Every thing being finished, on the 13th Napoleon departed; and profoundly moved with the affection the Lyonese had shown him, he bade them adieu in the following words:
"Lyonese,
"At the moment of quitting your city to repair to my capital, I feel it necessary, to make known to you the sentiments with which you have inspired me: you have always ranked with the foremost in my affections. On the throne or in exile, you have always displayed the same feelings towards me: the lofty character that distinguishes you, has merited my entire esteem: in a period of greater tranquillity, I shall return, to consider the welfare of your manufactures, and of your city.
"Lyonese, I love you."
These last words were the ingenuous expression of his feelings: in dictating, he pronounced them with that indefinable charm, that was impressed on his words when they came from the heart.
So much has been said of the hardness of Napoleon's heart, and the harshness of his language, that whatever is at variance with the received opinion must appear fabulous. Yet it is a truth, and they who have been about the Emperor's person will vouch for it, that he was far from being so unfeeling, as he was commonly thought. His military education, and the necessity of commanding fear and respect, had rendered him grave, severe, and inflexible; and had accustomed him, to check and despise the suggestions of his sensibility. But when nature resumed her rights, he felt a delight in yielding to the movements of his soul, and he then expressed the emotions or sentiments, that had overpowered him, in an ardent and impassioned tone, and with a sweetness and grace, as seducing as it was inimitable.
Indeed the Lyonese merited the esteem and love, that Napoleon avowed for them. Though yet young, I have more than once seen popular displays of enthusiasm and infatuation; yet never did I see any thing comparable to the transports of joy and tenderness, that burst from the Lyonese. Not only the quays, and the places near the palace of the Emperor, but even the most distant streets rung with perpetual acclamations[59]. Workmen and their masters, the common people and the citizens, rambled about the city arm in arm, singing, dancing, and giving themselves up to the impulse of the most ardent gaiety. Strangers stopped one another, shook hands, embraced, and congratulated each other on the return of the Emperor, as if he had conferred on them fortune, life, and honour.
The national guard, affected by the confidence he had shown it, by entrusting to it the care of his person, participated with equal ardour the general intoxication; and the day of Napoleon's departure was a day of sorrow and regret to the city of Lyons, as that of his arrival had been a day of real festivity.
We slept at Macon. The Emperor would not alight at the prefect's, but went to lodge at the sign of the Savage. He found it was no longer necessary, to wait at the gates of the towns, as at Grenoble and Lyons: the people and the magistrates ran out to meet him, and disputed the honour of being foremost, to do him homage, and express their good wishes.
The next morning he received the felicitations of the national guard, the municipal body, &c. One of the colleagues of the mayor gave us a long, ridiculous harangue, which amused us much. When he had finished, the Emperor said to him: "You were much astonished, then, at hearing of our having landed?"—"Yes, faith:" answered the orator: "when I knew you had landed, I said to every body, the man must be mad, he will never be able to escape."—Napoleon could not help laughing at this simplicity. "I know," said he, with a sarcastic smile, "that you are all a little inclined to be frightened; you gave me a proof of this last campaign; you should have behaved as the men of Chalons did; you did not maintain the honour of the Burgundians."—"It was not our fault, Sire," said one of the party: "we were badly commanded; you had not given us a good mayor."—"That is very possible; we have all been guilty of foolish actions, and they must be forgotten: the safety and happiness of France are henceforward the only objects, to which we ought to attend." He dismissed them in a friendly manner.