The Fall of Napoleon and the Restoration of the Bourbons

The year 1815 marked a turbulent period in French history. Following Napoleon’s dramatic return from exile on Elba during the Hundred Days, Europe once again mobilized against the French emperor. The decisive Battle of Waterloo on June 18 spelled the end of Napoleon’s rule, leading to his second abdication and the restoration of King Louis XVIII to the French throne. This second restoration brought with it a wave of royalist vengeance against those who had supported Napoleon’s return.

Among those caught in this political maelstrom was Marshal Michel Ney, one of Napoleon’s most celebrated commanders. Known as “the bravest of the brave” for his battlefield heroics, Ney now found himself facing charges of treason for his role in switching allegiance to Napoleon during the Hundred Days. His trial would become one of the most controversial episodes of the Bourbon Restoration.

The Arrest and Imprisonment of a Marshal

On August 19, as the carriage transporting Ney passed through southern France, another dramatic execution was taking place in Paris. Colonel Charles de La Bédoyère, another prominent officer who had joined Napoleon, faced a firing squad at Grenelle. When Ney’s party reached Paris, news of La Bédoyère’s execution spread quickly among the crowds. “Why don’t we go see La Bédoyère’s execution?” some suggested. “Oh God, La Bédoyère,” murmured Ney, who had remained silent in his corner until that moment, before retreating back into silence.

Ney was taken directly to police headquarters where the prefect, Élie Decazes, ordered his confinement in the Conciergerie prison. Ironically, Ney’s cell was located directly above the former quarters of Marie Antoinette. The marshal was permitted exercise in the courtyard but found the hours dragging. To pass the time, he requested a flute – an instrument he had learned to play during his early years with the Army of the Rhine. His playing carried a rustic quality that amused his jailers, though they eventually confiscated the instrument, fearing he might use it to communicate with other prisoners.

The Interrogations Begin

On August 20, Decazes himself came to interrogate Ney. The 35-year-old police prefect, a former lawyer who had served as legal advisor to Napoleon’s mother, cut an impressive figure with his blond hair and youthful appearance. Confident in his position and the king’s favor, Decazes approached the interrogation with characteristic arrogance.

Ney’s family requested visitation rights, but Decazes insisted on questioning first. “You may not share my opinion,” he wrote to Fouché, the minister of police, “but I will listen to your views… In any case, I want to question him tonight.” Having earned royal favor by arresting La Bédoyère, Decazes saw Ney as an even more valuable prize.

Ney, however, proved a formidable opponent during questioning. “I am not obliged to answer your questions,” he declared, “and I will not appear before a military court. I will only answer to the Chamber of Peers! I will answer questions I consider reasonable, but I want to know why I’m here? And why does that list refer to me simply as ‘Ney’?” He demanded legal representation, which Decazes denied, citing the secrecy of the investigation.

“That means,” Ney countered, “my arrest is arbitrary and without legal basis.” He then admitted making his famous “iron cage” promise to the king but insisted he had remained loyal until the night of March 13. He claimed to have sent officers with messages to the Count of Artois and marshals Oudinot and Suchet. “I wrote to my regimental officers telling them to do their duty for the king’s sake,” Ney asserted. “I said publicly that if I saw anyone hesitate, I would be the first to fire!”

Decazes pressed him: “Then how do you explain your change of attitude? How do you explain your actions on the 14th? Your duty was the same!”

“From that moment,” Ney replied, “I wanted to blow my brains out. The only reason I didn’t was because I needed to examine myself. I know honest people blame me, and I blame myself. I was wrong, but I am not a traitor! I was misled!” He refused to name the two officers who had met with him at Lons-le-Saunier but mentioned that marshals Bourmont and Lecourbe had approved his reading of Napoleon’s proclamation.

When Decazes insinuated that Ney had demanded money from the king before his departure, the marshal erupted in anger. “That’s a lie, and I’d be the first to kill whoever says it’s true! Do you believe that, sir?” Ney roared.

“No, no, not me, Marshal,” Decazes hastily replied. “I only heard it mentioned. I forget by whom.” Having failed to extract any damning admissions and only succeeding in angering Ney, Decazes wisely ended the interrogation.

