On the eve of the Emperor’s departure for Dresden to dazzle and flatter his allies by a final display of grandeur worthy the Conqueror of Western Europe, Pasquier, his newly-appointed Prefect of Police, had an interview with him. The question of a shortage in the food supply of Paris had come up, and Pasquier had ventured to remark that the situation would be rendered more dangerous by the monarch’s absence. “Napoleon appeared struck by these few remarks,” Pasquier tells us. “When I had ended speaking, he remained silent, and pacing to and fro between the window and the fireplace, his arms crossed behind his back, like a man who is pondering deeply. I followed in his steps, when, facing me suddenly, he uttered the words which follow: ‘Yes, there is doubtless some truth in what you tell me; it is one more difficulty added to the many I have to face in _the greatest, the most difficult_ undertaking I have ever attempted; but I must fain bring to a termination what I have begun. _Farewell, monsieur le préfet._’” On the 9th May 1812, the Emperor and his consort set out on their journey to the capital of Saxony. It was one long series of festivities culminating in a Court of Kings which included the Emperor and Empress of Austria, the Kings of Prussia, Saxony, Naples, Würtemberg, and Westphalia, and the rulers of Saxe Weimar, Saxe Coburg, and Dessau. “His levée,” says de Ségur, “presented a remarkable sight. Sovereign princes waited for an audience from the Conqueror of Europe; they were mixed up to such an extent with his officers that the latter were frequently on their guard lest they should accidentally brush up against these new courtiers and be confounded with them.” His description may be a little exaggerated, but it showed to what a supreme height Napoleon had risen, and how marked had been the change in his ideas since the days when he would have willingly laid down his life for Republicanism. At St Helena he stated that at Dresden he “appeared as the King of Kings.” This was not meant in any blasphemous sense, but was merely the Emperor’s summing-up of the unique and all-powerful position he then occupied. The inhabitants of Dresden waited in the streets for hours on the chance of getting a fleeting glimpse of the “little great man” who had done so much and who was expected to do considerably more in the forthcoming campaign. “It was not his crown,” says Count Philip de Ségur, “his rank, the luxury of his Court, but him--himself--on whom they desired to feast their eyes; a memento of his features which they were anxious to obtain: they wished to be able to say to their less fortunate countrymen and posterity that they had seen Napoleon.” Englishmen who had every reason to hate him have left behind records which testify to the fascination exercised over them by the Emperor on various occasions. The Germans had nothing to thank him for, and yet they flocked in crowds to see their oppressor.