The idea of renewing the ancient assemblies of the nation, as it was first formed by the Emperor, was no doubt a grand and generous conception, and singularly calculated to restore to patriotism its energy and lustre; but at the same time, it must be confessed, it bore the stamp of imprudent daring, and might have given Napoleon an irreparable stroke. Was it not to be feared, that, in the equivocal situation in which he was placed, the electors, having every thing to dread from the Bourbons and foreign powers, would not accept so hazardous a mission, and leave the assembly unattended?
Was it not also probable, that no one would covet the dangerous honour of making part of the new national representation, the first act of which must necessarily be, to proscribe for ever the dynasty of the Bourbons, and acknowledge Napoleon, in spite of the foreign powers, the sole and legitimate sovereign of France?
However, so true it is, that with Napoleon events always belied the most sagacious conjectures, the electors hastened in crowds to Paris; and men most respectable for wealth and character entered the lists to be chosen deputies, soliciting votes with as much ardour, as if France had been tranquil and happy[10].
And why was it so? Because, in the eyes of the electors and of the deputies, the object at stake was not the fate of a particular man, but of their country. It was because the critical situation of France, instead of intimidating the partisans of the revolution, awakened in their hearts the most courageous sentiments of patriotism.
They, whom I here call the partisans of the revolution, were not, as certain persons endeavour to persuade the world, those sanguinary beings, who were branded with the title of Jacobins, but that immense body of Frenchmen, who, since the year 1789, have concurred more or less in the destruction of the feudal system, with its privileges and abuses; of those Frenchmen, in fine, who are no strangers to the value of liberty, and the dignity of man.
But was the assembly of the Champ de Mai to be deprived of its chief ornament, the Empress and her son? The Emperor was not ignorant, that this princess was carefully watched; and that she had been surprised and threatened into an oath, to communicate all the letters she might receive. He knew, also, that she was surrounded by improper persons: but he thought, that he owed it to himself, and to his affection for the Empress, to exhaust every means of putting an end to her captivity. At first he attempted by several letters, full of feeling and dignity, to move the justice and sensibility of the Emperor of Austria. Entreaties and reclamations proving ineffectual, he resolved, to despatch an officer of the crown to Vienna, to negotiate, or demand publicly, in the name of nature and the law of nations, the deliverance of the Empress and her son. This mission was entrusted to the Count de Flahaut, one of his aides-de-camp. No person was more capable of fulfilling it worthily than this officer. He was a true Frenchman, spirited, amiable, and brave. He shone equally in the field of battle, in a diplomatic conference, and in the drawing-room pleasing every where by the agreeableness and firmness of his character.
M. de Flahaut set out, but could not advance beyond Stutgard. This disgrace converted into painful regret the joy, to which the hope of seeing again the young prince and his august mother had already given birth.
The people who resided near the road they would pass had already made preparations for testifying their love and their respect.
The return of Napoleon had been celebrated by enthusiastic shouts, that resembled the intoxication of victory: that of the Empress would have inspired only tender emotions. Acclamations tempered by tears of joy, the roads strewed with flowers, the village maidens adorned in their best attire and happy looks, would have given this sight the appearance of a family festival; and Marie Louise would have seemed, not the daughter of the Cæsars returning to her territories, but a beloved mother, who, after a long and painful absence, is at length restored to the wishes of her children.
Her son, over whose head such high destinies were then depending, would have excited transports not less vivid, or less affecting. Torn from a throne, and from his country, while yet in his cradle, he had not ceased to turn his eyes and his remembrances toward the land that had given him birth: a number of bold and ingenious expressions had disclosed his regrets and his hopes; and these expressions, repeated and learned by heart, had rendered this august infant the object of the dearest thoughts and affections.