An accident which occurred a few steps from the prison, nearly disconcerted a plan which had been so well conceived, and so far so well executed. At the gate of the temple the commodore, his secretary, the adjutant general, and-his assistant, entered a hack: the driver had been well paid, and ordered to proceed with rapidity. At the moment of starting, not perceiving the stall of a vegetable-merchant, he upset his paniers, and came near wounding a child. A crowd was collected, and already the cry of "to the police" was heard, when the two prisoners, to whom a visit to such functionaries would have been by no means agreeable, opening each one a door, threw themselves out of the coach, and disappeared with the two officers. A car riage, well supplied with horses, waited on the Boulevarts. Smith and Wright left Paris instantly, and set off the same evening for London. THE PRISON OF BAYONNE, DURING THE REIGN OF TERROR. During the reign of terror any thing sufficed for a prison, and almost any body for a prisoner. At Bayonne a chapel had been selected, into which a hundred or a hundred and fifty persons were crowded. But a single piece of the original furniture remained; that was the pulpit; and the jailor, a genuine specimen of the provincial sansculottes, ascended it daily to deliver his prisoners a patriotic address. This jailor was at the bottom a brave man; and he treated his prisoners humanely enough, provided at the end of his harangues they shouted with him-"Long live the republic, one and indivisible !" One day the jailor appeared in the pulpit at an unusual hour. The most profound grief was painted on his countenance; the prisoners, trembling, awaited some of those notifications of death to which they were but too well accustomed. Now for the explanation. The minister of the marine, Pléville le Pley, had been absent some months before on a visit to Lille, for the purpose of conferring with the English envoy, Lord Malmesbury. On leaving Paris he had placed in the hands of his secretary "Citizens," said he, "every thing is destroyed; the some blank signatures for the despatch of business. republic is destroyed: Robespierre is guillotined; SaintOne of these was adroitly stolen by a Dalmatian Just is guillotined; Couthon is guillotined. Every named Wiskowich; and it was on this paper, stamped thing is destroyed: one no longer knows what saint to at the top with the words ministry of the marine, and having the true signature and seal of the minister And in descending he forgot his cry of "Long live the at the bottom, that the order of transfer was writ-republic, one and indivisible !" which but few voices would have repeated after him. ten. The Adjutant General Auger was no other than a third or fourth rate opera dancer named Boisgirard, and his adjutant, an individual of the name of Legrand, a leader of the insurrection of Palluan, of which, however, he had been acquitted by regular trial, though he had reason to fear, at the time, new prosecutions. There was another singular circumstance attending this transaction. The expenses of the escape were paid in advance through the credit given M. de Tromelin; but the compensation to be given in case of success was still to be settled, and the Ottoman Porte was charged with this part of the affair. Spencer Smith, brother to the commodore, was then British ambassador in Turkey: he had enough influence to cause the dancer Boisgirard, Legrand and the rest to be entered nominally in the service of the Porte. Never, certainly, did the audience of the opera or the national academy of music suspect that among the dancers who figured before them for 1,200 francs a year, there was to be found a colonel in the service of the Sublime Porte, enjoying a monthly allowance of 900 francs. The morning after the escape, the keeper of the temple mentioned in his daily report the transfer of the two prisoners, in virtue of the order of the minister, founded on the decree of the directory. Such transfers were effected every day, and the officer, whose duty it was to receive the reports of the prisons, paid no more attention to that than to the rest; and it was not until the expiration of ten days that the police was informed. The accomplices of the escape were all known, but they were scarcely troubled. The keeper, named Boniface, (and never was a name better suited to the person who bore it) had been deprived of his office, when on the 3d Nirose he was transported. worship." THE FIRST CONSUL, A JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. Napoleon, while first consul and emperor, consecrated almost every day, when at Paris, an hour or two after dinner to familiar conversations, to which but few were admitted. The second consul, or the arch-chancellor, the minister, secretary of state, generals of the first rank, two or three aids-de-camp, and those of the council of state, who enjoyed, in an eminent degree, the favor of the supreme chief, were of the number. These conversations were prolonged or shortened as the first consul had slept more or less the preceding night, or in proportion to the fatigue he had undergone in the course of the day: they were sad or gay as the news of the morning was bad or good. Sometimes the conversation naturally terminated when Napoleon, stretched on a sofa, fell asleep. One evening the first consul (he was still so at this period) showed himself more than usually communicative. He spoke alone-he spoke eloquently. He was listened to with as much pleasure as interest. Almost every subject had been reviewed; at last the word ambition was pronounced. "I am supposed to be ambitious," said he. "Ambitious! and of what? I ambitious! Listen, gentlemen, attentively to what I am going to say; I authorize you to repeat it. In three years I will retire from publie affairs. I will then have an annual income of fifty thousand livres; with my tastes that will be more than enough. I will have a country seat, because Madame Bonaparte loves the country. I mean to ask only one thing; I shall have well merited it, and I must absolutely VOL. III.