Part 11

He sent orders to General Lamarque, whom he had just invested with the supreme direction of this war, to favour the negotiations of M. de Malartie to the utmost of his power: at the same time he directed him, to declare formally to la Roche-jaquelin, and to the other chiefs of the insurgents, that, if they persisted in continuing the civil war, quarter would no longer be given them, and their houses and possessions should be sacked and burned.

When the families, that reign in la Vendée, have resolved on war, they send orders to their agents, to travel over the country, preaching up revolt, and indicating to every parish the number of men, that it must furnish. The chiefs of the insurrection in each parish then point out the peasants, who are to go; and enjoin them, to be at such an hour, on such a day, at the place appointed for assembling. If they fail, armed bands are sent in quest of them, generally composed of the men most dreaded in the country: if they resist, they are threatened with being shot, or having their houses burnt; and as this is never an empty threat, the unhappy peasants obey, and set out.

It has been asserted, that the Emperor had given orders, to set a price on the heads of the chiefs of the insurgents. The instructions given to the ministers at war were transcribed by me, and I have not the least recollection of any such order having been given.]

He likewise recommended to him, to press as closely as possible on the bands of la Vendée, in order to leave them no hope of safety but in prompt submission. But this recommendation was superfluous. By unexpected attacks, skilful marches, and continually increasing successes, General Travot had already struck such terror and alarm into the insurgents, that they took much more pains to shun than to fight him.

In pursuing the movement of concentration, that had been prescribed him, this general accidentally fell in with the royal army by night, at Aisenay. A few musket shots spread dismay and disorder through their ranks; they rushed one upon another, and dispersed so completely, that MM. de Sapineau and Suzannet were several days without soldiers. M. d'Autichamp, though distant from the place of engagement, experienced the same fate. His troops abandoned him with no less readiness, than he had found difficulty in assembling them.

This defection was not solely the effect of the terror, with which the imperial army could not fail naturally to inspire a body of wretched peasants; it was promoted by several other circumstances. In the first place it resulted from the little confidence of the insurgents in the experience and capacity of their General in chief, the Marquis de la Roche-jaquelin. They did justice to his conspicuous bravery; but he had forfeited their good opinion, by incessantly endangering them through false manoeuvres, and by endeavouring to subject them to a regular service, incompatible with their domestic habits, and with their mode of making war.

In the next place it arose from the dissension, that had introduced itself among their generals from the commencement of the war. The Marquis de la Roche-jaquelin, ardent and ambitious, had arrogated to himself the supreme command; and the old founders of the royal army, the Autichamps, Suzannets, and Sapineaus, did not obey without regret the imperious orders of a young officer, hitherto without experience or reputation.

But the first, the fundamental cause of the slackness or inactivity of the Vendeans, was still more the change, that had taken place in the political and military state of France since the coronation of Napoleon. They knew, that the time when they struck terror into the blues, and made themselves masters of their artillery with clubs, was no more. They knew, that the days of terror, of anarchy, were terminated for ever; and that they had no longer to dread those abuses, or those excesses, or those crimes, which had provoked and fomented their first insurrection. As to the attachment for the Bourbon family, which they had inherited from their fathers, this, though not banished from their hearts, was balanced by the fear of seeing the calamities and devastations of the late civil war revived; by the uneasiness they felt from the renewal of the double despotism of the nobles and priests; and perhaps also by the remembrance of the kindness of Napoleon. It was he, who had restored to them their churches and their ministers; who had raised from their ruins their desolate habitations; and who had freed them at once from revolutionary exactions, and from the plunderings of chouanry.

The Emperor, having no doubt of the approaching termination and happy issue of this war, announced it openly at a public audience. "Every thing will soon be finished," said he, "in la Vendée. The Vendeans will not fight any more. They are retiring to their homes one by one; and the fight will be at an end for want of combatants."

The news he received from the King of Naples by no means inspired him with the same satisfaction.

This prince, as I have said above, after having obtained several tolerably brilliant advantages, had advanced to the gates of Placentia; and was preparing, to march through the Piedmontese territory to Milan; when Lord Bentinck notified to him, that England would declare against him, if he did not respect the dominions of the King of Sardinia. Joachim, apprehensive of the English making a diversion against Naples, consented to alter his course. The Austrians had time to come up, and Milan was saved.

While these things were going on, a Neapolitan army, that had penetrated into Tuscany, and driven General Nugent before it, was surprised, and forced to retire precipitately to Florence.

This unexpected check, and the considerable reinforcements, that the Austrians received, determined Joachim to fall back. He retreated slowly to Ancona.

The English, who had hitherto remained neutral, now declared against him, and joined Austria and the Sicilians. Joachim, menaced and pressed on all sides, concentrated his forces. A general engagement took place at Tolentino. The Neapolitans, animated by the presence and valour of their king, briskly attacked General Bianchi, and every thing foreboded victory, when the arrival of General Neipperg, at the head of fresh troops, changed the aspect of affairs. The Neapolitan army was broken, quitted the field of battle, and fled to Macerata.

A second battle, equally disastrous, was fought at Caprano; and the capture of this city by the Austrians opened them an entrance into the kingdom of Naples, while the corps of General Nugent, which had marched from Florence to Rome, penetrated into the Neapolitan territory by another road.

