r Napoleon learned the news of the taking of Paris by the allies.
The Emperor was marching upon Paris at the head of his guard. Near
Juvisy, at a place in the Forest of Fontainebleau where there is an
obelisk ("that I never see without feeling heavy at heart," remarked the
King), a courier on his way to meet Napoleon brought him the news of the
capitulation of Paris. Paris had been taken. The enemy had entered it.
The Emperor turned pale. He hid his face in his hands and remained thus,
motionless, for a quarter of an hour. Then, without saying a word, he
turned about and took the road back to Fontainebleau.
General Athalin witnessed this scene and recounted it to the King.
July, 1844.
A few days ago the King said to Marshal Soult (in presence of others):
"Marshal, do you remember the siege of Cadiz?"
"Rather, sire, I should think so. I swore enough before that cursed
Cadiz. I invested the place and was forced to go away as I had come."
"Marshal, while you were before it, I was inside it."
"I know, sire."
"The Cortes and the English Cabinet offered me the command of the
Spanish army."
"I remember it."
"The offer was a grave one. I hesitated long. Bear arms against France!
For my family, it is possible; but against my country! I was greatly
perplexed. At this juncture you asked me, through a trusty person, for
a secret interview in a little house situated on the Cortadura, between
the city and your camp. Do you remember the fact, Monsieur the Marshal?"
"Perfectly, sire; the day was fixed and the interview arranged."
"And I did not turn up."
"That is so."
"Do you know why?"
"I never knew."
"I will tell you. As I was preparing to go to meet you, the commander
of the English squadron, apprised of the matter, I know not how, dropped
upon me brusquely and warned me that I was about to fall into a trap;
that Cadiz being impregnable, they despaired of seizing me, but that at
the Cortadura I should be arrested by you; that the Emperor wished to
make of the Duke d'Orleans a second volume of the Duke d'Enghien, and
that you would have me shot immediately. There, really," added the King
with a smile, "your hand on your conscience, were you going to shoot
me?"
The Marshal remained silent for a moment, then replied, with a smile not
less inexpressible than that of the King:
"No, sire; I wanted to compromise you."
The subject of conversation was changed. A few minutes later the Marshal
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