Вальтер Скотт
Life of Napoleon Bonaparte. Volume V
Short as was the time he lingered at Malmaison, incredible as it may be thought, Napoleon was almost forgotten in Paris. "No one," says a well-informed author, living in that city during the crisis, "except the immediate friends of government, pretends to know whether he is still at Malmaison, or seems to think it a question of importance to ask. On Saturday last, Count M – saw him there; he was tranquil, but quite lost. His friends now pretend, that, since his return from Elba, he has never been quite the man he was."169 There was, however, a reason for his protracting his residence at Malmaison, more honourable than mere human reluctance to submit to inevitable calamity.
The English and Prussian forces were now approaching Paris by rapid marches; every town falling before them which could have been reckoned upon as a bar to their progress. When Paris was again to be girt round with hostile armies, honourable as well as political feelings might lead Napoleon to hope that the Representatives might be inclined to wave all personal animosity, and, having recourse to his extraordinary talents and his influence over the minds of the army and federates, by which alone the capital could be defended, might permit him once more to assume the sword for protection of Paris. He offered to command the army as general in chief, in behalf of his son. He offered to take share in the defence, as an ordinary citizen. But the internal discord had gone too far. The popular party which then prevailed, saw more danger in the success of Napoleon, than in the superiority of the allies. The latter they hoped to conciliate by treaty. They doubted, with good reason, the power of resisting them by force; and if such resistance was, or could be maintained by Napoleon, they feared his supremacy, in a military command, at least as much as the predominance of the allies. His services were therefore declined by them.
Like skilful anglers, the Provisional Government had been gradually drawing their nets around Napoleon, and it was now time, as they thought, to drag him upon the shallows. They proceeded to place him under a sort of arrest, by directing General Beker, an officer with whom Napoleon had been on indifferent terms, to watch over, and, if necessary, to restrain his movements in such a manner, that it should be impossible for him to make his escape, and to use measures to induce him to leave Malmaison for Rochefort, where the means were provided for his departure out of France. Orders were at the same time given for two frigates to transport him to the United States of America; and the surveillance of General Beker and the police was to continue until the late Emperor was on board the vessels. This order was qualified by directions that all possible care should be taken to ensure the safety of Napoleon's person. A corresponding order was transmitted by Davoust, who, giving way to one of those equivocal bursts of feeling, by which men compromise a conflict between their sentiments and their duty or their interest, refused to sign it himself, but ordered his secretary to do so, which, as he observed, would be quite the same.170
Napoleon submitted to his destiny with resignation and dignity. He received General Beker with ease, and even cheerfulness; and the latter, with feelings which did him honour, felt the task committed to him the more painful, that he had experienced the personal enmity of the individual who was now intrusted to his custody.171 About forty persons, of different ranks and degrees, honourably dedicated their services to the adversity of the Emperor, whom they had served in prosperity.
Yet, amid all these preparations for departure, a longing hope remained, that his exile might be dispensed with. He heard the distant cannonade as the war-horse hears the trumpet. Again he offered his services to march against Blucher as a simple volunteer, undertaking that, when he had repulsed the invaders, he would then proceed on his journey of expatriation.172 He had such hopes of his request being granted as to have his horses brought out and in readiness to enable him to join the army. But the Provisional Government anew declined an offer, the acceptance of which would indeed have ruined all hopes of treating with the allies. Fouché, on hearing Napoleon's proposal, is said to have exclaimed, "Is he laughing at us!" Indeed, his joining the troops would have soon made him master of the destiny of the Provisional Government, whatever might have been the final result.
ARRIVES AT ROCHEFORT
On the 29th of June, Napoleon departed from Malmaison; on the 3d of July he arrived at Rochefort. General Beker accompanied him, nor does his journey seem to have been marked by any circumstances worthy of remark. Wherever he came, the troops received him with acclamation; the citizens respected the misfortunes of one who had been wellnigh master of the world, and were silent where they could not applaud.
