Baron Larrey immediately applied to the business, but in a solemn manner; he followed up the most trifling details, and therefore proceeded slowly, whilst various motives rendered many persons impatient to see the issue; and it was known that the Emperor himself was not less impatient. Some persons did not fail to point out to M. Larrey the delicate situation in which he was placed; but he turned a deaf ear to all observations, and remained unmoved. At last, after some days, he went to the Emperor, insisting upon being allowed to deliver his report himself. “Well Sir,” said the Emperor, “Do you still persist in your opinion?”—“More than that, Sire, I am come to prove to your Majesty that I was right; these brave young men were basely calumniated: I have spent a considerable time in the strictest investigation, and I have not found one single man guilty; there is a deposition in writing on the individual case of every one of those wounded men: bales of them follow me; your Majesty may order them to be examined.” The Emperor looked at him with a gloomy expression, and, taking his report with a kind of emotion, he said, “Very well, Sir, I will look into it;” and he paced the room with rapid strides, with an air of agitation and indecision; at last, coming up to Larrey with an open countenance, he shook him cordially by the hand, and said, with emotion: “Farewell, M. Larrey, a sovereign is truly fortunate to have to do with such men as you are; you will receive my orders.” M. Larrey received the same evening from Napoleon his picture set in diamonds, 6000 francs in gold, and a pension on the State of 3000 francs, independent, it was said, of every other reward to which he might be entitled by his rank, his seniority, and his future services. Such traits are invaluable for history; as they exhibit, on the one hand, an honest man who does not hesitate to defend truth against a sovereign prepossessed and incensed; and because they display, on the other, the noble mind of the sovereign in the happiness and the gratitude which he expressed on being undeceived.

THE EMPEROR ACCEPTS MY FOUR THOUSAND LOUIS.—TRAGEDY OF EURIPIDES IN ITS ORIGINAL PURITY ORDERED FOR THE THEATRE AT SAINT-CLOUD.—MARSHAL JOURDAN.

24th.—The Emperor has not been out, he has not sent for any of us, and he has not appeared at dinner. This made us fear that he was ill. After ten o’clock he sent for me, as I was not yet in bed. He told me he had not left his sofa the whole day; he had been reading for nearly eighteen hours. He had only taken a little soup. He had had the tooth-ache. I told him we had feared that it was something more serious, for our grief at not seeing him was always increased by apprehension.

In a short time, he began to touch upon our pecuniary resources. He had, as he humorously expressed it, held his Council in the morning; the plate had been weighed, and the quantity that was to be sold had been computed; the produce of it, he added, would enable us to go on for some time longer. I again renewed the offer of the four thousand Louis which I had in the English funds, and he deigned to accept them. “Mine is a singular situation,” said he; “I have no doubt that if a communication were allowed with me, and my relatives, or even many strangers, could suspect that I am in want, I should soon be amply provided with every thing that I require; but ought I to be a burthen to my friends, and expose them to the undue advantage which the English ministers might take of their good-will? I have applied to those ministers for a few books, and they have sent them to me with all the inattention and neglect of a careless agent. They claim from me fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds sterling, that is, about 50,000 francs, for what I might certainly have procured for less than 12,000. Would it not be the same with every thing else? If I accept what you offer, it must be strictly applied to our immediate wants; for, after all, we must live, and we really cannot live upon what they give us. The small addition of one hundred Louis per month would just be sufficient, and that is the sum which you must ask for, and appropriate as carefully as possible.”

The calash then came up to us; it was driven four-in-hand by Archambaud. This could not be otherwise, since the departure of Archambaud’s brother. The Emperor refused at first to get into the carriage; he did not think it prudent, in the midst of the stumps of trees with which we were surrounded; he remembered his famous fall at Saint-Cloud, and wished one of the English servants to ride as postilion, but Archambaud protested that he should feel less secure in that manner than in driving alone. Since the departure of his brother, he said, he had been constantly practising amongst the trees, in order to be sure that he could answer for himself. The Emperor then got in the calash, and we took two turns. On our return he went to see the residence of the Grand Marshal, with which he was not yet acquainted.

The evening was terminated by reading some passages of Longepierre’s tragedy of Medea, which the Emperor interrupted, to compare it with that of Euripides on the same subject, which he ordered to be brought to him. He mentioned, on the subject, that he had formerly ordered one of the Greek tragedies to be represented at his theatre in the palace, in all its integrity, choosing the best possible translation, and imitating as closely as possible the manners, dresses, forms, and scenery of the original. He could not recollect what circumstance or what obstacle had prevented the execution of the plan.

Having retired to his apartment, and not finding himself disposed to sleep, he took some turns in his room, and threw himself on his sofa. He opened a kind of political almanack which happened to be at hand; and fell upon a list of our Marshals, which he passed in review, adding, at the same time, quotations and anecdotes already known or related. When he came to Marshal Jourdan, he dwelt for some time on the subject, and concluded by saying: “This is one who has been assuredly very ill treated by me; it was, therefore, natural to conclude that he would be highly incensed against me; but I have heard with pleasure that he has behaved with great moderation since my fall. He has set an example of that elevation of mind which serves to distinguish men, and does honour to their character. However, he was a true patriot, and that explains many things.”

SUMMARY OF JULY, AUGUST, SEPTEMBER, AND OCTOBER.—OF MR. O’MEARA’S WORK.—ACTION NOW BROUGHT AGAINST HIM BY SIR HUDSON LOWE.—A FEW WORDS IN DEFENCE OF THIS WORK.

The usual summary cannot henceforth be long; strictly speaking three sentences would suffice to trace it:

Incessant annoyance.