they found it out only by chance, or incaution, or treason. I don't fear that any disclosures will be obtained from you by any of these means. You are clever and decided, and, if they were to work upon you, you would easily get clear. Besides, when you once arrive at Paris, don't show yourself; creep into a corner, and nobody will think of ferreting you out. I could certainly confide this mission to some of the people who are about me; but I do not wish to make any additional confidant: you are trusted by X***: I trust you; and, in one word, you are exactly the man whom I want. Your return is certainly exposed to objections, but they are as nothing when compared to its advantages. All that we have said about the Bourbons, and about France, and about myself, is mere talk, and talk won't overturn a throne. In order that my enterprise may not be rendered abortive, it must be seconded, and the patriots must prepare to attack the Bourbons on one side, whilst I shall occupy them on the other. And, above all, it is necessary that they should know that they may depend upon me; that they may know my sentiments, my views, and the resolution which I have made of submitting to every sacrifice, and exposing myself to every danger, for the purpose of saving the country."—The Emperor stopped to look at me. He certainly thought that I was one of those men who only appear reluctant to obey, in order to enhance the price of their services; so he said, "Money is always wanted in travelling; I will order them to pay you a thousand Louis, and then you may set off."—"A thousand Louis!" I exclaimed with indignation, "Sire, I must answer your Majesty in the words with which the soldier answered his general, 'These actions are not performed for pay.'"—"That's very right; I like to see pride."—"Sire, I am not proud, but I have a soul; and if I thought that your Majesty could believe that I embraced your Majesty's cause for the sake of filthy lucre, I should request your Majesty to cease to rely on my services."—"If I had believed that to be the case, I should not have trusted you. No person ever received a more honourable and splendid proof of my confidence, than that which I am now bestowing upon you, in deciding, merely on the strength of your word, to quit the isle of Elba, and in directing you, as my precursor, to announce my speedy arrival in France. But do not let us talk any more on that head; and tell me if you recollect fully all that I have told you."—"I have not lost one of your Majesty's expressions. They are all engraven on my memory."—"Then I have only to wish you a pleasant journey. I have directed that everything should be got ready for your departure.

"This evening, at nine o'clock, you will find a guide and horses at the gate of the town: you will be taken to Porto Longone. The commandant has been authorised to furnish you with the necessary quarantine documents. He knows nothing; say nothing to him. At midnight a felucca will leave the port, by which you will reach Naples. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings by offering money to you, but I thought you might be in want of it. Adieu, Monsieur; be cautious. I hope we shall soon meet again, and I shall acknowledge, in a manner worthy of your merits, your exertions in favour of the country and of myself."

Hardly had I gone down to the town, when he sent for me again. "I have considered," said he, "that it is desirable that I should know what regiments are stationed in the eighth and tenth military divisions, and the names of the commanding officers. You will take care to procure this information during your journey, and transmit it to me without the slightest delay. Write triplicates of your letters. Send one by way of Genoa, the second by Leghorn, and the third by Civita Vecchia. You will take care to write this name legibly, (here he gave me a memorandum containing the name of an inhabitant of the island). Fold your letters in a business-like way. In order that the secret of your correspondence may not be discovered, should any accident happen, you will put your intelligence in the shape of commercial transactions, and you will imitate the usual style of bankers. I will suppose, for example, that between Chambery and Lyon, going by the way of Grenoble, there are five regiments. You will write to me ... in my way I have seen the five merchants whom you mentioned; their views continue the same: your credit is increasing daily. The concern will turn out well ... do you understand me?"—"Yes, Sire; but how am I to send the names of the colonels and the generals in command?"—"Transpose the letters of their names, and nothing will be more easy. There is not a single colonel or general whom I do not know, and I shall soon be able to recompose their names."—"But, Sire, the anagrams which I shall make will perhaps be so uncouth, that it will be seen at the post-office, that the names are disguised on purpose."—"Do you think then, that they amuse themselves at the post-office by opening and reading all the letters of business which pass through? They could not get through them. I have attempted to unravel the correspondence carried on under the disguise of banking transactions, but I could never succeed. The post-office is like the police, only fools are caught; yet think of any other method: I shall have no objection."

