by Emil Ludwig
" Do you see ? hey've got it again : ' God protect the king ' !
The Road to Paris
My device is : ' God protect France' ! They've left out those words. They were always like that: everything for themselves ; nothing for France ! " In the course of three minutes he enquires after twenty persons. When he is told that Hortense has been made a duchess, he answers simply :
" She should have called herself Madame Bonaparte. That name is worth more than all the rest."
His words are symbolic of the new epoch. If he calls himself Bonaparte once more, grants a constitution, allows liberty, and does not grasp at more power than he actually needs, he can make himself king of France. Then, after the failure of his attempt at the unification of Europe, he will still be able to become the happy exemplar of a modern prince by God's grace. He has always ruled as circumstances might dictate. Now, called to power for the second time, and after his imaginative flight towards far horizons, he will still prove himself a master. The road lies open.
The road to Paris is likewise open. The Bourbon king has run away, and the majority of the inhabitants are on the Emperor's side. Any one who might still have dreaded a fight with the last royal troops, must have overestimated them. When the Emperor is yet a hundred miles from the capital, the remnants of the royal guard flee from the city. The Emperor's army overtakes the king, but allows him to escape to a seaport, being content to take the silver he is carrying off with him in sixty carts, and to seize his cannon. France has a hearty laugh at this fat old gentleman, who had been escorted from England to Paris by enemy soldiers, and now makes all speed back to England with the soldiers of France chasing him.
Paris is calm. The town has long since forgotten how to take the initiative. During the twenty days between the Emperor's landing in the south and his arrival at the capital, the thermometer of the press registers the following degrees : " The monster has escaped from his place of exile."—" The Corsican werewolf has landed at Cannes."—" The tiger appeared at Gap,
News for Metternich
troops were sent against him, the wretched adventurer ended his career in the mountains."—" The fiend has actually, thanks to treachery, been able to get as far as Grenoble."—" The tyrant has reached Lyons, where horror paralysed all attempts at resistance."—" The usurper has dared to advance within a hundred and fifty miles of the capital."—" Bonaparte moves northward with rapid strides, but he will never reach Paris."— —" To-morrow Napoleon will be at our gates."—" His Majesty is at Fontainebleau."
When, at length, without having had to fire a shot, the Emperor mounts the steps of the palace he had been compelled to leave thirteen months before, Paris is overawed by his soldiers, and the emigres have fled with the king. All is quiet. He notes the fact, listens attentively, and says : " They have let me come, just as they let the others go."
Now he has his first disappointment! The march on Paris had been glorious, and in after days he spoke of it as the most splendid experience in his life. But here, in the city which will ultimately decide his fate, the city whose favour he has wooed more assiduously than he ever fought for any realm, the city he has never wholly conquered, he encounters moral resistance. Those whose favour he courts are no longer in the arms of their new friend; but they are listless, as if, after excess of passion, their vital energy had run down. Still, here he is, and he must bestir himself.
He looks to Vienna for a sign.
A week after Napoleon's landing in France, Metternich goes to bed at three o'clock, and is awakened at six by a messenger who hands him a despatch. He reads the inscription on the envelope, " General Consulate, Genoa," angrily turns over and goes to sleep again. He does not open the missive till several hours later, to read : " Campbell, the English commissioner, has just called to enquire whether Napoleon has been seen in Genoa. He has vanished from the island of Elba."
The bomb! Those who were yesterday still intriguing
Marie Louise's Treason
against one another, now become thick as thieves once more. The vows which have so often been broken are renewed. The first to think of declaring the man an outlaw is Baron vom Stein, whom Napoleon had outlawed five years earlier. The possibility is discussed, but father-in-law Francis of Habsburg cannot make up his mind to the step ; he would like to ask Marie Louise first. Four years ago she was devoted to her husband. She has never breathed a word of complaint to her father or to any of her women friends. Why should she ? Napoleon had done whatever she wanted ; she had been courted and wealthy ; he had been the most equable of husbands ; the parents had shared in the games of the little boy. Will she now become the Emperor's advocate ?
