Even his former enemies could not restrain an expression of admiration for the man in whose direction all eyes turned. Chateaubriand gave utterance to the famous saying, "that Napoleon's grey coat and hat upon a stick, planted on the coast at Brest, would be enough to make all Europe take up arms."
Béranger wrote the soulful poem _Les souvenirs du peuple_, which perhaps gives us the simplest and most beautiful picture of the legendary hero, but also that which has least resemblance to the real man, for it makes him out to be as kindly as he is great. It is the poem which begins:
On parlera de sa gloire Sous le chaume bien long-temps: L'humble toit, dans cinquante ans, Ne connaîtra plus d'autre histoire.
The reminiscences of the Emperor are put into the mouth of the old grandmother, who at different periods of her life has seen him--first as the victorious general, then as the happy father on his way to Notre Dame, then as the defender of France against the allied armies. A good specimen verse is:
Mes enfants, dans ce village, Suivi de rois, il passa. Voilà bien long-temps de ça: Je venais d'entrer en ménage. À pied grimpant le coteau Où pour voir je m'étais mise Il avait petit chapeau Et redingote grise. Près de lui je me troublai! Il me dit: Bon jour, ma chère, Bon jour, ma chère. Il vous a parlé, grand'mère, Il vous a parlé!
The young men who not long ago had been thankful to break their ranks and escape from the tyranny of military discipline, now began to look back with longing to the heroic days of the Consulate and the Empire. They had been dreaming, writes De Musset, of the ice of Russia and the sun of the Pyramids, and the world of the day seemed an empty, colourless world. "The King of France sat upon his throne, and some held out their hats for him to throw an alms into them, and others held out crucifixes, which he kissed. And when boys talked of glory, the answer was: 'Become priests!' and when they talked of honour, the answer was: 'Become priests!' and when they talked of hope, of love, of energy and life, it was still: 'Become priests!'"[2]
And so they became priests. Why and how they did it we can learn from the novels which describe the life of the period, such as Beyle's _Rouge et Noire_. This was undoubtedly the priests' golden age. On the 7th of June 1814, three days after the publication of the Charter, the notorious law was passed which prescribed compulsory observation of Sundays and holy-days. Frenchmen were to be Catholics under penalty of fine. Even the adherents of other creeds were obliged to decorate their houses on the occasion of processions of the Holy Sacrament. On the 7th of August 1814 the order of the Jesuits was solemnly re-established. The education of the country was placed in the hands of the clergy. As much of its power as possible was taken from the University, if for no other reason than because numbers of the students had taken part in the defence of Paris against the foreign troops, _i.e._ the allies of the monarchy.