After I had considered a little while, I said to the Emperor, "Sire, there is a method which perhaps will do. Your majesty has the imperial calendar."—"Yes, sure."—"Well, Sire, the calendar contains the lists of the general officers and colonels of the army. Now, I will suppose, for example, that the regiment quartered at Chambery is commanded by Colonel Paul. I look into the calendar, and I find that Paul stands forty-seven in the list of colonels. I will also suppose that, between ourselves, 'bill of exchange' means 'colonel' or 'general.' Then I shall write to your Majesty, I have seen your correspondent at Chambery; he has paid me the amount of your bill of exchange, No. 47. Your Majesty will turn to your Majesty's calendar, and then your Majesty will see, that the 47th colonel who commands the regiment of Chambery, is called 'Paul.' And, lastly, in order that your Majesty may be able to tell when I speak of a colonel, a general, or a marshal, I shall take care to indicate the rank of the officer by one, two, or three dots, placed after the 'No.' The colonel will have one dot, No. .; the general two, No. .., &c."—"Very good, very good. Here is a calendar for you. Bertrand has one which I will take."

The calendar given to me by the Emperor was richly bound, and stamped with the imperial arms. I tore off the binding. The Emperor kept walking up and down, and saying, as he laughed, "It is really excellent; they will never be able to see through it." When I had finished, he said, "One thought brings on another. I have asked myself how you would manage to write to me, if you should have any thing of unexpected importance to communicate. For instance, suppose any extraordinary event should make you think that my disembarkation ought to be accelerated or retarded; if the Bourbons were to be on their guard; in short, I know not what." He remained silent, and then began again. "I only know one way to provide for it: the confidence which I place in you ought to be unbounded. I will give you the key to a cipher which was composed for my use, in order that I might employ it in corresponding with my family under the most important circumstances. I need not tell you that you must keep it with care: always carry it about you, lest it should be lost: and if the smallest danger arises, burn it or tear it at the slightest suspicion. With this cipher you may write any thing to me which you like. I would rather that you should use it, than be under the necessity of coming back, or of sending any messenger to me. If they intercept a letter written in my cipher, it will take them three months to read it; whilst the capture of an agent might ruin all in an instant." He then went and looked out his cipher; he made me employ it under his eyes, and delivered it to me, exhorting me not to use it unless all other modes of communication should become insufficient.

