ded with Austria, the greater part of the
inhabitants of Paris gathered under the windows of the Pavilion of Flora.
Blessings and cries of gratitude and joy were heard on all sides; then
musicians assembled to give a serenade to the chief of state, and
proceeded to form themselves into orchestras; and there was dancing the
whole night through. I have never seen a sight more striking or more
joyous than the bird's-eye view of this improvised jubilee.

When in the month of October, the, peace of Amiens having been concluded
with England, France found herself delivered from all the wars that she
had maintained through so many years, and at the cost of so many
sacrifices, it would be impossible to form an idea of the joy which burst
forth on all sides. The decrees which ordered either the disarmament of
vessels of war, or the placing of the forts on a peace footing, were
welcomed as pledges of happiness and security. The day of the reception
of Lord Cornwallis, Ambassador of England, the First Consul ordered that
the greatest magnificence should be displayed. "It is necessary," he had
said the evening before, "to show these proud Britons that we are not
reduced to beggary." The fact is, the English, before setting foot on
the French continent, had expected to find only ruins, penury, and
misery. The whole of France had been described to them as being in the
most distressing condition, and they thought themselves on the point of
landing in a barbarous country. Their surprise was great when they saw
how many evils the First Consul had already repaired in so short a time,
and all the improvements that he still intended to carry out; and they
spread through their own country the report of what they themselves
called the prodigies of the First Consul, by which thousands of their
compatriots were influenced to come and judge with their own eyes. At
the moment that Lord Cornwallis entered the great hall of the Ambassadors
with his suite, the eyes of all the English must have been dazzled by the
sight of the First Consul, surrounded by his two colleagues, with all the
diplomatic corps, and with an already brilliant military court.

In the midst of all these rich uniforms, his was remarkable for its
simplicity; but the diamond called the Regent, which had been put in pawn
under the Directory, and redeemed a few days since by the First Consul,
sparkled on the hilt of his sword.

CHAPTER VII.

In the month of May, 1801, there