Aubin, of Pontaudemer, and of all the neighbouring townships to Trouville. On our approach, they ranged themselves on the quay of Quillebœuf, and repeated on a small scale the solemnity of Havre. On the other side, the inhabitants of Lillebonne, notwithstanding the distance, crowded the banks of the Seine. These fine fellows even walked into the water, in order to have a nearer view of the procession. Whilst the imperial flotilla ascended the Seine, another flotilla of smaller steamboats descended it on the 6th, 7th, and 8th. The body was again to be transhipped. There were the three Dorades, the four Elorles, the Parisienne, the Zampa, and the Montereau. The Dorades were destined to tow or transport the body from the Val de la Пaye to Courbevoie, towing the boat which bore the catafalque. As a description of this monumental boat, if I may so call it, was already given in the English paper The Times, I need not, my Tom, go over that ground again.

dear

We impatiently awaited this boat at the Val de la Haye; but its size and form, as well as the fogs which prevailed on the Seine, retarded its arrival. At length, at one o'clock on the 9th, the firing of two guns announced its arrival.

There had been a species of rivalry between the nine steamers of the Seine, in order to obtain the honour of transporting the ashes of Napoleon. The Prince declared that he would visit them all, with his officers, and would give the preference to the most worthy. His choice confirmed that of the government. He decided in favour of the Dorade, No. 3, and addressed the most flattering speeches to Capt. Garay, an old naval officer, as captain of this boat. He also thanked the architect, M. Garnier, for the trouble he had taken to decorate the boat; but intimated that the draperies and garlands were superfluous. In ten minutes, thanks to our axes, these pompous decorations, the work of so many hours, were demolished, and flung away. The Prince determined to paint the boat black. The imperial flag floated from the mast-head. In the front of the deck reposed the bier, covered with the funeral pall brought from St. Helena. The members of the

mission placed themselves at the four corners. At the head of the bier was the cross, the altar, and the priest; behind stood the staff and the ship's crew under arms. I was the twenty-third man called out to assist in the transhipment! The Dorade, No. 3, was moored alongside La Normandie. Notwithstanding the difference of level, we raised, as though it were a feather, the imperial coffin, and descended it without accident to its new resting-place.

La Normandie obtained permission still to wear her mourning attire. The place occupied by the bier is to be henceforth railed off, and an inscription affixed to the effect that the remains of Napoleon reposed there during thirty hours. Before quitting the Val de la Haye, our Prince made a handsome present to a national guardsman, who had been seriously wounded by the recoil of a piece of artillery.

At nine on the next morning, the flotilla proceeded in the midst of an immense concourse of people on either side of the banks of the Seine. La Parisienne was the foremost boat. A word on her freight. Three persons were aboard this steamer, bearing the titles of inspectors of navigation; their names were Damonlie, Duchesse, and Dunaine. We saw them arrive the evening before, covered with gold lace,—

"Pride in their port, defiance in their eye."

Every one took off his hat as they passed. Who, think you, were these fellows? Old employés of the police. Par le diable! I ask you what the deuce the police had to do with this affair, invading our decks, and thrusting their odious presence on us? Our officers displayed towards them the most unequivocal contempt, and they ultimately paid dearly for their triumphal entry.

La Parisienne was followed by the Zampa, carrying the band of the prince; then came Dorade, No. 3, Capt. Garay, with the Prince, the body, and the first company of the Belle Poule, serving as a guard of honour, of which I formed part; next l'Elorle, No. 3, with the royal commissary generals Bertrand and Gourgaud and the household of the emperor. The other boats followed in

succession. The weather was fine, but cold and hazy. At Rouen, for more than a week, every one was busy night and day in preparatives for the solemnity. On our arrival, the central opening of the iron bridge, decorated as a triumphal arch, presented the most imposing aspect. More than 20,000 metres of velvet drapery had been used in the different decorations. Here, in this town, were no scandalous and mal-adroit preferences shewn. Every thing was accorded to justice and merit; nothing to favour. The bridge and its approaches had been specially reserved for the old officers, soldiers, and legionaries of the empire. Amidst the glorious débris of this great epoch was seen General Stabenalt, who commanded at Rouen in 1810, and who in 1815 protected the town against the Prussian troops. We saw here a prince of the church, the cardinal archbishop, who came to give the Christian benediction to the remains of one who had again opened the temples erected to the living God.