Thus, the reign of the Emperor Napoleon was completely ended. But, before adverting to his future fate, we must complete, in a few words, the consequences of his abdication, and offer some remarks on the circumstances by which it was extorted and enforced.
The Provisional Government had sent commissioners to the Duke of Wellington, to request passports for Napoleon to the States of America. The duke had no instructions from his government to grant them. The Prussian and English generals alike declined all overtures made for the establishment, or acknowledgment, either of the present Provisional Administration, or any plan which they endeavoured to suggest, short of the restoration of the Bourbons to the seat of government. The Provisional Commissioners endeavoured, with as little success, to awaken the spirit of national defence. They had lost the road to the soldiers' hearts. The thoughts of patriotism had in the army become indissolubly united with the person and the qualities of Napoleon. It was in vain that deputies, with scarfs, and proclamations of public right, and invocation of the ancient watchwords of the Revolution, endeavoured to awaken the spirit of 1794. The soldiers and federates answered sullenly, "Why should we fight any more? we have no longer an Emperor."
Meanwhile, the Royalist party assumed courage, and showed themselves in arms in several of the departments, directed the public opinion in many others, and gained great accessions from the Constitutionalists. Indeed, if any of the latter still continued to dread the restoration of the Bourbons, it was partly from the fear of reaction and retaliation on the side of the successful Royalists, and partly because it was apprehended that the late events might have made on the mind of Louis an impression unfavourable to constitutional limitations, a disgust to those by whom they were recommended and supported, and a propensity to resume the arbitrary measures by which his ancestors had governed their kingdom. Those who nourished those apprehensions could not but allow, that they were founded on the fickleness and ingratitude of the people, who had shown themselves unworthy of, and easily induced to conspire against, the mild and easy rule of a limited monarchy. But they involved, nevertheless, tremendous consequences, if the King should be disposed to act upon rigorous and vindictive principles; and it was such an apprehension on the part of some, joined to the fears of others for personal consequences, the sullen shame of a third party, and the hatred of the army to the princes whom they had betrayed, which procured for the Provisional Government a show of obedience.
It was thus that the Chambers continued their resistance to receiving their legitimate monarch, though unable to excite any enthusiasm save that expressed in the momentary explosions discharged within their own place of meeting, which gratified no ears, and heated no brains but their own. In the meanwhile, the armies of Soult and Grouchy were driven under the walls of Paris, where they were speedily followed by the English and the Prussians. The natural gallantry of the French then dictated a resistance, which was honourable to their arms, though totally unsuccessful. The allies, instead of renewing the doubtful attack on Montmartre, crossed the Seine, and attacked Paris on the undefended side. There was not, as in 1814, a hostile army to endanger the communications on their rear. The French, however, showed great bravery, both by an attempt to defend Versailles, and in a coup-de-main of General Excelmans, by which he attempted to recover that town. But at length, in consequence of the result of a council of war held in Paris, on the night betwixt the 2d and 3d of July, an armistice was concluded, by which the capital was surrendered to the allies, and the French army was drawn off behind the Loire.
The allies suspended their operations until the French troops should be brought to submit to their destined movement in retreat, against which they struggled with vain enthusiasm. Permitting their violence to subside, they delayed their own occupation of Paris until the 7th of July, when it had been completely evacuated. The British and Prussians then took military possession, in a manner strictly regular, but arguing a different state of feelings on both parts, from those exhibited in the joyous procession of the allies along the Boulevards in 1814. The Provisional Government continued their sittings, though Fouché, the chief among them, had been long intriguing (and ever since the battle of Waterloo, with apparent sincerity) for the second restoration of the Bourbon family, on such terms as should secure the liberties of France. They received, on the 6th of July, the final resolution of the allied sovereigns, that they considered all authority emanating from the usurped power of Napoleon Buonaparte as null, and of no effect; and that Louis XVIII., who was presently at Saint Denis, would on the next day, or day after at farthest, enter his capital, and resume his regal authority.
