Scarcity of Provisions.—Ridiculous Allowance of Wine.—Napoleon’s Return from Elba

14th.—The terrible state of the weather still continued, and confined us to our miserable huts. We are all indisposed.

The Emperor dictated during part of the day, and he felt himself much better.

At dinner we had literally scarcely any thing to eat. The Governor continued his successive reductions. The Emperor ordered some additional provisions to be purchased and paid for out of the produce of the sale of his plate.

The Governor intimated that the allowance of wine should continue fixed at one bottle for each person, the Emperor included. Will it be credited? One bottle for a mother and her children! these were the words used in the note.

The Emperor retired to his own apartment, and sent for me to attend him. “I am not inclined to sleep,” said he, “and I sent for you to help me to keep my vigil; let us have a little chat together.” The turn of the conversation led us to speak of the Island of Elba, of the Emperor’s occupations, sensations, and opinions while he continued there; finally, his return to France, and the brilliant success which attended him, and which, he said, he never for a moment doubted. Many observations were repeated, which I have already noted down at different times. At one moment he said: “They may explain this as they will: but I assure you, I never entertained any direct or personal hatred of those whose power I subverted. To me it was merely a political contest: I was astonished myself to find my heart free from animosity, and, I may add, animated by good will towards my enemies. You saw how I released the Duke d’Angoulême; and I would have done the same by the King, and even have granted him an asylum of his own choosing. The triumph of the cause in no way depended on his person, and I respected his age and his misfortunes. Perhaps also I felt grateful for a certain degree of consideration which he in particular had observed towards me. It is true that, at the moment to which I am now alluding, he had, I believe, outlawed me and set a price upon my head; but I looked upon all this as belonging to the manifesto style. The same kind of denunciations were also issued by the Austrian government, without, however, giving me much uneasiness; though I must confess that my dear father-in-law was rather too hard with the husband of his beloved daughter.”

Since I have once more had occasion to mention the Emperor’s return from the Island of Elba, this is, perhaps, the proper place to fulfil the promise I have made of giving a narrative of the circumstances connected with that extraordinary event. I here combine together the statements that fell from him at different times.

Napoleon was residing at the Island of Elba, on the faith of treaties, when he learned that at the Congress of Vienna some idea was entertained of transporting him from Europe. None of the articles of the treaty of Fontainebleau were fulfilled. The public papers informed him of the state of feeling in France, and he accordingly formed his determination. He kept the secret until the last moment; and, under one pretence or another, means were found for making the requisite preparations. It was not until they were all on board that the troops first conceived a suspicion of the Emperor’s purpose: a thousand or twelve hundred men had set sail to regain possession of an empire containing a population of thirty millions!

There were nearly five or six hundred men on board the brig in which Napoleon embarked; this was, he said, the crew of a seventy-four. They fell in with a French brig of war, which they spoke. It was asserted that the captain of the French brig recognised them, and at parting cried out three times, “A good voyage to you!” At all events, the officer who commanded the Emperor’s vessel, proposed to pursue and capture the brig. The Emperor rejected the idea as absurd; such a proceeding could only have been excusable, had necessity demanded it. “Why,” said he, “should I introduce this new incident into my plan? What advantage should I derive from its success? To what risks would its failure expose me!”

After the check they experienced on landing, by the capture of twenty men who had been sent to summon Antibes, a variety of opinions was advanced, and urged with some warmth. Some proposed that they should make immediately an attack and carry Antibes, in order to obviate the evil consequences which might ensue from the resistance of that place and the imprisonment of the twenty men. The Emperor replied that the taking of Antibes would be no step towards the conquest of France; that, during the brief interval that would be occupied in the execution of that project, a general alarm would be raised throughout the country; and that obstacles would be opposed to them in the only course which it was expedient they should pursue. He added that time was valuable; and that the ill consequences of the affair of Antibes might be effectually obviated by marching forward with sufficient speed to anticipate the news. An officer of the guard indirectly hinted that it was not right thus to abandon the twenty men who had been made prisoners; but the Emperor merely observed that he had formed a poor idea of the magnitude of the enterprise; that, if half of his followers were in the same situation, he would not scruple to abandon them in the same manner; and that if they were all made prisoners, he would march forward alone.

