In the meantime, Fortune had not entirely abandoned the Bourbons. That part of the Buonapartist conspiracy which was to have been executed in the north was discovered and disconcerted. Lefebvre Desnouettes, discreditably known in England by his breach of parole, with the two Generals Lallemand, were the agents in this plot. On the 10th March, Lefebvre marched forward his regiment to join Buonaparte; but the officers having discovered his purpose, he was obliged to make his escape from the arrest with which he was threatened. The two Lallemands put the garrison of Lisle, to the number of 6000 men, in motion, by means of forged orders, declaring there was an insurrection in Paris. But Maréchal Mortier, meeting the troops on the march, detected and defeated the conspiracy, by which, had it taken effect, the King and Royal Family must have been made prisoners. The Lallemands were taken, and to have executed them on the spot as traitors, might have struck a wholesome terror into such officers as still hesitated; but the ministers of the King did not possess energy enough for such a crisis.101
The progress of Buonaparte, in the meantime, was uninterrupted. It was in vain that, at Lyons, Monsieur and the Duke of Orleans, with the assistance of the advice and influence of Maréchal Macdonald, endeavoured to retain the troops in their duty, and the inhabitants in their allegiance to the King. The latter, chiefly manufacturers, afraid of being undersold by those of England in their own market, shouted openly, "Vive l'Empereur!" The troops of the line remained silent and gloomy. "How will your soldiers behave?" said Monsieur to the colonel of the 13th Dragoons. The colonel referred him to the men themselves. They answered candidly, that they would fight for Napoleon alone. Monsieur dismounted, and addressed the soldiers individually. To one veteran, covered with scars, and decorated with medals, the prince said, "A brave soldier like you, at least, will cry, Vive le Roi!" – "You deceive yourself," answered the soldier. "No one here will fight against his father – I will cry, Vive Napoleon!" The efforts of Macdonald were equally vain. He endeavoured to move two battalions to oppose the entry of Buonaparte's advanced guard. So soon as the troops came in presence of each other, they broke their ranks, and mingled together in the general cry of "Vive l'Empereur!" Macdonald would have been made prisoner, but the forces whom he had just commanded would not permit this consummation of revolt. Monsieur was obliged to escape from Lyons, almost alone. The guard of honour formed by the citizens, to attend the person of the second of the Bourbon family, offered their services to Napoleon; but he refused them with contempt, while he sent a cross of honour to a single dragoon, who had the loyalty and devotion to attend Monsieur in his retreat.
Buonaparte, now master of the ancient capital of the Gauls, and at the head of 7000 men, was acknowledged by Maçon, Chalons, Dijon, and almost all Burgundy. Marseilles, on the contrary, and all Provence, declared against the invader, and the former city set a price upon his head.
Napoleon found it necessary to halt at Lyons for the refreshment of his forces; and, being joined by some of the civilians of his party, he needed time also to organise his government and administration. Hitherto, the addresses which he had published had been of a military character, abounding with the Oriental imagery which Buonaparte regarded as essential to eloquence, promising that victory should move at the charging step, and that the eagle should fly with the national colours from steeple to steeple, till she perched on the towers of Notre Dame. The present decrees were of a different character, and related to the internal arrangement of his projected administration.
DECREES – AUXERRE
Cambacérès was named his minister of justice; Fouché, that of police (a boon to the revolutionists;) Davoust was made minister of war. Decrees upon decrees issued forth, with a rapidity which showed how Buonaparte had employed those studious hours at Elba, which he was supposed to have dedicated to the composition of his Memoirs. They ran in the name of Napoleon, by the grace of God, Emperor of the French, and were dated on the 13th of March, although not promulgated until the 21st of that month. The first of these decrees abrogated all changes in the courts of justice and tribunals which had taken place during the absence of Napoleon. The second displaced all officers belonging to the class of emigrants, and introduced into the army by the King. The third suppressed the order of St. Louis, the white flag and cockade, and other royal emblems, and restored the three-coloured banner and the imperial symbols of Buonaparte's authority. The same decree abolished the Swiss Guard, and the household troops of the King. The fourth sequestered the effects of the Bourbons. A similar ordinance sequestered the restored property of emigrant families, and was so artfully worded as to represent great changes of property having taken place in this manner. The fifth decree of Lyons suppressed the ancient nobility and feudal titles, and formally confirmed proprietors of national domains in their possessions. The sixth, declared sentence of banishment against all emigrants not erased from the list previous to the accession of the Bourbons, to which was added confiscation of their property. The seventh restored the Legion of Honour, in every respect as it had existed under the Emperor, uniting to its funds the confiscated revenues of the order of St. Louis. The eighth and last decree was the most important of all. Under pretence that emigrants who had borne arms against France, had been introduced into the body of the Peers, and that the Chamber of Deputies had already sat for the legal time, it dissolved both Chambers, and convoked the Electoral Colleges of the empire, in order that they might hold, in the ensuing month of May, an extraordinary assembly of the Champ-de-Mai. This convocation, for which the inventor found a name in the history of the ancient Franks, was to have two objects: First, to make such alterations and reformations in the constitution of the empire as circumstances should render advisable; secondly, to assist at the coronation of the Empress and of the King of Rome.
