At all events, his career in Corsica was at an end, for the time. He had strained his relations with the French war office, had ignored positive orders to rejoin his command, had been stricken off the list for his disobedience, had exhausted every resource on his Corsican schemes, and was now at the end of his rope. And what had he gained? He had squandered much money, wasted much precious time, established a character for trickiness, violence, and unscrupulous self-seeking; and had aroused implacable enmities, one of which (that of Pozzo) had no trifling share in giving him the death-wound in his final struggles in 1814–15. What, after it all, must he now do? He must get up a lot of certificates to his good conduct during the long time he had been absent from France; he must go to Paris and petition the central authority to be taken back to the French army. There was no trouble in getting the certificates. Paoli and his party, the priests and the wealthy towns-people, were so eager to get rid of this dangerous young man that they were ready to sign any sort of paper, if only he would go away. Armed with documentary evidence of his good behavior, Napoleon left Corsica in May, 1792, and reached Paris on the 28th of that month. Things were in a whirl in France. War had been declared against Austria. Officers of royalist principles were resigning and fleeing the country. Excitement, suspicion, alarm, uncertainty, were everywhere. No attention could be given to Napoleon and his petition just then. He saw that he would have to wait, be patient and persistent, if ever he won reinstatement. Meanwhile he lived in great distress. With no money, no work, no powerful friends, Paris was a cold place for the suppliant. He sauntered about with Bourrienne, ate at the cheapest restaurants, discussed many plans for putting money in his purse--none of which put any there. He pawned his watch to get the bare necessaries of life. Bearing in mind that Napoleon had been so active in the republican clubs at Valence and Ajaccio, and recalling the urgent appeal for three hundred francs which he had made to his great-uncle in order that he might go to Paris and push himself to the front, his attitude now that he was in Paris is a puzzle. According to his own account and that of Bourrienne, he was a mere spectator. A royal officer, he felt no inclination to defend the King. A violent democratic agitator, he took no part in the revolutionary movements. Seeing the mob marching to the Tuileries in June, his only thought was to get a good view of what was going on; therefore he ran to the terrace on the bank of the river and climbed an iron fence. He saw the rabble burst into the palace, saw the King appear at the window with the red cap on his head. “The poor driveller!” cried Napoleon. And according to Bourrienne he said that four or five hundred of the mob should have been swept away with cannon, and that the others would have taken to their heels.