The Emperor continued, "I do not suppose that you will have occasion to return here before my departure, unless the sudden overthrow of our projects should force you to seek an asylum here. In such a case, apprise me of your intended return, and I will send for you to any place which you may name. But we must hope that victory will declare for us. She loves France.... You have not spoken to me about the affair of Excelmans: if such a thing had happened in my time, I should have thought myself lost: when the authority of the master is not recognised, all is over. The more I think upon the matter (here he displayed a sudden emotion), the more I am convinced that France is mine, and that the patriots and the army will receive me with open arms."—"Yes, Sire, I swear to you, upon my soul, the people and the army will declare for you as soon as they hear your name, as soon as they see the caps of your grenadiers."—"Provided the people do seek to do themselves justice before my arrival, a popular revolution would alarm foreign powers: they would dread the contagion of example. They know that royalty only hangs by a thread, that it does not agree with the ideas of the age; they would rather see me seize the throne, than allow the people to give it to me. They have re-established the Bourbons in order to convince the people that the rights of sovereigns are sacred and inviolable. They have blundered. They would have done more for the cause of legitimacy by leaving my son there, than by re-establishing Louis XVIII. My dynasty had been recognised by France and by Europe; it had been consecrated by the Pope. They ought to have respected it. By abusing the rights of victory, it was in their power to deprive me of the throne: but it was unjust, odious, impolitic, to punish the son on account of the wrongs of his father, and to deprive him of his inheritance. I was not an usurper: they may say so as long as they like; nobody will believe them. The English, the Italians, the Germans, are now too enlightened to allow themselves to be crammed with old ideas, with antiquated notions. In the eyes of nations, the Sovereign who is chosen by the entirety of the nation, will always be the legitimate Sovereign.... The sovereigns who sent their ambassadors to me with servile solemnity; who placed in my bed a girl of their breed; who called me their brother, and who, after doing all this, have stigmatized me as an usurper, they have spit in their own faces by trying to spit at me. They have degraded the majesty of kings. They have covered majesty with mud. What is the name of an emperor? A word like any other. If I had no better title than that, when I shall present myself to future ages they would scorn me. My institutions, my benefactions, my victories—these are the true titles of my glory. Let them call me a Corsican, a corporal, an usurper.... I don't care.... I shall not be less the object of wonder, perhaps of veneration, in all future time. My name, new as it is, will live from age to age, whilst the names of all these kings, and their royal progeny, will be forgotten before the worms will have had time to consume their carcases." The Emperor stopped, and then continued; "I forget that time is precious; I will not detain you any longer. Adieu, Monsieur; embrace me, and depart; my thoughts and good wishes follow you."—Two hours afterwards I was at sea. My attention, my faculties were wholly absorbed by the Emperor, his words, his disclosures, his plans. I had neither leisure nor opportunity to think of myself. As soon as I was quite out at sea, my ideas were filled by the extraordinary part which chance had assigned to me. I contemplated it with pride, and I returned my thanks to destiny for having selected me as the instrument by which its impenetrable decrees were to be accomplished. Perhaps no man was ever placed in so "imposing" a situation. I was the arbiter of the fate of the Bourbons, and of the Emperor, of France and Europe. With one word I could destroy Napoleon; with one word I could save Louis. But Louis was nothing to me: in him I only saw a sovereign who had been forced upon the throne by foreign hands still imbrued with French blood. In Napoleon I saw the sovereign to whom France had freely offered the crown as the reward of twenty years of danger and of glory. The perspective of the evils which the attempt of Napoleon might bring upon France did not arise before my imagination. I was persuaded that all foreign powers (England excepted), would remain neutral; and that the French would receive Napoleon as a deliverer, and as a father. Still less did I consider myself as engaged in treason or conspiracy against the Bourbons. Since I had taken the oath of allegiance to Napoleon, I considered him as my legitimate sovereign; and I rejoiced to think that the confidence which Napoleon reposed in me had induced him to call upon me to concur in restoring to France the liberty, the power, and the glory of which the country had been unjustly deprived. I enjoyed, by anticipation, the public eulogiums, which, after his success, he would bestow upon my courage, my self-devotion, my patriotism. In short, I abandoned myself with rapture and with pride to all the thoughts, and all the generous resolutions which can be inspired by the love of fame and the love of our country.

The dialogues which had taken place between me and the Emperor continued impressed on my memory; yet, lest I might vary them, or omit any part, I employed my time during the voyage in recalling his own expressions, and in classing his questions and my answers. I afterwards got the whole by heart, just as a scholar learns his lesson, in order that I might be able to affirm to M. X*** that I was making a faithful and literal report to him of all that the Emperor had said, and of all that he had ordered me to tell him.

The weather being tolerably favourable, we soon reached Naples. I went immediately to M. ****: he put a great number of indiscreet questions to me; and I replied by an equal number of unmeaning answers. He probably thought that I knew no better, and therefore my caution did not offend him. When our preliminary conversation was exhausted, I desired him to give me my passport; he did so immediately: it was a Neapolitan passport. "This won't do for me," said I; "I must have a French passport."—"I have not got one."—"The Emperor told me that you could get one."—"That is just like the Emperor; he thinks every thing is possible: where does he suppose that I can procure it? I am doing a great deal in giving you a passport as a subject of his Majesty. It is already known that we are in relation with the isle of Elba. If they were to find out that you are attached to Napoleon, and that you are going back to France by his directions, and with the assistance of the King, all Europe would hear of it, and the King would be committed. Why does not the Emperor keep himself quiet? he will ruin himself, and ruin us all along with him."—"It is not fit that I should examine the conduct of his Majesty, much less that I should censure it. I am in his service; and my duty commands me to obey him. I want a French passport: can you, or can you not get me one?"—"I tell you again that it is impossible: it is doing too much if I give you one as a Neapolitan subject."—"Then I must return to Porto Ferrajo: but I cannot conceal from you that the Emperor is very desirous that I should return to France; and he will certainly be very much displeased, both with you and with the King."—"Then he will act unfairly: the King has done, and will do, every thing in his power for him: but the Emperor should know what the King may do under his present critical situation, and what he may not. But why won't you take the passport which I offer you?"—"Because I do not understand Italian, and consequently your passport would expose me to greater suspicion than my own."—"Then why don't you try to push on as far as Rome? there you will find the family of the Emperor. Louis XVIII. has a legation there; and perhaps money may get you a passport."—"Your idea is excellent: I will go. Inform the Emperor of the delay which I have experienced, in order that he may send another agent, if he thinks it advisable so to do."

