confusion many thousand Mobiles, who had been at an early date sent thither from Paris, behaved so badly—some reports of their ape-like tricks are almost incredible—that they were speedily returned to the capital, although the Emperor and Marshal Canrobert, who had commanded them, would have preferred, the former for political reasons, that they should be distributed in the northern garrison towns. Nothing more need be said of the Army of Chalons except that, although it contained some admirable troops, none finer than the Marines, whose only fault was that they could not march, yet that it was unfit to engage in any adventure whatever, especially one so perilous and toilsome as that into which it was soon plunged. Weary, perturbed, broken in health and spirits, yet outwardly serene, Napoleon III. slept on the night of the 16th in the pavilion of the camp, which he had often visited when it was orderly and brilliant, which he now revisited as a fugitive, passing silently, almost furtively, through its disorder and gloom. With him was Prince Jerome Napoleon, who saw the fortunes of his house, like Balzac’s _peau de chagrin_, shrinking visibly day by day, and whose fertile mind was alive with expedients to avert the fatal hour. He resented the bigotry of the Empress, who would not surrender Rome as a bribe to the Italian Court; he was pondering over and, indeed, openly suggesting the abdication of the Emperor. Sleeping also in that pavilion was the youth, Louis, who is barely mentioned in the French accounts after the 2nd of August; whose public life began in the tumult of a national catastrophe and ended so tragically among the savage Zulus. Daylight brought no respite to the Emperor. He saw around him silent and unsympathetic throngs of soldiers bearing the marks of defeat and rout, and it is said that he was even jeered by the Parisian Mobiles, who had previously shouted in the ears of the astonished Canrobert, “À Paris! À Paris!” instead of “À Berlin!”