At midnight, from the ramparts of Grenoble, were seen the torches of the multitude, surrounding the Emperor, and advancing toward the city. Shouts of "Vive l'Empereur !" rose from the approaching throng, and were echoed back from the walls of the fortress. The inhabitants, in their ardor, wrenched the gates from the hinges, and Napoleon entered the streets in the midst of illuminations and exultations such as earth has rarely witnessed. A countless crowd, almost delirious with joy, bore him to his quarters in an inn. Throughout the night continuous acclamations resounded beneath his windows. The people and the soldiers, almost delirious with joy, fraternized together till morning, in banquets and embraces. "All is now settled," said Napoleon, "and we are at Paris." Shortly after Napoleon's arrival at the inn, an increased tumult called him upon the balcony. The inhabitants of Grenoble had come to offer him the gates of the city, since they could not present him with the keys.

His little band was quite exhausted by the rapid march of five days, along dreadful roads, and through defiles of the mountains, often encumbered with snow. He allowed them twentyfour hours for rest in Grenoble.

On the 9th of March, Napoleon resumed his journey toward Lyons. "He marched out of Grenoble," says Lamartine, "as he had entered

of Elba, and pressed on every side by the waves of a multitude which cleared a road for him." He passed the night at a small town half way between Grenoble and Lyons. Bonfires blazed all the night long; and the whole population united, as one man, in the most ardent demonstrations of affection and joy.

The intelligence of Napoleon's landing, and of the enthusiasm with which he was every where greeted, had now reached Paris. The Bourbons and their friends were in great consternation. The tidings, however, were carefully suppressed, for fear that an insurrection might be excited in the metropolis.* Vigorous measures were adopted secretly to arrest all the prominent men in the city who were suspected of fidelity to the

March the following proclamation, which France must have read with a smile:

The Bourbons inserted in the Moniteur of the 6th of

"Bonaparte has escaped from the island of Elba, where the imprudent magnanimity of the allied sovereigns had given him a sovereignty, in return for the desolations which he had brought into their dominions. That man who, when he abdicated his power, retained all his ambition and his fury; that man, covered with the blood of generations, comes at the end of a year, spent seemingly in apathy, to strive to dispute, in the name of his usurpa

tions and his massacres, the legitimate and mild authority of the King of France. At the head of a few hundred Italians and Piedmontese, he has dared again to set his feet on that land which had banished him forever; he wishes to re-open the wounds, still but half closed, which he had made, and which the hand of the King is healing every day. A few treasonable attempts, some movements in Italy, excited by his insane brother-in-law, inflamed the pride of the cowardly warrior of Fontainebleau He exposes himself, as he imagines, to the death of a hero; he will only die that of a traitor. France has rejected him; he returns; France will devour him."

and singing songs of joy and victory, approached the single bridge which crossed the Rhone. General Macdonald, who, after the abdication of Napoleon, had honorably taken the oath of fidelity to the Bourbons, was in the discharge of his duty in command of two battalions to defend the entrance of the bridge. But the moment Napoleon appeared, his troops, to a man, abandoned him. They tore down the barricades, shouted "Vive l'Empereur!" tumultuously rushed into the midst of the imperial escort, and blended with them in acclamations and embraces. Macdonald, perhaps afraid that his own virtue would be unable to resist the contagion, for he loved and almost adored the Emperor, plunged his spurs into his horse and disappeared.

The entire population of the city, like an inundation, rolled along the quays, the squares, and the streets, welcoming their noble Emperor with thunder peals of acclamation. There was no city in France which had derived greater benefits from his enlightened and profound policy than the city of Lyons. There was no other place in the empire where his memory was cherished with deeper affection. As night darkened, the whole city blazed with illuminations. Napoleon was conducted in triumph to the splendid palace of the Archbishop of Lyons, and the citizens themselves, with the affection of children protecting a father, mounted guard over his person. He slept that night in the same chamber from which the Count d'Artois, in despair, had fled.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when the Emperor entered the palace. He immediately sent for the Baron Fleury, one of the former secretaries of his cabinet, and the following conversation ensued:

"Well," said Napoleon, with a smile, "you did not expect to see me again so soon?" "No, Sire!" Fleury answered, "your Majesty alone is capable of causing such surprises." "What do they say of all this at Paris?" inquired Napoleon. "And public opinion, how is that?"

"They are rejoiced at your Majesty's return," Fleury replied. "The struggle between the Bourbons and the nation has revealed our rights, and engendered liberal ideas."

"I know," said the Emperor, "that the discussions the Bourbons have provoked, have diminished the respect for power and enfeebled it. There is pleasure and glory in rendering a great people free and happy. I never stinted France in glory. I will not curtail her liberty. I wish to retain no further power than is requisite to enable me to govern. Power is not incompatible with liberty. On the contrary, liberty is never more entire than when power becomes well established. When weak it is captious; when strong it sleeps in tranquillity, and abandons the reins loose on the neck of liberty. I know what is requisite for the French. But there must be no licentiousness, no anarchy. Is it thought that we shall come to a battle?"

"It is not," Fleury replied. "The government has not the confidence of the soldiers. It is detested even by the officers. All the troops they may send to oppose your Majesty, will be so many reinforcements to your cause."

"I think so too," said the Emperor; "and how will it be with the Marshals?"

"Sire," Fleury answered, "they can not but be apprehensive that your Majesty will remember the desertion at Fontainebleau. Perhaps it would be well to remove their fears, and personally make known your Majesty's intention of consigning every thing to oblivion."