The Formation of the Military Tribunal

Two days later, Decazes returned but made no progress in getting Ney to admit to premeditated treason. “How does one explain such a sudden change?” Ney mused. “It’s hard to describe. I was like a man facing a breached dam. I didn’t change until the morning I read the proclamation. I had no information. Before the 13th, I’d received no messages from Napoleon, nor had anyone contacted me. I was completely unaware of what was happening at the front. Undoubtedly, I shouldn’t have read that proclamation. I was deceived.”

Frustrated by Ney’s steadfastness, Decazes concluded that the marshal had suffered a temporary lapse of judgment on March 14 and only now realized his mistake. With no evidence of premeditated treason, Decazes arranged for Marshal Gouvion Saint-Cyr, the war minister, to convene a military tribunal while allowing Ney access to lawyers.

On August 21, Saint-Cyr established the court-martial to try Ney. Several marshals – Masséna, Oudinot, Mortier, and Moncey – initially refused to participate. Masséna and Oudinot cited health reasons, while Mortier expressed private reservations. Moncey flatly refused, even after being warned that refusal would constitute disobedience to the king’s orders and result in loss of rank and imprisonment. While Masséna and Oudinot eventually relented under this pressure, Moncey remained steadfast, sending the king a remarkable letter that soon circulated throughout Paris:

“Your Majesty,” Moncey wrote, “allow me to raise my weak voice before you. Permit a man who has never strayed from honor to warn you that your person and your throne are in danger… I cannot judge whether Marshal Ney is guilty – your fairness in judging him will show posterity whether king or people weigh heavier on the scales of justice… Has France not shed enough blood? Have our misfortunes not been deep enough? When will France’s humiliations end?”

Moncey’s courageous stand earned him dismissal from his post and confinement, but his words resonated with many French citizens who feared the Bourbons’ vengeful policies would destabilize the fragile restoration.

The Military Court’s Dilemma

By August 30, the military tribunal had been formally constituted with Marshal Jourdan as president. Other members included Marshals Masséna, Oudinot, and Mortier, along with Generals Villatte, Claparède, and Gazan – all men who had served alongside Ney at various points in their careers. Jourdan, who had initially supported Napoleon during the Hundred Days but avoided participating in the Waterloo campaign, now sought to demonstrate his loyalty to the restored monarchy.

The court began examining witnesses on September 14-15, October 7, and November 4, but Ney remained consistent in his defense: his actions at Lons-le-Saunier had been aimed at preventing civil war. “Ney answered all questions,” noted General Grundler, the court’s recorder. “He only wanted to explain the events, but from the start he challenged the military court’s jurisdiction.”

Ney’s legal team, led by the renowned lawyer Berryer père and his son Antoine, along with André Dupin, based their defense on two key arguments: first, that as a marshal and peer of France, Ney could only be tried by the Chamber of Peers; and second, that his actions had been motivated by a desire to prevent bloodshed. Berryer argued that the king’s order for a military trial was actually an attempt to save Ney, as fellow soldiers might be more sympathetic than politicians. But Ney disagreed: “They’ll shoot me like a rabbit,” he predicted. “What is freedom without honor? I’m not afraid to die! On the battlefield, in Russia’s frozen wastes, I’ve faced death countless times. But I confess to you – I want to live!”

The military court convened on November 9 at the Palais de Justice. Ney did not attend this first session, which consisted mainly of reading documents and witness statements. Distinguished foreign observers filled the gallery, including Prince Metternich and Lord Castlereagh. “Dreadfully tedious,” Metternich remarked as fashionable ladies yawned behind their fans.

When the court reconvened the next day amid rumors of a rescue attempt, Ney appeared under heavy guard. Dressed in full uniform with the Legion of Honor sash and a black armband (either mourning his father-in-law or commemorating fallen comrades), he carried himself with calm dignity. After formal identification, Ney read a statement challenging the court’s jurisdiction over him as a marshal of France.

The judges retired to consider this fundamental question: did a military court have authority to try Marshal Ney for treason? By a vote of 5-2 (with Mortier and Oudinot dissenting), they ruled they did not. “We’re all cowards,” Oudinot later admitted. “We should have stood by our rights and saved Ney!” For the moment, it seemed Ney might escape the death penalty.