-32 have it. I desire to be justice of the peace in my can- | the last conspiracy of Georges, in 1804, and perished ton. Am I ambitious?" with him. Lahaye St. Hilaire was also engaged in the The first consul spoke thus in the commencement of conspiracy of 1804, and again escaped. We find him 1802. THE AUTHORS OF THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 3 NIVOSE-24 DECEMBER, 1800. I shall say nothing of the event of the 3d of Nivose itself. The mysteries of that fearful conspiracy have been sufficiently explained by the trial of two of its authors. I intend to confine myself to a few details, either little divulged or entirely unknown. in Brittainy in 1806, carrying off the bishop of Vannes, whom he refused to exchange except for two of his men then in prison. He was finally taken in a struggle which cost the life of an officer of gendarmerie, and underwent his sentence in 1807. Picot de Limoëlan, who censured the employment of tinder, observing, "I would have set fire to it with a match, and have remained standing where I was," did not reappear at the head quarters of Georges. He embarked as a sailor at St. Malo: afterwards, retiring into a holy asylum, he became a priest. A letter from him, addressed to his sister, was seized. Fearing lest it should be stopped by English cruizers, he wrote above the direction: "Englishmen, permit this letter to pass; il is from a man who has done and suffered much for your cause." The affair of the 3d of Nivose occurred at a moment when the reaction against the Jacobins was at its height, a month after the foolish attempt of Démerville, Aréna, Céracchi, Diana, and Topino Lebrun. The Jacobins were accordingly the first to be suspected. The first An agent of exchanges at Paris, M. Nolin, while traconsul adopted this opinion warmly. It was for a mo-velling, was mistaken for Limoëlan, and arrested at ment believed that Fouché would be disgraced, as he Montpellier. During his short captivity he was the was accused of protecting the Jacobins, and had denounced the Chouans as the real authors of the crime. The most violent measures were proposed in the council of state. A list of those to be proscribed was prepared in such haste, that the name of a man who had been dead six months, and of another who had been four years absent from France, figured on it. Nothing less than the physical proofs which Fouché submitted to the first consul could overcome his prejudices; and although the authors of the crime were af terwards known, the Jacobins were nevertheless proscribed; the proscription was only less numerous. Forty Jacobins were transported to the Sechelles isles for a crime committed by Chouans. Georges, in the different examinations to which he was subjected after his arrest in 1804, declared that he had sent some officers of his staff to Paris to assassinate the first consul. But, he added, that he blamed the method which had been chosen, that by explosion, as it endangered the lives of the innocent. The authors of the infernal machine were Picot de Limoëlan, St. Réjand, Lahaye St. Hilaire, Joyaux and Carbon: the last was a sort of servant charged only with the duty of obtaining the necessary articles for the execution of the conspiracy. Picot de Limoëlan, major general of Georges, was the important man in the affair, and commanded in Georges' name: St. Réjand, an old naval officer, was the person who set fire to the machine with a sort of tinder. In his report to Georges, which he feared would be seized by the police, he spoke of the act as a matter of hearsay, and of the principal author of the crime as a malefactor. "The malefactor," said he, "has declared to a pious person that he prayed at the moment of setting fire to the tinder. In this prayer he asked of God to avert the blow, if the life of Napoleon would be useful to the human family." Lahaye St. Hilaire and Joyaux were officers of Georges, sent to aid in the execution of the conspiracy. Carbon and St. Réjend were condemned to death, and executed the 20th of April, 1801. Joyaux, Lahaye St. Hilaire and Picot de Limoëlan escaped in the confusion of the first moment. Joyaux was concerned in object of the most anxious care of the faithful in that royalist city. M. Nolin affected to laugh at the matter, and to let things take their own course. The keeper of the prison was bribed. M. Nolin was allowed to escape, and was carried to a community of religious people, where he was honored as a saint. Every thing necessary to effect his escape and flight into a foreign country was placed at his disposal; and his courage in refusing to leave his prison was greatly admired. The order for his discharge could scarcely put an end to the illusion. THE HORSE-SHOE. At the moment of the explosion of the infernal machine, Fouché and M. Real were entering the opera, where the oratorio of Saul was to be performed. Informed a few minutes afterwards of the details of the event, they left their wives and went out on foot for the purpose of going, each a different way, to the place of the explosion, having previously agreed to meet in the course of the evening at the hotel of the minister of police. The rue St. Nicaise and the surrounding streets were already filled with agents of the police: the crowd of anxious spectators were driven by the troops back into the rue St. Honoré and to the side of the Carrousel. The street St. Nicaise was filled with ruins. In the centre lay the remains of a horse, whose limbs had been so violently torn asunder and scattered, that only a single leg could be recognized. Will it be believed that this deformed fragment of the horse was the means of leading to the discovery of the truth? M. Real immediately observed a shoe which seemed to have been lately put on, still attached to the hoof. He instantly comprehended its importance, as a means of leading to the discovery of the authors of the crime, and caused a sentinel to be placed near that it might be carefully guarded. The next morning the fragments of the cart and the remains of the horse were carried to the prefecture of police, and all the blacksmiths as well as the cartwrights of the capitol were invited to examine them. A smith | moment received the news of some victory, which it is recognized the shoe as having been made at his forge, celebrating by salutes of artillery. It must be anand gave the description of the individual who had nounced to the public; it will produce a good effect." brought the horse to him, about five feet one inch in The manager threw some difficulties in the way, which height, with a scar above the left eye. It was the de- M. Armand d'Ailly victoriously combatted. At length scription of Carbon. the curtain is drawn up, the actor advances, makes the three customary bows, and says: "Gentlemen, we hasten to make known to the public, that the government has this instant received the news of a victory of the French army. This victory, the consequences of which are incalculable, is announced at this moment to M. DE BOURMONT DURING THE EVENING OF THE THIRD NIVOSE. Fouché and M. Real, after minutely examining the place, and the fragments which the explosion had left, and giving the necessary orders for guarding them, repaired, as had been agreed, to the hotel of the police. They had been there but a few moments, when M. de Bourmont was announced. M. Real went out to receive him. M. de Bourmont came to offer to the minister of police to arm, against the Jacobins, three hundred Chouans, then concealed at Paris, and under his orders. M. Real did not believe, any more than Fouché, that the Jacobins were guilty of the attempted assassination. The course of M. de Bourmont appeared to them suspicious, and an order was given for his arrest, which was executed at once. When the first consul heard of this incident he exhibited an ill humor that could only have resulted from the opinion to which he tenaciously adhered, that the Jacobins had co-operated in the crime which had threat ened his life. He ordered M. de Bourmont to be set free; and when, afterwards, the true authors of the attempt were known, the extraordinary proceeding of this Mendian chief, an explanation of which it was so advisable to have sought, was already forgotten. Is it not, in fact, reasonable to suppose that M. de Bourmont was in the secret of the conspiracy, and that his proposition to the minister was made with no other view than to turn aside suspicion, and to protect the flight of those who were really guilty, by misleading the police? Yet notwithstanding his deception in this instance, Napoleon's prejudices on some points were so strong, that, a long time afterwards, he thanked M. de Bourmont for the good intentions he had exhibited towards him. It is perhaps to the proposition of the third Nivose, in itself so unjustifiable, that M. de Bourmont owed the advancement which he obtained in the army, and the possibility of desertion on the evening preceding the battle of Waterloo. In a great many instances one may observe in the emperor this singular predilection for the royalists, and, generally, for every thing connected with the aristo cracy. M. ARMAND D'AILLY. M. Armand d'Ailly, who is, I believe, still on the French stage, had made a successful debut in his dramatic career in 1800. At the period of the attempted assassination of the third Nivose, he was employed as a comedian at the theatre des Troubadours. M. Armand d'Ailly happened to be finishing a part, when the explosion in the rue St. Nicaise was heard. As soon as he had got behind the scenes, he took the manager aside and said: "There has just been a discharge of cannon. Doubtless the government has this the population of the capital by the cannon of the In valides." Three days afterwards M. Armand d'Ailly was arrested. Closely confined in the prison of the Force, he had the greatest difficulty in proving that he was not connected with the conspiracy of the infernal machine. DISCOVERY OF THE CONSPIRACY OF GEORGES. Much has been written about the conspiracy of Georges; the examinations of the numerous persons who were arraigned and who figured with him on the benches of the criminal tribunal of the Seine, have been published in many volumes; every thing seems to have been said about this affair. One thing, however, has been omitted, the recital of the circumstances which led to the discovery of the royalist plot of 1804. On this subject there are two different versions; for the one which I have traced to the most authentic sources I will name my authorities; the other was communicated to me by the most agreeable talker I ever knew, by Charles Nodier. I was in possession of the version, which I may call the original one, when Charles Nodier related to me his, which was so well arranged and so naturally constructed, that I, finding myself so much delighted with the acquaintance of Charles Nodier, could not hesitate to give it credit. Nodier spoke to me, however, de visu; but this worthy individual has seen so many things during his long life, that he is excusable for not having seen them all equally well. The circumstances which led to the discovery of Georges' conspiracy, are not known, and for this reason the police were taken by surprise, and the police is not fond of exhibiting its blunders; they had some indistinct idea of a scheme for a debarkation on the steep coast of Dieppe, but were ignorant of the moment selected; they commenced watching the coast with great precaution when these debarkations was already effected, and the conspirators were concealed at Paris. The first consul was at the Tuileries conversing with many councillors of state, when General Murat, commander of Paris, was announced; he came to submit to Bonaparte a letter, in which a person who had been condemned to death and was then about to be executed, asked leave to make some disclosures. The first consul read the letter, and said, after a moment's reflection: "This is some poor devil who wishes to gain an hour of life; hope, then, is the last sentiment that remains! What he has to say is probably not worth the trouble of putting oneself out of the way; no matter, let us have been condemned; nevertheless, I was believed to be guilty; I defended myself badly; my position was too false a one; for though innocent on one point, I have not the less deserved death; I am guilty on another; I conspired with Georges; I assisted in the debarkation of his accomplices on the coast near Dieppe; I came to Paris with them; they are all concealed here." The attention of M. Real, intensely excited, increased with every word; he pressed the wretched culprit with hear what it is. Real, will you go and speak with | I repeat, perfectly innocent of the crime for which I him? But no reprieve, do you hear, I will have none." The emperor used the right of pardon which the constitution conferred on him, very sparingly, and he declared that he had occasion to repent of every instance in which he applied it. In political matters he preferred not to prosecute at all. Many little conspiracies— many projects of assassination directed against them, were discovered by the police, with which the tribunals were never troubled. They found out the originators and the accomplices in each conspiracy, and after keep-repeated questions; his answers were simple, precise, ing them a few months in prison, set them at liberty. Such a system is perhaps not very rigorously conformable to our principles of liberty; is it less excellent on that account? In compliance with the first consul's request, M. Real repaired to the Abbaye. The armed force destined to accompany the prisoners to the place of execution, was already ranged around the square, keeping back the crowd of curious spectators. The prisoner had been placed in a lower room of the prison, lighted by a small window looking on the square, and guarded by thick bars. From this place he could observe the preliminary preparations for his punishment; one of the gendarmes, having dismounted, had fastened the bridle of his horse to a bar of the window. The return of the order despatched to the commandant at Paris, was the only thing they now awaited. M. Real entered, made himself known, and was immediately introduced into the chamber of the prisoner, whom he found, pale, alarmed, and scarcely able to speak a word. "You have," he said, "announced your intention to make some disclosures; 1 come to hear what they are." “Ah! yes, it is true, I have many things to say; but see, every thing is finished; of what advantage will it be for me to speak?" And with a gesture of despair the wretched man pointed to the frightful exhibition so inhumanly placed under his eyes. M. Real was struck with horror; his interest was excited, and beckoning to the jailor he said a few words to him in a short and severe tone, and the prisoner was instantly transferred to another apartment. He then strove to reassure him, had some refreshments brought, and observing that he had become calmer, again invited him to explain himself. "I have no power to promise your pardon; it must come from a higher source; if, indeed, that which you have to disclose is of great