As we passed under the bridge crowned with the veterans of the grande armée, we saw the tears run from the eyes of these brave fellows. Many of them were in a kneeling posture. They wished to cry "Vive Empereur!" but they could not. Their emotion-their sobs, choked their utterance. At length, by a spontaneous movement, covering with tears and kisses the everlasting flowers which they held in their hands, they rained them down in showers on the imperial boat, which was in an instant strewed over with them. Nor was the enthusiasm of the villages less touching. The people crowded the banks of the river; streamers floated from every house; patriot priests, and soldiers, and citizens, mingled together in one common accord. No national hero was ever so universally mourned. It was still daylight when our flotilla reached the quay of Elbeuf. Here again there was another triumphant reception. In this vast workshop the manufacturers deserted their work, and with trembling hands pointed

Paris, had directed us to take four days in passing from Val de la Haye to Courbevoie. We did not murmur, but after a long voyage we could have dispensed with this ministerial order. Our officers and all aboard led a jovial life enough, but it must not be concluded that we had not our troubles too. Steamers which only ply during the day have not the indispensable requisites necessary for travelling by night. We all slept in pell-mell fashion and as we best could; some with, some without mattresses. As to us sailors, we were penned like a flock of sheep in the after-cabin. If, during the night, you talked with a friend a little and descended then to your berth, ten to one if you did not tread on the hand or ear of a messmate, and then it was that a piercing cry first revealed to you the mischief you had done. The cold, however, was our greatest enemy. You, doubtless, well remember, Tom, the rigours of the month of December. Well, during our pass age up the Seine in that month we were without fire of any kind. There was an attempt to introduce stoves, but it was soon given up. It was necessary to choose between cold and asphyxia, and we preferred the former. Nevertheless, no complaints were uttered, and we had notable compensations. The brave Captain Garay had provisioned his ship in the most accomplished fashion. The sailors of the Belle Poule will not soon forget the dinner-talk of the Dorade, No. 3. We lived on fowls, and drank claret of the first quality. On the 11th we continued our route, gliding through a number of villages, some remarkable by their picturesque site, others by the antiquities and ruins which they displayed.

On the heights of St. Pierre d'Anttels we perceived a red speck. Curios ity induced us to approach nearer. It was a lancer of the Imperial Guard. who had started before break of day to present his last homage to the ashes of his general. As we ap

proached, we could see the tears start into his eyes. He straightened his limbs bent with wounds, drew forth his old sabre, and gave the military salute. At this moment we

peror!" As we proceeded on our route we could still perceive him in the same position, au port d'arms, his feet immersed in the river, on whose margin he had at first stood.

On Saturday the 12th, as we were starting from Vernon, the Zampa was not to be seen. At the moment when our uneasiness was at its height we perceived the missing boat coming towards us, all steam up. We weighed anchor instantly, and after having passed several small towns arrived at delicious little Mantes, whose houses seem to grow out of the Seine. The civil and military authorities did us all the honours. It was not so at Meulan. The people were there as numerous as elsewhere, but the clergy and the national guard were missing, from some mistake as to the hour at which we were to pass. When we stopped at Poissy for the night, the Duke d'Aumale arrived to meet his brother. On the next day, Sunday, our almoner celebrated mass for the last time near the body of the emperor. We all assisted at these last solemn prayers.

In my opinion, which is certainly not worth much, the Duke d'Aumale is not half so fine a fellow as his brother, our captain. Apart from the affection of a sailor, the Prince de Joinville is a tip-top fellow. Not one of his brothers can, or ought to be compared with him. I have seen the Duke of Orleans and also the Duke of Némours, but I would give the whole family, "lock, stock, and barrel," for the little finger of my gallant captain.

After mass we were again en route. In the Zampa they sang the Chant du Départ and the Marseillaise.