The rumour of the defeat and death of the king, the approach of the Austrian armies, and the proclamations issued by them, excited a sedition at Naples. The Lazaroni, after having assassinated a few Frenchmen, and massacred the minister of police, repaired to the royal palace, with the design of murdering the Queen. This princess, worthy of the blood that circulated in her veins, was not affrighted by their shouts and threats; she courageously made head against them, and obliged them, to return to their obedience.

Joachim, remaining erect amid the ruins of his army, sustained with heroic firmness the efforts of his enemies. Resolved to fall with arms in his hand, he rushed on the battalions, and carried terror and death into the midst of their ranks. But his valour could only ennoble his fall. Still repulsed, still invulnerable, he relinquished the hope of meeting death or victory. In the night of the 19th of March he returned to Naples: the Queen appeared indignant at seeing him. "Madame," said he to her, "I was not able to find death." He departed immediately, that he might not fall into the hands of the Austrians, and came to take refuge in France. The Queen, notwithstanding the dangers, that threatened her life, resolved to remain at Naples, till her fate and that of the army were decided. When the treaty was signed, she withdrew on board an English vessel and repaired to Trieste.

The catastrophe of the King made the most profound impression on the superstitious mind of Napoleon; but the French it inspired with little regret, and no fear. I say no fear, for the nation was familiarised with the idea of war. The patriotism and energy, with which it felt itself animated, filled it with such confidence, that it deemed itself sufficiently strong, to dispense with the support of the Neapolitans, and struggle alone against the coalition. It recalled to mind the campaign of 1814; and, if at that period Napoleon, with sixty thousand soldiers, had beaten and held in check the victorious foreign armies, what might it not hope now, when an army of three hundred thousand fighting men would form, in case of need, only the advanced guard of France? The royalists and their newspapers, by repeating the manifestoes of Ghent and Vienna, enumerating the foreign armies, and exaggerating our dangers, had indeed succeeded in abating the courage of a few, and shaking their opinions; but the sentiments of the bulk of the nation had lost nothing of their vigour and energy. Every day fresh offerings were deposited on the altar of their country; and every day new corps of volunteers, equally numerous and formidable, were establishing, under the names of lancers, partisans, federates, mountain chasseurs, and tirailleurs.

A single citizen of Paris, Mr. Delorme, proprietor of the fine passage of the same name, offered his country a hundred thousand francs.

Another, one day when the national guard was reviewed, caused a roll of paper, tied with a ribbon of the legion of honour, to be delivered to the Emperor. On opening it, it was found to contain twenty-five thousand francs, in notes on the Bank, with these words: "for Napoleon, for my country." The Emperor was desirous of knowing the person, who had made this delicate and mysterious offering; and at length discovered, that it was M. Gevaudan, whose noble sentiments and patriotism had already been proved by several actions of a similar kind.]

The Parisians, so frequently peaceable spectators of events, participated in this burst of patriotism: not contented with erecting their intrenchments with their own hands, they solicited the honour of defending them; and twenty thousand men, composed of national guards, federates of the suburbs, and citizens of all ranks, were formed into battalions for actual service under the denomination of tirailleurs of the national guard.

Napoleon applauded the noble efforts of the great nation: but unfortunately our arsenals had been plundered in 1814; and, notwithstanding the activity of our workmen, he was grieved to the heart at his inability, to arm every hand raised in his defence. This would have required six hundred thousand muskets; and scarcely could enough be supplied, to arm the troops of the line, and the national guards, that were sent to garrison the fortified towns.

But while Paris was contemplating its ramparts on the one hand, on the other it saw the preparations for the festival of the Champ de Mai completing. On both there was an equal crowd; and the French, always the same, always brave and frivolous, traversed with equal pleasure the spots where they were to fight, and those where they expected to amuse themselves.

At length the assembly of the Champ de Mai, which several unforeseen circumstances had delayed, took place on the 1st of June. The Emperor believed, that he ought to display at it all the imperial pomp; but in this he was wrong. He was about to appear before old patriots, whom he had deceived; and he should have avoided awakening their memories, and clouding their brows.

His dress, and that of his brothers and his court, made at first a disagreeable impression; but it soon vanished, and gave place to the sensations, that this grand union of the nation excited. What in fact could be more impressive, than the aspect of a people, threatened with a tremendous war, forming peaceably a solemn compact with the sovereign, of whom its enemies were desirous of depriving it; and joining with him, to defend together the honour and independence of its country, in life or death?

An altar was erected in the midst of the vast and superb enclosure of the Champ de Mars; and the ceremony commenced with the invocation of the Supreme Being. The homage paid to God in the presence of nature seems more fully to inspire man with religion, confidence, and respect. At the instant of the elevation of the host, this crowd of citizens, soldiers, officers, magistrates, and princes, prostrated themselves in the dust, and implored for France, with a tender and religious emotion, the tutelary protection of the sovereign Arbiter of kings and people. The Emperor himself, usually so absent, displayed a great deal of inward devotion. All eyes were fixed on him: people called to mind his victories and his disasters, his greatness and his fall; they were softened by the fresh dangers, that accumulated round his head; and they put up prayers, truly sincere prayers, that he might triumph over his implacable enemies.

A deputation, composed of five hundred electors, advanced to the foot of the throne; and one of them, in the name of the French people, addressed him in the following terms:

"Sire,