We cannot pause to criticise these various enactments. In general, however, it may be remarked, that they were admirably calculated to serve Napoleon's cause. They flattered the army, and at the same time heated their resentment against the emigrants, by insinuating that they had been sacrificed by Louis to the interest of these his followers. They held out to the Republicans a speedy prospect of confiscations, proscriptions, and revolutions of government; while the Imperialists were gratified with a view of ample funds for pensions, offices, and honorary decorations. To the proprietors of national domains was promised security; to the Parisians, the spectacle of the Champ-de-Mai; and to all France, peace and tranquillity, since the arrival of the Empress and her son, so confidently asserted to be at hand, must be considered as a pledge of the friendship of Austria. Russia was also said to be friendly to Napoleon, and the conduct of Alexander toward the members of Buonaparte's family, was boldly appealed to as evidence of the fact. England, it was averred, befriended him, else how could he have escaped from an isle surrounded by her naval force? Prussia, therefore, alone, might be hostile and unappeased; but, unsupported by the other belligerent powers, Prussia must remain passive, or would soon be reduced to reason. The very pleasure in mortifying one, at least, of the late victors of Paris, gave a zest and poignancy to the revolution, which the concurrence of the other great states would, according to Buonaparte, render easy and peaceful. Such news were carefully disseminated through France by Napoleon's adherents. They preceded his march, and prepared the minds of men to receive him as their destined master.
On the 13th, Buonaparte recommenced his journey, and, advancing through Maçon, Chalons, and Dijon, he reached Auxerre on the 17th March. His own mode of travelling rather resembled that of a prince, who, weary of the fatigue of state, wishes to extricate himself, as much as possible, from its trammels, than that of an adventurer coming at the head of an army of insurgents, to snatch a crown from the head of the lawful monarch who wore it. He travelled several hours in advance of his army, often without any guard, or, at most, attended only by a few Polish lancers. The country through which he journeyed was favourable to his pretensions. It had been severely treated by the allies during the military manœuvres of the last campaign, and the dislike of the suffering inhabitants extended itself to the family who had mounted the throne by the influence of these strangers. When, therefore, they saw the late Emperor among them alone, without guards, inquiring, with his usual appearance of active interest, into the extent of their losses, and making liberal promises to repair them, it is no wonder that they should rather remember the battles he had fought in their behalf against the foreigners, than think on the probability that his presence among them might be the precursor of a second invasion.
The revolutionary fever preceded Buonaparte like an epidemic disorder. The 14th regiment of lancers, quartered at Auxerre, trampled under foot the white cockade at the first signal; the sixth regiment of lancers declared also for Napoleon, and without waiting for orders, drove a few soldiers of the household troops from Montereau, and secured that important post, which commands the passage of the Seine.
The dismay of the royal government at the revolt of Lyons, was much increased by false tidings which had been previously circulated, giving an account of a pretended victory obtained by the Royalist party in front of that town. The conspiracy was laid so deep, and extended so widely through every branch of the government, that those concerned contrived to send this false report to Paris in a demi-official form, by means of the telegraph. It had the expected effect, first, in suspending the preparations of the loyal party, and afterwards in deepening the anxiety which overwhelmed them, when Monsieur, returning almost unattended, brought the news of his bad success.
FOUCHÉ – NEY
At this moment of all but desperation, Fouché offered his assistance to the almost defenceless King. It is probable, that the more he reflected on the character of his old master, Napoleon, the deeper became his conviction, that they knew each other too well ever to resume an attitude of mutual confidence. Nothing deterred, therefore, by the communications which he had opened with the Imperialists, he now demanded a secret audience of the King. It was refused, but his communications were received through the medium of two confidential persons deputed by Louis. Fouché's language to them was that of a bold empiric, to whom patients have recourse in a moment of despair, and who confidently undertake the most utterly hopeless cases. Like such, he exacted absolute reliance on his skill – the most scrupulous attention to his injunctions – the most ample reward for his promised services; and as such, too, he spoke with the utmost confidence in the certainty of his remedy, whilst observing a vague yet studious mystery about the ingredients of which it was composed, and the mode in which it would operate. He required of Louis XVIII. that he should surrender all the executive authority to the Duke of Orleans, and all the ministerial Offices to himself and those whom he should appoint; which two conditions being granted, he undertook to put a period to Buonaparte's expedition. The Memoirs of this bold intriguer affirm, that he meant to assemble all that remained of the revolutionary party, and oppose the doctrines of Liberty and Equality to those of the glory of France, in the sense understood by Buonaparte.102 What were the means that such politicians, so united, had to oppose to the army of France, Fouché has not informed us;103 but it is probable, that, to stop the advance of 10,000 armed men, against whom the revolutionists could now scarce even array the mob of the suburbs, the ex-minister of police must have meditated the short sharp remedy of Napoleon's assassination, for accomplishing which, he, if any man, could have found trusty agents.
The King having refused proposals, which went to preserve his sceptre by taking it out of his hands, and by further unexplained means, the morality of which was liable to just suspicion, Fouché saw himself obliged to carry his intrigues to the service of his old master. He became, in consequence, so much an object of suspicion to the Royalists, that an order was issued for his arrest.104 To the police agents, his own old dependents, who came to execute the order, he objected against the informality of their warrant, and stepping into his closet, as if to draw a protest, he descended by a secret stair into his garden, of which he scaled the wall. His next neighbour, into whose garden he escaped, was the Duchess de St. Leu; so that the fugitive arrived, as if by a trick of the stage, in the very midst of a circle of chosen Buonapartists, who received him with triumph, and considered the mode of his coming among them as a full warrant for his fidelity.105
Louis XVIII. in his distress, had recourse to the assistance of another man of the Revolution, who, without possessing the abilities of Fouché, was perhaps, had he been disposed to do so, better qualified than he to have served the King's cause. Maréchal Ney was called forth to take the command of an army destined to attack Napoleon in the flank and rear as he marched towards Paris, while the forces at Melun opposed him in front. He had an audience of the King on the 9th of March, when he accepted his appointment with expressions of the most devoted faith to the King, and declared his resolution to bring Buonaparte to Paris like a wild beast in an iron cage. The maréchal went to Besançon, where, on the 11th of March, he learned that Buonaparte was in possession of Lyons. But he continued to make preparations for resistance, and collected all the troops he could from the adjoining garrisons. To those who objected to the bad disposition of the soldiers, and remarked that he would have difficulty in inducing them to fight, Ney answered determinedly, "They shall fight; I will take a musket from a grenadier and begin the action myself; – I will run my sword to the hilt in the first who hesitates to follow my example." To the minister at war he wrote, that all were dazzled by the activity and rapid progress of the invader; that Napoleon was favoured by the common people and the soldiers; but that the officers and civil authorities were loyal, and he still hoped "to see a fortunate close of this mad enterprise."
In these dispositions, Ney advanced to Lons-le-Saulnier. Here, on the night betwixt the 13th and 14th March, he received a letter from Napoleon, summoning him to join his standard, as "bravest of the brave," a name which could not but awake a thousand remembrances. He had already sounded both his officers and soldiers, and discovered their unalterable determination to join Buonaparte. He therefore had it only in his choice to retain his command by passing over to the Emperor, or else to return to the King without executing any thing which might seem even an effort at realizing his boast, and also without the army over which he had asserted his possession of such influence.
Maréchal Ney was a man of mean birth, who, by the most desperate valour, had risen to the highest ranks in the army. His early education had not endowed him with a delicate sense of honour or a high feeling of principle, and he had not learned either as he advanced in life. He appears to have been a weak man, with more vanity than pride, and who, therefore, was likely to feel the loss of power more than the loss of character. He accordingly resolved upon adhering to Napoleon. Sensible of the incongruity of changing his side so suddenly, he affected to be a deliberate knave, rather than he would content himself with being viewed in his real character, of a volatile, light-principled, and inconsiderate fool. He pretended that the expedition of Napoleon had been long arranged between himself and the other maréchals. But we are willing rather to suppose that this was matter of mere invention, than to think that the protestations poured out at the Tuileries, only five days before, were, on the part of this unfortunate man, the effusions of premeditated treachery.