We passed the night at Maisons, where Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, Charles X., Napoleon, and Marshal Lannes, successively dwelt. It is now the property of Jacques Laffite.

We were told a deputation from both Chambers was to meet us here. There came neither peers nor deputies. But then it was so cold-so freezing cold. In the evening the Duke of Orleans arrived, and also the sons of General Bertrand. the 14th we weighed anchor betimes. This was our last station.

On

The bridge of Pecq was decorated with inscriptions and tricolor flags. The vast mass of people assembled cried, "Vive l'Empereur!" "Vice le

"Vivent les

Prince de Joinville!" Marins de St. Hélène !" We gracefully acknowledged these electrifying manifestations of enthusiasm.

Elegant and fashionably dressed women now also appeared in crowds. From St. German to Courbevoie, our passage was a triumphal march. We rapidly passed Marly and Bougival, and soon arrived in sight of Malmaison. Here was another souvenir of the heroes. It was the dwellingplace of the good Josephine; it was here the emperor slept for the last time before he left for Rochefort, whence he went to die at St. Helena. The windows of the imperial residence were filled with ladies in deep mourning. At length we arrived at St. Denis. Here a new solemnity, a sort of prologue to that of Paris, was to take place. The national guards of all the surrounding communes had mustered in full force. The line extended farther than the eye could reach. On the other side of the bridge the troops of the line were under arms. The clergy of the town were headed by M. Rey, formerly Bishop of Dijon, and a vast multitude of Parisians had also come out to join us. On the approach of the procession there was manifested the same religious respect that I have so often described. The demoiselles de la Légion d'Honneur, that useful and brilliant creation of the emperor, were all in deep mourning in a tribune reserved for them. As we proceeded along, a group of ladies had fixed the attention of the flotilla. They waved their handkerchiefs as a sort of signal to us. At this moment the Prince came on deck by chance. In the twinkling of an eye the words "My mother!" escaped him; then correcting himself, he said, "Gentlemen, it is the queen." The cry of "Vive la Reine!" now resounded throughout our little squadron. In passing the château of St. Ouen, we perceived it was completely shut up. As the flotilla passed under the bridge of Asnieres a pigeon alighted on the deck. It bore under its wing a letter by the queen, addressed to the Prince,

We found at Clichy, in the midst of the assembled authorities of the national guard, a débris of the imperial glory. It was General Rognet, colonel of the grenadiers of the guard, who wished, notwithstanding his infirmities, again to salute the

emperor, whom he had followed when living, and mourned in death. We were soon in sight of the bridge of Courbevoie. To the right of the landing-place there had been raised a funeral temple destined to receive the bier.

I read in the journals, and I am told it was also published in The Times, that Marshal Soult, Admiral Duperré, and M. Duchatel, came and passed the night by the bier. These are mere drolleries of the newspapers. These three gentlemen came, it is true, but they remained only long enough aboard to eat a biscuit and to drink a glass of madeira. I am in error: they drank two glasses of madeira and ate four biscuits. In this consisted their homage.

Mean

At length the morning dawned on which the funeral procession of the emperor was to make its entry into the capital. Late on the preceding evening, the 14th, the national guard had occupied the bridge of Neuilly with a view to preserve order and to keep off the crowd. All the sailors of the Belle Poule and of La Favorite landed. We were directed to carry the body to the temple which had been prepared for it. while the imperial car advanced towards the bridge with its twelve colossal statues, its shields, draperies, bees, eagles, laurels, &c. After the religious ceremony which took place in the temple, we raised the body on our shoulders, and in the midst of solemn silence laid it in the funeral car. Then commenced, midst the sound of all the church-bells of Paris and the great bell of Notre Dame, that wonderful procession of which Paris had never seen the like before. These prodigious funeral ovations have been already described by abler pens than mine. It was accomplished in the midst of a million of spectators. It was worthy of the illustrious dead.That is all that need be said of it. The crew of the Belle Poule surrounded the car. We had orders not to quit the body till the last moment. At two o'clock we arrived before the gate of the Invalides, which Was hung all over with mourning

cloth. For the last time we bore the bier on our shoulders, and laid it under the dome. Our mission was now terminated. Thenceforth Napoleon slept in the midst of his brave soldiers, on a bed of flags conquered from the enemy.

