I think out of the 240 million
Europeans alive that spring, less than 1 in 10 felt any joy at
learning that at 1:00 pm, on
Wednesday, the first day of March 1815, 46 year old Napoleon
Bonaparte had landed on the beach of the
azure coast village of Antibes. During the previous 20 years, nine
hundred thousand Frenchmen had sacrificed their lives to Napoleon's
ego – 3 million dead in all of Europe . That was why “The Devil's
Favorite” had been exiled to the tiny island off Tuscany.
But the
reinstated King Louis XVIII (above, right) proved so arrogant and stupid, that just
9 months later the “Ogre of Elba” was back.
During his sea born
escape, “The Eagle” had lectured his followers, "All France
regrets me,” he said, “and wants me” And that schizophrenia
described France, perfectly. But the “Jupiter
Scapin” - or monumental fraud - went
on to predict, “I shall reach Paris without firing a shot."
As soon as his columns could form up –
600 of his “grumblers” - the elite Old Guard - 100 Polish
lancers (without horses) and assorted followers, 2 cannons and two
chests containing 2 ½ million francs in gold coins, the once an d
future Emperor confidently ordered his men forward. And as always,
they obeyed.
He was only of average height for the age, about 5 feet
6 inches tall. His once delicate face had fattened. His shinning
white teeth had yellowed. Still, these men followed him because he
usually brought victory. And his deep set blue-gray eyes were still
bright, still constantly darting about, always looking for his foe's
vulnerable spot to insert the knife.
But he was no longer the handsome
athlete who had brought a revolution to heel, and then conquered a
continent. Now, he was
running a bluff. Having taken the first step by returning to France,
he now marched his miniature army 12
kilometers to the west, to the fishing village Cannes.
There he men camped with his men, in the open. At 4:00 in the morning of Thursday,
2 March, they set off inland and uphill 20 kilometers to the “Gueuse
Parfumee” , “the scented slut” of France.
The
crossroads had once been home to stinking leather tanneries, but
altitude (1,000 meters) and climate also made it an ideal garden. A
later visitor described how, “Violets carpet the terraces under
the olive-trees, while on other terraces grows the orange-tree”,
with “...fields of jonquil, and of jessamine, and...that Rose of
Provence, which excels all other roses in fragrance. …”
Over time
the inept Bourbons taxed Grasse's tanneries and their “perfumed
glove makers” out of business. So, first the Galimard family in
1747, followed in 1758 by the Sozio family, switched to the exclusive
production of perfumed soaps and balms. These proved so popular that
even when the revolution chopped off the heads of most of France's
wealthy families, it failed to kill the business.
Then,
after dark on 1 March, a messenger arrived from Antibes, alerting
the officials in Grasse of the Emperor's arrival. Their reaction, and
that of town's 12,000 citizens, was telling. As David Chandler wrote
in his monumental 1966 history, “The Campaigns of Napoleon”, “The
French people... remained calm and observant, awaiting a sign before
committing themselves one way or the other.” But they also sent a
rider north to Paris, alerting Minister of War, Soult, that the
“Monster was loose”.
Later
that evening, when General Pierre Cambronne, at the head of
Napoleon's advance guard, arrived, the bakers of Grasse promptly went to work,
preparing the 2 to 3,000 baguettes he had requested. At noon, when
Napoleon's petite army arrived, curious citizens came out, but did not rush to his eagles. Their mood, noted an observer, was,
“Everyone wants the company to fail, but no one wants to provoke
it.”
The petite army paused on a rocky field at the northern edge
of town, the Roquevinon, to eat lunch and to transfer their bread
and gold to burrows. Everything was paid for, even at inflated
prices. Then, to the townsfolk's relief, the army set out again, now
climbing 14 kilometers to a small village set amid stone age
monoliths - Saint-Vallier-de-Thiey, at 1,500 meters above sea level.
They arrived about four in the afternoon, but they did not pause.
Napoleon's strategy was the “bums rush”, and speed was now
everything. As he famously said, “I may lose a battle, but never a
minute.”
Leaving
the main road, their route now narrowed until it was a single track,
then contracted again until it was little more than a trail, entering
the narrow Gorges of the Siagne.
The column became single file. The
advance slowed. And Napoleon stumbled up the steep slope until he
tripped and fell. After a second fall, his grumblers set the Emperor
atop Tauris, the white stallion he had been given by Russian Tsar
Alexander I. As they approached the Gorges de la Haute Siagne (above), tight beads of snow began to fall.
