Part 16

In the bosom of faithful friendship the Emperor disburdened his mind of the chagrin, that the refusal of his services by the committee occasioned him. "Those people," said he to M. de Bassano, "are blinded by their avidity of enjoying power, and continuing to act the sovereign. They feel, that, if they replaced me at the head of the army, they would be no longer any thing more than my shadow; and they are sacrificing me and their country to their pride, to their vanity. They will ruin every thing." After a few moments silence he added: "But why should I let them reign? I abdicated, to save France, to save the throne of my son. If this throne must be lost, I had rather lose it in the field of battle than here. I can do nothing better for all of you, for my son, and for myself, than throw myself into the arms of my soldiers. My presence will electrify the army, will be a clap of thunder to the foreign powers. They will be aware, that I return to the field, to conquer or die: and, to get rid of me, they will grant all you ask. If, on the contrary, you leave me to gnaw my sword here; they will laugh at you, and you will be forced to receive Louis XVIII. _cap in hand_. We must come to a close: if your five Emperors will not have me, to save France, I must dispense with their consent. It will be sufficient for me, to show myself, and Paris and the army will receive me a second time, as their deliverer."--"I do not doubt it, Sire," answered M. de Bassano: "but the chamber will declare against you: perhaps it will even venture, to declare you outlawed. On the other hand, Sire, if fortune should not prove favourable to your efforts; if the army, after performing prodigies of valour, should be overpowered by numbers; what will become of France? what will become of your Majesty? The enemy will be justified in abusing their victory; and perhaps your Majesty would have to reproach yourself with having caused the ruin of France for ever."--"Come, I see, I must always give way." The Emperor remained some minutes, without uttering another word. He then said: "You are right: I ought not to take upon myself the responsibility of so great an event. I ought to wait, till the voice of the people, of the soldiers, of the chambers recall me. But how is it, that Paris does not call for me? Do not the people then perceive, that the allies give you no credit for my abdication?"--"Sire, so much uncertainty pervades their minds, that they cannot come to an understanding with each other. If they were fully convinced, that it is the intention of the allies, to restore Louis XVIII., perhaps they would not hesitate to speak out; but they entertain hopes, that the allies will keep their promises."--"That infamous Fouché deceives you. The committee suffers itself, to be led by him. It will have severe reproaches to make itself. There is nobody in it worth any thing, except Caulincourt and Carnot: and they are badly fitted with associates. What can they do with a traitor, a couple of blockheads[74], and two chambers, that do not know what they would be at? You all believe, like innocents, the fine promises of the foreign powers. You believe, that they will give you a fowl in the pot, and a prince of your own liking, do you not? You deceive yourselves. Alexander, in spite of his magnanimous sentiments, suffers himself to be influenced by the English: he is afraid of them; and the Emperor of Austria will do, as he did in 1814, what others think proper."

[Footnote 74: This epithet was not an insult in the mouth of Napoleon. He even applied it commonly to his ministers, when they showed any irresolution.]

This conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Generals P. and Chartran. They had already been refused admittance twice: but this time they declared, that they would not go away, till they had spoken with the Emperor. Their business was, to get money from him. General Chartran, as fatally inspired as Labedoyère, told him, that he had ruined himself in his service; that the Bourbons were on the point of returning; that he should be shot, if he had not money to make his escape; and that money he must have. Napoleon caused a thousand crowns, to be given to each; and they went away. The Princess Hortensia, afraid that these illustrious Cossacks should do the Emperor some ill turn, would generously have given them whatever they asked. I had infinite difficulty in tranquillising her, and making her understand, that they had more design on the purse than the person of Napoleon.

After they were departed, Napoleon gave me some commands for Paris. I returned thither. The moment I entered the Tuileries, the committee had just been informed, that the enemy, after having beaten our troops, was advancing with all speed to Paris. This news rendered the government uneasy; and, as there was no orderly officer then at hand, the Duke of Vicenza requested me, to go and reconnoitre. I set off. On my arrival at the entrance of Bourget, I met General Reille with his army. He informed me, that the enemy was following him; but that there was no reason, to be in fear for the capital. "I know not what is passing there," said he to me; "but this very moment the brother of M. de Talleyrand was brought before me. He had with him a false passport, under the name of Petit. I had an inclination, to send him before the committee of government: but he declared to me, that he was employed by it on a mission as important as it was urgent; and as, at all events, one enemy more can do us no injury, I thought it better to let him pass, than risk the frustrating of his mission by useless delays." I hastened to return, to calm the anxiety of the government.