importance, perhaps__" "Will it be possible, sir? But no, the hour of my death has sounded; they only wait your departure to carry me out. No matter-I will have a more quiet conscience, and if I must die I will at least have done one good action." "Speak; all hope is not yet lost." "Yes, sir, I will speak; but believe me, the interest of the first consul requires that you should confide in the words of a dying man. I am condemned to death; I have been dragged before a military commission; they have interrogated me; they have confronted me with witnesses; they have tried and condemned me, and, in truth, I am still ignorant of what I am accused! You doubt, sir; I see it; it is so; is it not? it is what all say who are condemned; but, one moment. I am, consistent; in a short time no doubt remained in his mind. An order was forthwith despatched to close the barriers, and to institute the most rigorous surveillance over the departure of travellers; M. Real ordered the commander of the armed force to await additional instructions, leapt into his carriage and drove in the greatest haste to the Tuileries. On his arrival the first consul said: "Well! it was some silliness. The unfortunate culprit is despatched, is he not ?" "No." "How! no?" "I have learnt strange things; Georges and his band are in Paris." "Ridiculous!" "No, it is but too serious." "Indeed." Here M. Real observed a movement, which the first consul was accustomed to make by turning half round, a gesture entirely Italian, a sort of sign of the cross. "Let us hear what it is." "The police has been entirely misled; I hold the clue to the whole affair.” And he detailed what he had just learnt. "The devil! is it serious! and do you believe the man?" "It is impossible not to believe him." "You have not suffered him to be executed." “Ńo, undoubtedly; I took upon myself to order the executioner to wait your instructions." "You have done well." "An order of reprieve must be despatched." The order is immediately prepared, signed, and despatched. "Now, Real, we must take measures to prevent their escaping us." "I have already ordered the barriers to be closed, and that all persons should be rigorously examined who desire to go out or enter the city. The whole band will be soon notified; seeing the execution suspended their suspicions will be naturally excited; I go to prepare every thing that remains to be done. But, general, you have a review for to-morrow; there are seventy desperate men in the city, perhaps others yet unknown to us; every means of quitting Paris is denied them; they can have no safety but in your death; these men are in the midst of us; a pistol is easily fired; a blow from a dagger is easily given; you must countermand the review." "No, no, every one to his trade; yours is to watch over me, to preserve me from every danger; it is mine to review the troops. I will review them to-morrow." "It is imprudent, but I will neglect nothing." M. Real returned home, had the prisoner of the Abbaye brought to him, and while completing the examination already commenced, despatched his orders for the next morning. The houses which face the Carrousel, in front of the chateau, were, at that period almost exclusively occupied by women of the town; already, on the 3d Nevose, the propriety of dislodging them had been agitated. During the night, all these ladies received an invitation to pass the next day in some other place. Never, however, did a review draw more spectators; all the windows looking to the Carrousel were filled with gendarmes, in citizen's dresses; the avenues were guarded with admirable care; but in spite of all these precautions, M. Real, who, from the balcony of the Tuileries, followed with a spying-glass every movement of the first consul, felt an indescribable oppression of the heart, which was only relieved when Bonaparte alighted from his horse, and ascended the steps of the chateau. The individual who rendered this great service called himself Querelle; he was a country surgeon. He had in fact been condemned by mistake. His pardon was promised and he obtained it, but at what a price! He had come from the coast of Dieppe to Paris, with Georges and others, travelling by night, passing the days in cellars of farm houses into which his companions and himself were received by devoted accomplices. Querelle was compelled to recommence this voyage by night also, and under the escort of the police; he had to recognize by evidences almost imperceptible the places in which they had stopped. The police seized every suspected person and brought all to Paris. Querelle recognized one form by the peculiar character of the bark of a dog. I ought, perhaps here, to insert the poetical and picturesque version of Charles Nodier, but mine would lose too much; it has nothing to recommend it but its truth. DEATH OF AN OLD INDIAN. Mors omnia secat. I On the wild strand of Florida, methought, Last of his race, a stalwart Indian stood; Like some lone oak which time had left unsmote, Surviving all its brethren of the wood! The Sun was sinking on the burnish'd flood, And mildly on the old man's visage shoneWhich many a trace of thought and feeling showed Of harassing care, and griefs familiar grown On him the storms of life seemed rudely to have blown! II His aspect had been stern'; but time had given |