A few hours before nightfall he landed at the gulf of Juan, where he bivouacked. Soon after, a postilion in splendid livery was conducted to him. It turned out that this man had formerly been in the Imperial household. He had been a domestic of the Empress Josephine’s, and was now in the service of the Prince of Monaco, who himself had been equerry to the Empress. The postilion, on being questioned by the Emperor, informed him, after expressing his great astonishment at finding him there, that he had just come from Paris, and that he was sure he would every where be joyfully greeted. He affirmed that all along the road, as far as AvignonAvignon, he had heard nothing but regret for the Emperor’s absence; that his name was publicly in every mouth, and that, when once fairly through Provence, he would find the whole population ready to rally round him. The man added, that his splendid livery had frequently rendered him the object of odium and insult. This was the testimony of one of the common class of society: it was very gratifying to the Emperor, and entirely corresponded with his expectations. The Prince of Monaco himself, on being presented to Napoleon, was less explicit. Napoleon refrained from questioning him on political matters: there were persons present, and he did not wish to incur the risk of eliciting any detail which might create unfavourable impressions on those about him. The conversation therefore assumed a lively character, and turned entirely on the ladies of the Imperial court of the Tuileries, concerning whom Napoleon made the minutest inquiries.

As soon as the moon had risen, which was about one or two o’clock in the morning, the bivouack broke up, and Napoleon gave orders for proceeding to Grasse. There he expected to find a road which he had ordered during the Empire. However, the design had not been executed, and he was reduced to the necessity of passing through narrow defiles filled with snow. He therefore left behind him, in the charge of the municipality of Grasse, his carriage and two pieces of cannon, which had been brought ashore: this was termed a capture in the bulletins of the time.

The municipality of Grasse was devoted to the royalist party; but the sudden appearance of the Emperor afforded little time for hesitation, and they came to make their submission to him. The Emperor, having passed through the town, halted on a little height at some distance beyond it, where he breakfasted. He was soon surrounded by the whole population of the town: and went through this multitude as though he had been in the midst of his Court circle at the Tuileries. He heard the same sentiments and the same prayers as before he quitted France. One complained of not having received his pension, another solicited an addition to his allowance, a third represented that his cross of the legion of honour had been withheld from him, a fourth prayed for promotion, &c. A number of petitions had already been drawn up and were presented to him, just as though he had come from Paris, and was making a tour through the departments.

Some enthusiastic patriots, who were well acquainted with the state of affairs, secretly informed Napoleon that the authorities of the place were very hostile, but that the mass of the people were devoted to him, and that they only waited until his back should be turned, in order to rid themselves of the miscreants. “Be not too hasty,” said the Emperor. “Let them have the mortification of seeing our triumph, without having any thing to reproach us with. Be tranquil and prudent.”

The Emperor advanced with the rapidity of lightning. “Victory,” said he, “depended“depended on my speed. To me France was in Grenoble. This place was an hundred leagues distant, but I and my companions reached it in five days, and by what roads and what weather! I entered the city just as the Count d’Artois, warned by the telegraph, was quitting the Tuileries.”Tuileries.”

Napoleon himself was so perfectly convinced of the state of affairs, and of popular sentiment, that he knew his success in no way depended on the force which he might bring with him. A piquet of gendarmerie, he said, was all that was necessary. Every thing turned out as he had calculated: “Victory advanced au pas de charge, and the national Eagle flew from steeple to steeple, till at length it perched on the towers of Notre Dame.” The Emperor, however, admitted that at first he was not without some degree of alarm and uncertainty. As he advanced, it is true, the whole population enthusiastically declared themselves in his favour; but he saw no soldiers: they were all carefully removed from the places through which he passed. It was not until he was between Mure and Vizille, within five or six leagues of Grenoble, and on the fifth day after his embarkation, that he met the first battalion. The commanding officer refused even to parley. The Emperor, without hesitation, advanced alone, and one hundred of his grenadiers marched at some distance from him, with their arms reversed. The sight of Napoleon, his costume, and in particular his grey military great coat, produced a magical effect on the soldiers, and they stood motionless. Napoleon went straight up to a veteran, whose arm was covered with chevrons, and very unceremoniously seizing him by the whisker, asked him whether he would have the heart to kill his Emperor. The soldier, his eyes moistened with tears, immediately thrust the ramrod into his musquet, to shew that it was not loaded, and exclaimed, “See, I could not have done thee any harm: all the others are the same.” Cries of Vive l’Empereur! resounded on every side. Napoleon ordered the battalion to make half a turn to the right, and all marched on to Paris.