As soon as I was at liberty, I flew to Malmaison. Napoleon, who felt himself obliged by this continual posting, always condescended to receive me immediately. I gave him an account of every thing, that could be interesting to him. I did not omit to inform him, that the enemy was already master of part of the environs of Paris; and that it was important for him, to be on his guard. "I shall have no fear of them to-morrow," said he to me; "I have promised Decrès to set out, and I will be gone to-night. I am tired of myself, of Paris, of France. Make your preparations, and do not be out of the way."--"Sire," answered I, "when I promised yesterday, to attend your Majesty, I consulted only my attachment; but when I imparted this resolution to my mother, she conjured me by her gray hairs, not to desert her. Sire, she is seventy-four years old[75]: she is blind; my brothers have perished in the field of honour; she has only me, me alone in the world, to protect her: and I confess to your Majesty, that I had not the heart to refuse her."--"You have done well," said Napoleon to me, "you owe yourself to your mother: remain with her. If at some future time you should be master of your own actions, come to me: you will always be well received."--"Your Majesty is resolved, then," I replied, "to depart?"--"What would you have me do here now?"--"Your Majesty is right: but...."--"But what? would you have me remain?"--"Sire, I confess to your Majesty, I cannot look on your departure without alarm."--"In fact the path is difficult; but fortune and a fair wind...."--"Ah, Sire! fortune is no longer in our favour: besides, whither will your Majesty go?"--"I will go to the United States. They will give me land, or I will buy some, and we will cultivate it. I will end, where mankind began: I will live on the produce of my fields and my flock."--"That will be very well, Sire: but do you think, that the English will suffer you, to cultivate your fields in peace?"--"Why not? what harm could I do them?"--"What harm, Sire! Has your Majesty then forgotten, that you have made England tremble? As long as you are alive, Sire, or at least at liberty, she will dread the effects of your hatred and your genius. You were perhaps less dangerous to her on the degraded throne of Louis XVIII., than you would be in the United States. The Americans love and admire you: you have a great influence over them; and you would perhaps excite them to enterprises fatal to England."--"What enterprises? The English well know, that the Americans would lose their lives to a man in defence of their native soil; but they are not fond of making war abroad. They are not yet arrived at a pitch, to give the English any serious uneasiness. Some future day perhaps, they will be the avengers of the seas; but this period, which I might have had it in my power to accelerate, is now at a distance. The Americans advance to greatness but slowly."--"Admitting, that the Americans can give England no serious uneasiness at this moment, your presence in the United States will at least furnish it with an occasion, to stir up Europe against them. The combined powers will consider their work as imperfect, till you are in their possession; and they will compel the Americans, if not to deliver you up, at least to expel you from their territory."--"Well! then I will go to Mexico. I shall there find patriots, and will put myself at their head."--"Your Majesty forgets, that they have leaders already: people bring about revolutions for themselves, not for others; and the chiefs of the independents would be disconcerted by your Majesty's presence, if they did not oblige you, to seek an asylum elsewhere...."--"Well, I will leave them as they are; and go to Caracas; if I do not find myself well received there, I will go to Buenos Ayres; I will go to California; in fine, I will go from shore to shore, till I meet with an asylum against the malignancy and persecutions of men."--"Supposing your Majesty to speak seriously, can you reasonably flatter yourself with continually escaping the snares and fleets of the English?"--"If I cannot escape them, they will take me: their government is good for nothing, but the nation is great, noble, generous; they will treat me as I ought to be treated. After all, what would you have me do? Do you wish, that I should suffer myself to be taken here like a dolt by Wellington, and give him the pleasure of parading me in triumph through the streets of London like King John? Since my services are refused, there is but one step I can take: to depart. The destinies will do the rest."--"There is still another, Sire, if I dared suggest it to you: your Majesty is not a man to run away."--"What do you call running away?" said Napoleon with a proud and angry look: "where do you see me running away?"--"I entreat your Majesty not to dwell on that expression."--"Go on, go on."--"I think then, Sire, that your Majesty ought not thus to quit France, first, for your safety's sake, next for your honour's. The English are informed, that you have the intention of going to the United States; and no doubt our coasts already swarm with their cruisers. This is not all: your Majesty is aware of the hatred and perfidy of the Duke of Otranto: and who can say, whether secret orders have not been issued, to delay your departure, or retard the progress of the vessels, that you may be taken by the English? I consider it impossible, therefore, that your Majesty should escape them; or, if you should escape, but that you must ultimately fall into their hands, sooner or later. In this dilemma, it is right, at least, to endeavour to fall as nobly as possible."--"What are you driving at?" said Napoleon peevishly, thinking I meant to propose suicide to him: "I know, I might say, like Hannibal, 'Let us deliver them from the terror my name inspires:' but suicide is the business only of minds not thoroughly steeled, or of distempered brains. _Whatever my destiny may be, I will never hasten my end a single moment._"--"Such is not my meaning, Sire; and, since your Majesty condescends to listen to me, were I in your place, I would renounce the chimerical hope of finding an asylum in a foreign country; and I would say to the chambers: I abdicated, in order to disarm our enemies; I learn, that they are not satisfied; if they must have my liberty, or my life, I am ready, to place myself in their hands, happy to be able at this price, to save France and my son. How noble it would be," exclaimed I, "to see Napoleon the Great, after having laid down the crown placed on his head by twenty years of victory, offering himself as a sacrifice to the independence of his country!"--"Yes, yes," said Napoleon, "the sacrifice would be noble; but a nation of thirty millions of souls, that could suffer it, would be dishonoured for ever. Besides, to whom shall I surrender myself? to Blucher? to Wellington? They have not the power necessary, to treat with me on such conditions. They would begin with making me their prisoner; and then would do with me, and with France, whatever they took into their heads."--"I would surrender myself, Sire, to the Emperor Alexander."--"To Alexander! you know nothing of those Russians. It would cost the lives of both of us. However, your idea deserves consideration: I will reflect upon it. Before taking a step, that cannot be retracted, it is proper to look at it twice. The sacrifice of myself would be nothing on my own account; but perhaps it would be lost to France. The faith of an enemy is never to be trusted. See if Maret and Lavalette be here, and send them to me."

