Cormier was now in open correspondence with the King, to whom he had proposed the publication of a gazette in the Royalist interest. He was in frequent communication, too, with the Baron de Roll, the Marquis de Nesle, Rivarol, and the Abbé Louis, and all the “monarchical fanatics.” Despite his age, in short, he was becoming more active and enterprising than ever. Too clever not to perceive that he was being specially watched, he was not long in getting the spy into his own service by means of bribes, and making him collaborate in the hoodwinking of the Minister. The report that had got about concerning his actions, however, disquieted the Princes, and at the end of June Cormier is said to have received a letter from the Comte d’Artois forbidding him “to have anything more to say to his affairs,” and reproaching him in very sharp terms. At the same period, Butler, to whose ears the same report had found its way, wrote to rebuke him severely for his indiscretion, and broke off all communication with him. Meanwhile, he was in pecuniary difficulties, and borrowing money from any one who would lend, so altogether his position was becoming critical. Soon he would have to find a refuge elsewhere.
When, in the autumn, Baron d’Auerweck managed to get to Hamburg, he found his old friend in a state of great discouragement, and with but one idea in his head—that of getting back somehow to Paris and living the rest of his days there in obscurity.
The arrival of the “18th Brumaire” and the establishment of the Consulate facilitated, probably, the realization of this desire. There is no record of how he brought his sojourn at Hamburg to an end. D’Auerweck we find offering his services to Reinhard, who formed a high estimate of his talents. His offer, however, was not entertained. At this point the “little Baron” also disappears for a time from our sight.
It is about this period that Cormier and d’Auerweck fall definitively apart, never again to cross each other’s path.
Reassured by the calm that began to reign now in Paris, and by the fact that other émigrés who had returned to the capital were being left unmolested, Cormier made his way back furtively one day to the Rue Basse-du-Rempart, where the Citoyenne Butler still resided. The former president of the Massiac Club returned to his ancient haunts a broken-down old man. Like so many others, he found it difficult to recognize the Paris he now saw, transformed as it was, and turned inside out by the Revolution. Wherever he turned, his ears were met with the sound of one name—Bonaparte, the First Consul. What did it all matter to him? His return had but one object, that of re-establishing his health and letting his prolonged absence sink into oblivion. The continual travelling and his ups and downs in foreign countries had brought him new maladies in addition to his old enemy the gout. He had lost half his fortune, through the pillaging of his estates in San Domingo. Thus, such of his acquaintances as had known him in the old days, seeing him now on his return, sympathized with him in his misfortunes and infirmities.
He seemed warranted, therefore, in counting upon security in Paris. The one thing that threatened him was that unfortunate entry in the list of émigrés, in which his name figured with that of his son. In the hope of getting the names erased, he set out one day early in November, 1800, for the offices of the Prefecture of the Seine. There he took the oath of fidelity to the Constitution. It was a step towards getting the names definitely erased. His long stay in Hamburg was a serious obstacle in the way, but both he and his son looked forward confidently now to the success of their efforts.
Suddenly, on August 21, 1801, a number of police officials made their appearance at Cormier’s abode to arrest him by order of the Minister of Police. His first feeling was one of stupefaction. With what was he charged? Had they got wind of his doings in England? Had some indiscretion betrayed him? He recovered himself, however, and led his visitors into all the various apartments, they taking possession of all the papers discovered, and sealing up the glass door leading into Achille’s bedroom, he being absent at the time. This investigation over, Cormier and the officials proceeded to the Temple, and a few hours later he found himself imprisoned in the Tower.
What thoughts must have passed through his mind as he traversed successively those courts and alleys, and then mounted the steps of the narrow stairway leading to the upper storeys of the dungeon!
In the anguish of his position had he room in his mind for thoughts of those days in London when the name of the grim edifice was so often on his lips?
Three days passed before he could learn any clue as to the cause of his arrest. At last, on August 24, he was ordered to appear before a police magistrate to undergo his trial. An account of this trial, or interrogatoire, is in existence, and most curious it is to note the way in which it was conducted. The warrant for his arrest recorded that he was accused “of conspiracy, and of being in the pay of the foreigner.” These terms suggested that Cormier’s residence in England, or at least in Hamburg, was known to his accusers. Had not the Minister of Police in one of his portfolios a dossier of some importance, full of all kinds of particulars calculated to “do” for him? Strange to relate, there is to be found no allusion to this doubtful past of his in the examination.