The wife of Napoleon and the mistress of the Austrian officer prefers to take up her pen and write a formal declaration to the congress. She will have nothing to do with the Emperor, and she will put herself under the protection of the allies. Such is her answer to that hour when Napoleon had had to choose between the mother's life and the child's, and had decided in favour of the mother. Not until his wife has cast her vote against him, is the Emperor made an outlaw : " The powers declare that Napoleon Bonaparte has placed himself outside the bounds of civil and social relationships, and that as an enemy and disturber of the peace of the world he is consigned to public prosecution."
The tidings leave him unmoved. He is used to being outlawed. When he left Corsica, he and all his relatives were under sentence of outlawry. The word " outlaw " had been shouted at him in the Orangerie at Saint-Cloud. The pope had pronounced the major excommunication against him. All three anathemas had glanced harmless from his coat of mail, so that he deemed himself impregnable. But this fourth ban will lay him low.
He still continues to hope in the Habsburg. Announcing his intention to summon the Electoral Colleges of the Empire to a
In Pawn to the Old World
great assembly, he speaks of the gathering, in Carlovingian terminology, as a Champ de Mai, for he intends to have the empress and his son crowned there. He thinks that this will ensure Austrian support, and writes to his wife :
" I am master of France. The people and the army are wild with enthusiasm ! No one but the so-called king has run away to England. ... I expect you here in April with my son." The thought of his dynasty is ineradicable.
But even this most natural of feelings assumes a distorted form, for his feelings are in pawn to the old world. Writing to the man who has just outlawed him, he says : " At the moment when providence has recalled me to the capital of my States, it is my chief desire, the object of my tenderest inclination, to see my wife and son once more." He goes on to speak of his wife, who must certainly reciprocate his longing. Then : " All my endeavours are directed towards the firm establishment of this throne which the love of my people guarantees and restores to me ; and towards handing it down to my son in due time, based upon an imperishable foundation. . . . Since a lasting peace is essential to the attainment of this important and sacred aim, there is nothing nearer to my heart than to remain at peace with all the powers."
Is this sublime, or is it ridiculous ? Napoleon renounces war, and abandons his designs on Europe. He speaks truth when he says that he needs nothing more than France. The monarchs who had conquered him last year have formed a new alliance against him, and have declared him an outlaw. The sentence of outlawry has been signed by Emperor Francis, in the Austrian capital, with Marie Louise's express authorisation. She had left him after the last defeat; had thrown up the regency which she had sworn to carry on faithfully; had taken the boy with her; had thrown herself into another man's arms, and is still living with him : the Emperor knows these things. But now, instead of beginning the new era with a clear-cut severance from all that has overthrown and disappointed him, he begins by suing for
The Pied Piper
the friendship of this old throne which had triumphed over his new one.
This is the ban, this is the outlawry, which will for the second time bring him to his doom.
XVII
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The adventurer now becomes a rat-catcher, like the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Bourbon had been clever enough to invite the best talents to serve him ; and as a result of this, when once the royalist national anthem had been sung, all went smoothly for him. Some of these men know not whether to go or to stay : they wait upon events. But Napoleon, who has always commanded, who has never canvassed for any one's services, places the flute of the tempter to his lips : he knows that now is the time for suggestion and smiles. The loyal few, he restores to their posts, with a shake of the hand. Maret, Davoust, and Caulaincourt, form part of his ministry.
He knows all that those who have proved ungrateful have been doing, and he judges them by their record. Officials, officers, and court dignitaries, again flock to his levees. A count of the old aristocracy comes likewise. Napoleon had called this man back from exile and had made him senator ; but at the Bourbon restoration the count had gone over to the king. Now, as the Emperor draws near, the count casts his eyes heavenward and seems to imply that his actions were dictated by God's inscrutable will. The Emperor smiles. Not a word is exchanged. But the count comes no more to court. When, on the other hand, one of Marmont's generals, a man who had delivered a decisive speech in the war council before the marshal's defection, approaches Napoleon and begins to stammer out an explanation, the Emperor does not smile. He says, in an overbearing tone : " What do you want of me ? Can you not see that I do not know you ? "
Here is Oudinot: for twenty years he was Bonaparte's com-
Conversation -with Rapp
panion-in-arms; now he comes back to the Emperor. " You see, Oudinot ? You were worshipped as a god by the Lorrainers; two hundred thousand peasants were ready, even last year, to go through fire and water for your sake. To-day I have to protect you against these same peasants ! "
Here is Rapp. He has wavered longer than the rest, and even now comes hesitatingly to his master. " You've kept us waiting a long time ! Did you really want to take up arms against me ? "
Rapp is an Alsatian, half a German, and as such he is more a man of duty than a man of feeling : " My duty, Sire, constrained me."
