[Tappan Introduction]
The determination of Louis XVIII and the
Royalists to put everything back where it was before the Revolution aroused great
dissatisfaction. Many began to long for the return of Napoleon. In March, 1815, their
wish came to pass, for Napoleon landed on the shores of France. He had only a few
followers, but as he pushed on to Paris, his old soldiers hurried forward to join him. His
whole journey was one glowing welcome. The following account was written by an English
lady, a partisan of the Bourbons, who was in Paris at the time of Napoleon's arrival.
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.