The maréchal now published an order of the day, declaring that the cause of the Bourbons was lost for ever. It was received by the soldiers with rapture, and Buonaparte's standard and colours were instantly displayed. Many of the officers, however, remonstrated, and left their commands. One, before he went away, broke his sword in two, and threw the pieces at Ney's feet, saying, "It is easier for a man of honour to break iron than to infringe his word."
TREASON OF NEY – MELUN
Ney was received by Napoleon with open arms.106 His defection did incalculable damage to the King's cause, tending to show that the spirit of treason which possessed the common soldiers, had ascended to and affected the officers of the highest rank in the army.
The King, in the meanwhile, notwithstanding these unpromising circumstances, used every exertion to induce his subjects to continue in their allegiance. He attended in person the sitting of the Chamber of Deputies, and was received with such enthusiastic marks of applause, that one would have thought the most active exertions must have followed. Louis next reviewed the national guards, about 25,000 men, who made a similar display of loyalty. He also inspected the troops of the line, 6000 in number, but his reception was equivocal. They placed their caps on their bayonets in token of respect, but they raised no shout.
Some of those about Louis's person continued to believe that these men were still attached to the King, or that at any rate, they ought to be sent to the camp at Melun, which was the last remaining point upon which the royal party could hope to make a stand.
As a last resource, Louis convoked a general council at the Tuileries on the 18th March. The generals present declared there could be no effectual opposition offered to Buonaparte. The royalist nobles contradicted them, and, after some expressions of violence had been uttered, much misbecoming the royal presence, Louis was obliged to break up the meeting, and prepare himself to abandon a capital, which the prevalence of his enemies, and the disunion of his friends, left him no longer any chance of defending.
Meantime, the two armies approached each other at Melun; that of the King was commanded by the faithful Macdonald. On the 20th, his troops were drawn up in three lines to receive the invaders, who were said to be advancing from Fontainbleau. There was a long pause of suspense, of a nature which seldom fails to render men more accessible to strong and sudden emotion. The glades of the forest, and the acclivity which ascends to it, were full in view of the royal army, but presented the appearance of a deep solitude. All was silence, except when the regimental bands of music, at the command of the officers, who remained generally faithful, played the airs of Vive Henri Quatre—O, Richard—La Belle Gabrielle, and other tunes connected with the cause and family of the Bourbons. The sounds excited no corresponding sentiments among the soldiers. At length, about noon, the galloping of horse was heard. An open carriage appeared, surrounded by a few hussars, and drawn by four horses. It came on at full speed; and Napoleon, jumping from the vehicle, was in the midst of the ranks which had been formed to oppose him. His escort threw themselves from their horses, mingled with their ancient comrades, and the effect of their exhortations was instantaneous on men, whose minds were already half made up to the purpose which they now accomplished. There was a general shout of Vive Napoleon!– The last army of the Bourbons passed from their side, and no farther obstruction existed betwixt Napoleon and the capital, which he was once more – but for a brief space – to inhabit as a sovereign.
Louis XVIII. had anticipated too surely the defection which took place, to await the consequence of its actual arrival. The King departed from Paris, escorted by his household, at one in the morning of the 20th March. Even at that untimely hour, the palace was surrounded by the national guards, and many citizens, who wept and entreated him to remain, offering to spend the last drop of their blood for him. But Louis wisely declined accepting of sacrifices, which could now have availed nothing. Escorted by his household troops, he took the way to Lisle. Maréchal Macdonald, returning from the fatal position of Melun, assumed the command of this small body, which was indeed augmented by many volunteers, but such as considered their zealous wishes, rather than their power of rendering assistance. The King's condition was, however, pitied and respected, and he passed through Abbeville, and other garrison towns, where the soldiers received him with sullen respect; and though indicating that they intended to join his rival, would neither violate his person nor insult his misfortunes. At Lisle he had hoped to make a stand, but Maréchal Mortier, insisting upon the dissatisfied and tumultuary state of the garrison, urged him to proceed, for the safety of his life; and, compelled to a second exile, he departed to Ostend, and from thence to Ghent, where he established his exiled court. Maréchal Macdonald took leave of his Majesty on the frontiers, conscious that by emigrating he must lose every prospect of serving in future either France or her monarch. The household troops, about two hundred excepted, were also disbanded on the frontiers. They had been harassed in their march thither by some light horse, and in their attempt to regain their homes in a state of dispersion, some were slain, and almost all were plundered and insulted.