[Footnote 75: The uneasiness given her by the terrors of 1815 conducted her to the grave. I hope the reader will pardon me these particulars, and this note.]

Every thing, that bears the stamp of greatness of mind, seduces and transports me. I confess, that my imagination was fired at the idea of Napoleon generously devoting himself for France, and for his son. But this remark of Napoleon's, "A nation of thirty millions of men, that could suffer such a sacrifice, would be for ever dishonoured," a remark that I had not foreseen, dissipated the enchantment. On quitting the closet, I was stopped by the Duke of Rovigo, who said to me: "You have been talking a long while with the Emperor, has any thing new passed?"--"No," answered I; "we have been talking of his departure:" and I gave him an account of our conversation. "Your advice was noble," replied he; "but what I gave him was, I think, preferable. It was, to come and fall with us before the walls of Paris. He will not do so; because, in the first place, Fouché will not leave it in his power; and, in the next, because the fear of endangering every thing has laid hold of him. He will set off to-night. God knows whither we shall go: but no matter, I will follow him. My first object is, to know that he is out of danger. Besides, I would rather ramble at a venture with him, than remain here. Fouché thinks, that he shall get himself out of the scrape: he is mistaken; he will be hanged like the rest, and more richly deserve it. France is sunk, lost! I wish I was dead!"

While I was conversing with the Duke of Rovigo, Napoleon was discussing the proposal, which I had ventured to submit to him. Several times he was on the point of adopting it; but still recurred to his prevailing idea, that such a sacrifice was unworthy a great nation; and that France probably would derive no more advantage from it, than had been derived from his abdication. All things considered, therefore, Napoleon resolved, to entrust his fate "to fortune and the winds." But the committee, advised by a despatch from our plenipotentiaries, which I shall transcribe farther on, "that the escape of Napoleon, before the conclusion of the negotiations, would be considered by the allies as an act of bad faith on our part, and would compromise the safety of France," directed him to be informed, that unforeseen political circumstances compelled it, to subject his departure anew to the arrival of the safeconduct. Thus Napoleon was obliged to remain.

I returned to Paris. Here I learned, that the enemy had made immense progress; and, according to custom, I was desirous of getting off, to acquaint Napoleon with it. The barriers were strictly closed, and no one could go out without permission. I endeavoured to obtain one. The Duke of Otranto answered me, that my presence with the cabinet was necessary; and ordered me to remain. I knew, that one Chauvin, who was to go with the Emperor, was setting out for Malmaison. I ran to acquaint him with what was passing; and directed him, to give the information to Count Bertrand. At the same moment M. G. D.[76], informed, I know not by what means, that the Prussians designed, to carry off the Emperor; that Blucher had said, "If I can catch Bonaparte, I will hang him up at the head of my army;" and that Wellington had strenuously opposed this cowardly and criminal design, M. G. D. hastened, to transmit this information to Napoleon; and soon after found means, by favour of his employment in the national guard, to repair in person to Malmaison. Napoleon made him relate at large all he knew. When he was acquainted with the position of the Prussians, he laid it down on the map[77], and said with a smile: "Aha! so I have suffered myself in fact to be turned." He then sent an orderly officer, to see whether the bridges of Bezons and Peck had been broken down. He found, that the latter was not. "I desired it, however: but I am not surprised at it."

[Footnote 76: From accounts communicated to me.]

[Footnote 77: That is, be marked out the enemy's positions with pins.]

The Emperor then made some arrangements, to secure himself against a surprise: but these precautions were superfluous; he had found, without calling for it, an inviolable rampart against the enterprises of his enemies in the devotion of his old companions in arms. The soldiers, officers, and generals, posted in the direction of Malmaison, sent him assurances, that they would watch over him, and were ready to pour out their blood to the last drop in his defence. One of the commanders of the red lancers of the guard, the young de Brock, rendered himself particularly distinguished by his indefatigable zeal.

