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WE
were enjoying the breezes of a fine March morning when suddenly an
officer issued from the palace and whispered to us that Bonaparte
had landed! Had a thunderbolt fallen at our feet its effects could
not have produced a more terrible sensation than did this unexpected
intelligence on our hearts. We instantly returned home, and that night
it was no longer a secret in Paris. Some could not conceal the terror
the name of Napoleon always inspires; others, judging from their own
loyal sentiments, exclaimed, "The hand of God is to be seen in this!"
Another party, appreciating present circumstances, rejoiced in the
idea that he would be taken and secured forever; as if Napoleon, in
risking the chance of success, had not secured the means of insuring
it! The king issued an ordonnance declaring him a traitor. The Chamber
of Deputies was convened, an express sent for Marshal Ney. The king,
preserving admirable calmness and confidence in his subjects, received
the ambassadors, saying, "Write, gentlemen, to your respective courts
that I am in good health, and that the mad enterprise of this man
will no longer trouble the repose of Europe nor my own." The Prince
de Conde, notwithstanding his advanced age, offered his services.
His Majesty
passed in review the troops, addressed the most flattering compliments
to their generals, who surrounded him, and said to General Rapp,
"Notwithstanding that this is not the siege of Danzig, I count always
upon your courage and fidelity!" Rapp, affected, turned away and
exclaimed, "One must be a villain to betray such a king." He rendered
himself justice, and unconsciously pronounced his own panegyric
in advance. When the Duc de Berri appeared he was received with
enthusiasm. La Maison do Roi solicited to march with him against
their common enemy, but elsewhere all remained in a state of apathy.
An extensive confederacy on one side, want of means on the other,
an inefficient organization in every department---our great confidence
was in Ney; Ney departed with promises to bring back Napoleon dead
or alive. He kissed the king's hand, and, shedding tears, renewed
his oaths of fidelity for himself and his army.
The Duc de
Feltre (Clarke) was named minister of war. Our fluctuating hopes
rose and fell like the mercury in a weather-glass, but this nomination
revived them. Clarke had been called "the calculating Irishman,"
but the loyal party now extol him, and say that he forgot himself
at the epoch that others forgot only what they owed to their king.
"What will Talleyrand do? Will he, amidst the congregated ministers
of the Allies, remain steady to his last oaths to Louis? " was constantly
echoing through our salons during the first days of consternation.
The streets
were quieter than usual; every person seemed to have a more serious
mien, and to be preoccupied. Of the beau-monde some had fled, others
kept within their hotels. No carriages of the opulent contested
the passage with the cabriolets or with the vehicles of commerce,
no belles skipped lightly along. In the shops few purchasers, and
those few looking gloomy and silent; suspicion and fear seemed to
predominate. Entering two or three shops where I had been in the
habit of purchasing, they exclaimed, "Softly! softly! mademoiselle;
speak low, we are surrounded with spies." At the open stalls, and
in the shops on the bridges and on the quays, the proprietors were
busily occupied in removing the engravings, and other emblems of
the Bourbons, and replacing those of the usurper and his military
partisans. Ladders were placed at the corners of the streets and
against the shops, while workmen were effacing the names and brevets
of the Bourbon dynasty, to be replaced by those of the Corsican
family, or in haste substituting a design analogous to the merchandised
within. We entered for a moment the Chamber of Deputies. The flags
taken in the different campaigns were brought from their concealed
depots. The President's chair, embroidered with fleur-de-lis, was
being removed. "Where will you find another?" I hastily demanded.
"The old chair is in the garret," was the quick reply. In a few
moments it was brought down; the portraits of the king and of the
princes were already removed from their frames, and those of Napoleon
and Maria Louisa had replaced them.
On the 19th
of March cries were heard of "Vive we Roi!" in the square of Louis
XV. On the morning of the 20th they were supplanted by shouts of
"Vive l'Empereur!" The next morning I determined to see Napoleon,
but when our carriage arrived at the Pont Royal thousands were collected
there. Our servant advised us to descend and proceed on foot. The
crowd civilly made way: they were waiting to see the review. An
unusual silence prevailed, interrupted only by the cries of the
children, whom the parents were thumping with energy for crying
"Vive we Roi!" instead of "Vive l'Empereur!" which some months before
they had been thumped for daring to vociferate! A friend recommended
us to proceed to the review, to see which he had the good-nature
to procure me admittance to a small apartment in the Tuileries,
and from the window I saw and heard for the first time the scourge
of the Continent---his martial, active figure, mounted on his famed
white horse. He harangued with energetic tone (and in those bombastic
expressions we have always remarked in all his manifestos, and which
are so well adapted to the French) the troops of the divisions of
Lefol and Defour. There was much embracing of the "Ancient Eagles"
of the Old Guard, much mention of "great days and souvenirs dear
to his heart," of the "scars of his brave soldiers," which, to serve
his views, we will reopen without remorse. The populace were tranquil,
as I had remarked them on the bridge. Inspirited by my still unsatisfied
curiosity I rejoined my escort and proceeded to the gardens, where
not more than thirty persons were collected under the windows. There
was no enthusiastic cry, at least none seemed sufficient to induce
him to show himself. In despair at not being able to contemplate
his physiognomy at greater advantage, I made my cavalier request
some persons in the throng to cry, "Vive l'Empereur!" Some laughed
and replied, "Wait a moment," while others advised us to desire
some of the children to do so. A few francs thrown to the latter
soon stimulated their voices into cries of the loyalty of the day,
and Napoleon presented himself at the window, but he retired often
and reappeared. A few persons arrived from the country and held
up petitions, which he sent an aide-de-camp to receive. His square
face and figure struck me with involuntary emotion. I was dazzled,
as if beholding a supernatural being. There was a sternness spread
over his expansive brow, a gloom on the lids of his darkened eye,
which rendered futile his attempts to smile. Something Satanic sported
round his mouth, indicating the ambitious spirit of the soul within!
Much agitation
seemed to reign in the salon. The ministers and generals paced up
and down with their master in reciprocal agitation and debate. The
palace has now the appearance of a fortress, the retreat of a despot,
not the abode of a sovereign confiding in the loyalty of his people,
and recalled by their unanimous voice, but feeling that he is only
welcomed back by military power, whose path was smoothed by the
peasantry of Dauphiny. A range of artillery is now placed before
it; soldiers stretched on straw repose under the finely-arched corridors,
and military casqued heads even appear from the uppermost windows.
Napoleon had the gallant consideration the day after his return
to renew the guard of honor at the hotel of the Dowager Duchess
of Orleans, to whom he has always accorded the respect due to royalty.
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