Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
to join his sister Hortense. The horses, the carriages, and one of
the Prince's aides de camp had already arrived at Plombieres, and
his residence was prepared; but he did not go. Eugène had, no doubt,
received intimation of his sister's intrigues with some of the
individuals of the late Court of Napoleon who were then at the
waters, and as he had determined to reside quietly at the Court of his
father-in-law; without meddling with public affairs, he remained at
Munich. This fact, however, passed off unnoticed.
At the end of 1814 unequivocal indications of a great catastrophe were
observable. About that time a man, whom I much esteem, and with whom I
have always been on terms of friendship, said to me, "You see how
things are going on: they are committing fault upon fault. You must
be convinced that such a state of things cannot last long. Between
ourselves, I am of opinion that all will be over in the month of March;
that month will repair the disgrace of last March. We shall then, once
for all, be delivered from fanaticism and the emigrants. You see the
intolerable spirit of hypocrisy that prevails, and you know that the
influence of the priests is, of all things, the most hateful to the
nation. We have gone back a long way within the last eight months. I
fear you will repent of having taken too active a part in affairs at the
commencement of the present year. You see we have gone a very different
way from what you expected. However, as I have often told you before,
you had good reason to complain; and after all, you acted to the best of
your judgment."
I did not attach much importance to this prediction of a change in the
month of March. I deplored, as every one did, the inconceivable
errors of "Ferrand and Company," and I hoped that the Government would
gradually return to those principles which were calculated to conciliate
the feelings of the people. A few days after another of my friends
called on me. He had exercised important functions, and his name had
appeared on a proscription list. He had claims upon the Government,
which was by no means favourably disposed towards him. I asked him how
things were going on, and he replied, "Very well; no opposition is made
to my demands. I have no reason to complain." This reminded me of the
man in the 'Lettres Persanes', who admired the excellent order of
the finances under Colbert because his pension was promptly paid. I
congratulated my friend on the justice which the Government rendered
him, as well as on the justice which he rendered to the Government, and
I remarked that if the same course were adopted towards every one all
parties would speedily be conciliated. "I do not think so," said my
friend. "If the Government persist in its present course it cannot
possibly stand, and we shall have the Emperor back again."--"That," said
I, "would be a very great misfortune; and even if such were the wish of
France, it would be opposed by Europe. You who are so devotedly attached
to France cannot be indifferent to the danger that would threaten her
if the presence of Bonaparte should bring the foreigners back again. Can
you endure to think of the dismemberment of our country?"--"That they
would never dare to attempt. But you and I can never agree on the
question of the Emperor and your Bourbons. We take a totally different
view of the matter. You had cause to complain of Bonaparte, but I had
only reason to be satisfied with him. But tell me, what would you do if
he were to return?"-- "Bonaparte return!"--"Yes."--"Upon my word, the
best thing I could do would be to set off as speedily as I could, and
that is certainly what I should do. I am thoroughly convinced that he
would never pardon me for the part I have taken in the Restoration, and
I candidly confess that I should not hesitate a moment to save my life
by leaving France."--"Well, you are wrong, for I am convinced that if
you would range yourself among the number of his friends you might have
whatever you wished--titles, honours, riches. Of this I could give
you assurance."--"All this, I must tell you, does not tempt me. I love
France as dearly, as you do, and I am convinced that she can never be
happy under Bonaparte. If he should return I will go and live abroad."
This is only part of a conversation which lasted a considerable time,
and, as is often the case after a long discussion, my friend retained
his opinion, and I mine. However, this second warning, this hypothesis
of the return of Bonaparte, made me reflect, and I soon received another
hint which gave additional weight to the preceding ones. An individual
with whom I was well acquainted, and whom I knew from his principles and
connections to be entirely devoted to the royal cause, communicated to
me some extraordinary circumstances which he said alarmed him. Among
other things he said, "The day before yesterday I met Charles de
Labedoyere, who, you know, is my intimate friend. I remarked that he had
an air of agitation and abstraction. I invited him to come and dine with
me, but he declined, alleging as an excuse that we should not be alone.
He then asked me to go and dine with him yesterday, as he wanted to
talk with me. I accepted his invitation, and we conversed a long time on
political affair's and the situation of France. You know my sentiments
are quite the reverse of his, so we disputed and wrangled, though we are
still very good friends. But what alarms me is, that at parting Charles
pressed my hand, saying, 'Adieu; to-morrow I set off for Grenoble. In a
month you will hear something of Charles de Labedoyere.'"
These three successive communications appeared to me very extraordinary.
