The Emperor, after having read this letter, turned to the Duke of Bassano, and said: "See what the Duke of Orléans writes to Mortier; this letter does him honour. His heart was always French."

I then informed him, that I had been assured, that the Duke of Orléans, when he parted from his officers, said to one of them, Colonel Athalin: "Go, sir, resume the national cockade: I take a pride in having worn it, and I wish I could wear it still." The Emperor appeared struck with these words, and made no reply. A few minutes after he asked me, if I had not a letter from Madame the Duchess of Orléans. I delivered it to him: he read it, and said: "Let his mother be treated with the regard he merits." And he ordered, that the duchess, whose property had just been sequestrated, should receive annually from the public treasury three hundred thousand francs as an indemnification. At the same time another indemnification of a hundred and fifty thousand francs was granted to the Duchess of Bourbon.

The Duke of Bourbon, though the Emperor had announced his embarkation, did not sail however till several days afterward. His presence and his proclamation had produced a partial rising in the circle of Beaupréau; but convinced by his own eyes, and by the reports of his principal officers, that the great body of the Vendeans would not stir, he yielded to the wishes of Colonel Noirot, commandant of the gendarmerie, expressed in the following letter:

"Monseigneur,

"It will not be in vain, I am persuaded, that I make an appeal to your magnanimity. It is in your power, with a single word, to calm an effervescence, the first results of which may once more stain with blood the fields of the too unhappy Vendée: this word your Highness will pronounce, and every thing will be restored to order. You will be aware likewise, Monseigneur, that a longer stay in the circle of Beaupréau, while it endangers the internal security of the country, will also endanger the personal safety of your Highness.

"Deign then, I conjure you, Monseigneur, to yield to the wishes I entertain for your happiness, and for that of my country. For all the means of safety, which your Highness may desire, to repair to the place of destination you may choose, I will engage."

This letter, which I take a pleasure in quoting, to prove what was the language of the men of the 20th of March, was not without effect. The Duke of Bourbon directed his aide-de-camp to have an interview with Colonel Noirot and it was determined, that his Highness should quit la Vendée, and embark at Nantes for England.

For reasons with which I am unacquainted, the prince did not fulfil his engagements. In fact, he quitted Beaupréau, but still roamed about the coast some time with a fictitious passport, and under a borrowed name. General—[86] recognised him, but respected his disguise. The Emperor approved this deference, and gave orders, that he should merely be obliged to depart: the father of the Duke of Enghien was become sacred to him, and to France.

Of all the family of the Bourbons the Duke and Duchess of Angoulême alone persisted in struggling against their ill-fortune.

She was at Bordeaux at the time of the landing. The entrance of Napoleon into Paris, the flight of the King, and the general defection of the army, did not abate her courage. She made the national guard take up arms: she hastened to the barracks, to harangue the soldiers, and remind them of what they owed to their oaths and to their King. Numerous battalions of volunteers were instantly formed, and directed by her orders, to defend the avenues to the city, intercept all communication, and prevent popular commotions.