When the mind is in perpetual activity, and constantly assailed by new feelings, there is no time for reflection. I thus went to Rome, full of the idea that I should visit the family of the Emperor, and request their help to aid me out of my difficulties. But when the time came, and I was to present myself, it then struck me that the Emperor, though aware that I was to pass through Rome, had not directed me to see them; and I concluded that he had his reasons. I therefore determined to continue my route. From Naples I have proceeded to Rome without any obstacle; and I shall proceed, thought I to myself, from Rome to Milan without any greater obstacle: there I shall meet my friend and his Tedesco; I will get them to legalize my French passport for the second time, and destiny will accomplish the rest.

This reasoning produced its effect; and his Eminence ordered, though he continued grumbling, that my demand was to be granted. "What are you going to do at Milan?" said he, and I think he muttered an oath between his teeth: "I am going," I answered, "relative to the dotations which were assigned to us upon the 'Mont Napoléon.'" He was satisfied with my answer, and so was I. I wrote to M. ****, the Neapolitan consul, transmitting my letter; and I requested him to send to the island an account of my new route.

I continued my journey. My passport was headed by the imperial arms. The name of Napoleon, and his title of Emperor, were inscribed in large letters. I was the first Frenchman from the island who had been able or who had dared to traverse Italy. How many things there were which roused curiosity and commanded attention! I was overwhelmed with questions relative to Porto Ferrajo and its illustrious sovereign. I answered as fully as they wished. Whilst they were busying themselves about the Emperor, they did not think of me, and that was what I wanted. In order to avoid troublesome examinations, I took care to pass through the towns at night, and never to stop in them. At length, thanks to my address and good fortune, I arrived safe and sound at Milan; there I found my friend and his colonel, and every thing was settled admirably.

I set off again for Turin with all possible speed. When I arrived on the Place of ... I perceived several numerous groups of persons, who appeared exceedingly animated. How great was my surprise when I found that they were talking of Napoleon, and his escape from the isle of Elba. This piece of intelligence, which had been just received, put me in a violent passion: I accused the Emperor of perfidiousness. I reproached him with having misled, deceived, and sacrificed me.

Here ends the memoir of M. Z****.

This officer had scarcely quitted the island of Elba, when the Emperor (and I had the particulars from his Majesty himself) acknowledged and deplored the imprudence of which he had been guilty, in sending Z*** to the continent. The character and firmness of this faithful servant were sufficiently known to him, to prevent his feeling any anxiety on his account. He was certain (I use his own words), that he would suffer himself to be cut to pieces, before he would open his mouth: but he was afraid, that the inquiries he had directed him to make on the road, the letters he might address to him, or the conferences he might have at Paris with M. X*** and his friends, would excite the suspicions of the police; and that the Bourbons would station cruizers, so as to render an escape from the island of Elba, and a landing on the coast of France, altogether impossible.

Thus the Emperor felt that there was but one way of preventing the danger, that of departing immediately.

On this point he did not hesitate. From that moment every thing assumed a different aspect in the island of Elba.

This island, but the moment before the abode of philosophy and peace, became in an instant the imperial head-quarters. Couriers, orders, and counter-orders, were incessantly going and returning from Porto Ferrajo to Longone, and from Longone to Porto Ferrajo. Napoleon, whose fiery activity had been so long enchained, gave himself up, with infinite delight, to all the cares, that his audacious enterprise demanded. But in whatever mystery he fancied he had shrouded himself, the unusual accounts he had caused to be delivered in, the particular attention he had paid to his old grenadiers, had excited their suspicion; and they scarcely doubted, that he had it in contemplation to quit the island. Every one supposed, that he would land at Naples, or in some other port of Italy: no one ventured even to imagine, that his plan was to go and expel Louis XVIII. from the throne.

