Anecdotes of Sieyes.—The Emperor Frequently Attended Popular Festivities in Disguise.—His Visits to the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, After His Return from Moscow and from the Island of Elba.—Manners During

16th.—The Emperor sent for me about noon. He had beenbeen reading and was just finishing his coffee. He desired me to sit down, and he entered into conversation. Not a word escaped him that could lead me to suppose he knew the determination we had adopted yesterday evening; he made no allusion to the subject, and it was not mentioned throughout the whole of the day. After breakfast, the Emperor walked about his apartments. The turn of the conversation introduced some anecdotes of former times, of which Sieyes was the subject. The Emperor related that while Sieyes was chaplain to the Princes of Orleans, being one day engaged in performing mass, something unexpectedly occasioned the Princes to withdraw during the service; upon which the Abbé, looking up and seeing only the valets present, immediately closed his book, observing that he was not engaged to perform mass to the rabble.

“Your Majesty,” said I, “was the first who made me acquainted with the name and person of Sieyes. A few days after my presentation at Court, your Majesty, at one of your audiences, having passed by me, stopped to speak to the person who stood next to me, addressing him by name. All my emigrant prejudices were yet in full force and I thought myself polluted by coming in contact with one whom I regarded as an absolute monster, and whom I had never heard mentioned except as an object of the bitterest imprecation.” “Doubtless,” said the Emperor, “you were thinking of the mort sans phrase. But I have heard it affirmed that Sieyes denied that.”

I now repeated an anecdote which used to be circulated in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and on which, the first time I related it, the Emperor made no observation. Sieyes was described as having used the epithet tyrant in speaking of Louis XVI., to which Napoleon was said to have replied, “Monsieur l‘Abbé, if he had been a tyrant, I should not be here, and you would still be performing mass.” “I might have thought so,” said the Emperor, on my relating this anecdote for the second time; “but I should certainly not have been fool enough to say so. This is one of the absurd stories invented in the drawing-rooms of Paris. I never committed blunders of that kind: my object was to extinguish, and not to feed, the flame. The torrent of hostility was already too forcibly directed against certain leaders of the Revolution. I found it necessary to support and countenance them; and I did so. Some one having procured—God knows where—a bust of Sieyes in his ecclesiastical character, it was publickly exhibited, and occasioned a universal uproar. Sieyes, in a furious passion, set out to make a complaint to me; but I had already given the necessary reprimand, and the bust was again consigned to obscurity.

“My great principle was to guard against re-action, and to bury the past in oblivion. I never condemned any opinion, or proscribed any act. I was surrounded by the men who had voted for the death of Louis XVI.: they were in the Ministry, and in the Council of State. I did not approve of their doctrines; but what had I to do with them? what right had I to constitute myself their judge?” Some had been actuated by conviction, others by weakness and terror, and all by the delirium and fury of the moment. The fatality of the Greek tragedy was exemplified in the life of Louis XVI.”

I told the Emperor that it was reported in the Faubourg Saint-Germain that Sieyes had been detected in a conspiracy against him, in the affair of M. Clement de Ris; and that he (Napoleon) had pardoned him, on condition of his entirely withdrawing himself from any participation in political affairs. “This is another idle story, for which there is not the slightest foundation,” said the Emperor. “Sieyes was always attached to me, and I never had any cause to complain of him. He was probably vexed to find that I opposed his metaphysical ideas; but he was at length convinced that it was necessary for France to have a ruler, and he preferred me to any other. Sieyes was, after all, an honest and a very clever man: he did much for the Revolution.”

The Emperor mentioned that at one of the first public festivals that took place during the Consulate, as he was viewing the illuminations in company with Sieyes, he asked him what he thought of the state of affairs. Sieyes replied in a cold and even a disheartening tone. “And yet,” resumed Napoleon, “I had this morning very satisfactory proofs of the spirit of the people.”—“It is seldom,” replied Sieyes, “that the people shew their real spirit, when the man who is possessed of power presents himself to their gaze. I can assure you they are far from being satisfied.”—“Then you do not think the present government firmly established?”—“No.”—“And when do you suppose we shall be settled?“—“When I see the Dukes and Marquises of the old court in your ante-chamber.“—“Sieyes,” added the Emperor, “little dreamed that this would so soon be the case. He was short-sighted, and could not see very far before him. I thought, as he did, that all could not end with the Republic; but I foresaw the establishment of the Empire. Accordingly, two or three years afterwards, the circumstance I have just related being still fresh in my recollection, I said to Sieyes, at one of my grand audiences: Well, you are now pell-mell with all the old Dukes and Marquises; do you think all is settled now?”—“Oh, yes,” replied Sieyes, bowing profoundly; “you have wrought miracles, which were never before equalled, and which I never could have foreseen.”

During the Consulate, Napoleon was once standing in front of the Hotel de la Marine, viewing a public illumination. Beside him was a lady, who to all appearance had formerly moved in a distinguished sphere, accompanied by her daughter, a very pretty girl, to whom she was pointing out all the persons of note, as they passed to and fro in the apartments. Calling her daughter’s attention to a certain individual, she said: “Remind me to go and pay my respects to him some day. We ought to do so, for he has rendered us great service.” “But, mother,” replied the young lady, “I did not know that we were expected to shew gratitude to such people. I thought they were too happy in being able to oblige persons of our quality.” “Certainly,” said the Emperor, “La Bruyere would have turned this incident to good account.”

Napoleon sometimes went out in disguise early in the morning, traversing the streets of the capital alone, and mingling with the labouring classes of the people, with whose condition and sentiments he wished to make himself acquainted. In the Council of State I have often heard him advise the Prefect of Police to adopt this plan. He called it the Caliph system of police, and said he esteemed it to be the best.

On his return from the disastrous campaigns of Moscow and Leipsic, Napoleon, in order to maintain the appearance of confidence, frequently appeared amidst the multitude with scarcely any attendants. He visited the market-places, the faubourgs, and all the populous districts of the capital, conversing familiarly with the people; and he was every where received and treated with respect.

One day, at La Halle, a woman with whom he had been holding a little dialogue, bluntly told him he ought to make peace. “Good woman,” replied the Emperor, “sell your greens, and leave me to settle my affairs. Let every one attend to his own calling.” The bystanders laughed, and applauded him.

On another occasion, at the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, when surrounded by an immense concourse of people, whom he was treating very condescendingly, some one asked whether affairs were really as bad as they were represented to be? “Why, certainly,” replied the Emperor, “I cannot say that things are going on very well.” “But what will be the end of this?” “Heaven knows!” “Will the enemy enter France?” “Very possibly; and he may even march to Paris if you do not assist me. I have not a million of arms. I cannot do all by my own individual efforts.” “We will support you,” exclaimed a number of voices. “Then I shall beat the enemy, and preserve the glory of France.” “But what must we do?” “You must enlist and fight.” “We will,’ said one of the crowd; “but we must make a few conditions!” “What are they?” “We will not pass the frontier.” “You shall not be required to do so.” “We wish to serve in the guards,” said another. “You shall do so.” The air instantly resounded with acclamations. Registers were immediately opened, and two thousand men enlisted in the course of the day. Napoleon returned to the Tuileries; and, as he entered the Place Carousel on horseback, surrounded by the multitude, whose acclamations rent the air, it was supposed that an insurrection had broken out, and the gates were about to be closed.

On his return from the Island of Elba, the Emperor made another visit to the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where he was received with equal enthusiasm, and conducted back to the palace in a similar manner. As he passed through the Faubourg Saint-Germain, the multitude who escorted him halted before the principal hotels, and manifested their disapprobation by angry words and gestures. The Emperor observed that he had scarcely ever been placed in so delicate a situation. “How many evils might have ensued,” said he, “had a single stone been thrown by the mob. Had a single imprudent word, or even an equivocal look, escaped me, the whole Faubourg might have been destroyed; and I am convinced that its preservation was to be attributed wholly to my presence of mind, and the respect which the multitude entertained for me.”

To-day I attended the Emperor at his toilet. Santini was cutting his hair, and a large tuft fell at my feet. I stooped to pick it up, and the Emperor, observing me, asked what I was doing. I replied that I had dropped something, upon which he smiled and pinched my ear: he guessed what I had picked up.

Speaking of the depravity and corruption of manners which prevailed at the time when he commanded the army of the interior in Paris, Napoleon mentioned that a contractor came to solicit some signatures from him, and to beg that he would give his support to certain appointments and supplies: this he promised to do without hesitation, conceiving that there was nothing unfair in the proposal. Before he withdrew, the contractor dextrously took an opportunity of leaving on the chimney-piece two rouleaux containing a hundred Louis. This was an enormous sum in specie, for at that time paper money was chiefly in use. Fortunately, the General was the first to discover the circumstance, and the visitor was called back before he had gone far. He at first attempted to deny having left the money; but he afterwards acknowledged it, observing that every one must live, and that the method he had adopted was, he believed, the general one. He, however, hoped that he might be forgiven if he had unintentionally done wrong, adding that it was very seldom necessary to ask pardon for such offences.

At the hour at which the Emperor generally takes his walk, he found himself very drowsy; but he was determined to rouse himself, and he went out though the wind was blowing violently. After walking a short distance, he returned to the house, and we entered Madame de Montholon’s apartment. The Emperor had no sooner seated himself on the sofa, than he felt inclined to fall asleep. He rose and proceeded to the drawing-room. He complained of great internal heat, and asked for a glass of toast and water. His drowsiness still continued, and he retired to his chamber to lie down.

About seven o’clock he sent for me, and gave me the following note, which he desired me to keep along with the rest of the official papers. It was the copy of a note which he had sent that morning to the Governor....

Note.—“I recollect that in a conversation which took place between General Lowe and some of the gentlemen of my suite, (alluding to the conversation of the 15th,) some observations were made respecting my situation, which were not conformable with my ideas. I abdicated to the Representatives of the people and in favour of my son. I proceeded with confidence to England, with the intention of living either there or in America, in profound retirement, and under the name of a Colonel who was killed in battle by my side. I had resolved to have nothing to do with political affairs of any kind whatever.

“When I went on board the Northumberland, I was informed that I was a prisoner of war, that I was to be transported beyond the Line, and that I was to be called General Bonaparte. This obliged me to retain ostensibly the title of the Emperor Napoleon, in opposition to the name of General Bonaparte, which was thus to be forced upon me.

“About seven or eight months ago, Count Montholon proposed to obviate the little difficulties that are continually arising, by my adopting an ordinary name. The Admiral thought it necessary to write to London on this subject, and there the matter rested.

“The name which is now applied to me has the advantage of not prejudging the past; but it is not in unison with the forms of society. I am still disposed to assume a name that may be conformable with custom; I once more repeat that whenever I may be released from my cruel captivity, I am still willing to continue a stranger to all political affairs, whatever may take place in the world. Such is my determination; and no other declaration, on this subject, has my sanction.”

The Emperor ate but little dinner; there was something very extraordinary in the lethargy that had come over him. He had been overpowered by drowsiness during the whole of the day; and yet when he withdrew he said he was afraid he should not sleep, his sensations were so extraordinary. He generally rests soundly when he is inclined to sleep, but he had been dozing all day long without being able to get any rest.

To-day a frigate sailed for Europe.