"No," the Emperor replied, "I will not write to them. They would consider me as under obligations. I will not be obliged to any one. The troops are well disposed. The officers are in my favor. And if the Marshals wished to restrain them, they would be hurried along in the vortex. Of my Guard I am sure. Do what they will, that corps can never be corrupted. What is Ney doing? On what terms is he with the King?"

"I think he has no command, Sire," said Fleury. "I believe that he has had reason to complain of the court on account of his wife."

"His wife is an affected creature," said Napoleon. "No doubt she has attempted to play the part of a great lady, and the old dowagers have ridiculed her. False tales have been spread respecting my abdication. It has been said that Ney boasted of having ill-treated me, and laid his pistols on my table. I read at Elba that Augereau, when I met him, loaded me with reproaches. It is false. No one of my generals would have dared, in my presence, to forget what was due to me. Had I known of the proclamation of Augereau, I would have forbidden him my presence. Cowards only insult misfortune. His proclamation, which I was reported to have had in my pocket, was unknown to me till after our interview. But let us forget these things. What has been done at the Tuileries?"

64

They have altered nothing, Sire. Even the eagles have not been removed," said Fleury.

Napoleon smiled, and replied, "They must have thought my arrangement of them admirable. And the king-what sort of a countenance has he? Is his coin handsome?"

"Of this your Majesty may judge. Here is a twenty-five franc piece," Fleury replied, presenting the piece of money to the Emperor.

"What! they have not recoined Louis?" said Napoleon. "I am surprised. (Turning the piece over.) He does not look as if he would starve himself. But observe, they have taken away 'God protect France,' to restore their Lord preserve the King.' This is as they always were. Every thing for themselves, nothing for France. Poor France! Into what hands hast thou thrust thyself! Have we any individuals in this vicinity who were nearly attached to my person? Make inquiry, and conduct them to me. I wish to be thoroughly acquainted with the spirit of the times, and with the present state of affairs. What does Hortense do?"

"Sire," said Fleury, "her house is still the resort of all who know how to appreciate wit and elegance. The queen, though without a throne, is not less the object of the respect and homage of all Paris."

"She did a very foolish thing," rejoined the Emperor, "in accepting from the Bourbons the title of duchess. She should have called herself Madame Bonaparte. That name is full as good as any other. If poor Josephine had been alive she would have advised her better. Was my deceased wife much regretted?"

'Yes, Sire," Fleury replied; "your Majesty knows how much she was honored and admired by the whole French nation."

"She deserved it," said Napoleon. "She was an excellent woman. She had a great deal of good sense. I also regretted her most sincerely. The day when I heard of her death was one of the most unhappy of my life. Was there public mourning for her?"

"No, Sire," said Fleury. "Indeed, I think that she would have been refused the honors due to her rank, had not the Emperor Alexander insisted that they should be accorded her. Alexander generously showed himself the protector of the Empress, the Queen, Prince Eugene, the Duke of Vicenza, and numerous other persons of distinction, who but for him would have been persecuted."

“You love him, it seems," said the Emperor. "What is it supposed the Allies will think of my return?"

"It is thought," Fleury answered, "that Austria will connect herself with your Majesty, and that Russia will behold the disgrace of the Bourbons without regret."

"Why so?" inquired the Emperor.

"It is said, Sire," Fleury replied, "that Alexander was not pleased with the Bourbon princes while at Paris. It was thought that the predilection of Louis for England, and his attributing the VOL. IX.-No. 52.-H H

regaining of his crown to the Prince Regent, offended him."

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"It is well to know that," said the Emperor. Has he seen my son?"

"Yes, Sire," said Fleury. "I have been assured that he embraced him with a tenderness truly paternal, and exclaimed, 'He is a charming fellow! How have I been deceived!'"

'What did he mean by that?" inquired Napoleon eagerly.

"They say," Fleury replied, "that he had been informed that the young prince was rickety and imbecile."

"Wretches!" exclaimed the Emperor; "he is an admirable child. He gives every indication of becoming a distinguished character. He will be an honor to his age."

Napoleon remained in Lyons four days. During all this time the exultation and transport in the city no language can describe. With noble frankness he spoke to his auditors of the perplexities and the errors of the past.

"I am not," said he, "altogether blameless for the misfortunes of France. I was forced on, by imperious circumstances, in the direction of universal empire. That idea I have renounced forever. France requires repose. It is not ambition which has brought me back. It is love of country. I could have preferred the tranquillity of Elba to the cares of a throne, had I not known that France was unhappy, and stood in need of me. I am returned to protect and defend those interests to which our revolution has given birth; to concur with the representatives of the nation in a family compact, which shall forever preserve the liberty and the rights of Frenchmen. It is my ambition and glory to effect the happiness of the great people from whom I hold every thing." The hours passed in Lyons were not devoted to

rest.

All the tireless energies of Napoleon's mind were employed in reconstructing, upon its popular basis, the Imperial throne. Decree followed decree with a rapidity which astounded his enemies, and which fanned the flame of popular enthusiasm. Even the most envenomed of Napoleon's historians are compelled to admit the admirable adaptation of these decrees to the popular cause. The magistrates of the Empire were restored to their posts. The tricolored flag and cockade were reinstated. The vainglorious cock of the Bourbons gave place on the flag-staff to the Imperial eagle. All feudal claims and titles were suppressed, and the purchasers of the national domains confirmed in their possessions. The two Chambers established by the Bourbons were dissolved, and the people were requested to meet, throughout the empire, to choose representatives for an extraordinary assembly, to deliberate on present emergencies. These decrees gave almost universal satisfaction. They recognized the rights of the masses, as opposed to the claims of the privileged orders. And consequently now, as throughout his whole career, the masses surrounded Napoleon with their love and adoration.

The preamble to the decree dissolving the Bourbon Chambers was in the following words: