his house every day. When I went to him that day I was told he had
started. However I went up, and remained some time in his hotel with
several of his friends who had met there. We soon saw him return, and
for my part I heard with satisfaction that they had not allowed him to
pass the barriers. It was said then, and it has been repeated since,
that M. de Talleyrand was not a stranger to the gentle violence used
towards him. The same day of this visit to M. de Talleyrand I also went
to see the Duc de Rovigo (Savary), with the friendly object of getting
him to remain, and to profit by his position to prevent disturbances.
He refused without hesitating, as he only thought of the Emperor.
I found him by his fireside, where there was a large file, in which he
was burning all the papers which might have compromised every one who had
served his ministry (Police). I congratulated him sincerely on this
loyal occupation: fire alone could purify the mass of filth and
denunciations which encumbered the police archives.

On the departure of the Empress many persons expected a popular movement
in favour of a change of Government, but the capital remained tranquil.
Many of the inhabitants, indeed, thought of defence, not for the sake of
preserving Napoleon's government, but merely from that ardour of feeling
which belongs to our national character. Strong indignation was excited
by the thought of seeing foreigners masters of Paris--a circumstance of
which there had been no example since the reign of Charles VII.
Meanwhile the critical moment approached. On the 29th of March Marshals
Marmont and Mortier fell back to defend the approaches to Paris. During
the night the barriers were consigned to the care of the National Guard,
and not a foreigner, not even one of their agents, was allowed to enter
the capital.

At daybreak on the 30th of March the whole population of Paris was