On the 26th of February, at one o'clock, the guard and the officers of his household received orders to hold themselves in readiness to depart. Every thing was in motion: the grenadiers with joy resumed their arms, that so long had lain idle, and spontaneously swore, never to quit them but with life. The whole population of the country, crowds of old men, women, and children, eagerly rushed to the shore; the most affecting scenes were exhibited on all sides. They thronged round the faithful companions of Napoleon in his exile, and contended with each other for the pleasure, the honour, of touching them, seeing them, embracing them for the last time. The younger members of the families of the first distinction in the island solicited as a favour, the danger of sharing in the perils of the Emperor. Joy, glory, hope, sparkled in every eye. They knew not whither they were going, but Napoleon was present, and with him could they doubt of victory?

Napoleon, when he set foot on board his vessel, exclaimed with Cæsar, "The die is cast!" His countenance was calm, his brow serene: he appeared to think less of the success of his enterprise, than of the means of promptly attaining his object. The eyes of Count Bertrand sparkled with hope and joy: General Drouot was pensive and serious: Cambronne appeared to care little about the future, and to think only of doing his duty well. The old grenadiers had resumed their martial and menacing aspect. The Emperor chatted and joked with them incessantly: he pulled their ears and their mustachios, reminded them of their dangers and their glory, and inspired their minds with that confidence, with which his own was animated.

All were burning to know their destination: respect did not allow any one to ask the question: at length Napoleon broke silence. "Grenadiers," said he, "we are going to France, we are going to Paris." At these words every countenance expanded, their joy ceased to be mingled with anxiety, and stifled cries of "France for ever!" attested to the Emperor, that in the heart of a Frenchman the love of his country is never extinct.

""The danger appeared imminent: several of the seamen were for returning to Porto Ferrajo. The Emperor ordered them to hold on their course, as, at the worst, he had the chance either of capturing the French cruiser, or of taking refuge in the island of Corsica, where he was assured of being well received. To facilitate their manœuvres, he ordered all the luggage embarked to be thrown overboard, which was cheerfully executed at the instant.""

About noon the wind freshened a little. At four o'clock they were off Leghorn. One frigate was in sight five leagues to leeward, another on the coast of Corsica, and a man-of-war brig, which was perceived to be Le Zéphir, commanded by Captain Andrieux, was coming down upon the imperial flotilla right before the wind. It was first proposed to speak to him, and make him hoist the three-coloured flag. "The Emperor, however, gave orders to the soldiers of the guard to take off their caps and conceal themselves below, choosing rather to pass by the brig without being known, and reserving himself in case of necessity, for the alternative of making him change his colours. At six o'clock the two brigs passed alongside of each other, and their commanders, who were acquainted, spoke together. The captain of Le Zéphir inquired after the Emperor, and was answered through a speaking trumpet by the Emperor himself, that he was extremely well.

""The two brigs, steering opposite courses, were soon out of sight of each other, without Captain Andrieux having any suspicion of the valuable prize, that he had allowed to escape.

The Emperor, before he quitted the island of Elba, had prepared with his own hand two proclamations, one addressed to the French people, the other to the army; and he was desirous of having them copied out fairly. His secretary and General Bertrand, being neither of them able to decipher them, carried them to Napoleon, who, despairing of doing it himself, threw them into the sea from vexation. Then, after meditating for a few moments, he dictated to his secretary the two following proclamations on the spot.

Proclamation.

Gulf of Juan, March the 1st, 1815.

Napoleon, by the grace of God and constitution of the empire, Emperor of the French, &c. &c. &c.

To the Army.

Soldiers!

We have not been vanquished: two men, who issued from our ranks, betrayed our laurels, their country, their prince, their benefactor.

Shall they, whom we have seen for five and twenty years traversing all Europe, to stir up enemies against us—who have spent their lives in fighting against us in the ranks of foreign armies, and cursing our lovely France—now pretend to command us, and to enchain our eagles, the looks of which they could never withstand? Shall we suffer them to inherit the fruits of our glorious toils? to seize upon our honours, and our property, and calumniate our fame? Should their reign continue, all would be lost, even the remembrance of our memorable victories.

With what virulence do they distort them! They endeavour to poison what is the admiration of the world; and if any defenders of our glory still remain, it is among those very enemies whom we combated in the field.

Soldiers! in my exile I heard your voice: I am arrived through every obstacle, through every danger.

Your general, called to the throne by the voice of the people, and raised on your shields, is restored to you. Come and join him.

