In their interview, late at night on the 4th, they seemed to make a great impression, especially when they reminded him of his promise not to force any government on France.  Next, the Czar called in the members of the Provisional Government, and heard their arguments that a Regency must speedily give way before the impact of the one masterful will.  Yet again Alexander listened to the eloquence of Caulaincourt, and finally to the pleadings of the now anxious provisionals.  So the night wore on at Talleyrand’s mansion, the Czar finally stating that, after hearing the Prussian monarch’s advice, he would give his decision.  And shortly before dawn came the news that Marmont’s corps had marched over to the enemy.  “You see,” said Alexander to Pozzo di Borgo, “it is Providence that wills it:  no more doubt or hesitation now."[450]

On that same night, in fact, Marmont’s corps of 12,000 men was brought from Essonne within the lines of the allies, by the Marshal’s generals.  Marmont himself was then in Paris, having been induced by Ney and Macdonald to come with them, so as to hinder the carrying out of his treasonable design; but his generals, who were in the secret, were alarmed by the frequency of Napoleon’s couriers, and carried out the original plan.  Thus, at dawn of the 5th, the rank and file found themselves amidst the columns and squadrons of the allies.  It was now too late to escape; the men swore at their leaders with helpless fury; and 12,000 men were thus filched from Napoleon’s array.[451]

If this conduct be viewed from the personal standpoint, it must be judged a base betrayal of an old friend and benefactor; and it is usually regarded in that light alone.  And yet Marmont might plead that his action was necessary to prevent Napoleon sacrificing his troops, and perhaps also his capital, to a morbid pride and desire for revenge.  The Marshal owed something to France.  The Chambers had pronounced his master’s abdication, and Paris seemed to acquiesce in their decision:  Bordeaux and Lyons had now definitely hoisted the white flag:  Wellington had triumphed in the south; Schwarzenberg marshalled 140,000 men around the capital; and Marmont knew, perhaps, better than any of the Marshals, the obstinacy of that terrible will which had strewn the roads between Moscow, Paris, and Lisbon with a million of corpses.  Was it not time that this should end?  And would it end as long as Napoleon saw any chance of snatching a temporary success?

However we may regard Marmont’s conduct, there can be no doubt that it helped on Napoleon’s fall.  The Czar was too subtle a diplomatist to attach much importance to Napoleon’s declaration cited above.  He must have seen in it a device to gain time.  But he himself also wished for a few more hours’ respite before flinging away the scabbard; and we may regard his lengthy balancings between the pleas of Caulaincourt and Talleyrand as prompted partly by a wish to sip to the full the sweets of revenge for the occupation of Moscow, but mainly by the resolve to mark time until Marmont’s corps had been brought over.