Bautzen.  Don’t you ever forget that time, because it was then that Frenchmen showed how wonderfully heroic they could be.  A good grenadier, in those days, seldom lasted more than six months.  We always won, of course; but there in our rear were the English, stirring up the nations to take sides against us.  But we fought our way through this pack of nations at last.  Wherever Napoleon showed himself, we rushed; and whenever, on land or sea, he said, “I wish to pass,” we passed.

We finally got back to France; and many a poor foot-soldier was braced up by the air of his native country, notwithstanding the hard times we had.  As for myself, in particular, I may say that it renewed my life.

It then became a question of defending the fatherland—­our fair France—­against all Europe.  They didn’t like our laying down the law to the Russians, and our driving them back across their borders, so that they couldn’t devour us, as is the custom of the North.  Those Northern peoples are very greedy for the South, or at least that’s what I’ve heard many generals say.  Then Napoleon saw arrayed against him his own father-in-law, his friends whom he had made kings, and all the scoundrels whom he had put on thrones.  Finally, in pursuance of orders from high quarters, even Frenchmen, and allies in our own ranks, turned against us; as at the battle of Leipsic.  Common soldiers wouldn’t have been mean enough to do that!  Men who called themselves princes broke their word three times a day.

Well, then came the invasion.  Wherever Napoleon showed his lion face the enemy retreated; and he worked more miracles in defending France than he had shown in conquering Italy, the East, Spain, Europe, and Russia.  He wanted to bury all the invaders in France, and thus teach them to respect the country; so he let them come close to Paris, in order to swallow ’em all at a gulp and rise to the height of his genius in a battle greater than all the others—­a regular mother of battles!  But those cowardly Parisians were so afraid for their wretched skins and their miserable shops that they opened the gates of the city.  Then the good times ended and the “ragusades” began.  They fooled the Empress and hung white flags out of the palace windows.  Finally the very generals whom Napoleon had taken for his best friends deserted him and went over to the Bourbons—­of whom nobody had ever before heard.  Then he bade us good-by at Fontainebleau.  “Soldiers!”

I can hear him, even now.  We were all crying like regular babies, and the eagles and flags were lowered as if at a funeral.  And it was a funeral—­the funeral of the Empire.  His old soldiers, once so hale and spruce, were little more than skeletons.  Standing on the portico of his palace, he said to us: 

“Comrades!  We have been beaten through treachery; but we shall all see one another again in heaven, the country of the brave.  Protect my child, whom I intrust to you.  Long live Napoleon II!”