At a little distance from Grenoble, Colonel Labédoyère, at the head of his regiment, came to join the Emperor. The impulse was then confirmed, and the question was nearly decided.

The peasantry of Dauphiny lined the road-sides: they were transported and mad with joy. The first battalion, which has just been alluded to, still shewed some signs of hesitation; but thousands crowded on its rear, and by their shouts of Vive l’Empereur! endeavoured to urge the troops to decision; while others, who were in Napoleon’s rear, excited his little troop to advance, declaring that no harm whatever would be done to it.

In a valley through which they passed, a very affecting spectacle presented itself: many communes were assembled together, accompanied by their mayors and curates. Amidst the multitude was observed a handsome young man, a grenadier of the Guard, who had been missing since the time of Napoleon’s landing, and whose disappearance had given rise to suspicion. He now advanced and threw himself at the Emperor’s feet: the tears glistened in his eyes, and he supported in his arms an old man of ninety, whom he presented to the Emperor:—this was his father, in quest of whom he had set off as soon as he landed in France. The Emperor, after his arrival at the Tuileries, ordered a picture of this circumstance to be painted.

It was night when Napoleon arrived before the walls of Grenoble: his promptitude defeated all the measures that were to have been taken to oppose him. There was no time to cut down the bridges, nor even to put the troops in motion. He found the gates of the city closed, and the colonel commanding the fortress refused to open them. “A peculiar circumstance attending this extraordinary revolution,” said the Emperor, “was that the soldiers were not deficient, to a certain degree, in discipline and obedience to their commanding officers: their only resistance was by inert force, of which they availed themselves as of a right.” Thus the first battalion performed all the movements that were ordered, retired and refused to communicate; but the men did not load their guns, and they would not have fired. When Napoleon arrived before Grenoble, the whole garrison, assembled on the ramparts, shouted Vive l’Empereur! They shook hands with Napoleon’s followers, through the wickets; but they would not open the gates, because the commander had forbidden them to do so. The Emperor found it necessary to force the gates; and this was done under the mouths of ten pieces of artillery on the ramparts, loaded with grape-shot. To complete this union of singular circumstances, the commander of the first battalion and the colonel, who had so openly opposed the Emperor, when asked by him whether he could depend on them, replied that he could;—that their troops had deserted them, but that they would never desert their troops; and that, since the men had declared themselves for Napoleon, they also would be faithful to him. The Emperor retained these officers in his service.

In none of his battles did Napoleon ever imagine himself to be in so much danger as at his entrance into Grenoble. The soldiers seemed to turn upon him with furious gestures; for a moment it might have been supposed that they were about to tear him in pieces. But these were merely transports of love and joy. The Emperor and his horse were both borne along by the multitude; and he had scarcely time to breathe in the inn where he alighted, when an increased tumult was heard in the streets: the inhabitants of Grenoble came to offer him the gates of the city, since they could not present him with the keys.

“Being once established in Grenoble,” said the Emperor, “and having attained a positive power, I could have maintained hostilities had it been necessary to do so.”

Napoleon, at this time, very much regretted not having got his proclamations printed at the Island of Elba; but of course this could not have been done without the risk of promulgating his secret designs. He dictated his proclamations on board the brig, where every man who could write was employed in copying them. It was found necessary to transcribe them over again during the Emperor’s march to Paris, that they might be circulated on the road, so eager was the demand for them. They were then very scarce, often incorrect and even illegible; and yet the necessity of promulgating them was felt at every step, for wherever they were read they produced an immediate and powerful sensation. The events of the last twenty years have contributed in a high degree to enlighten the mass of the people, for, notwithstanding the joy they felt at the Emperor’s return, they eagerly enquired what was his object. All were satisfied with the national sentiments contained in the proclamations; and the utmost joy was evinced when it was understood that Napoleon had brought no foreign troops with him. His advance had been so rapid and his movements so unexpected, that a thousand reports had been circulated respecting the amount and nature of his forces. It was said that he was accompanied by Neapolitans, Austrians, and even Turks.