On the 26th we were received by the king and the queen. The king addressed us very graciously, and decorated with his own hand M. l'Abbé Félix Coquereau, our worthy and handsome almoner. Many of our officers received promotion, and each of us a gold medal, which will be an heir-loom in our families. What shall I say more? That we were happy, that we were feasted by all Paris, and that our prince treated us as children. It is now time that I should lay down my pen. A word by the way, however. Whilst the emperor entered Paris triumphantly his nephew lay imprisoned in the fortress of Ham. Whilst General Bertrand placed on the bier the sword of Napoleon, another of his companions of exile-and the most cherished, perhaps — Montholon General Montholon - was in irons. Is not this a contradiction and a bitter mockery? If the voice of a poor man can reach the throne the king will hear my cry - Pardon and amnesty.

And now, good reader, adieu! It is a hard thing for a sailor to wield the pen for so long a time; and, to speak the truth, quill-driving don't please me at all. I would rathermuch rather-splice ropes. Farewell worthy friend Tom. Though now decorated, I am not a whit prouder, and I offer you in conclusion a cordial shake of the hand.

LE HÉROU.* Maintopman aboard the Belle Poule.

P.S. I ought to say that I have a remorse of conscience. I have a little maltreated two young fellows who have never done me harm, and I make them willing reparation. The Abbé Coquereau then has no calves; and M. Rohan Chabot is not a beardless boy, but a serious diplomatist, abounding in merit and discretion.

Ir was late in the evening of an October day that the mayor, the aldermen, and common councillors of Coketown, preceded by the towncrier, the macers, and other officers of state, descended the steps of the townhall, neither robed nor chained, we are forced to acknowledge, because robes and chains they had none; but looking as dignified as men can look in their ordinary apparel, and marshalled for a solemn procession. Throughout three long hours they had retained their stations within that venerable edifice, sorely lamenting that the dinner, which had been ordered at four, would certainly be spoiled at six. Repeatedly had messengers and scouts been sent forth to ascertain whether or not the London road were empty; and as each came back with the announcement that there was no carriage as yet visible, the countenances of the civic body fell, and their hearts died within them. Let it not be supposed, however, that the trepidation of these excellent magistrates was occasioned wholly by the natural regard which they had for their dinner.

It is a

serious matter, doubtless, to contemplate the expression of all flavour from a fresh salmon through excess of boiling, and the reduction of a haunch of five-year old mutton to absolute rags and tatters by the inju. dicious application of fire. But the magistrates of Coketown had that day other grounds of uneasiness than these. It had been remarked by several of their body,-by the mayor in particular, whose timidity was proverbial, that large bodies of strange men were sauntering about the streets. The mayor's messengers, moreover, while reporting unfavourably of the non-appearance of the expected carriage, had brought back word of one or two groups as occupying certain little eminences outside of the town. And now, as the day advanced, more than the mayor expressed an opinion that

there was surely some mischief brewing. The town was full of strangers. Orderly they were, and quiet; for their very conversation was all carried on in a suppressed whisper; but their numbers seemed to be incalculable, and each successive minute contributed to swell them. No wonder, then, that the civic authorities looked grave. Reformers as they were, they do not seem, under any circumstances, to have counted much on the good citizenship of the masses, whose political privileges reform was to enlarge; and just at this moment the congregation of these masses was felt to be exceedingly inconvenient.

"What are your friends up to tonight?" demanded Mr. Bull, as he ranged himself behind the chief magistrate.

66

"Don't call them my friends, Mr. Bull," was the reply. They're that scoundrel Beaver's friends; and I'm much deceived if we don't have mischief soon,-for there he comes himself."

Mr. Bull looked in the direction indicated by the mayor, and saw sure enough, the arch-demagogue. He was in the act of sending off halfa-dozen aides-de-camp towards different points, and the purposes for which they obeyed his behest soon became apparent. The crowd, which had hitherto wandered up and down, began to collect into a compact body, and ranks were formed with as much regularity as if an army had been effecting its formations.