One of the burdened mules slipped
on the broken limestone and tumbled over the edge of the narrow
gorge. Its burden of 10,000 gold Napoleons glittered and danced down
the white rocks into the River Siagne, 700 meters below. The column
paused while as many of the coins as possible were retrieved.
After
dark, and after covering an addition 26 kilometers, the column
reached the tiny (300 residents) village of Seranon. They had
achieved the summit of their alpine journey, at 1,700 meters. While
his soldiers made camp in the cold open air, the Emperor checked into
the Chateau Broundet, curled up in an arm chair in the lobby. He spent an uneasy
night, suffering from what his personal physician, Dr. Carabes
called, “ ...a crisis of hemorrhoids.” It was a condition which
was to afflict him, especially on horseback, throughout the next 100 days,.
It
was now Friday, 3, March, 1815, and before dawn, Napoleon and his
army set off again, rejoining the main road and marching 25
kilometers to Castellane, at 700 meters altitude. They had escaped
the highest mountains, and for the first time a few in the crowd
shouted, “Vive La Emperor!” Without pausing the army continued
another 25 kilometers to the lavender fields surrounding the village
of Barreme. Here Napoleon again stopped for the night, and to rest his
weary soldiers.
Seven
hundred seventy kilometers to the north, in the Tuileries Palace (above) in
Paris...
...French Minister of War, General Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult (above) informed Louis Stanislas Xavier Bourbon, a.k.a., King Louis XVIII of France,
that Napoleon had landed three days earlier. The acerbic Soult
assured his King the 60,000 troops scattered about the south of France
would easily deal with Napoleon's 600. The issue he told the King,
was “...a mere matter for the gendarmerie.”
But fat Louis, though gout ridden, was not
quite as dense as his detractors wanted to believe. He responded
thoughtfully, “ It will depend on the behavior of the first
regiment Bonaparte encounters.” Soult predicted that first
encounter would take place at Grenoble.
That night “Le Rougeaud”
(red faced) Marshall Michel Ney (above) , whom Napoleon had called his
“Bravest of the Brave”, left Paris to take command of troops at Grenoble and secure the Emperor's arrest
or death. He promised Louis to bring Napoleon back “in an iron
cage.”
Before
dawn on Saturday, 4 March 1815, Napoleon's army set out for Digne, 30
kilometers to the north west. And a few hours after Napoleon's force
left the village, three companies of the 27th regiment of
royal infantry – about 400 men - appeared on the same road.
They
had been intended as the core of a blocking force further south, but the devil Napoleon's decision to pass through the Gorges of the Siagne had
outflanked them, and left them rushing to catch up to him. But now,
with a royal force gathering at Grenoble, Napoleon's petite army
would be squeezed between the two.
Twenty
kilometers beyond Digne, the petite army camped around the Chateau
Noguier just outside of the small village of Malijai, while the
Emperor spent another evening inside. But in the morning, Sunday, 5
March, he was again near the head of his column, marching for the
bottleneck at the “Gateway to Provence”, the fortress town of
Sisterton, on the River Durance - 40 kilometers to the northwest of
Digne. But the 3,500 residents of Sisterton were strongly royalist.
Lead and powder stored there had been moved beyond the Emperor's
reach.
Napoleon
passed through the hostile commune as quickly as he could. Instead,
he continued another 50 kilometers to the regional capital of Gap,
where he paused only long enough to print up a proclamation.
It told the
people of France, “Your wishes are granted. The cause of the nation
will triumph again. You are right to call me your father; I live for
the honor and happiness of France.” After overpaying for a
carriage, wherein he could rest his hemorrhoids, Napoleon was on the
march again by 2:00 p.m. This time the abusive father of France was
headed 40 kilometers to the north to the tiny village of Corps.
There, early the next morning, he was awakened from his sleep in the
Hotel du Palais, and informed the enemy had been met.
It
was a most French of encounters. At about midnight, that Monday, 6
March, two staff officers – one from Napoleon's advance guard, the
other from the advance guard of the 5th Royal Infantry -
met at the front desk of the hotel in the village of La Mure, both
there to reserve rooms for their officers. The two old comrades
cordially greeted each, reserved accommodations, and then rushed to
inform their respective commanders.
Marshall Ney had ordered the Pont du Haut bridge over the la Bonne River destroyed, and dispatched the first battalion of the 5th regiment to blow it up or burn it. But General Cambronne's advance
guard got there first, securing both the bridge and the village of La Mure (above). He immediately sent word back to
Napoleon. Tomorrow would be the day of decision.