On the 7th of July, the Provisional Commission dissolved itself. The Chamber of Peers, when they heard the act of surrender, dispersed in silence; but that of the Representatives continued to sit, vote, and debate, for several hours. The president then prorogued the meeting till eight the next morning, in defiance of the cries of several members, who called on him to maintain the literal permanence of the sitting. The next morning, the members who attended found the hall sentinelled by the national guard, who refused them admittance, and heard the exclamations and complaints of the deputies with great disregard. Nay, the disappointed and indignant legislators were subjected to the ridicule of the idle spectators, who accompanied the arrival and retreat of each individual with laughter and acclamation, loud in proportion to the apparent excess of his mortification.
LOUIS RE-ENTERS PARIS
On the 8th of July, Louis re-entered his capital, attended by a very large body of the national guards and royal volunteers, as well as by his household troops. In the rear of these soldiers came a numerous état-major, among whom were distinguished the Maréchals Victor, Marmont, Macdonald, Oudinot, Gouvion, St. Cyr, Moncey, and Lefebvre. An immense concourse of citizens received, with acclamations, the legitimate monarch; and the females were observed to be particularly eager in their expressions of joy. Thus was Louis again installed in the palace of his ancestors, over which the white banner once more floated. Here, therefore, ended that short space, filled with so much that is wonderful, that period of an Hundred Days, in which the events of a century seemed to be contained. Before we proceed with the narrative, which must in future be the history of an individual, it may not be improper to cast a look back upon the events comprised within that extraordinary period, and offer a few remarks on their political nature and tendency.
It is unnecessary to remind the reader, that Napoleon's restoration to the throne was the combined work of two factions. One comprehended the army, who desired the recovery of their own honour, sullied by recent defeats, and the recalling of the Emperor to their head, that he might save them from being disbanded, and lead them to new victories. The other party was that which not only desired that the kingdom should possess a large share of practical freedom, but felt interested that the doctrines of the Revolution should be recognised, and particularly that which was held to entitle the people, or those who might contrive to assume the right of representing them, to alter the constitution of the government at pleasure, and to be, as was said of the great Earl of Warwick, the setters up and pullers down of kings. This party, availing themselves of some real errors of the reigning family, imagining more, and exciting a cloud of dark suspicions, had instigated a general feeling of dissatisfaction against the Bourbons. But though they probably might have had recourse to violence, nothing appears less probable than their success in totally overturning royalty, had they been unsupported by the soldiers. The army, which rose so readily at Buonaparte's summons, had no community of feeling with the Jacobins, as they were called; and but for his arrival upon the scene, would have acted, there can be little doubt, at the command of the maréchals, who were almost all attached to the royal family. It was, therefore, the attachment of the army to their ancient commander which gave success to the joint enterprise, which the Jacobinical party alone would have attempted in vain.
THE CHAMBERS
The Republican, or Jacobin party, closed with their powerful ally; their leaders accepted titles at his hands; undertook offices, and became members of a Chamber of Peers and of Representatives, summoned by his authority. They acknowledged him as their Emperor; received as his boon a new constitution; and swore in the face of all France the oath of fealty to it, and to him as their sovereign. On such terms the Emperor and his Legislative Body parted on the 7th of June. Suspicion there existed between them certainly, but, in all outward appearance, he departed a contented prince from a contented people. Eleven days brought the battle of Waterloo, with all its consequences. Policy of a sound and rational sort should have induced the Chambers to stand by the Emperor whom they had made, to arm him with the power which the occasion required, and avail themselves of his extraordinary military talent, to try some chance of arresting the invaders in their progress. Even shame might have prevented them from lending their shoulders to overthrow the tottering throne before which they had so lately kneeled. They determined otherwise. The instant he became unfortunate, Napoleon ceased to be their Emperor, the source of their power and authority. They could see nothing in him but the hurt deer, who is to be butted from the herd; the Jonas in the vessel, who is to be flung overboard. When Napoleon, therefore, talked to them of men and arms, they answered him, with "equality and the rights of man;" every chance of redeeming the consequences of Waterloo was lost, and the Emperor of their choice, if not ostensibly, was in effect at least arrested, and sent to the sea-coast, like a felon for deportation. Their conduct, however, went clearly to show, that Napoleon was not the free choice of the French people, and especially that he was not the choice of those who termed themselves exclusively the friends of freedom.