From Grenoble to Paris, Napoleon may be said to have made a triumphal march. During the four days of his stay at Lyons, there were continually upwards of twenty thousand persons assembled before his windows, and their acclamations were incessant. It would never have been supposed that the Emperor had for a moment been separated from his subjects. He signed decrees, issued orders, reviewed troops, &c.; all military corps, all public bodies, all classesclasses of the citizens, eagerly came forward to offer him their homage and demonstrate their attachment. Even the national horse guards, a corps composed of men who had shewn themselves most ardent in the Royalist cause, solicited the honour of forming his escort; but these were the only persons whom the Emperor treated with coldness. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I thank you for this offer of your services; but your conduct towards the Count d’Artois sufficiently proves how you would act by me, were fortune to forsake me. I will not subject you to this new trial.” On quitting Lyons, the Count d’Artois, it is said, found only one of the guards willing to follow him to Paris. The Emperor, whose heart was so keenly alive to every generous sentiment, on hearing of the fidelity of this volunteer, ordered the decoration of the legion of honour to be presented to him.

At Lyons, Napoleon issued orders, through the medium of proclamations, with all that precision, firmness, and confidence, which usually attend established and uninterrupted power. His conduct indicated no trace of the terrible reverses he had so lately sustained, or the great risks he had yet to encounter. If it were possible to mention every circumstance, that took place, I could relate a very pleasant private anecdote indicative of the calmness of mind evinced by Napoleon, during the great crisis which was about to change the face of France and to rouse all Europe.

As soon as the Emperor quitted Lyons, he wrote to inform Ney, who, with his army, was at Lons-le-Saunier, that he must immediately march with his forces to join him. Ney, amidst the general confusion, abandoned by his troops, confounded by the Emperor’s proclamations, the addresses of Dauphiny, and the defection of the garrison of Lyons, overpowered by the enthusiasm of the people of the surrounding provinces—Ney, the child of the Revolution, yielded to the general impulse, and issued his famous order of the day. But the recollection of the events of Fontainebleau induced him to write to the Emperor, informing him that, in his recent conduct he had been guided principally by a view to the interests of his country; and that, convinced he must have forfeited all claim to Napoleon’s confidence, he solicited permission to retire from the service. The Emperor again wrote, desiring that he would immediately come and join him, and that he would receive him as he had done the day after the battle of the Moscowa. Ney, on presenting himself before the Emperor, was much embarrassed; and repeated that, if he had lost his confidence, he asked for nothing but to be reduced to the rank of one of his grenadiers. “Certainly,” said the Emperor, “he had behaved very ill to me; but how could I forget his brilliant courage, and the many acts of heroism that had distinguished his past life! I rushed forward to embrace him, calling him the ‘bravest of the brave’—and from that moment we were reconciled.”

The Emperor went nearly post haste all the way from Lyons to Paris. He no where experienced opposition, and no fighting took place. Literally his presence produced merely a theatrical change of scene. His advanced guard was composed of the troops which happened to be before him on the road, and to which couriers were sent forward. Thus Napoleon entered Paris, escorted by the very troops who in the morning had been sent out to oppose him. A regiment posted at Montereau spontaneously crossed the bridge, repaired to Melun, and charged a party of the body guards who were stationed at the latter place: this circumstance, it is said, occasioned the sudden departure of the Royal family.

The Emperor frequently told us that, if he had chosen, he might have brought with him to Paris two millions of peasants. On his approach the people every where rose in a mass; and he often repeats that there were no conspirators excepting opinion.

On the day after Napoleon’s arrival at the Tuileries, some one having remarked to him that his life was a succession of prodigies, but that the last surpassed all the rest, I heard him say in reply, that his only merit, in this instance, consisted in having formed a just opinion of the state of affairs in France, and in having been able to penetrate into the hearts of Frenchmen. At another time he said to us, when conversing on this subject: “If I except Labédoyère, who flew to me with enthusiasm and affection, and another individual who freely rendered me important services, nearly all the other generals whom I met on my route evinced hesitation and uncertainty: they yielded only to the impulse of their troops, if indeed they did not manifest a hostile feeling towards me.

“It is now clear to every one,” said he, “that Ney quitted Paris quite devoted to the King, and that if he turned against him a few days afterwards, it was because he thought he could not do otherwise.