In the meanwhile, the Revolution took full effect at Paris. Lavalette, one of Buonaparte's most decided adherents, hastened from a place of concealment to assume the management of the post-office in the name of Napoleon, an office which he had enjoyed during his former reign. He was thus enabled to intercept the royal proclamations, and to announce to every department officially the restoration of the Emperor. Excelsman, the oath of fealty to the king, à toutes épreuves, scarce dry upon his lips, took down the white flag, which floated on the Tuileries, and replaced the three-coloured banner.
RE-ENTERS PARIS
It was late in the evening ere Napoleon arrived in the same open carriage, which he had used since his landing. There was a singular contrast betwixt his entry and the departure of the King. The latter was accompanied by the sobs, tears, and kind wishes of those citizens who desired peace and tranquillity, by the wailing of the defenceless, and the anxious fears of the wise and prudent. The former entered amid the shouts of armed columns, who, existing by war and desolation, welcomed with military acclamations the chief who was to restore them to their element. The inhabitants of the suburbs cheered in expectation of employment and gratuities, or by instigation of their ringleaders, who were chiefly under the management of the police, and well prepared for the event. But among the immense crowds of the citizens of Paris, who turned out to see this extraordinary spectacle, few or none joined in the gratulation. The soldiers of the guard resented their silence, commanded the spectators to shout, struck with the flat of their swords, and pointed their pistols at the multitude, but could not, even by these military means, extort the expected cry of Liberty and Napoleon, though making it plain by their demeanour, that the last, if not the first, was returned to the Parisians. In the court of the Carousel, and before the Tuileries, all the adherents of the old Imperial government, and those who, having deserted Napoleon, were eager to expiate their fault, by now being first to acknowledge him, were assembled to give voice to their welcome, which atoned in some degree for the silence of the streets. They crowded around him so closely, that he was compelled to exclaim – "My friends, you stifle me!" and his adjutants were obliged to support him in their arms up the grand staircase, and thence into the royal apartments, where he received the all-hail of the principal devisers and abettors of this singular undertaking.
Never, in his bloodiest and most triumphant field of battle, had the terrible ascendency of Napoleon's genius appeared half so predominant as during his march, or rather his journey, from Cannes to Paris. He who left the same coast disguised like a slave, and weeping like a woman, for fear of assassination, reappeared in grandeur like that of the returning wave, which, the farther it has retreated, is rolled back on the shore with the more terrific and overwhelming violence. His looks seemed to possess the pretended power of northern magicians, and blunted swords and spears. The Bravest of the Brave, who came determined to oppose him as he would a wild beast, recognised his superiority when confronted with him, and sunk again into his satellite. Yet the lustre with which Napoleon shone was not that of a planet duly moving in its regular sphere, but that of a comet, inspiring forebodings of pestilence and death, and
"with fear of change,
Perplexing nations."
The result of his expedition was thus summed by one of the most eloquent and best-informed British statesmen.107
"Was it," said the accomplished orator, "in the power of language to describe the evil? Wars which had raged for twenty-five years throughout Europe; which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, and from Naples to Copenhagen; which had wasted the means of human enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social improvement; which threatened to diffuse among the European nations the dissolute and ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery – at length by one of those vicissitudes which bid defiance to the foresight of man, had been brought to a close, upon the whole happy beyond all reasonable expectation, with no violent shock to national independence, with some tolerable compromise between the opinions of the age and the reverence due to ancient institutions; with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the legitimate interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of men, and, above all, without those retaliations against nations or parties which beget new convulsions, often as horrible as those which they close, and perpetuate revenge and hatred and blood from age to age. Europe seemed to breathe after her sufferings. In the midst of this fair prospect, and of these consolatory hopes, Napoleon Buonaparte escaped from Elba; three small vessels reached the coast of Provence; their hopes are instantly dispelled; the work of our toil and fortitude is undone; the blood of Europe is spilt in vain —
"Ibi omnis effusus labor!"