Having thus shown how easily they could get rid of the monarch who had called them into political existence, the Chambers applied to the allies, inviting them to give their concurrence to the election of another sovereign, and assist them to build another throne on the quicksand which had just swallowed that of Napoleon. In one respect they were not unreasonably tenacious. They cared little who the sovereign should be, whether Orleans or Orange, the Englishman Wellington or the Cossack Platoff, providing only he should derive no right from any one but themselves; and that they should be at liberty to recall that right when it might please them to do so. And there can be little doubt, that any new sovereign and constitution which could have been made by the assistance of such men, would have again occasioned the commencement of the wild dance of revolution, till like so many mad Dervises, dizzy with the whirl, the French nation would once more have sunk to rest under the iron sway of despotism.
The allied sovereigns viewed these proposals with an evil eye, both in respect to their nature, and to those by whom they were proposed. Of the authorities, the most prudent was the Duke of Otranto, and he had been Fouché of Nantes. Carnot's name was to be found at all the bloody rescripts of Robespierre, in which the conscience of the old decemvir and young count had never found any thing to boggle at. There were many others, distinguished in the Revolutionary days. The language which they held was already assuming the cant of democracy, and though there was among them a large proportion of good and able men, it was not to be forgotten how many of such existed in the first Assembly, for no purpose but to seal the moderation and rationality of their political opinions with their blood. It was a matter of imperious necessity to avoid whatever might give occasion to renew those scenes of shameful recollections, and the sovereigns saw a guarantee against their return, in insisting that Louis XVIII. should remount the throne as its legitimate owner.
LEGITIMACY
The right of legitimacy, or the right of succession, a regulation adopted into the common law of most monarchical constitutions, is borrowed from the analogy of private life, where the eldest son becomes naturally the head and protector of the family upon the decease of the father. While states, indeed, are small – before laws are settled – and when much depends on the personal ability and talents of the monarch – the power, which, for aught we know, may exist among the abstract rights of man, of choosing each chief magistrate after the death of his predecessor, or perhaps more frequently, may be exercised without much inconvenience. But as states become extended, and their constitutions circumscribed and bounded by laws, which leaves less scope and less necessity for the exercise of the sovereign's magisterial functions, men become glad to exchange the licentious privilege of a Tartarian couroultai, or a Polish diet, for the principle of legitimacy; because the chance of a hereditary successor's proving adequate to the duties of his situation, is at least equal to that of a popular election lighting upon a worthy candidate; and because, in the former case, the nation is spared the convulsions occasioned by previous competition and solicitation, and succeeding heart-burnings, factions, civil war, and ruin, uniformly found at last to attend elective monarchies.
The doctrine of legitimacy is peculiarly valuable in a limited monarchy, because it affords a degree of stability otherwise unattainable. The principle of hereditary monarchy, joined to that which declares that the King can do no wrong, provides for the permanence of the executive government, and represses that ambition which would animate so many bosoms, were there a prospect of the supreme sway becoming vacant, or subject to election from time to time. The King's ministers, on the other hand, being responsible for his actions, remain a check, for their own sakes, upon the exercise of his power; and thus provision is made for the correction of all ordinary evils of administration, since, to use an expressive, though vulgar simile, it is better to rectify any occasional deviation from the regular course by changing the driver, than by overturning the carriage.
