“In the Palais de Bourbon Elysée,” said he.
I saw it was vain to expect further communication from Mr. Phillips, and I went into an inner chamber to Mr. Clermont, who seemed however more taciturn than the other.
Being most anxious to learn all the facts, I proceeded to the Palais d’Elysée, my scepticism having meanwhile undergone great diminution from seeing an immense number of splendid equipages darting through the streets, filled with full-dressed men, plentifully adorned with stars and orders. When I got to the palace I found the court full of carriages, and a large body of the national guard under arms: yet I could scarcely believe my eyes; but I soon learned the principal fact from a hundred mouths and with a thousand different details:—my informants agreeing only on one point—namely, that the army was defeated by treachery, and that the emperor had returned to Paris in quest of new matériel. Groups and crowds were collecting every where, and confusion reigned triumphant.
Being somewhat rudely driven out of the court-yard, I now went round to the Champs d’Elysée, at the rear of the palace. Sentinels, belonging to Napoleon’s guard, were by this time posted outside the terrace that skirts the garden. They would permit no person to approach close; but I was near enough to discern Napoleon walking deliberately backward and forward, in easy conversation with two persons whom I conceived to be his uncle, Cardinal Fesch, and Count Bertrand; and I afterward heard that I was right. The emperor wore a short blue coat and a small three-cocked hat, and held his hands behind his back, seemingly in a most tranquil mood. Nobody could in fact suppose he was in any agitation whatever, and the cardinal appeared much more earnest in the conversation than himself. I stood there about fifteen minutes, when the sentries ordered us off; and as I obeyed, I saw Napoleon walk up toward the palace.
I never saw the emperor of the French after that day, which was, in fact, the last of his actual reign. It ought to have been the last day of his existence, or the first of some new series of achievements: but Fate had crushed the man, and he could rouse himself no more. Though I think he could count but scantily on the fidelity of the national guards, yet he was in possession of Montmartre, which the old guard had occupied. Paris was quite within his power; and, as the event proved, another and a very powerful army might soon have been gathered about him. Perhaps, too, had Bonaparte rallied in good earnest, he might have succeeded in working even on the very pride of his former subjects to free the soil of the grande nation from foreign invasion. The people of the marais appeared in crowds, quite wild, and I apprehend nearly ungovernable.
Madame Le Jeune, the mistress of the hotel wherein we resided, was sister to General Le Jeune, the painter who executed those noble pieces of the battles of Jena and Austerlitz, which were formerly in the outside room at the gallery of the Tuileries. I am no judge of painting, but I think every thing he did (and his pieces were numerous) possessed great effect. Through him, until the siege terminated by the surrender of Paris, we learned all that was going on among the French; and through Doctor Marshall and Col. Macirone I daily became acquainted with the objects of the English.
After Napoleon had been making faint and fruitless endeavours to induce the deputies to grant him the matériel and aid him in a new armament, their coldness to himself individually became too obvious to be misconstrued: fortune had in fact forsaken Napoleon, and friends too often follow fortune; and it soon became notorious that Fouché had every disposition to seal his master’s destruction. The emperor had, however, still many true and faithful friends—many ardent partisans on whose fidelity he might rely. He had an army which could not be estranged, which no misfortune could divert from him. But his enemies (including the timid and neutral among the deputies) appeared to me decidedly to outnumber those who would have gone far in ensuring his reinstatement. Tranquillity seemed to be the general wish, and the re-equipment of Napoleon would have rendered that unattainable.
Nevertheless, the deputies proceeded calmly on their business, and events every day assumed a more extraordinary appearance. The interval between the emperor’s return from Waterloo and his final abdication—between his departure for Malmaison and the siege of Paris—was of the most interesting and important nature; and so great was my curiosity to be aware of passing events, that I am conscious I went much farther lengths than prudence would have warranted.
During the debates of the deputies after Napoleon’s return, I was almost daily present. I met a gentleman who procured me a free admission, and through whom I became acquainted, by name with most, and personally with many, of the most celebrated characters, not only of the current time, but also those who had flourished during the different stages of the revolution. I was particularly made known to Garat, who had been minister of justice at the time Louis XVI. was beheaded, and had read to him his sentence and conducted him to the scaffold. Although he had not voted for the king’s death, he durst not refuse to execute his official functions; his attendance therefore could not be considered as voluntary. He was at this time one of the deputies. His person would well answer the idea of a small, slight, sharp-looking, lame tailor; but his conversation was acute, rational, and temperate. He regarded Napoleon as lost beyond all redemption; nor did he express any great regret hereat, seeming to be a man of much mental reservation. I suspect he had been too much of a genuine republican, and of too democratic and liberal a policy, ever to have been any great admirer even of the most splendid of monarchs. I think he was sent out of Paris on the king’s restoration.
My friend having introduced me to the librarian of the Chamber of Deputies, I was suffered to sit in the ante-room, or library, whenever I chose, and had consequently a full opportunity of seeing the ingress and egress of the deputies, who frequently formed small groups in the ante-room, and entered into earnest although brief conferences. My ready access to the gallery of the house itself enabled me likewise to know the successive objects of their anxious solicitude.