By J. L. E. Meissonier
By permission of Messrs. Goupil & Co.
Although the Allies had brought the Emperor to his knees, or almost so, there was considerable difference of opinion among them as to their next step. He had lost much; the Confederacy of the Rhine was shattered, the greater part of Germany was unshackled, disasters had occurred in Italy, the British were masters of the Peninsula, yet his enemies wanted more. The Czar and England were the most determined; Prussia, Sweden and Austria were lukewarm. They eventually agreed to give the Emperor another chance, to offer terms humiliating without doubt, but affording him an opportunity of restoring peace to Europe, a blessing long desired but now absolutely necessary. The boundaries of France were to be the Rhine, the Pyrenees, and the Alps. He could accept them or choose the only alternative—war. The proud nature of the man, the memory of former conquests, more especially of the time when Alexander and Frederick William III. had been as so much clay in his hands, made a negative answer practically certain, and accordingly the terms of the Allies were refused.
France was all but exhausted; Napoleon could raise not more than 200,000 troops against the 620,000 men who were with the Allies. Still, he argued, it was worth the risk. The brilliant, dashing days when he could take the offensive were gone, and in its turn Paris was the objective of the enemy. On the 29th January 1814, four days after he had left the capital, Napoleon attacked and defeated Blücher at Brienne; at La Rothière on the 1st February, Blücher having received reinforcements, the reverse was the case, the Emperor losing several thousand men. There was again an offer of peace, more humiliating than before, which met with no more favourable response. On the 10th February the Emperor was victorious at Braye, on the 11th at Montmirail, on the 12th at Château-Thierry, on the 13th at Vauchamp. It was but the final glory of the sun as it sinks below the horizon. In the middle of the following month Wellington, having compelled the French to retire from the Peninsula, after an extremely arduous campaign, crossed the Pyrenees and occupied Bordeaux, while Napoleon fought desperately at Craonne and Laon without decisive result, Marmont’s corps sustaining heavy losses. The Emperor now turned his attention to the main army under Schwarzenberg, but was obliged to fall back upon St Dizier. Meanwhile Marmont and Mortier were taking measures for the defence of Paris, upon which the Allies were marching. The Marshals did their best but were overwhelmed, and eventually, acting on the advice of Napoleon’s brothers, Joseph and Jerome, arranged an armistice. Paris, the scene of so much splendour and glory under the Imperial régime, capitulated. The Emperor, marching to the relief of the capital when it was too late, heard the awful news from some straggling soldiers at a post-house while his carriage-horses were being changed. “These men are mad!” cried the Emperor, “the thing is impossible.” When he found that the announcement was only too true, large beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. “He turned to Caulaincourt,” writes Macdonald, “and said, ‘Do you hear that?’ with a fixed gaze that made him shudder.”
Napoleon retired to Fontainebleau and discussed the terrible situation with Oudinot, Maret, Caulaincourt, Ney, Macdonald, Berthier, Lefebvre and others. He asked Macdonald what opinions were held by his soldiers as to the surrender of Paris, and whether they would be willing to make an attempt to regain the city.
“They share our grief,” the Marshal replied, “and I come now to declare to you that they will not expose Paris to the fate of Moscow. We think we have done enough, have given sufficient proof of our earnest desire to save France from the calamities that are now crowding upon her, without risking an attempt which would be more than unequal, and which can only end in losing everything. The troops are dying of hunger in the midst of their own country, reduced in number though they are by the disastrous events of the campaign, by privation, sickness, and, I must add, by discouragement. Since the occupation of the capital a large number of soldiers have retired to their own homes, and the remainder cannot find enough to live upon in the forest of Fontainebleau. If they advance they will find themselves in an open plain; our cavalry is weakened and exhausted; our horses can go no farther; we have not enough ammunition for one skirmish, and no means of procuring more. If we fail, moreover, as we most probably shall, what remains of us will be destroyed, and the whole of France will be at the mercy of the enemy. We can still impose upon them; let us retain our attitude. Our mind is made up; whatever decision is arrived at, we are determined to have no more to do with it. For my own part, I declare to you that my sword shall never be drawn against Frenchmen, nor dyed with French blood. Whatever may be decided upon, we have had enough of this unlucky war without kindling civil war.”
The Emperor was quite calm; he met his defeat with less apparent concern than in the old days when a minor error had instantly provoked a violent outburst of temper. Taking up a pen he wrote an offer of abdication on behalf of his son. Again and again he endeavoured to win his old comrades-in-arms to his side ere he realised that the game was up. On the 11th April 1814, he signed his own dismissal, making no conditions, surrendering everything.
“The Allied Powers,” he wrote, “having declared that the Emperor was the sole obstacle to the re-establishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor, faithful to his oaths, declares that he renounces, for himself and his heirs, the thrones of France and Italy, and that there is no sacrifice, not even that of life, which he is not ready to make for the interest of France.”
With mock generosity the Allies gave the former Emperor of the West the tiny island of Elba as his future kingdom, an army of 400 men, and an income of 2,000,000 francs a year—which was never paid. The Empress and her son were granted the duchies of Parma, Placentia and Guastalla and an ample subsidy, and the remaining members of the Bonaparte family had no reason to complain of their treatment.
Napoleon’s activity in his miniature possession, which is 17½ miles wide and 12 miles from North to South, has been likened to a bluebottle under a glass tumbler. He certainly imported considerable energy into his administration, erected fortifications, built roads, created a make-believe navy, and annexed the adjacent island of Palmaiola. It was all useful dust to throw into the eyes of those who watched. On the 29th April 1814, Napoleon had set sail for Elba in the Undaunted, a British vessel commanded by Captain Ussher; less than a year later, on the 26th February 1815, he stepped on board the French brig Inconstant for his last desperate adventure. With 1050 troops he had decided to invade France, to “reach Paris without firing a shot.”