" Diable! The soldiers would not have obeyed you; your Alsatians would have stoned you ! "
But Rapp is nothing if not thorough: " You must admit, Sire, the position was a difficult one. You abdicate, you leave France, you advise us to serve the king, you come again. ..."
" Were you often here ? How did they treat you ? At first, I suppose, they flattered you. Soon they'd have chucked you out of doors. That is what your fate would have been. . . . Have you read Chateaubriand's pamphlet ? Is it true that I am a coward on the battle-field ? They are always accusing me of ambition because they have nothing better to say. Does one get as fat as I, if one is constantly being spurred on by ambition ? . . . Once again, General, we must serve France. Then we can be gathered to our fathers."
In such a debonair and lively manner does he play with this doughty and decorous old comrade. But Rapp holds his own : " You must admit, Sire, that you made a mistake in not concluding peace after Dresden. You treated as nonsensical my reports concerning German sentiment. ..." The Emperor is quick with his repartee :
" You do not understand what such a peace would have meant! " Suddenly his tone changes into one more suitable to the camp than to this palace and to this hour; it is intimate and
Ney's Remorse
familiar, and goes home to Rapp's heart: "Or were you perhaps afraid of beginning a fresh war, you who for fifteen long years had acted as my adjutant ? When you returned from Egypt you were nothing more than a soldier. I have made a man of you. To-day you can have whatever you like to ask for. ... I shall never forget your conduct before Moscow. At Danzig you achieved the greatest that any man could achieve. Ney and you, you belong to the tiny legion of those who have strength of character ! " The Emperor embraces him, kisses him again and again. Then, pulling Rapp's moustache, he says :
" Eh ? One of the braves of Egypt and Austerlitz—and you wanted to forsake me ! You shall take command of the army on the Rhine, while I am dealing with the Prussians and the Russians. In two months, I hope you will be receiving my wife and my son in Strasburg. From to-day, you are my adjutant ! "
" At your orders, Sire ! "
Had the Emperor ever seen Wallenstein's Death performed on the German stage, as had, perhaps, that would-be murderer in Poland ? He must have this fellow, Rapp, about him. The man is fundamentally honest, and is as brave as he is honourable ; of all the Grand Army, he is the officer who was most frequently wounded. He only went over to the king from a sense of duty; he is not to be bought by the lure of promises. And yet, in a quarter of an hour, he is not only the Emperor's man once more, but has accepted the posts of army commander and adjutant, as of old. Fidelity, Napoleon realised it well, is what the Emperor most urgently needs.
Ney's case is a more difficult one. Remorse keeps Ney sleepless. With distraught countenance and extravagant words he addresses his master: " Perhaps you have heard, Sire, before I marched to Besancon, I said at the council of war—here, in the Tuileries, I promised the king—"
" Well, what did you promise ? "
An Iron Cage
" To bring you in an iron cage, and place you before his throne—"
The Emperor stiffens. Then : " Foolishness ! Such thoughts are unworthy of a soldier ! "
" You are mistaken, Sire," exclaims the Marshal yet more excitedly; " allow me to finish. I said it, yes—but—I wanted to hide my real feelings—"
The Emperor is incensed. Ney quickly withdraws, and only after the lapse of two months takes command in the campaign. Thus near to madness had these iron warriors been brought through their struggle between duty and inclination, when the one great will which mastered them had been withdrawn. Berthier, who also rallied to Napoleon, had gone through the same experience.