Such is the principle of legitimacy which was invoked by Louis XVIII., and recognised by the allied sovereigns. But it must not be confounded with the slavish doctrine, that the right thus vested is, by divine origin, indefeasible. The heir-at-law in private life may dissipate by his folly, or forfeit by his crimes, the patrimony which the law conveys to him; and the legitimate monarch may most unquestionably, by departing from the principles of the constitution under which he is called to reign, forfeit for himself, and for his heirs if the legislature shall judge it proper, that crown, which the principle of legitimacy bestowed on him as his birth-right. The penalty of forfeiture is an extreme case, provided, not in virtue of the constitution, which recognises no possible delinquency in the sovereign, but because the constitution has been attacked and infringed upon by the monarch, and therefore can no longer be permitted to afford him shelter. The crimes by which this high punishment is justly incurred, must therefore be of an extraordinary nature, and beyond the reach of those correctives for which the constitution provides, by the punishment of ministers and counsellors. The constitutional buckler of impeccability covers the monarch (personally) for all blameworthy use of his power, providing it is exercised within the limits of the constitution; it is when he stirs beyond it, and not sooner, that it affords no defence for the bosom of a tyrant. A King of Britain, for example, may wage a rash war, or make a disgraceful peace, in the lawful, though injudicious and blameworthy exercise of the power vested in him by the constitution. His advisers, not he himself, shall be called in such a case, to their responsibility. But if, like James II., the sovereign infringes upon, or endeavours to destroy, the constitution itself, it is then that resistance becomes lawful and honourable; and the King is justly held to have forfeited the right which descended to him from his forefathers, by his attempt to encroach on the rights of the subjects.
The principles of hereditary monarchy, of the inviolability of the person of the King, and of the responsibility of ministers, were recognised by the constitutional charter of France. Louis XVIII. was therefore, during the year previous to Buonaparte's return, the lawful sovereign of France, and it remains to be shown by what act of treason to the constitution he had forfeited his right of legitimacy. If the reader will turn back to vol. iv., p. 86, (and we are not conscious of having spared the conduct of the Bourbons,) he will probably be of opinion with us, that the errors of the restored King's government were not only fewer than might have been expected in circumstances so new and difficult, but were of such a nature as an honest, well-meaning, and upright Opposition would soon have checked; he will find that not one of them could be personally attributed to Louis XVIII., and that, far from having incurred the forfeiture of his legitimate rights, he had, during these few months, laid a strong claim to the love, veneration, and gratitude of his subjects. He had fallen a sacrifice, in some degree, to the humours and rashness of persons connected with his family and household – still more to causeless jealousies and unproved doubts, the water-colours which insurrection never lacks to paint her cause with; to the fickleness of the French people, who became tired of his simple, orderly, and peaceful government; but, above all, to the dissatisfaction of a licentious and licensed soldiery, and of clubs of moody banditti, panting for a time of pell-mell havoc and confusion. The forcible expulsion of Louis XVIII., arising from such motives, could not break the solemn compact entered into by France with all Europe, when she received her legitimate monarch from the hand of her clement conquerors, and with him, and for his sake, obtained such conditions of peace as she was in no condition to demand, and would never otherwise have been granted. The King's misfortune, as it arose from no fault of his own, could infer no forfeiture of his vested right. Europe, the virtual guarantee of the treaty of Paris, had also a title, leading back the lawful King in her armed and victorious hand, to require of France his reinstatement in his rights; and the termination which she thus offered to the war was as just and equitable as the conduct of the sovereigns during this brief campaign had been honourable and successful.
To these arguments, an unprejudiced eye could scarcely see any answer; yet the popular party endeavoured to found a pleading against the second restoration of Louis, upon the declaration of the allies. This manifesto had announced, they said, that the purpose of the war was directed against Buonaparte personally, and that it was the intention of the allied sovereigns, when he should be dethroned, to leave the French the free exercise of choice respecting their own internal government.173 The Prince Regent's declaration, in particular, was referred to, as announcing that the treaty of Vienna, which resolved on the dethronement of Napoleon, should not bind the British government to insist upon the restoration of the Bourbon family as an indispensable condition of peace.174 Those who urged this objection did not, or would not consider the nature of the treaty which this explanatory clause referred to. That treaty of Vienna had for its express object the restoration of Louis XVIII., and the Prince Regent adhered to it with the same purpose of making every exertion for bringing about that event. The restrictive clause was only introduced, because his Royal Highness did not intend to bind himself to make that restoration alone the cause of continuing the war to extremity. Many things might have happened to render an absolute engagement of this nature highly inexpedient; but, since none of these did happen, and since the re-establishment of the throne of the Bourbons was, in consequence of the victory of Waterloo, a measure which could be easily accomplished, it necessarily followed, that it was to be accomplished according to the tenor of the treaty of Vienna.
