of government I renounced my rights to the crown only to avert the horrors of a civil war, having never had any other abject in view than the glory and happiness of France.  But, seeing as I now do, the dissatisfaction inspired by the measures of the new Government, I can explain to my Guard the reasons which induced me to revoke my abdication.  It is true that the number of troops on which I can count will scarcely exceed 30,000 men, but it will be easy for me to increase their numbers to 130,000.  Know, then, that I can also, without injuring my honour, say to my Guard, that having nothing but the repose and happiness of the country at heart, I renounce all my rights, and exhort my troops to follow my example, and yield to the wish of the nation.”

I heard these words reported by General Kohler himself, after his return from his mission.  He did not disguise the embarrassment which this unexpected address had occasioned; and I recollect having remarked at the time that had Bonaparte, at the commencement of the campaign of Paris, renounced his rights and returned to the rank of citizen, the immense masses of the Allies must have yielded to the efforts of France.  General Kohler also stated that Napoleon complained of Maria Louisa not being allowed to accompany him; but at length, yielding to the reasons urged by those about him, he added, “Well, I prefer remaining faithful to my promise; but if I have any new ground of complaint, I will free myself from all my engagements.”

At eleven o’clock Comte de Bussy, one of the Emperor’s aides de camp, was sent by the Grand Marshal (General Bertrand) to announce that all was ready for departure.  “Am I;” said Napoleon, “to regulate my actions by the Grand Marshal’s watch?  I will go when I please.  Perhaps I may not go at all.  Leave me!”

All the forms of courtly etiquette which Napoleon loved so much were observed; and when at length he was pleased to leave his cabinet to enter the salon, where the Commissioners were waiting; the doors were thrown open as usual, and “The Emperor” was announced; but no sooner was the word uttered than he turned back again.  However, he soon reappeared, rapidly crossed the gallery, and descended the staircase, and at twelve o’clock precisely he stood at the head of his Guard, as if at a review in the court of the Tuileries in the brilliant days of the Consulate and the Empire.

Then took place a really moving scene—­Napoleon’s farewell to his soldiers.  Of this I may abstain from entering into any details, since they are known everywhere, and by everybody, but I may subjoin the Emperor’s last address to his old companions-in-arms, because it belongs to history.  This address was pronounced in a voice as firm and sonorous as that in which Bonaparte used to harangue his troops in the days of his triumphs.  It was as follows: