To the Army.
Soldiers!
We have not been vanquished: two men, who issued from our ranks, betrayed our laurels, their country, their prince, their benefactor.
Shall they, whom we have seen for five and twenty years traversing all Europe, to stir up enemies against us—who have spent their lives in fighting against us in the ranks of foreign armies, and cursing our lovely France—now pretend to command us, and to enchain our eagles, the looks of which they could never withstand? Shall we suffer them to inherit the fruits of our glorious toils? to seize upon our honours, and our property, and calumniate our fame? Should their reign continue, all would be lost, even the remembrance of our memorable victories.
With what virulence do they distort them! They endeavour to poison what is the admiration of the world; and if any defenders of our glory still remain, it is among those very enemies whom we combated in the field.
Soldiers! in my exile I heard your voice: I am arrived through every obstacle, through every danger.
Your general, called to the throne by the voice of the people, and raised on your shields, is restored to you. Come and join him.
Tear down those colours, which the nation has proscribed, and which for five and twenty years served as a signal to rally all the enemies of France. Mount that tricoloured cockade, which you wore in our great victories. We must forget, that we have been the masters of other nations; but we must not suffer any to interfere in our affairs. Who shall pretend to be our master? Who is able to be so? Resume the eagles you bore at Ulm, at Austerlitz, at Jena, at Eylau, at Wagram, at Friedland, at Tudela, at Eckmuhl, at Essling, at Smolensko, at Moscow, at Lutzen, at Wurtchen, at Montmirail. Think you that handful of Frenchmen, now so arrogant, can support their sight? They will return whence they came; and there, if they please, they may reign, as they pretend to have reigned for nineteen years.
Your property, your rank, your glory—the property, the rank, the glory of your children—have no greater enemies than those princes, who have been imposed on us by foreigners. They are the enemies of our glory; since the recital of so many glorious actions, which have rendered illustrious the French people, fighting against them to emancipate themselves from their yoke, is their condemnation.
The veterans of the armies of the Sambre and Meuse, of the Rhine, of Italy, of Egypt, of the west, of the grand army, are humiliated; their honourable scars are disgraced; their successes would be crimes, the valiant would be rebels, if, as the enemies of the people assert, legitimate sovereigns were among the foreign armies. Their honours, rewards, affections, are for those who have served them, against us and against our country.