But, even had the sovereigns positively announced in their manifestoes, that the will of the French people should be consulted exclusively, what right had the Legislative Body, assembled by Buonaparte, to assume the character of the French people? They had neither weight nor influence with any party in the state, except by the momentary possession of an authority, which was hardly acknowledged on any side. The fact, that Napoleon's power had ceased to exist, did not legitimate them. On the contrary, flowing from his commission, it must be held as having fallen with his authority. They were either the Chambers summoned by Napoleon, and bound to him as far as oaths and professions could bind them, or they were a body without any pretension whatever to a political character.
La Fayette, indeed, contended that the present representatives of France stood in the same situation as the convention parliaments of England, and the army encamped in Hounslow-heath, at the time of the English Revolution. To have rendered this parallel apt, it required all the peculiar circumstances of justice which attended the great event of 1688. The French should have been able to vindicate the reason of their proceedings by the aggressions of their exiled monarch, and by the will of the nation generally, nay, almost unanimously, expressed in consequence thereof. This, we need not say, they were wholly unable to do. But the English history did afford one example of an assembly, exactly resembling their own, in absence of right, and exuberance of pretension; and that precedent existed when the Rump Parliament contrived to shuffle the cards out of the hands of Richard Cromwell, as the Provisional Commissioners at Paris were endeavouring by legerdemain to convey the authority from Napoleon II. This Rump Parliament also sat for a little time as a government, and endeavoured to settle the constitution upon their own plan, in despite of the whole people of England, who were longing for the restoration of their lawful monarch, as speedily was shown to be the case, when Monk, with an armed force, appeared to protect them in the declaration of their real sentiments. This was the most exact parallel afforded by English history to the situation of the Provisional Commissioners of France; and both they and the Rump Parliament being equally intrusive occupants of the supreme authority, were alike justly deprived of it by the return of the legitimate monarch.
SECOND RESTORATION
While the allied powers were thus desirous that the King of France should obtain possession of a throne which he had never forfeited, they, and England in particular, saw at once the justice and the policy of securing to France every accession of well-regulated freedom, which she had obtained by and through the Revolution, as well as such additional improvements upon her constitution as experience had shown to be desirable. These were pointed out and stipulated for by the celebrated Fouché, who, on this occasion, did much service to his country. Yet he struggled hard, that while the King acknowledged, which he was ready to do, the several benefits, both in point of public feeling and public advantage, which France had derived from the Revolution, the sovereign should make some steps to acknowledge the Revolution itself.175 He contended for the three-coloured banners being adopted, as a matter of the last importance; – in that, somewhat resembling the archfiend in the legends of necromancy, who, when the unhappy persons with whom he deals decline to make over their souls and bodies according to his first request, is humble enough to ask and accept the most petty sacrifices – the paring of the nails, or a single lock of hair, providing it is offered in symbol of homage and devotion. But Louis XVIII. was not thus to be drawn into an incidental and equivocal homologation, as civilians term it, of all the wild work of a period so horrible, which must have been by implication a species of ratification even of the death of his innocent and murdered brother. To preserve and cherish the good which had flowed from the Revolution, was a very different thing from a ratification of the Revolution itself. A tempest may cast rich treasures upon the beach, a tornado may clear the air; but while these benefits are suitably prized and enjoyed, it is surely not requisite that, like ignorant Indians, we should worship the wild surge, and erect altars to the howling of the wind.