The two first were made to me by persons interested in the event,
and the third by one who dreaded it. They all presented a striking
coincidence with the intrigues at Plombieres a few months before. In the
month of January I determined to mention the business to M. de Blacas,
who then engrossed all credit and all power, and through whose medium
alone anything could reach the sovereign. I need scarcely add that my
intention was merely to mention to him the facts without naming the
individuals from whom I obtained them. After all, however, M. de
Blacas did not receive me, and I only had the honour of speaking to his
secretary, who, if the fact deserve to be recorded, was an abbe
named Fleuriel. This personage, who was an extraordinary specimen of
impertinence and self-conceit, would have been an admirable study for a
comic poet. He had all the dignity belonging to the great secretary of
a great Minister, and, with an air of indifference, he told me that the
Count was not there; but M. de Blacas was there, and I knew it.
Devoted as I was to the cause of the Bourbons, I thought it my duty to
write that very day to M. de Blacas to request an interview; I received
no answer. Two days after I wrote a second letter, in which I informed
M. de Blacas that I had something of the greatest importance to
communicate to him; this letter remained unnoticed like the first.
Unable to account for this strange treatment I again repaired to the
Pavilion de Flore, and requested the Abbe Fleuriel to explain to me if
he could the cause of his master's silence. "Sir," said he, "I received
your two letters, and laid them before the Count; I cannot tell why he
has not sent you an answer; but Monsieur le Comte is so much engaged. .
. . Monsieur le Comte is so overwhelmed with business that"--"Monsieur
le Comte may, perhaps, repent of it. Good morning, sir!"
I thus had personal experience of the truth of what I had often heard
respecting M. de Blacas. That favourite, who succeeded Comte d'Avaray,
enjoyed the full confidence of the King, and concentrated the
sovereign power in his own cabinet. The only means of transmitting any
communication to Louis XVIII. was to get it addressed to M. de Blacas by
one of his most intimate friends.
Convinced as I was of the danger that threatened France, and unable
to break through the blockade which M. de Blacas had formed round
the person of the King, I determined to write to M. de Talleyrand at
Vienna,' and acquaint him with the communications that had been made to
me. M. de Talleyrand corresponded directly with the King, and I doubt
not that my information at length reached the ears of his Majesty. But
when Louis XVIII. was informed of what was to happen it was too late to
avert the danger.
CHAPTER IV.
1814-1815.
Escape from Elba--His landing near Cannes--March on Paris.
About the middle of summer Napoleon was visited by his mother and his
sister the Princess Pauline. Both these ladies had very considerable
talents for political intrigue, and then natural faculties in this way
had not lain dormant or been injured by want of practice. In Pauline
this finesse was partially concealed by a languor and indecision of
manner and an occasional assumption of 'niaiserie'; or almost infantine
simplicity; but this only threw people the more off their guard, and
made her finesse the more sure in its operation. Pauline was handsome
too, uncommonly graceful, and had all that power of fascination which
has been attributed to the Bonaparte family. She could gain hearts with
ease, and those whom her charms enslaved were generally ready to devote
themselves absolutely to her brother. She went and came between Naples
and Elba, and kept her brother-in-law, Murat, in mind of the fact that
the lion was not yet dead nor so much as sleeping, but merely retiring
the better to spring forward on his quarry.
Having taken this resolution and chosen his time, Napoleon kept the
secret of his expedition until the last moment; and means were found to
privately make the requisite preparations. A portion of the soldiers
was embarked in a brig called the 'Inconstant' and the remainder in
six small craft. It was not till they were all on board that the troops
first conceived a suspicion of the Emperor's purpose: 1000 or 1200 men
had sailed to regain possession of an Empire containing a population of
30,000,000! He commenced his voyage on Sunday the 26th of February 1815,
and the next morning at ten o'clock was not out of sight of the island,
to the great annoyance of the few friends he had left behind. At this
time Colonel Sir Neil Campbell was absent on a tour to Leghorn, but
being informed by the French Consul and by Spanocchi, the Tuscan
Governor of the town, that Napoleon was about to sail for the Continent,
he hastened back, and gave chase to the little squadron in the Partridge
sloop of war, which was cruising in the neighbourhood, but, being
delayed by communicating with a French frigate, reached Antibes too
late.
There were between 400 and 500 men on board the brig (the 'Inconstant')
in which Bonaparte embarked. On the passage they met with a French ship
of war, with which they spoke. The Guards were ordered to pull off their
caps and lie down on the deck or go below while the captain exchanged
some words with the commander of the frigate, whom he afterwards
proposed to pursue and capture. Bonaparte rejected the idea as absurd,
and asked why he should introduce this new episode into his plan.
As they stood over to the coast of France the Emperor was in the highest
spirits. The die was cast, and he seemed to be quite himself again. He
sat upon the deck and amused the officers collected round him with a
narrative of his campaigns, particularly those of Italy and Egypt. When
he had finished he observed the deck to be encumbered with several
large chests belonging to him. He asked the maitre d'hotel what they
contained. Upon being told they were filled with wine he ordered them
to be immediately broken open, saying, "We will divide the booty." The
Emperor superintended the distribution himself, and presented bottle by