“I was so far from relying at all on Massena that, on my landing in France, I felt it necessary to get past him with all speed; and on my asking him some time after, at Paris, how he would have acted, had I not left Provence so precipitately as I did, he was frank enough to reply that he should feel some embarrassment in answering me; but that the course I had pursued was, at all events, the safest, and the best.best.

“Saint-Cyr found himself in danger by attempting to restrain the soldiers under his command.

“Soult confessed to me that he had conceived a sincere regard for the King, so much did he admire his government; and he would not return to my service until after the Champ de Mai.

“Macdonald never made his appearance, and the Duke of Belluno followed the King to Ghent. Thus,” said he, “if the Bourbons have reason to complain of the complete desertion of the soldiers and the people, they certainly have no right to reproach with infidelity the chiefs of the army, those pupils or even leaders of the Revolution, who, in spite of twenty-five years’ experience, proved themselves, in this instance, mere children in politics. They could neither be looked upon as emigrants nor patriots!”

Napoleon seemed instinctively attached to his grand principle of acting only on masses and by masses. Both at the commencement of the enterprise, and after his landing in France, he was repeatedly urged to treat with some of the authorities, but he constantly returned the same excellent answer: “If I still hold a place in the hearts of the people, I need concern myself but little about persons in authority, and if I could only rely on the latter, what service could they render me in opposing the great mass?”

The following fact will shew how little communication Napoleon had maintained with the capital. On the morning of his entry into Paris, after his return from the Isle of Elba, a hundred and fifty half-pay officers quitted St. Denis, where they had been stationed by the Princes, and marched to the capital, bringing with them four pieces of artillery. They were met on the road by some generals, who placed themselves at their head; and the little troop thus proceeded to the palace of the Tuileries, where they assembled together the heads of the different departments of the ministry, who all agreed to act in the name of the Emperor. Thus Paris was tranquilly governed that day by the torrent of opinion and the transport of private affections. None of the great partisans of the Emperor, none of his former ministers, having received any communication from him, dared sign an order, or assume any responsibility. The public papers would not have appeared next day but for the zeal of private individuals, who, spontaneously and without authority, filled them with expressions of the feelingsfeelings by which they were animated, and with the statements of passing events. In the same manner Lavalette took possession of the post-office. Paris was that day without police and without government, and yet never did greater tranquillity prevail in the capital.

The Emperor entered the Tuileries about nine o’clock in the evening, with an escort of a hundred horse, just as if he had come from one of his country residences. On alighting, he was almost squeezed to death by a crowd of military officers and citizens, who thronged around him, and fairly carried him in their arms into his saloon. Here he found dinner ready, and he was just sitting down to table, when the officer who had been despatched in the morning to Vincennes to summon the fortress, arrived. He brought intelligence of the capitulation of the commandant, whose only conditions were, that he should receive a passport for himself and his family.

It is a very singular circumstance that, on the morning after the Emperor’s arrival at the Tuileries, while a messenger had gone out to procure a tri-coloured flag, one was found at the pavilion Marsan, during the search that was made, as a matter of prudence, through the palace. This flag was immediately hoisted. It was quite new, and larger than the usual size. No one could guess how it had got into the Tuileries, and for what purpose it had been intended.

In fact, the more light there is thrown on the subject, the more evident it must be that there was no other conspiracy than that of the nature of things. Party-spirit alone can seek in the present age to raise a doubt on this point; history will have none.

A few days after Napoleon’s removal to Longwood, his return from Elba became the subject of conversation among the officers who were presented to him, when one of them observed that that astonishing event presented to the eyes of Europe the contrast of all that was most feeble and most sublime, the Bourbons abandoningabandoning a monarchy, and flying on the approach of a single man, who by his own individual efforts boldly undertook the conquest of an empire. “Sir,” said the Emperor, “are mistaken, you have taken a wrong view of the matter. The Bourbons were not wanting in courage; they did all they could. The Count d’Artois flew to Lyons; the Duchess d’Angoulême proved herself an amazon in Bourdeaux, and the Duke d’Angoulême offered as much resistance as he could. If, in spite of all this, they could attain no satisfactory object, the fault must not be attributed to them, but to the force of circumstances. The Bourbons, individually, could do no more than they really did; the contagion had spread in every direction.”