" The donkey," exclaims the Emperor leniently, when talking of his old favourite. " He's a good fellow. I ask nothing of him than that he should present himself before me in the uniform of the royal guard ! " But Berthier, since the Emperor's return, rushes all night through the rooms of his mansion, and at last throws himself headlong from a balcony, like Junot, to perish on the cobbles instead of dying in the battle-field.
Forwards! We have no time for loitering! Who else is there ? Ah, Madame de Stael pops up again. This old opponent writes to him, admires his conduct, and promises that if he will restore the two million francs which France still owes her father, she will in future devote her literary gifts to the cause of France. The pity of it! Through making this stipulation, so splendid a woman must come down to history as beaten in the game ! The Emperor mischievously replies that, to his great regret, he is not wealthy enough to fulfil her condition.
Who else is there ? Marmont ? Augereau ? They are declared outlaws by the Emperor, because they sold the fatherland to the foreigner. And then, at long last, Talleyrand likewise! The lightning flashes that travel from Vienna to Paris
The Dioscuri
and from Paris to Vienna strike a deadly blow at this hostile friendship which has lasted for eighteen years. Each man thinks in his secret heart: "A pity that so fine a brain should be working for the other side ! "
What about the second of the Dioscuri ? Fouche is back again ! He takes up his service as Minister of Police in the twofold capacity of working for and against his master. He says of the Emperor : " Well, he's here. We none of us exactly wished him back again; now we shall have to keep close watch on him. . . . The man has returned even madder than when he left. I give him three months ! " Meanwhile, he corresponds with Metternich; but spies soon tell the Emperor, who angrily apostrophises him : " You are a traitor ! " Lavalette, who is in waiting, hears the words through the half-open door. " Why do you consent to be my minister if you mean to betray me ? I know that you are exchanging letters with Metternich through the intermediation of a bank official in Basle. I could have you hanged, and all the world would applaud my action." Fouche's
answer has not been recorded !
The minister owed his present position to his radical outlook, for he had been a revolutionary in theory ever since Robespierre's time. The Emperor needed him in the cabinet as a decoy for the democrats. But Fouche not only betrayed his master to Metternich, he likewise betrayed Metternich to the radicals ; he wanted to set up a republic—with Fouche at the head. Carnot, who was a more violent antagonist of the king than even the Emperor himself had been, now, for the first time since the days of the Directory, entered the ministry.
But, as spiritual leader, the Emperor wins over his whilom enemy, Benjamin Constant, a friend of Madame de Stael. This oldtime democrat, who had recently been thundering in the press against the brigand of Elba and comparing him to Attila and to Genghis Khan, is needed now that the Emperor proposes to govern through Chambers. Napoleon, therefore, invites Constant to an audience. The Emperor has not seen him for fifteen
Benjamin Constant
years. The interview, recorded by Constant, occupies four pages of print. We are shown, without periphrases, the last transformation of Napoleon, the statesman who was ever ready to adapt his course to the demands of practical politics.
" The nation again wishes for tribunes and assemblies. It has always wanted them, for it threw itself at my feet when I climbed to power. ... I assumed less power than was actually conceded me. To-day, all is otherwise. The preference for constitutions, for elections, for speeches, is again to the fore. This is, however, the desire of a minority. The majority desires myself, alone. ... I am not only the soldier's Emperor ; I am also the Emperor of the workers and peasants. . . . Thus, in spite of all, the people comes back to me. I treat the people severely, I never flatter the people ; and yet the people cries : ' Long live the Emperor !' This is because there are common bonds between us. ...
" It is otherwise with nobility. The nobles thronged my anterooms begging and receiving the posts they coveted. . . . But no common bond has ever existed between us. The horse submitted to the rider, it had been well trained; all the same, I felt it tremble beneath me. . . . Yes, I endeavoured to set up a world monarchy, and for this I needed unfettered power. Who, in my place, would not have wished to do likewise ? Did not the world itself encourage me ? Princes and subjects hastened to come beneath my sceptre's sway. . . . But if France is to be the whole of my dominions, then a constitution is better. . . .