The Chamber of Peers Takes Over

The government, however, had no intention of releasing its prize. On November 11, the Duc de Richelieu, foreign minister and president of the council, moved to have Ney tried by the Chamber of Peers. This body of 161 nobles (with Talleyrand absent and Oudinot again refusing to participate) represented not just the French monarchy but also the victorious Allied powers who had insisted on Napoleon’s removal.

As preparations began for this new trial, Ney’s supporters circulated a memorandum citing Article XII of the Paris Convention (July 3, 1815), which promised no prosecutions for political acts during the Hundred Days. Ney’s wife, Aglaé, tirelessly petitioned foreign ambassadors and even wrote to the Duke of Wellington, but received only polite refusals. The Allies maintained the Convention didn’t bind the king’s treatment of his subjects.

On November 20, a new Treaty of Paris was signed, effectively closing any loopholes that might have protected Ney. The next day, his trial before the Chamber of Peers began in the Luxembourg Palace. The chamber, packed with foreign dignitaries, heard prosecutor Bellart deliver a scathing indictment portraying Ney as a calculating traitor who had deliberately undermined royalist resistance to Napoleon.

Ney, again appearing calm and composed, challenged the proceedings by invoking the Paris Convention’s protections. The prosecution objected strenuously, and after heated debate, the peers voted to exclude consideration of the treaty – a crucial blow to Ney’s defense.

Dramatic Testimony and Final Arguments

The trial’s most dramatic moment came when General Bourmont testified. A royalist who had switched sides multiple times, Bourmont claimed Ney had planned his defection in advance, even producing his Legion of Honor medal prematurely. Ney exploded: “This man, Monsieur de Bourmont, seeks to excuse his own conduct by accusing me! He’s had eight months to prepare his story… The death of Lecourbe is my greatest misfortune, but from another place he can still testify!” Raising his hand, Ney continued: “I will defend myself against this accusation before a higher tribunal. God hears us and will judge us – you and me, Monsieur de Bourmont!”

Other witnesses, including the late Lecourbe’s deposition, supported Ney’s version of events. Marshal Oudinot confirmed receiving letters from Ney expressing determination to resist Napoleon as late as March 12-13. The final witnesses were Marshal Davout and two officials involved in negotiating the July 3 Convention. Davout testified that France’s army could have continued fighting when the treaty was signed, and that its protections were meant to be comprehensive.

When Berryer asked Davout to explain Article XII’s intent, prosecutor Bellart objected furiously, knowing this line of questioning threatened the entire case. Ney interjected: “That article is protective, and I counted on it. Otherwise why didn’t I die on the battlefield? Though arrested, I didn’t surrender. I trusted the treaty, so I remained in France.” His implication was clear: the trial was political vengeance, violating the Convention’s terms.

The Verdict and Execution

After closing arguments on December 6, the peers deliberated three questions: whether Ney had met with Napoleon’s emissaries; whether he had incited troops to rebel; and whether he had compromised state security. The votes were overwhelmingly guilty on all counts – 157 to 4 on the final charge. Then came sentencing: 139 voted for death, 17 for exile, and 5 abstained while pleading for royal mercy.

At midnight on December 6-7, the peers signed the death warrant. Ney, informed of the verdict by his lawyers, reportedly said: “I have fought a hundred battles for France, and not one against her.” The execution was set for the morning of December 7 near the Luxembourg Gardens.

As dawn broke, Ney refused a blindfold and was permitted to give the firing squad’s order himself. “Soldiers,” he said, “when I give the command to fire, fire straight at my heart. Wait for the order. It will be my last to you. I protest against my condemnation. I have fought a hundred battles for France, and not one against her… Soldiers, fire!” With these words, one of Napoleon’s greatest marshals fell, his death marking both the end of an era and the Bourbons’ failure to achieve national reconciliation.

The execution shocked Europe and turned Ney into a martyr. While the Bourbons sought to eliminate potential opposition, their harsh treatment of a national hero only deepened divisions in French society. Ney’s trial and death became emblematic of the White Terror’s excesses, contributing to the growing unpopularity that would eventually lead to the July Revolution of 1830. Today, historians view the episode as a tragic collision between revolutionary ideals and reactionary politics, with a brave soldier caught in the middle.