Thus old customs of royalty crept by degrees into the former abodes of royalty.  Amongst the rights attached to the Crown, and which the Constitution of the year VIII. did not give to the First Consul, was one which he much desired to possess, and which, by the most happy of all usurpations, he arrogated to himself.  This was the right of granting pardon.  Bonaparte felt a real pleasure in saving men under the sentence of the law; and whenever the imperious necessity of his policy, to which, in truth, he sacrificed everything, permitted it, he rejoiced in the exercise of mercy.  It would seem as if he were thankful to the persons to whom he rendered such service merely because he had given them occasion to be thankful to him.  Such was the First Consul:  I do not speak of the Emperor.  Bonaparte, the First Consul, was accessible to the solicitations of friendship in favour of persons placed under proscription.  The following circumstance, which interested me much, affords an incontestable proof of what I state:—­

Whilst we were still at the Luxembourg, M. Defeu, a French emigrant, was taken in the Tyrol with arms in his hand by the troops of the Republic.  He was carried to Grenoble, and thrown into the military prison of that town.  In the course of January General Ferino, then commanding at Grenoble, received orders to put the young emigrant on his trial.  The laws against emigrants taken in arms were terrible, and the judges dared not be indulgent.  To be tried in the morning, condemned in the course of the day, and shot in the evening, was the usual course of those implacable proceedings.  One of my cousins, the daughter of M. Poitrincourt, came from Sens to Paris to inform me of the dreadful situation of M. Defeu.  She told me that he was related to the most respectable families of the town of Sens, and that everybody felt the greatest interest in his fate.

I had escaped for a few moments to keep the appointment I made with Mademoiselle Poitrincourt.  On my return I perceived the First Consul surprised at finding himself alone in the cabinet, which I was not in the habit of quitting without his knowledge.  “Where have you been?” said he.  “I have been to see one of my relations, who solicits a favour of you.”—­“What is it?” I then informed him of the unfortunate situation of M. Defeu.  His first answer was dreadful.  “No pity! no pity for emigrants!  Whoever fights against his country is a child who tries to kill his mother!” This first burst of anger being over, I returned to the charge.  I urged the youth of M. Defeu, and the good effect which clemency would produce.  “Well,” said he, “write—­

   “The First Consul orders the judgment on M. Defeu to be suspended.”

He signed this laconic order, which I instantly despatched to General Ferino.  I acquainted my cousin with what had passed, and remained at ease as to the result of the affair.