At eleven o'clock he dictated to me the orders of the day; and these orders announced, that we should sleep at Essonne. It was not till noon, that the news of the King's departure was brought at once by a courier from M. de Lavalette, by a letter from Madame Hamalin, and by M. de Ség.... He sent for me immediately. "You will set out first," he said, "to get every thing ready."—"It is to Essonne, I presume, your Majesty orders me to repair?"—"No, to Paris. The King and the Princes have fled. I shall be at the Tuileries this evening." He gave me some secret directions, and I quitted Fontainbleau with a heart full of happiness and joy. I had never doubted Napoleon's triumph; but from hope to reality how great the distance!
In fact the King had quitted Paris.
The aspect of affairs had never changed since the royal session of the 17th of March. The minister, persevering in his system of falsehood and dissimulation, still distorted the truth with the same impudence, and did not cease to predict the approaching destruction of Napoleon and his adherents. At length, after a thousand subterfuges, it became necessary to confess, that Napoleon was within a few leagues of Paris. The King, whom the minister had not been afraid to deceive, had scarcely time to think of retreating. In this painful situation, he displayed a strength of mind above all praise. His courage was not that of a warlike prince, who defends his capital inch by inch, and trembles with rage and despair when forced to quit it; but that of a good father, who separates himself with regret from his children, and from the roof under which they were born. The Bonapartists themselves, who made a great distinction between the king and his family, were not insensible to the tears of that august and unfortunate monarch, and sincerely prayed, that his flight might be exempted from danger and trouble.
It was supposed, that Napoleon would make a triumphal entry into his capital. His old grenadiers, who had marched in seventeen days a distance that would commonly require five-and-forty, seemed, as they approached their object, to acquire fresh strength at every step. On the road you might see them in agitation, pressing upon and encouraging one another. They would have marched twenty leagues in an hour, if necessary, not to be deprived of the honour of entering Paris by the side of Napoleon. Their hopes were disappointed: the Emperor, who had witnessed their fatigues, ordered them to take a day's rest at Fontainbleau.
At two o'clock on the 20th of March, Napoleon set out for Paris. Retarded by the crowd, that accumulated on his way, and by the felicitations of the troops and the generals, who had run to meet him, he could not reach it till nine in the evening. As soon as he alighted, the people rushed on him; a thousand arms lifted him up, and carried him along in triumph. Nothing could be more affecting than the confused assembly of the crowd of officers and generals, who had pressed into the apartments of the Tuileries at the heels of Napoleon. Happy to see themselves once more triumphant, after so many vicissitudes, humiliations, and disgusts, they forgot the majesty of the place, to give themselves up without constraint to the desire of expressing their happiness and joy. They ran to one another, and hugged each other again and again. The halls of the palace seemed metamorphosed into a field of battle, where friends, brothers, unexpectedly escaped from death, found and embraced one another after victory.
We had been so spoiled on the road, however, that the Emperor's reception by the Parisians did not answer our expectations. Multiplied shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" saluted him on his way; but they wanted those characters of unanimity and frenzy, which were displayed by the acclamations, that had accompanied him from the gulf of Juan to the gates of Paris. It would be a mistake, however, to infer, that the Parisians did not behold the return of Napoleon with pleasure. We must only conclude, therefore, that the Emperor missed the proper time for his entrance.
The people of great cities are eager for sights: to move their hearts, you must astonish their eyes. If Napoleon, instead of traversing Paris in the evening, and without being announced or expected, had put it off till the next day, and allowed the disquietudes inseparable from such a crisis time to be allayed; if he had given his entrance the pomp and splendour it ought to have had; if he had caused the troops and half-pay officers, who had hastened to his call, to march before him; if he had presented himself at the head of his grenadiers of the island of Elba, with all their decorations; if he had been surrounded by Generals Bertrand, Drouot, Cambronne, and the faithful companions of his exile; this grand and affecting train would have produced the most lively sensation, and the whole population of Paris would have applauded the return and the triumph of Napoleon. Instead of those unanimous transports, he received only the applauses of the populous part of the capital, that he had occasion to traverse; and his detractors did not fail, to compare this reception with that of Louis XVIII., and to publish, that he was obliged to enter Paris by night, in order to escape the maledictions and vengeance of the public. Napoleon, who had just travelled two hundred and fifty leagues amid the acclamations of two millions of Frenchmen, could not be agitated by any such fears; but it is well known with what confidence, what intoxication, he was inspired by the anniversary of a victory or happy event; and as the 20th of March was the birthday of his son, he determined at all events to enter the capital under such fortunate auspices.
The very evening of his arrival, Napoleon had a long conversation with the Duke of Otranto, and the other dignitaries of the state, on the situation of France. They all appeared intoxicated with happiness and hope. The Emperor himself could not disguise his rapture: never did I see him so madly gay, or so prodigal of boxes on the ear.[70] His conversation savoured of the agitation of his heart: the same words incessantly recurred to his tongue; and, it must be confessed, they were not very flattering to the crowd of courtiers and great personages, who already besieged him: he was continually saying: "It was the disinterested persons, who brought me back to Paris; the sub-lieutenants and soldiers did every thing; I owe all to the people and the army."
That night and the following morning the Emperor was busied in the choice and nomination of his ministers.
At their head Prince Cambacérès found himself placed. The system of defamation directed against him had not altered the high consideration, which he had acquired by his great wisdom, and constant moderation. The Emperor offered him the port-folio of the minister of justice, and was obliged to command him to accept it. His sagacity and foresight, no doubt, presaged the fatal issue of the new reign of Napoleon.