The schemes of Blucher, and the proximity of our troops to the place where the Emperor was detained, gave the committee the most serious alarms.

They had at once to fear:

That Napoleon, roused by the sound of arms, and the acclamations of his faithful soldiers, would be unable to repress the desire of coming to fight at their head:

That the army, still idolizing its ancient general, would come to tear him from his state of repose, and oblige him to lead it against the enemy:

Or, lastly, that the enemy would contrive to seize his person by surprise, or by force.

The removal of the Emperor to a distance would quiet at once this state of anxiety: but the despatch of the plenipotentiaries stood in the way; and the committee, restrained by the fear of offending the allies, dared not either oblige, or even authorize Napoleon to remove. Meantime the Duke of Wellington informed M. Bignon, "that he had no authority from his government, to give any answer whatever to the demand of a passport and safeconduct for Napoleon Bonaparte." Having no longer any plausible pretence for detaining him, and unwilling to take on itself the disgrace and responsibility of events, the committee no longer hesitated on the path it had to pursue: it directed the Duke Decrès and Count Boulay, to go immediately to the Emperor (it was half after three in the morning); to inform him, that Lord Wellington had refused the safeconducts; and to notify to him the injunction, to depart immediately.

The Emperor received this communication without any emotion, and promised to be gone in the course of the day.

Orders were immediately given to General Beker, not to allow him to return:

To the prefect of the Lower Charente, to prevent his stay at Rochefort, as far as possible:

To the commandant of the marine, not to suffer him to set foot on shore, from the moment he should embark, &c. &c. &c.

Never was criminal surrounded with precautions more numerous, and at the same time more useless.

If Napoleon, instead of yielding to the fear of compromising the independence and existence of the nation, had wished to revive a second 20th of March, neither the instructions of General Beker, nor the threats of Marshal Davoust, nor the intrigues of M. Fouché, could have prevented him: it would have been sufficient for him to make his appearance. The people, the army, would have received him with enthusiasm and not one of his enemies, the Prince of Eckmuhl at their head, would have dared to lift their eyes, and oppose his triumph.

The moments preceding his departure were exceedingly affecting. He conversed with the few friends, who had not deserted him, on the great vicissitudes of fortune. He deplored the evils, which their devotion to his person, and to his dynasty, would accumulate on their heads; and exhorted them, to oppose their strength of mind, and the purity of their consciences, to the persecutions of their enemies. The fate of France, who can doubt it? was also the object of his anxious and tender solicitude: he put up ardent prayers for its repose, its happiness, and its prosperity.

When information was brought him, that all was ready, he pressed the Princess Hortensia affectionately to his bosom; tenderly embraced his friends, melting into tears; and recommended to them a new unity, courage, and resignation. His demeanour was firm, his voice calm, his countenance serene: not a complaint, not a reproach, escaped his lips.

On the 29th of June, at five in the afternoon, he threw himself into a carriage prepared for his suite; and made General Gourgaud, and his orderly officers, take that intended for himself. His eyes were several times turned towards that last abode, so long the witness of his happiness and his power. He thought, no doubt, that he should see it again no more!

He had demanded, that an advice-boat should be placed under his orders; and that rear-admiral Violette should have the command of his convoy. The committee, which, in all its intercourse with the Emperor, had not ceased to pay him the most respectful attention, readily complied with these demands. Admiral Violette being absent, it was agreed, that the command should be given to the senior captain of the two frigates; and the following are the instructions given him.

"_Instructions for Captain Philibert, commanding the Saale, and Poncé, commanding the Medusa._

"VERY SECRET.

"The two frigates are appointed, to carry him, who was lately our Emperor, to the United States of America.

"He will embark in the Saale, with such persons of his suite as he shall choose. The rest will embark in the Medusa.

"The baggage will be distributed between the two frigates agreeably to his directions.

"If, previous to sailing, or on the voyage, the Medusa shall be found to be a swifter sailer than the Saale, he will go on board the Medusa, and captains Philibert and Poncé will exchange their commands.

"The profoundest secrecy is to be kept respecting the embarkation, which will be conducted under the care of the maritime prefect, as well as respecting the person on board.

"Napoleon travels, incognito; and he will make known himself the name and title, by which he chooses to be called.

"Immediately after his embarkation, all communication with the shore must cease.

"The commanders of the frigates, the officers, and the crews, will be informed by their own hearts, that it is their duty, to treat him personally with all the attention and respect due to his situation, and to the crown he has worn.

"When on board, the highest honours will be paid him, unless refused by himself. He will dispose of the interior of the frigates for his own accommodation, in whatever manner he may deem most convenient, without detriment to their means of defence. His table, and the service of his person, will be conducted as he shall direct.