Tear down those colours, which the nation has proscribed, and which for five and twenty years served as a signal to rally all the enemies of France. Mount that tricoloured cockade, which you wore in our great victories. We must forget, that we have been the masters of other nations; but we must not suffer any to interfere in our affairs. Who shall pretend to be our master? Who is able to be so? Resume the eagles you bore at Ulm, at Austerlitz, at Jena, at Eylau, at Wagram, at Friedland, at Tudela, at Eckmuhl, at Essling, at Smolensko, at Moscow, at Lutzen, at Wurtchen, at Montmirail. Think you that handful of Frenchmen, now so arrogant, can support their sight? They will return whence they came; and there, if they please, they may reign, as they pretend to have reigned for nineteen years.

Your property, your rank, your glory—the property, the rank, the glory of your children—have no greater enemies than those princes, who have been imposed on us by foreigners. They are the enemies of our glory; since the recital of so many glorious actions, which have rendered illustrious the French people, fighting against them to emancipate themselves from their yoke, is their condemnation.

The veterans of the armies of the Sambre and Meuse, of the Rhine, of Italy, of Egypt, of the west, of the grand army, are humiliated; their honourable scars are disgraced; their successes would be crimes, the valiant would be rebels, if, as the enemies of the people assert, legitimate sovereigns were among the foreign armies. Their honours, rewards, affections, are for those who have served them, against us and against our country.

Soldiers, come and arrange yourselves under the standards of your chief: his existence consists only of yours; his rights are only those of the people and of you; his interest, his honour, his glory, are no other than your glory. Victory will march forward with the charge step: the eagle, with the national colours, will fly from steeple to steeple till it reaches the towers of Notre Dame. You may then display your scars with honour, you may then boast of what you have done: you will be the deliverers of your country.

In your old age, surrounded and respected by your fellow citizens, they will listen with veneration to the recital of your noble deeds: you may proudly say, I too was in that grand army which twice entered the walls of Vienna, and those of Rome, of Berlin, of Madrid, and of Moscow, and which cleansed Paris from the stain inflicted on it by treason and the presence of the enemy. Honour to those brave soldiers, the glory of their country! and eternal shame to those guilty Frenchmen, in whatever rank it was their fortune to be born, who fought for five and twenty years in company with foreigners, to wound the bosom of their country.

Signed, Napoleon.

By the Emperor.

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

Signed, Bertrand.

Proclamation.

Gulf of Juan, March 1, 1815.

Napoleon, by the grace of God and the constitution of the empire, Emperor of the French, &c. &c. &c.

To the French People.

Frenchmen!

The defection of the Duke of Castiglione gave up Lyons without defence to our enemies. The army, the command of which I had entrusted to him, was capable, from the bravery and patriotism of the troops of which it was formed, of beating the Austrian army opposed to it, and taking in the rear the left flank of the enemy's army, that threatened Paris.

Under these new and important circumstances, my heart was torn, but my mind remained unshaken: I consulted only the interests of our country, and banished myself to a rock surrounded by the seas: my life was useful to you, and was destined still to be so. I would not permit the great number of citizens, who were desirous of accompanying me, to share my fate: I deemed their presence advantageous to France, and I took with me only the handful of brave fellows necessary for my guard.

Raised to the throne by your choice, every thing that has been done without you is illegal. Within these five and twenty years France has acquired new interests, new institutions, new glory, to be guarantied only by a national government, and a dynasty born under these new circumstances. A prince who should reign over you, who should be seated on my throne by the power of the same armies, that have ravaged our territories, would seek in vain to support himself by the principles of feudal right; he could secure the honour and the rights only of a small number of individuals, enemies to the people, who have condemned them in all our national assemblies for five and twenty years. Your tranquillity at home, and estimation abroad, would be lost for ever.

Frenchmen! in my exile I heard your complaints and wishes: you called for that government of your own choice, which alone is legitimate; you blamed my long slumber; you reproached me with sacrificing the great interests of the country to my own repose.

I have crossed the seas amid perils of every kind: I arrive among you to resume my rights, which are also yours. Every thing that individuals have done, written, or said, since the taking of Paris, I shall consign to everlasting oblivion; it shall have no influence on the remembrance I retain of the important services they have rendered, for there are events of such a nature, that they are above the frame of man.