Napoleon
and his 600 men arrived in La Mure at 8:00 a.m, on Monday, 6 March,
1815, and crossed over the bridge.
They then advanced 16 kilometers to the prairie now called de la Recontre -
“Field of Encounter” - outside the tiny village of Laffrey.
Arriving there about 11:00 a.m., the Emperor mounted Tauris and
slowly rode forward to the face 800 men of the first battalion of the
5th royal infantry regiment (above), formed up in firing lines.
The Emperor knew that a few kilometers behind these 800 men was
another battalion, this from the 7th royal regiment,
rushing to their support. It was vital the Emperor resolve the issue
in his favor before that second battalion arrived, and before the 400 soldiers to his rear, caught up.
From
atop his own horse, Major Lessart in command of the 5th
infantry, ordered his men to raise their weapons - “Armes!” In
unison the troops lifted their muskets to their shoulders. Napoleon
slowly rode forward until he was half way between the opposing ranks.
Then he dismounted. Lessart shouted, “Joue!” - Ready! And 800
hammers were pulled back on 800 muskets.
By a sweep of his arm,
Napoleon signaled his Old Guard to lower their own muskets. Raggedly,
reluctantly, they did so. Then Napoleon opened his gray frock coat,
baring his white shirt to the ranks of bayonets and muskets. Major
Lessart shouted, “Feu!” - fire! And the world caught it's breath.
Not
one of the 800 members of the Fifth regiment pulled their triggers.
Not a single flint sparked. But, in the silence, no one lowered their
weapon, either. The fate of France teetered on a knife's edge.
Napoleon took a long breath, and removed his hat. The second in
command of the Fifth shouted desperately, “Feu! Feu! Feu!”. In a
loud, firm voice, Napoleon shouted over those words, “"Soldiers of the Fifth. I
am your Emperor. If there is among you a soldier who wants to kill
his Emperor, here I am!"
Major
Lassart shouted again, “Feu!” And while that order still
reverberated in the spring air, Napoleon continued. “Soldiers! I
come to you with a handful of good people, because I count on the
people and you. The throne of the Bourbons is illegitimate since it
was not raised by the nation. Your fathers are threatened with the
return of tithes and feudal rights. It is not ambition that brings me
among you. The forty-five best heads of the government of Paris have
called me from Elba, and my return is supported by the three first
powers of Europe.”
It
was a lie, of course. No one in the Paris government had called for his return.
And this same day, the heads of the victorious European powers, meeting at the Congress of Vienna, had labeled Napoleon an outlaw, and pledged 150,000 men each to destroy him. But that would not be generally known for
weeks. By then it would no longer matter.
Those lies broke the ties
between the French army and the Bourbon monarchy. The soldiers of the 5th
infantry lowered their weapons, and began to shout, “Vive
l’Empereur!” - Long live the Emperor!” As the writer
Honoré de Balzac described
it, “...once again, France gave herself to Napoleon, just as a
pretty girl abandons herself to a Lancer”.
The
next day the 7th regiment at Grenoble switched sides and joined the ranks of
Napoleon's army. Napoleon said later, “Before Grenoble I was an
adventurer. At Grenoble I was a ruling prince.”
On 8 March, the
mayor of Lyon not only opened the city gates to Napoleon, he had them removed and presented to the Emperor as a gift (above). On 11 March the
Rothschild bankers received early word of Napoleon's success at
Grenoble and sold 600,000 shares of English bonds on the London stock
exchange, turning a handsome profit when the stocks plummeted 24 hours later.
On 14 March, Marshall Ney (above), leading 6,000 soldiers, switched sides and rejoined his Emperor.
On Sunday, 19 March, King Louis XVIII (above) abandoned Paris and ran for the coast. The next day, Napoleon
occupied the capital.
A
mere 89 days later, on Sunday, 18, June, 1815, France got the bill
for their brief re-infatuation with Napoleon – some 40,0000 dead and
and wounded on the fields of Waterloo and a half dozen other towns
across Belgium , France and Italy. For the next 3 years, the allied
armies – Prussia, Russia and Austria and England - would impose a 700 million
franc bill for occupying France. But the greatest cost of feeding
Napoleon's ego was that after the little corporal sailed off to his
final exile on St. Helena, there were more women still alive in France than men.
As
Napoleon himself said, “There is but one step from the sublime to
the ridiculous.” And from his tiny palace on St. Helena he assured his devastated nation, “In five hundred years' time, the
French imagination will be full of me. They will talk only of the
glory of our brilliant campaigns. Heaven help anyone who dares to
speak ill of me."
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