“What is the meaning of this?  Are you then tired of peace?  Must Europe again be deluged with blood?  Preparations for war indeed!  Do you think to overawe us by this?  You shall see that France may be conquered, perhaps destroyed, but never intimidated—­never!”

The English Ambassador was astounded at this unexpected sally, to which he made no reply.  He contented himself with writing to his Government an account of an interview in which the First Consul had so far forgotten himself,-whether purposely or not I do not pretend to say.

That England wished for war there could be no doubt.  She occupied Malta, it is true, but she had promised to give it up, though she never had any intention of doing so.  She was to have evacuated Egypt, yet there she still remained; the Cape of Good Hope was to have been surrendered, but she still retained possession of it.  England had signed, at Amiens, a peace which she had no intention of maintaining.  She knew the hatred of the Cabinets of Europe towards France, and she was sure, by her intrigues and subsidies, of arming them on her side whenever her plans reached maturity.  She saw France powerful and influential in Europe, and she knew the ambitious views of the First Consul, who, indeed, had taken little pains to conceal them.

The First Consul, who had reckoned on a longer duration of the peace of Amiens, found himself at the rupture of the treaty in an embarrassing situation.  The numerous grants of furloughs, the deplorable condition of the cavalry, and the temporary absence of artillery, in consequence of a project for refounding all the field-pieces, caused much anxiety to Bonaparte.  He had recourse to the conscription to fill up the deficiencies of the army; and the project of refounding the artillery was abandoned.  Supplies of money were obtained from the large towns, and Hanover, which was soon after occupied, furnished abundance of good horses for mounting the cavalry.

War had now become inevitable; and as soon as it was declared the First Consul set out to visit Belgium and the seaboard departments to ascertain the best means of resisting the anticipated attacks of the English.  In passing through Compiegne he received a visit from Father Berton, formerly principal of the military school of Brienne.  He was then rector of the school of arts at Compiegne, a situation in which he had been placed by Bonaparte.  I learned the particulars of this visit through Josephine.  Father Berton, whose primitive simplicity of manner was unchanged since the time when he held us under the authority of his ferule, came to invite Bonaparte and Josephine to breakfast with him, which invitation was accepted.  Father Berton had at that time living with him one of our old comrades of Brienne, named Bouquet; but he expressly forbade him to show himself to Bonaparte or any one of his suite, because Bouquet, who had been a commissary at headquarters in Italy, was in disgrace with the First Consul.  Bouquet promised