One remark in conclusion:—it was really extraordinary to witness the political apathy of the entire population, save the military. Scarce a single expression or indication of party feeling escaped in any direction. All seemed bent on their own pleasures, and on pleasure alone; careless whether the opportunity for its indulgence were afforded them by Napoleon or Louis—by preparations for peace or war—by the establishment of despotism or liberty. They were, I sincerely believe, absolutely weary of politics, and inclined to view any suggestion of that nature with emotions of total indifference. At all times, indeed, the Parisians prefer pleasure to serious speculation. The wisest king of France will ever be that one who contrives to keep his “good citizens” constantly amused; and the most impolitic will be any monarch who curbs their enjoyments. No Parisian will fight if he can dance. I very lately saw a collection of men who were going about in the evening in Rue de Sevres, crying “à bas Villele!” &c. &c., and seeming to be bent on some immediate mischief, stop short to hear an old clarionet player, a long drum, and a barrel organ; and being joined by some ladies of their own class, in ten minutes they were quadrilling with as much politeness as the Almackers.
LAST DAYS OF THE IMPERIAL GOVERNMENT.
Rejoicings on Napoleon’s victory over Blucher and surprise of Lord Wellington—Bulletin issued at St. Cloud—Budget of news communicated by a French cockney—Author’s alarm on account of his family—Proposes quitting Paris—Information of Henry Thevenot: confirmed at Lafitte’s—Napoleon’s return from Waterloo—The author’s sources of intelligence—His visits to the Chamber of Deputies—Garat, minister of justice at the period of Louis’s decapitation—The Rousseau Mss. and their peculiar utility to the author—Fouché’s treachery—Vacillating plan to inform Napoleon thereof, through Count Thibaudeau—Observations on the vicissitudes and political extinction of Bonaparte.
The emperor having left Paris to take command of the army in Belgium, the garrison left in that city was necessarily very inconsiderable. It was the universal belief that the allies would be surprised by a simultaneous attack, and the event in some degree warranted this supposition. The result was—a double defeat of Blucher; the separation of the Prussian and British armies; the consequent retreat of Lord Wellington upon Brussels; the march of Grouchy upon that city; and the advance of Napoleon; all this the work of two days only. The impatience of the Parisians for news may be easily conceived; nor were they long kept in suspense. Meanwhile, there ran through the whole mass of society a suspicion that treachery was on foot, but nobody could guess in what shape it would explode. The assassination of Napoleon was certainly supposed to have been then spoken of, and was a thing in contemplation. The disaffection of sundry general officers and others was likewise publicly discussed at the Palais Royal; but no names were mentioned except Fouché’s.
On Sunday, the 18th of June, at day-break, I was roused by the noise of artillery. I arose and instantly sallied out to inquire the cause: nobody could at the moment inform me; but it was soon announced that it was public rejoicings on account of a great victory gained by Napoleon over the Prussians, commanded by Blucher, and the English, by the Duke of Wellington: that the allies had been partly surprised, and were in rapid retreat, followed by the emperor and flanked by Grouchy: that a lancer had arrived as courier, and given many details, one of which was, that our light dragoons, under Lord Anglesey, had been completely destroyed.
I immediately determined to quit Paris for the day. It was Sunday: every body was a-foot; the drums were beating in all directions, and it was impossible to say how the canaille might, in exultation at the victory, be disposed to act by the English in Paris. We therefore set out early, and breakfasted at St. Cloud. The report of the victory had reached that village, but I perceived no indication of any great feeling on the subject. We adjourned to Bagatelle, in the very pretty gardens of which we sauntered about till dinner-time.
This victory did not surprise me; for when I saw the magnificent and to me almost innumerable array of troops on the occasion of the Promulgation, and before, I had adopted the unmilitary idea that they must be invincible. As yet we had heard no certain particulars: about eleven o’clock, however, printed bulletins were liberally distributed, announcing an unexpected attack on the Prussian and English armies with the purpose of dividing them, which purpose was stated to be fully accomplished; the Duke of Brunswick killed; the Prince of Orange wounded; two Scotch regiments broken and sabred; Lord Wellington in full retreat; Blucher’s army absolutely ruined; and the emperor in full march for Brussels, where the Belgian army would join the French, and march unitedly for Berlin. The day was rather drizzling: we took shelter in the grotto, and were there joined by some Parisian shopkeeper and his family, who had come out from the capital for their recreation. This man told us a hundred incidents which were circulated in Paris with relation to the battle. Among other things, it was said, that if the emperor’s generals did their duty, the campaign might be already considered over, since every man in France and Belgium would rise in favour of the emperor. He told us news had arrived, that the Austrians were to be neutral, and that the Russians durst advance no further; that the king of Prussia would be dethroned; and that it was generally believed Lord Wellington would either be dead or in the castle of Vincennes by Wednesday morning! This budget of intelligence our informant communicated himself in a very neutral way, and without betraying the slightest symptom either of gratification or the reverse; and as it was impossible to doubt the main point (the defeat), I really began, from the bulletin, to think all was lost, and that it was high time to consider how we should get out of France forthwith; more particularly as the emperor’s absence from Paris would, by leaving it at the mercy of the populace, render that city no longer a secure residence for the subjects of a hostile kingdom; and, in fact, the marais had already shown great impatience at the restraints of the police, and had got wind of Fouché’s having smuggled a quantity of arms out of Paris, which was a fact: he sent them to Vincennes. How singular was it that, at the very moment I was receiving this news,—at the instant when I conceived Napoleon again the conqueror of the world, and the rapidity of his success as only supplementary to the rapidity of his previous return, and a prelude to fresh achievements, that bloody and decisive conflict was actually at its height, which had been decreed by Providence to terminate Napoleon’s political existence! What an embarrassing problem to the mind of a casuist must a speculation be, as to the probable results, had this day ended differently!
Our minds were now made up to quit Paris on the following Thursday; and, as the securest course, to get down to St. Maloes, and thence to Jersey, or some of the adjacent islands: and without mentioning our intention, I determined to make every preparation connected with the use of the sauf conduit which I had procured on my first arrival in Paris. But Fate decreed it otherwise. Napoleon’s destiny had been meantime decided, and my flight became unnecessary.
On returning to Paris, we found every thing quiet. On that very Sunday night my servant, Henry Thevenot, told me that he had heard the French had got entangled in a forest, and met a repulse. He said he had been told this at a public house in Rue Mont Blanc.