The time was passed when Bonaparte, just raised to the Consulate, only proceeded to the Temple to release the victims of the “Loi des suspects” by his sole and immediate authority.  This state prison was now to be filled by the orders of his police.  All the intrigues of Europe were in motion.  Emissaries came daily from England, who, if they could not penetrate into the interior of France, remained in the towns near the frontiers, where they established correspondence, and published pamphlets, which they sent to Paris by post, in the form of letters.

The First Consul, on the other hand, gave way, without reserve, to the natural irritation which that power had excited by her declaration of war.  He knew that the most effective war he could carry on against England would be a war against her trade.

As a prelude to that piece of madness, known by the name of the Continental system, the First Consul adopted every possible preventive measure against the introduction of English merchandise.  Bonaparte’s irritation against the English was not without a cause.  The intelligence which reached Paris from the north of France was not very consolatory.  The English fleets not only blockaded the French ports, but were acting on the offensive, and had bombarded Granville.  The mayor of the town did his duty, but his colleagues, more prudent, acted differently.  In the height of his displeasure Bonaparte issued a decree, by which he bestowed a scarf of honour on Letourneur, the mayor, and dismissed his colleagues from office as cowards unworthy of trust.  The terms of this decree were rather severe, but they were certainly justified by the conduct of those who had abandoned their posts at s critical moment.

I come now to the subject of the invasion of England, and what the First Consul said to me respecting it.  I have stated that Bonaparte never had any idea of realising the pretended project of a descent on England.  The truth of this assertion will appear from a conversation which I had with him after he returned from his journey to the north.  In this conversation he repeated what he had often before mentioned to me in reference to the projects and possible steps to which fortune might compel him to resort.

The peace of Amiens had been broken about seven months when, on the 15th of December 1803, the First Consul sent for me to the Tuileries.  His incomprehensible behaviour to me was fresh in my mind; and as it was upwards of a year since I had seen him, I confess I did not feel quite at ease when I received the summons.  He was perfectly aware that I possessed documents and data for writing his history which would describe facts correctly, and destroy the illusions with which his flatterers constantly, entertained the public.  I have already stated that at that period I had no intention of the kind; but those who laboured constantly to incense him against me might have suggested apprehensions