During my short visit I lived with my brother in the Chateau, where one general whiled away his sleepless hours by playing the French horn, much to the enjoyment of everybody else!  Our evenings were spent at the theatre, where there was a ballet A corps de ballet at Luneville!  The wily manager had got out of the difficulty by composing a choregraphic scenario called Les Sabotiers, in which the only sign of skill asked of the lady performers was to swing the sabots on their feet in cadenced time.  A great noise they made, which did not, however, prevent the Mayor of Luneville from falling asleep regularly every evening in the municipal box, where he sat enthroned perched on a curule chair as high as that of Thomas Diafoirus.  He even fell off it, during a performance at which I was present, and so noisily that the shock interrupted the evolutions of the ballet; and all the officers of the garrison who filled the stalls, rose with an anxiety which may have been somewhat affected, and would not be reassured until Mr. Mayor had been fished up out of the depths of his box, and replaced upon his perch.  I recollect, too, an ascent of the Donon, one of the peaks of the Vosges, with a charming family of the name of Chevandier, and in the loveliest weather What a view there was!  All Lorraine, all Alsace, with the spires of Strasbourg—­that beautiful country which my forefathers of the old monarchy had made so truly French.  Alas!  Alas!

I went back to my duty.  I sailed from Brest on the 1st of September, under the orders of Admiral Baudin, a man who had a whole career of valiant deeds behind him.  One-armed, tall in stature and energetic in countenance, he straightway inspired respect, and one soon learnt to recognize him as a commander as intelligent as he was resolute, and even impassioned.  His flag was hoisted on the frigate Nereide.  I followed, with a small corvette of which I had been given command, and which I had hastily commissioned.  Except for the torpedo-boats, and such small flotilla craft, I do not believe the whole of our present navy contains such a small vessel as she was She was armed with four thirty-pounders, and sixteen carronades, mere children’s toys, and her crew amounted to 100 men.  But how pretty she was, careening over, level with the water, with her huge spars sloping backwards; and how charmingly she was named--La Creole!  She was my first command, and I was twenty!  We were bound on an expedition which might give us a chance of fighting, and I hoped in my turn to follow the example of my elder brothers, who had so well upheld the honour of our race at Antwerp and in Africa

My emotion on leaving France under such circumstances will be readily understood.  My old aide de-camp Hernoux, and Bruat, escorted me outside the entrance to the port, and returned in the pilot’s boat.  The last link with the soil of the mother-country was broken, Forward then, my boy!